After all, the insurgents were abandoning him, and allowing themselves to be beaten like idiots.

Eventually he came to the conclusion that the Republic was mere dupery.

Those Rougons were lucky! And he recalled his own bootless wickedness and underhand intrigues.

Not one member of the family had ever been on his side; neither Aristide, nor Silvere's brother, nor Silvere himself, who was a fool to grow so enthusiastic about the Republic and would never do any good for himself.

Then Macquart reflected that his wife was dead, that his children had left him, and that he would die alone, like a dog in some wretched corner, without a copper to bless himself with.