He swore, and accepted the most rigid conditions.  Felicite then got into bed; and in a whisper, as if she feared somebody might hear them, she explained at length her plan of campaign.  In her opinion the town must be allowed to fall into still greater panic, while Pierre was to maintain an heroic demeanour in the midst of the terrified inhabitants.  A secret presentiment, she said, warned her that the insurgents were still at a distance.  Moreover, the party of order would sooner or later carry the day, and the Rougons would be rewarded.  After the role of deliverer, that of martyr was not to be despised.  And she argued so well, and spoke with so much conviction, that her husband, surprised at first by the simplicity of her plan, which consisted in facing it out, at last detected in it a marvellous tactical scheme, and promised to conform to it with the greatest possible courage.

“And don’t forget that it is I who am saving you,” the old woman murmured in a coaxing tone.  “Will you be nice to me?”

They kissed each other and said good-night.  But neither of them slept; after a quarter of an hour had gone by, Pierre, who had been gazing at the round reflection of the night-lamp on the ceiling, turned, and in a faint whisper told his wife of an idea that had just occurred to him.

“Oh! no, no,” Felicite murmured, with a shudder.  “That would be too cruel.”

“Well,” he resumed, “but you want to spread consternation among the inhabitants!  They would take me seriously, if what I told you should occur.”  Then perfecting his scheme, he cried:  “We might employ Macquart.  That would be a means of getting rid of him.”

Felicite seemed to be struck with the idea.  She reflected, seemed to hesitate, and then, in a distressful tone faltered:  “Perhaps you are right.  We must see.  After all we should be very stupid if we were over-scrupulous, for it’s a matter of life and death to us.  Let me do it.  I’ll see Macquart to-morrow, and ascertain if we can come to an understanding with him.  You would only wrangle and spoil all.  Good-night; sleep well, my poor dear.  Our troubles will soon be ended, you’ll see.”

They again kissed each other and fell asleep.  The patch of light on the ceiling now seemed to be assuming the shape of a terrified eye, that stared wildly and fixedly upon the pale, slumbering couple who reeked with crime beneath their very sheets, and dreamt they could see a rain of blood falling in big drops which turned into golden coins as they plashed upon the floor.

On the morrow, before daylight, Felicite repaired to the town-hall, armed with instructions from Pierre to seek an interview with Macquart.  She took her husband’s national guard uniform with her, wrapped in a cloth.  There were only a few men fast asleep in the guard-house.  The doorkeeper, who was entrusted with the duty of supplying Macquart with food, went upstairs with her to open the door of the dressing-room, which had been turned into a cell.  Then quietly he came down again.