110
om it, he stopped a moment to watch the departure of the day-workers. No doubt six o'clock had struck; landers, porters from the pit-eye, and grooms were going away in bands, mixed with the vague and laughing figures of the screening girls in the shade. At first it was Brulé and her son-in-law, Pierron. She was abusing him because he had not supported her in a quarrel with an overseer over her reckoning of stones. "Get along! damned good-for-nothing! Do you call yourself a man to lower yourself like that before one of these beasts who devour us?" Pierron followed her peacefully, without replying. At last he said: "I suppose I ought to jump on the boss? Thanks for showing me how to get into a mess!" "Bend your backside to him, then," she shouted. "By God! if my daughter had listened to me! It's not enough for them to kill the father. Perhaps you'd like me to say 'thank you.' No, I'll have their skins first!" Their voices were lost. Étienne saw her disappear, with her eagle nose, her flying white hair, her long, lean arms that gesticulated furiously. But the conversation of two young people behind caused him to listen. He had recognized Zacharie, who was waiting there, and who had just been addressed by his friend Mouquet. "Are you here?" said the latter. "We will have something to eat, and then off to the Volcan." "Directly. I've something to attend to." "What, then?" The lander turned and saw Philoméne coming out of the screening shed. He thought he understood. "Very well, if it's that. Then I go ahead." "Yes, I'll catch you up." As he went away, Mouquet met his father, old Mouque, who was also coming out of the Voreux. The two men simply wished each other good evening, the son taking the main road while the father went along by the canal. Zacharie was already pushing Philoméne in spite of her resistance into the same solitary path. She was in a hurry another time; and the two wrangled like old housemates. There was no fun in only seeing one another out of doors, especially in winter,