These words of Marguerite, "Monsieur has come!" announcing the arrival
of Jacques Bastien at the very moment in which Marie realised that she
owed to David not only the moral restoration but the life of her son, so
appalled the young woman that she sat mute and motionless, as if struck
by an unexpected blow; for the incidents of the morning had banished
from her mind every thought of her husband's letter. Frederick, on his
part, felt a sad surprise. Thanks to his mother's reticence he was
ignorant of much of his father's unkindness and injustice, but certain
domestic scenes in which the natural brutality of Jacques Bastien's
character had been manifested, and the unwise severity with which he
exercised his paternal authority in his rare visits to the farm, united
in rendering the relations of father and son very strained.
David also saw the arrival of M. Bastien with profound apprehension;
although prepared to make all possible concessions to this man, even to
the point of utter self-effacement, it pained him to think that the
continuity of his relations with Frederick and his mother depended
absolutely on the caprice of Jacques Bastien.
Marguerite was so little in advance of her master that David, Marie, and
her son were still under the effects of their astonishment and painful
reflections, when Jacques Bastien entered the library, accompanied by
his companion, Bridou, the bailiff of Pont Brillant.
Jacques Bastien, as we have said, was an obese Hercules; his large head,
covered with a forest of reddish blond curls, was joined close to his
broad shoulders by the neck of a bull; his face was large, florid, and
almost beardless, as is frequently the case in athletic physiques; his
nose big, his lips of the kind called blubber, and his eye at the same
time shrewd, wicked, and deceitful. The blue blouse, which, according to
his custom, he wore over his riding-coat, distinctly delineated the
prominence of his Falstaff-like stomach; he wore a little cap of fox
hair, with ear-protectors, trousers of cheap velvet, and iron-tipped
boots that had not been cleaned for several days; in one of his short,
yet enormous hands, broader than they were long, he carried a stick of
holly-wood, fastened to his wrist by a greasy leather string; and if the
truth must be told, this man, a sort of mastodon, at ten paces distant,
smelled like a goat.
His boon companion, Bridou, also clad in a blouse over his old black
coat, and wearing a round hat, was a small man, with spectacles, lank,
covered with freckles, with a cunning, sly expression, pinched mouth,
and high cheek-bones: one might have taken him for a ferret wearing
eyeglasses.
At the sight of Jacques Bastien, David shuddered with pain and
apprehension, as he thought that Marie's life was for ever linked to the
life of this man, who even lacked the generosity of remaining absent
from the unhappy woman.
Jacques Bastien and Bridou entered the library without salutation; the
first words that the master of the domicile, with an angry frown and
rude voice, addressed to his wife, who rose to receive him, were these:
"Who gave the order to fell my fir-trees?"
"What fir-trees, monsieur?" asked Marie, without knowing what she said,
so much was she upset by her husband's arrival.
"How, what fir-trees?" replied Jacques Bastien. "What but my fir-trees
on the road? Do I speak enigmas? In passing along the road I have just
seen that more than a thousand of the finest trees on the border of the
plantation have been cut down! I ask you who has allowed them to be sold
without my order?"
"They have not been sold, monsieur," replied Marie, regaining her
self-possession.
"If they have not been sold, why were they cut down? Who ordered them
cut down?"
"I did, monsieur."
"You?"
And Jacques Bastien, overwhelmed with astonishment, was silent a moment;
then he said:
"Ah! so it was you, madame! A new performance, forsooth! You are drawing
it rather strong. What do you say about it, Bridou?"
"Bless me, Jacques, you had better look into it."
"That is just what I am going to do; and what use did you have for the
money, madame, that you had more than a thousand of my finest firs cut
down, if you please?"
"Monsieur, it would be better, I think, to talk of business when we are
alone. You must see that my son's preceptor, M. David, is present."
And Madame Bastien indicated by her glance David, who was sitting apart
from the company.
Jacques Bastien turned around abruptly, and after having contemptuously
measured David from head to foot, said to him, rudely:
"Monsieur, I wish to speak with my wife."
David bowed and went out, and Frederick followed him, outraged at the
treatment received by his friend.
"Come, madame," continued Jacques Bastien, "you see your Latin spitter
has departed; are you going to answer me at last?"
"When we are alone, monsieur."
"If it is I who restrain you," said Bridou, walking toward the door, "I
am going to march out."
"Come now, Bridou, do you make a jest of everybody? Please stay where
you are," cried Jacques.
Then, turning to Marie, he said:
"My companion knows my business as well as I do; now, madame, we are
talking of business, for a thousand firs on the edge of my farm is a
matter of business, and a big one, too; so Bridou will remain."
"As you please, monsieur; then I will tell you before M. Bridou that I
thought it my duty to have your fir-trees cut down, in order to give
them to the unfortunate valley people, that they might rebuild their
dwellings half destroyed by the overflow."