It was at any rate evident that Marie was holding out, was true to her first love, in spite of that betrothal which had appeared to George to be so wicked, but which had in truth been caused by his own fault.  If Marie would hold out, there would be no need that he should lay violent hands upon Adrian Urmand, or have resort to any process of choking.  If she would only be firm, they could not succeed in making her marry the linen-merchant.  He was not in the least afraid of M. le Cure Gondin; nor was he afraid of Adrian Urmand.  He was not much afraid of Madame Voss.  He was afraid only of his father.  ‘A man cannot yield on such a matter,’ he said.  ’No man yields in such an affair,—­though he may be beaten.’  Madame Voss listened to him, but said nothing farther.  She was busy with her work, and went on intently with her needle.

He had asked to see Urmand, and he now went out in quest of him.  He passed across the court, and in at the door of the cafe, and up into the billiard-room.  Here he found both his father and the young man.  Urmand got up to salute him, and George took off his hat.  Nothing could be more ceremonious than the manner in which the two rivals greeted each other.  They had not seen each other for nearly two years, and had never been intimate.  When George had been living at Granpere, Urmand had only been an occasional sojourner at the inn, and had not as yet fallen into habits of friendship with the Voss family.

‘Have you seen your mother?’ Michel asked.

‘Yes; I have seen her.’  Then there was silence for awhile.  Urmand knew not how to speak, and George was doubtful how to proceed in presence of his father.

Then Michel asked another question.  ’Are you going to stay long with us, George?’

’Certainly not long, father.  I have brought nothing with me but what you see.’

‘You have brought too much, if you have come to give us trouble.’

Then there was another pause, during which George sat down in a corner, apart from them.  Urmand took out a cigar and lit it, offering one to the innkeeper.  But Michel Voss shook his head.  He was very unhappy, feeling that everything around him was wrong.  Here was a son of his, of whom he was proud, the only living child of his first wife, a young man of whom all people said good things; a son whom he had always loved and trusted, and who even now, at this very moment, was showing himself to be a real man; and yet he was forced to quarrel with this son, and say harsh things to him, and sit away from him with a man who was after all no more than a stranger to him, with whom he had no sympathy; when it would have made him so happy to be leaning on his son’s shoulder, and discussing their joint affairs with unreserved confidence, asking questions about wages, and suggesting possible profits.  He was beginning to hate Adrian Urmand.  He was beginning to hate the young man, although he knew that it was his duty to go on with the marriage.  Urmand, as soon as his cigar was lighted, got up and began to knock the balls about on the table.  That gloom of silence was to him most painful.