Alone in the mill that morning Lepailleur did not cease storming. At the
slightest provocation he would have hammered his plough to pieces, or
have rushed, axe in hand, and mad with hatred, on the old wheel by way of
avenging his misfortunes. When he saw Mathieu come in he believed in some
act of bravado, and almost choked.
"Come, neighbor," said the master of Chantebled cordially, "let us both
try to be reasonable. I've come to return your visit, since you called
upon me yesterday. Only, bad words never did good work, and the best
course, since this misfortune has happened, is to repair it as speedily
as possible. When would you have us marry off those bad children?"
Thunderstruck by the quiet good nature of this frontal attack, Lepailleur
did not immediately reply. He had shouted over the house roofs that he
would have no marriage at all, but rather a good lawsuit by way of
sending all the Froments to prison. Nevertheless, when it came to
reflection, a son of the big farmer of Chantebled was not to be disdained
as a son-in-law.
"Marry them, marry them," he stammered at the first moment. "Yes, by
fastening a big stone to both their necks and throwing them together into
the river.
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