He sprang out of bed, took a pitcher of cold water, that was
standing on the table, and poured it upon the head of the kneeling
boy. Louis Charles awoke with a shriek, and crouched down in alarm.
But the whole bed was wet, only the pillow had been spared. The boy
rose carefully, took the pillow, carried it into a corner of the
room, and sat down upon it. But his teeth chattered with the cold in
spite of himself. This awakened Simon a second time, just as he was
dropping asleep. With a wild curse he jumped out of bed and dressed
himself.
"That is right!" cried Jeanne Marie, "bring the brat to his senses.
Make little Capet know that he is to behave respectfully."
And Simon did make the poor boy understand it, sitting on the
pillow, shivering in his wet shirt. He seized him by his shoulders,
shook him angrily from one side to another, and shouted: "I will
teach you to say your Pater Noster, and get up in the night like a
Trappist!"
The boy remaining silent, Simon's rage, which knew no bounds when he
thought he was defied or met with stubbornness, entirely took
possession of him. He caught up his boot, whose sole was secured
with large iron nails, and was on the point of hurling it at the
head of the unoffending boy, when the latter seized his arm with
convulsive energy.
"What have I done to you, master, that you should kill me?" cried
the little Louis.
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