He jerked out his sentences with unrestrained frenzy.  He seemed hardly to know what he was saying, or that he had a listener.  Claudet stood contemplating him in sullen silence:  “Aha!” thought he, with bitter resignation; “I have sounded you at last.  I know what is in the bottom of your heart.”

Manette, bringing in the breakfast, interrupted their colloquy, and both assumed an air of indifference, according to a tacit understanding that a prudent amount of caution should be observed in her presence.  They ate hurriedly, and as soon as the cloth was removed, and they were again alone, Julien, glancing with an indefinable expression at Claudet, muttered savagely: 

“Well! what do you decide?”

“I will tell you later,” responded the other, briefly.

He quitted the room abruptly, told Manette that he would not be home until late, and strode out across the fields, his dog following.  He had taken his gun as a blind, but it was useless for Montagnard to raise his bark; Claudet allowed the hares to scamper away with out sending a single shot after them.  He was busy inwardly recalling the details of the conversation he had had with his cousin.  The situation now was simplified Julien was in love with Reine, and was vainly combating his overpowering passion.  What reason had he for concealing his love?  What motive or reasoning had induced him, when he was already secretly enamored of the girl, to push Claudet in front and interfere to procure her acceptance of him as a fiance?  This point alone remained obscure.  Was Julien carrying out certain theories of the respect due his position in society, and did he fear to contract a misalliance by marrying a mere farmer’s daughter?  Or did he, with his usual timidity and distrust of himself, dread being refused by Reine, and, half through pride, half through backward ness, keep away for fear of a humiliating rejection?  With de Buxieres’s proud and suspicious nature, each of these suppositions was equally likely.  The conclusion most undeniable was, that notwithstanding his set ideas and his moral cowardice, Julien had an ardent and over powering love for Mademoiselle Vincart.  As to Reine herself, Claudet was more than ever convinced that she had a secret inclination toward somebody, although she had denied the charge.  But for whom was her preference?  Claudet knew the neighborhood too well to believe the existence of any rival worth talking about, other than his cousin de Buxieres.  None of the boys of the village or the surrounding towns had ever come courting old Father Vincart’s daughter, and de Buxieres himself possessed sufficient qualities to attract Reine.  Certainly, if he were a girl, he never should fix upon Julien for a lover; but women often have tastes that men can not comprehend, and Julien’s refinement of nature, his bashfulness, and even his reserve, might easily have fascinated a girl of such strong will and somewhat peculiar notions.  It was probable, therefore, that she liked him, and