He had always pictured it dying there, carried off by the
hurricane which killed so many babes, and lying in the silent village
cemetery paved with little Parisians. To find the boy alive, saved from
the massacre, came like a surprise of destiny, and brought vague anguish,
a fear of some terrible catastrophe to Mathieu's heart. At the same time,
since the boy was living, and he now knew where to seek him, he felt that
he must warn Beauchene. The matter was becoming serious, and it seemed to
him that he ought not to carry the inquiry any further without the
father's authorization.
That same day, then, before returning to Chantebled, he repaired to the
factory, where he was lucky enough to find Beauchene, whom Blaise's
absence on business had detained there by force. Thus he was in a very
bad humor, puffing and yawning and half asleep. It was nearly three
o'clock, and he declared that he could never digest his lunch properly
unless he went out afterwards. The truth was that since his rupture with
his wife he had been devoting his afternoons to paying attentions to a
girl serving at a beer-house.
"Ah! my good fellow," he muttered as he stretched himself.
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