This exclamation from Granoux, who was believed to be asleep, caused great commotion.  The marquis pretended not to have heard it; but all the bourgeois nodded approval.  Roudier, who, being rich, did not fear to applaud the sentiment aloud, went so far as to declare, while glancing askance at Monsieur de Carnavant, that the position was no longer tenable, and that France must be chastised as soon as possible, never mind by what hand.

The marquis still maintained a silence which was interpreted as acquiescence.  And thereupon the Conservative clan, abandoning the cause of Legitimacy, ventured to offer up prayers in favour of the Empire.

“My friends,” said Commander Sicardot, rising from his seat, “only a Napoleon can now protect threatened life and property.  Have no fear, I’ve taken the necessary precautions to preserve order at Plassans.”

As a matter of fact the commander, in concert with Rougon, had concealed, in a kind of cart-house near the ramparts, both a supply of cartridges and a considerable number of muskets; he had also taken steps to secure the co-operation of the National Guard, on which he believed he could rely.  His words produced a very favourable impression.  On separating for the evening, the peaceful citizens of the yellow drawing-room spoke of massacring the “Reds” if they should dare to stir.

On December 1, Pierre Rougon received a letter from Eugene which he went to read in his bedroom, in accordance with his prudent habit.  Felicite observed, however, that he was very agitated when he came out again.  She fluttered round the secretaire all day.  When night came, she could restrain her impatience no longer.  Her husband had scarcely fallen asleep, when she quietly got up, took the key of the secretaire from the waistcoat pocket, and gained possession of the letter with as little noise as possible.  Eugene, in ten lines, warned his father that the crisis was at hand, and advised him to acquaint his mother with the situation of affairs.  The hour for informing her had arrived; he might stand in need of her advice.

Felicite awaited, on the morrow, a disclosure which did not come.  She did not dare to confess her curiosity; but continued to feign ignorance, though enraged at the foolish distrust of her husband, who, doubtless, considered her a gossip, and weak like other women.  Pierre, with that marital pride which inspires a man with the belief in his own superiority at home, had ended by attributing all their past ill-luck to his wife.  From the time that he fancied he had been conducting matters alone everything seemed to him to have gone as he desired.  He had decided, therefore, to dispense altogether with his consort’s counsels, and to confide nothing to her, in spite of his son’s recommendations.

Felicite was piqued to such a degree that she would have upset the whole affair had she not desired the triumph as ardently as Pierre.  So she continued to work energetically for victory, while endeavouring to take her revenge.