Pierre.
You've dumped me into a pretty mess, you have!
Julia.
Do, for goodness' sake, stop pitying yourself, and tell me what's to be
done.
Pierre.
Haven't I told you?
Julia.
I'll not go away! I will not go away! He can't come in here! I will not
leave this place!
Pierre.
Listen! I'll have a carriage here--at one o'clock in the night--behind
the park wall. Take it as far as the station.--Listen, I tell you!
Julia.
No, no, no! As soon as I step into the street, I'm lost. And you, too!
You don't know him! Gentle and tractable as he seems, when once he's
angry, his blood boils over!--If I hadn't taken the cartridges out of
his revolver in those days, he-- Why, I've seen him pick up two
unmanageable boys on our place and swing them over his shoulder into
the mill stream! And they would have been ground to pieces, too, if he
hadn't braced himself against the shaft. Pierre, Pierre, never get into
his way again. He's merciless!
Pierre (_feigning indifference_).
Oh, nonsense! I can hit the ace of hearts at twenty paces! I'll show
him!
Julia.
Yes, you'll "show him"! Do you suppose that he's going to wait until
you take a shot at him?--Devilish much he cares about your duels! He'd
make a clod of earth out of you before you'd have time to take off your
hat!--I tell you, bolt the gate, lock every room in the house, hide
behind your mother's chair,--and even there you won't be safe from him!
Pierre.
(_Struggling against his growing apprehension._) If that's the case,
then--h'm, then the best thing for me to do is to disappear for a time.
Julia (_trying to cling to him_).
Yes, let's go away together!
Pierre (_moving aside_).
That might suit you.
Julia.
But, after all, it would do no good. We could hide among crowds of
people--in Piccadilly or in Batignolles--we could go to India or to
Texas--and yet, if he took it into his head, he would find us none the
less. Even if we should evade him--some day, sooner or later, you would
have to return--and then--you would have to pay the penalty!
Pierre (_stammering_).