Have no fear, my dear
mother."
As he spoke, he began to pack all the legal documents which had
been confided to him into a large box, which was to be carried to
one of his former friends, who would distribute the papers among
the people they belonged to. He next made a small bundle of the
few important private papers and valuables he possessed; and then,
ready for the sacrifice, he took a last survey of the pleasant
home where success had smiled so favorably upon his efforts, where
he had been so happy, and where he had cherished such bright
dreams of the future. Overcome by a flood of recollections, the
tears sprang to his eyes. He embraced his mother, and fled
precipitately from the house.
"Poor child!" murmured Madame Ferailleur; "poor Pascal!"
Was she not also to be pitied? This was the second time within
twenty years that a thunderbolt had fallen on her in the full
sunlight of happiness. And yet now, as on the day following her
husband's death, she found in her heart the robust energy and
heroic maternal constancy which enable one to rise above every
misfortune. It was in a firm voice that she ordered her servant
to go in search of the nearest furniture dealer, no matter which,
provided he would pay cash. And when the man arrived she showed
him through the rooms with stoical calmness. God alone knew how
intensely she was suffering. And yet while she was waiting for
the dealer, each piece of furniture had acquired an extraordinary
value in her eyes.
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