Volume II Part 67 (1/2)
”You told me so the next morning!”
”Christmas night you were then here?”
”Yes. Well?”
”On that night that man, who had much money with him, was killed in this house.”
”He! Here!”
”And robbed, and buried in the little wood-house.”
”It is not true,” cried Martial, becoming pale with alarm, and not willing to believe in this new crime of his kindred. ”You wish to alarm me. Once more I say it is not true.”
”Ask your pet, Francois, what he saw in the wood-house.”
”Francois, what did he see?”
”One of the feet of the man sticking out of the ground. Take the lantern; go there, and satisfy yourself.”
”No,” said Martial, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. ”No, I do not believe you. You tell me that to---”
”To prove to you that, if you live here in spite of us, you run the risk every moment to be arrested as an accomplice in murder and robbery. You were here Christmas night; we will say how you gave us your aid; how can you prove the contrary?”
”Oh!” said Martial, hiding his face in his hands.
”Now will you go?” said the widow, with a sarcastic smile.
Martial was thunderstruck; he did not doubt the truth of what his mother had said; the roving life he led, his residence with a family so criminal, might cause heavy suspicions to fall upon him, and these might be changed into certainties in the eyes of justice, if his mother, his brother, his sister, pointed to him as their accomplice.
The widow enjoyed the situation of her son.
”You have the means to escape from this; denounce us!”
”I ought to do it, but I shall not; you know it well!”
”It is for this I have told you all. Now will you go?”
Martial tried to soften his mother; with a mellowed voice he said, ”Mother, I do not believe you capable of this murder.”
”As you like, but go away.”
”I will go on one condition.”
”No conditions.”
”You will place the children as apprentices far from this, in the provinces.”
”They shall remain here.”
”Come now, mother; when you have made them like Nicholas, Ambrose, father--what good will it do you?”