TOM'S VISIT TO HIS UNCLE.
Tom Soher was now constantly on the watch to see if he might catch
his uncle alone. He was soon satisfied on that account.
One evening, he saw Adele come out of the farm-house. He hid himself
and let her go by, then he went towards "Les Marches."
He walked straight in, and was not surprised to see his uncle busily
engaged cleaning carrot seed.
Tom was in such a state of excitement and rage, that he hardly knew
what he was saying.
"Good evening, uncle," he said, "busy?"
"Good evening, Tom," was the reply, with the addition: "Yes, you
know the French proverb: 'Do not lose a single hour, since you are
not certain of a minute.'"
"Quite right uncle; shall I help you?"
"No, thank you, now that you are here, we shall talk, and I'll do
that job to-morrow."
The farmer fetched a mug of cider and placed it on the table between
them. Tom was delighted.
"I am glad that you are here," quoth Mr. Rougeant. "It is not that I
generally care for visitors, but you are always welcome. Besides,
Adele is gone and we shall pass the evening agreeably."
"That's what I thought, uncle."
Mr. Rougeant looked, at his nephew and wondered what ailed him.
"Did you know she was gone?" he asked, and added: "Perhaps you met
her down the road."
"No; is she gone?" asked Tom.
Said the farmer inly: "Is the fellow mad?" aloud; "Yes; she is gone
to a concert."
"Where?" questioned the nephew.
"I don't know, I did not ask her."
"You let her go all alone when it is dark!"
"Yes; she's not particularly timid. She is so fond of music, poor
girl, I did not care to refuse her, and, as she has fallen in with
my views, or very nearly so, I must allow her a little freedom."
"Perhaps she has a companion," said Tom.
"No; she says she prefers going alone; it will not be for long,
however; in another month she will, I hope, be your betrothed."
Tom felt a pang of vexation run through him. He was ready to
explode, but succeeded in showing a good exterior and said jokingly:
"Suppose she came accompanied by some young fellow."
"She never would dare to do so."
"I would not say so if I were you, uncle; it's not a good sign when
a young girl is always out like that. Haven't you noticed that she
very often goes out in the evening lately?"
The old man's suspicions were beginning to be aroused. "I had not
even thought of it," he said "but, indeed, it's as you say; she has
been going out often lately."
"I hope there is no one supplanting me," said his nephew.
"You need not fear, Tom--pass me the mug."
They both drank out of the same coarse vessel, and Tom, who was
warming up, continued: "I have strange presentiments, uncle; when I
went to school, I remember having read in an English book about,
'Coming events casting their shadows before.' Now, just as I met
Miss Rougeant this evening, I saw a cat cross the road. Now, you
know as well as I do, that it means discord betwixt her and me."
"This sounds very strange," said the farmer, "but I thought you told
me you had not seen her."
"Did I? really, I hardly knew what I was doing." And, desirous of
finding an excuse for his singular behaviour, he added in the most
dejected tone imaginable: "I have a rival."
"What do you mean?" fairly howled the farmer.
"I mean," replied Tom, in the most wretched tone he could assume; "I
mean that my cousin loves another fellow, an Englishman, who has not
a single penny which he can call his own, a wretched cur, a beggarly
fortune-hunter. I fancy I can see him. He is one of those fellows
who walk bearing all their fortunes on their backs. He was dressed
in faultless evening dress; light kid gloves, patent leather boots,
and a tall silk hat." (This was all false.) "If I am not mistaken,
this fellow has not a particularly bright character."
The farmer was looking at Tom. His lips were apart, his teeth
closed, his eyes shone with an ominous light. He did not say a word.
Tom continued: "Ah! your fortune will soon be gone to the dogs, all
the money that you have honestly earned, that you have had so much
trouble to scrape together, will disappear in the twinkling of an
eye, and your ruined daughter will have to end her days in the
hospital at the Castel."
"Never, never;" shouted the farmer.
"And I, who meant to attend to your business," said Tom; "I, who was
going to work your farm; I, who meant to save our family from ruin
and you from the shame that will necessarily fall partly on you as a
member of that family; I, who am her cousin and who would have done
anything and everything for her, I am put aside as worthless stuff."
"Oh!" groaned the farmer; "Do you know him?" he asked.
"I have seen him but once, I do not know where he lives."
"Do you think he will accompany her this evening?"
"Certainly, that's why she has gone out."
"Oh! the dog--pass me the mug."
Tom gave him the mug. The farmer took a long pull and handed it to
his nephew who drank so well that he completely emptied it, and
afterwards said: "We ought to lie in wait for their arrival and
attack the ninny."
"That's what I'll do, and--" clenching his fists--"he'll be lucky if
he escapes."
"You ought to give him a lesson which he won't forget soon."
"I ought to, still, when one comes to think of it, he might have me
flung in prison for assault."
"You wait till he is alone, then you can settle him."
"If I were sentenced to a term of imprisonment, my reputation would
be ruined. However, I'm master of my daughter, I will give this
young fellow a good shaking, and, as for her; I shall see."
"I shall be hiding behind the hedge; if you require any help, I will
give it you."
"I think I can frighten him alone--my daughter marry one of those
white-faced spendthrifts, why my throat dries up at the thought of
it;--pass me the mug."
Tom did as he was requested, feeling very uneasy. The farmer was
about to drink, but he exclaimed: "Why, its empty."
"Indeed," said Tom, "let me see; so it is, I was in such a state of
mind that I did not know I had drunk all."
"Never mind," said his uncle, "I will fetch some more." And he
proceeded towards the cellar.
Tom chuckled all to himself, "What a splendid piece of fun; I knew
him, he's the man to act."
Mr. Rougeant came back with the mug brimming. The conversation
continued to flow, so did the cider. The men were getting excited.
"It's time for us to go out and choose a hiding-place," said Tom.
"Yes, let us go," said his uncle.
They went out. The farmer hid himself behind a hedge, Tom went
opposite him on the other side of the road also taking advantage of
the cover which a hedge afforded him. They waited. Not a breath of
wind disturbed the grass or brambles, not a word was exchanged
between the men on the watch. The air was stiff, but they felt it
not. The cider which they had drunk kept them warm.
Not one of them knew exactly how they were to operate. Tom counted
on his uncle and Mr. Rougeant thought he would act according to
circumstances.
"They will never come," said Tom to himself. He stretched himself at
full length on the grass. In less than five minutes he was sleeping
soundly.