“Well, Madame, how much is it to be?—­$1,000, $2,000, $4,000?  Can’t you make up your mind?”

“No, sir, please don’t insist.  I do not want to part with dear Yollande,” and Mother Etienne, distressed and trembling, covered her hen with caresses.

In vain the American urged.  His eyes shone with the desire to include this marvel in his collection.  He could do nothing, and was finally obliged to retreat.

“Night brings counsel, Madame.  I will return tomorrow to visit you, and I hope you will then decide in my favour.  Until tomorrow, then, Madame.”

The gentleman bowed politely and got into his carriage.  The equipage left the courtyard, turned onto the high road, and was lost in the distance in a cloud of golden dust.

CHAPTER VI

THE SEPARATION

Mother Etienne was much distressed.  The unexpected appearance of this personage, the offer of this huge sum of money, were enough to excite a woman more worldly-wise than she.  Germaine strove to persuade her mistress to accept the offer.

“But, my dear mistress, think of it—­$4,000.  It is a fortune.  Don’t let it escape you.  It is a chance which will never come again.  Think how well Yollande will be cared for.  He does not mean to eat her at that price.  Think of a stew costing $4,000.  No indeed, the gentleman will try to keep her well as long as possible.  It will be to his interest not to hurt her.  Be sure of it, she will be as well cared for as she is here, if not better.”

Thus they talked all evening.

Mother Etienne, feverishly affectionate, looked at the hen lying as usual asleep in the chimney corner.  She could not make up her mind to sell her sweet Cinderella.  Her affection for Yollande had increased with the constant care she had needed during so many long months.  Besides, the silky tresses curling like corkscrews, which Germaine had kept so smooth, had been a source of amusement, not only to the farm but to the whole neighbourhood.

That night Mother Etienne was much agitated in spite of the hot drink Germaine had given her.  She was haunted by a horrible nightmare.  She seemed to be lying on a bed of banknotes, whilst the Cochin-China, sitting heavily on her chest, reproached her bitterly for having handed her over to a stranger in exchange for a little filthy lucre.  Mother Etienne, bathed in perspiration, seemed to suffocate under her sheets.

At last dawn came, the good woman rose, her heart still terribly oppressed.  Germaine calmed her as best she could with reassuring words and also with a foaming bowl of hot coffee.

All morning Mother Etienne endured torments.

It was three o’clock in the afternoon when suddenly the sound of a heavy carriage drawn by four horses was heard in the courtyard.  Labric barked with all his might, Coco whinnied loudly, the three cows all mooed at the same time, and the entire poultry-yard in an uproar added its piercing and varied tones to the general tumult.  The pigs especially made a great noise.