“They were at Mauze station, and the gendarme on duty arrested Morin.  When the victim of his indiscreet admiration had regained her consciousness, she made her charge against him, and the police drew it up.  The poor linen draper did not reach home till night, with a prosecution hanging over him for an outrage to morals in a public place.”  II

“At that time I was editor of the Fanal des Charentes, and I used to meet Morin every day at the Cafe du Commerce, and the day after his adventure. he came to see me, as he did not know what to do.  I did not hide my opinion from him, but said to him:  ’You are no better than a pig.  No decent man behaves like that.’

“He cried.  His wife had given him a beating, and he foresaw his trade ruined, his name dragged through the mire and dishonored, his friends scandalized and taking no notice of him.  In the end he excited my pity, and I sent for my colleague, Rivet, a jocular but very sensible little man, to give us his advice.

“He advised me to see the public prosecutor, who was a friend of mine, and so I sent Morin home and went to call on the magistrate.  He told me that the woman who had been insulted was a young lady, Mademoiselle Henriette Bonnel, who had just received her certificate as governess in Paris and spent her holidays with her uncle and aunt, who were very respectable tradespeople in Mauze.  What made Morin’s case all the more serious was that the uncle had lodged a complaint, but the public official had consented to let the matter drop if this complaint were withdrawn, so we must try and get him to do this.

“I went back to Morin’s and found him in bed, ill with excitement and distress.  His wife, a tall raw-boned woman with a beard, was abusing him continually, and she showed me into the room, shouting at me:  ’So you have come to see that pig of a Morin.  Well, there he is, the darling!’ And she planted herself in front of the bed, with her hands on her hips.  I told him how matters stood, and he begged me to go and see the girl’s uncle and aunt.  It was a delicate mission, but I undertook it, and the poor devil never ceased repeating:  ’I assure you I did not even kiss her; no, not even that.  I will take my oath to it!’

“I replied:  ‘It is all the same; you are nothing but a pig.’  And I took a thousand francs which he gave me to employ as I thought best, but as I did not care to venture to her uncle’s house alone, I begged Rivet to go with me, which he agreed to do on condition that we went immediately, for he had some urgent business at La Rochelle that afternoon.  So two hours later we rang at the door of a pretty country house.  An attractive girl came and opened the door to us assuredly the young lady in question, and I said to Rivet in a low voice:  ’Confound it!  I begin to understand Morin!’

“The uncle, Monsieur Tonnelet, subscribed to the Fanal, and was a fervent political coreligionist of ours.  He received us with open arms and congratulated us and wished us joy; he was delighted at having the two editors in his house, and Rivet whispered to me:  ’I think we shall be able to arrange the matter of that pig of a Morin for him.’