The work was begun to the left of the old pavilion, in a corner of that extensive marshy tableland, where little streams coursed on all sides through the reeds which sprang up everywhere.  It was at first simply a question of draining a few acres by capturing these streams and turning them into canals, in order to direct them afterwards over the dry sandy slopes which descended towards the railway line.  After an attentive examination Mathieu had discovered that the work might easily be executed, and that water-furrows would suffice, such was the disposition and nature of the ground.  This, indeed, was his real discovery, not to mention the layer of humus which he felt certain would be found amassed on the plateau, and the wondrous fertility which it would display as soon as a ploughshare had passed through it.  And so with his pick he now began to open the trench which was to drain the damp soil above, and fertilize the dry, sterile, thirsty ground below.

The open air, however, had doubtless given Gervais an appetite, for he began to cry.  He was now a strong little fellow, three months and a half old, and never neglected mealtime.  He was growing like one of the young trees in the neighboring wood, with hands which did not easily release what they grasped, with eyes too full of light, now all laughter and now all tears, and with the ever open beak of a greedy bird, that raised a tempest whenever his mother kept him waiting.

“Yes, yes, I know you are there,” said she; “come, don’t deafen us any longer.”

Then she gave him the breast and he became quiet, simply purring like a happy little kitten.  The beneficent source had begun to flow once more, as if it were inexhaustible.  The trickling milk murmured unceasingly.  One might have said that it could be heard descending and spreading, while Mathieu on his side continued opening his trench, assisted by the two men whose apprenticeship was long since past.

He rose up at last, wiped his brow, and with his air of quiet certainty exclaimed:  “It’s only a trade to learn.  In a few months’ time I shall be nothing but a peasant.  Look at that stagnant pond there, green with water-plants.  The spring which feeds it is yonder in that big tuft of herbage.  And when this trench has been opened to the edge of the slope, you will see the pond dry up, and the spring gush forth and take its course, carrying the beneficent water away.”

“Ah!” said Marianne, “may it fertilize all that stony expanse, for nothing can be sadder than dead land.  How happy it will be to quench its thirst and live again!”

Then she broke off to scold Gervais:  “Come, young gentleman, don’t pull so hard,” said she.  “Wait till it comes; you know very well that it’s all for you.”