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Updated: April 30, 2025
The old man raised toward him an anxious eye full of suspicion, and, foreseeing danger, he was getting ready to climb up his ladder when the Abbe Raffin laid his hand on his shoulder and shouted close to his temple: "I want to have a talk with you, Father Amable." Cesaire had disappeared, taking advantage of the door being open.
Jolbert, the alleged murderer of Weir, was never punished, but François Nicholas and Amable Daumais, who had aided in the trial and execution of Chartrand, were subsequently hanged for having taken an active part in the second insurrection of 1838.
And they sat down at the table of an open-air restaurant. They drank one glass of brandy, then two, then three, and old Amable once more began wandering through the assembly. His thoughts became slightly confused, he smiled without knowing why, he smiled in front of the lotteries, in front of the wooden horses and especially in front of the killing game.
In fact, the man who thus went off, Cesaire Houlbreque, the son of deaf old Amable Houlbreque, wanted to marry, in spite of his father, Celeste Levesque, who had a child by Victor Lecoq, a mere laborer on her parents' farm, who had been turned out of doors for this act.
Old Amable pursued a little path across the fields. He watched the young wheat and the young oats, thinking that his son was now under the clay, his poor boy. He went on at his customary pace, dragging his legs after him in a limping fashion.
And they sat down before the table of a rustic inn placed in the open air. They drank one glass of spirits, then two, then three; and old Amable once more wandered through the assembly. His thoughts became slightly confused, he smiled without knowing why, he smiled in front of the lotteries, in front of the wooden horses, and especially in front of the killing game.
Natalie Poussette, poor woman she is so delicate, so fonny, so so ill, she cannot have any leetle babee; no leetle children play round their fader that's me, Amable Poussette, beeg man, rich man, good Methodist, built a fine church on top of the Fall. Many a time I feel like go on the dhrunk.
He went on eating, with his glance riveted on the youngster, into whose mouth the woman who minded him every now and then put a little morsel which he nibbled at. And the old man suffered more from the few mouthfuls sucked by this little chap than from all that the others swallowed. The meal lasted till evening. Then every one went back home. Cesaire raised up old Amable.
And he gazed, without hate, at the distant profile of the man who was driving his plow along on the horizon's edge. But old Amable did not want this marriage. He opposed it with the obstinacy of a deaf man, with a violent obstinacy. Césaire in vain shouted in his ear, in that ear which still heard a few sounds: "I'll take good care of you, daddy.
"Come, daddy, you must eat." He rose up, took his seat at the end of the table, emptied his soup bowl, masticated his bread and butter, drank his two glasses of cider and then took himself off. It was one of those warm days, one of those enjoyable days when life ferments, pulsates, blooms all over the surface of the soil. Old Amable pursued a little path across the fields.
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