With the help of his wife he had managed to manure and cultivate the three acres of land sold to him by Rigou, together with the garden adjoining the house, which was beginning to be productive; and he was in danger of being turned out of it all.  Clothed in rags like Fourchon, poor Courtecuisse, who lately wore the boots and gaiters of a huntsman, now thrust his feet into sabots and accused “the rich” of Les Aigues of having caused his destitution.  These wearing anxieties had given to the fat little man and his once smiling and rosy face a gloomy and dazed expression, as though he were ill from the effects of poison or with some chronic malady.

“What’s the matter with you, Monsieur Courtecuisse; is your tongue tied?” asked Tonsard, as the man continued silent after he had told him about the battle which had just taken place.

“No, no!” cried Madame Tonsard; “he needn’t complain of the midwife who cut his string,—­she made a good job of it.”

“It is enough to make a man dumb, thinking from morning till night of some way to escape Rigou,” said the premature old man, gloomily.

“Bah!” said old Mother Tonsard, “you’ve got a pretty daughter, seventeen years old.  If she’s a good girl you can easily manage matters with that old jail bird—­”

“We sent her to Auxerre two years ago to Madame Mariotte the elder, to keep her out of harm’s way; I’d rather die than—­”

“What a fool you are!” said Tonsard, “look at my girls,—­are they any the worse?  He who dares to say they are not as virtuous as marble images will have to do with my gun.”

“It’ll be hard to have to come to that,” said Courtecuisse, shaking his head.  “I’d rather earn the money by shooting one of those Arminacs.”

“Well, I call it better for a girl to save a father than to wrap up her virtue and let it mildew,” retorted the innkeeper.

Tonsard felt a sharp tap on his shoulder, delivered by Pere Niseron.

“That is not a right thing to say!” cried the old man.  “A father is the guardian of the honor of his family.  It is by behaving as you do that scorn and contempt are brought upon us; it is because of such conduct that the People are accused of being unfit for liberty.  The People should set an example of civic virtue and honor to the rich.  You all sell yourselves to Rigou for gold; and if you don’t sell him your daughters, at any rate you sell him your honor,—­and it’s wrong.”

“Just see what a position Courtecuisse is in,” said Tonsard.

“See what a position I am in,” replied Pere Niseron; “but I sleep in peace; there are no thorns in my pillow.”

“Let him talk, Tonsard,” whispered his wife, “you know they’re just his notions, poor dear man.”

Bonnebault and Marie, Catherine and her brother came in at this moment in a state of exasperation, which had begun with Nicolas’s failure, and was raised to the highest pitch by Michaud’s advice to the countess about Bonnebault.  As Nicolas entered the tavern he was uttering frightful threats against the Michaud family and Les Aigues.