Semanticate

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@@ -50,7 +50,7 @@
 			<p>However, she grew calm.</p>
 			<p>“I’m speaking in a general way; we shall see later. It is fine and strong, your coffee; you make it proper.”</p>
 			<p>And after a quarter of an hour spent over other stories, she ran off, exclaiming that the men’s soup was not yet made. Outside, the children were going back to school; a few women were showing themselves at their doors, looking at Madame Hennebeau, who, with lifted finger, was explaining the settlement to her guests. This visit began to stir up the village. The earth-cutting man stopped digging for a moment, and two disturbed fowls took fright in the gardens.</p>
-			<p>As Maheude returned, she ran against the Levaque woman who had come out to stop <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen, a doctor of the Company, a small hurried man, overwhelmed by work, who gave his advice as he walked.</p>
+			<p>As Maheude returned, she ran against the Levaque woman who had come out to stop <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen, a doctor of the Company, a small hurried man, overwhelmed by work, who gave his advice as he walked.</p>
 			<p>“Sir,” she said, “I can’t sleep; I feel ill everywhere. I must tell you about it.”</p>
 			<p>He spoke to them all familiarly, and replied without stopping:</p>
 			<p>“Just leave me alone; you drink too much coffee.”</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-3-5.xhtml

@@ -47,7 +47,7 @@
 			<p>Maheu gave a last blow, and an opening was made, communicating with the men who were clearing away the soil from the other side. They shouted out that they had just found Jeanlin, unconscious, with both legs broken, still breathing. It was the father who took up the little one in his arms, with clenched jaws constantly uttering “My God!” to express his grief, while Catherine and the other women again began to shriek.</p>
 			<p>A procession was quickly formed. Bébert had brought back Bataille, who was harnessed to the trams. In the first lay Chicot’s corpse, supported by Étienne; in the second, Maheu was seated with Jeanlin, still unconscious, on his knees, covered by a strip of wool torn from the ventilation door. They started at a walking pace. On each tram was a lamp like a red star. Then behind followed the row of miners, some fifty shadows in single file. Now that they were overcome by fatigue, they trailed their feet, slipping in the mud, with the mournful melancholy of a flock stricken by an epidemic. It took them nearly half an hour to reach the pit-eye. This procession beneath the earth, in the midst of deep darkness, seemed never to end through galleries which bifurcated and turned and unrolled.</p>
 			<p>At the pit-eye Richomme, who had gone on before, had ordered an empty cage to be reserved. Pierron immediately loaded the two trams. In the first Maheu remained with his wounded little one on his knees, while in the other Étienne kept Chicot’s corpse between his arms to hold it up. When the men had piled themselves up in the other decks the cage rose. It took two minutes. The rain from the tubbing fell very cold, and the men looked up towards the air impatient to see daylight.</p>
-			<p>Fortunately a trammer sent to <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen’s had found him and brought him back. Jeanlin and the dead man were placed in the captains’ room, where, from year’s end to year’s end, a large fire burnt. A row of buckets with warm water was ready for washing feet; and, two mattresses having been spread on the floor, the man and the child were placed on them. Maheu and Étienne alone entered. Outside, putters, miners, and boys were running about, forming groups and talking in a low voice.</p>
+			<p>Fortunately a trammer sent to <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen’s had found him and brought him back. Jeanlin and the dead man were placed in the captains’ room, where, from year’s end to year’s end, a large fire burnt. A row of buckets with warm water was ready for washing feet; and, two mattresses having been spread on the floor, the man and the child were placed on them. Maheu and Étienne alone entered. Outside, putters, miners, and boys were running about, forming groups and talking in a low voice.</p>
 			<p>As soon as the doctor had glanced at Chicot:</p>
 			<p>“Done for! You can wash him.”</p>
 			<p>Two overseers undressed and then washed with a sponge this corpse blackened with coal and still dirty with the sweat of work.</p>
@@ -59,15 +59,15 @@
 			<p>At this moment the engineer, Négrel, and Dansaert, who had been informed, came up with Richomme. The first listened to the captain’s narrative with an exasperated air. He broke out: Always this cursed timbering! Had he not repeated a hundred times that they would leave their men down there! and those brutes who talked about going out on strike if they were forced to timber more solidly. The worst was that now the Company would have to pay for the broken pots. <abbr>M.</abbr> Hennebeau would be pleased!</p>
 			<p>“Who is it?” he asked of Dansaert, who was standing in silence before the corpse which was being wrapped up in a sheet.</p>
 			<p>“Chicot! one of our good workers,” replied the chief captain. “He has three children. Poor chap!”</p>
-			<p><abbr>Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen ordered Jeanlin’s immediate removal to his parents’. Six o’clock struck, twilight was already coming on, and they would do well to remove the corpse also; the engineer gave orders to harness the van and to bring a stretcher. The wounded child was placed on the stretcher while the mattress and the dead body were put into the van.</p>
+			<p><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen ordered Jeanlin’s immediate removal to his parents’. Six o’clock struck, twilight was already coming on, and they would do well to remove the corpse also; the engineer gave orders to harness the van and to bring a stretcher. The wounded child was placed on the stretcher while the mattress and the dead body were put into the van.</p>
 			<p>Some putters were still standing at the door talking with some miners who were waiting about to look on. When the door reopened there was silence in the group. A new procession was then formed, the van in front, then the stretcher, and then the train of people. They left the mine square and went slowly up the road to the settlement. The first November cold had denuded the immense plain; the night was now slowly burying it like a shroud fallen from the livid sky.</p>
 			<p>Étienne then in a low voice advised Maheu to send Catherine on to warn Maheude so as to soften the blow. The overwhelmed father, who was following the stretcher, agreed with a nod; and the young girl set out running, for they were now near. But the van, that gloomy well-known box, was already signalled. Women ran out wildly on to the paths; three or four rushed about in anguish, without their bonnets. Soon there were thirty of them, then fifty, all choking with the same terror. Then someone was dead? Who was it? The story told by Levaque after first reassuring them, now exaggerated their nightmare: it was not one man, it was ten who had perished, and who were now being brought back in the van one by one.</p>
 			<p>Catherine found her mother agitated by a presentiment; and after hearing the first stammered words Maheude cried:</p>
 			<p>“The father’s dead!”</p>
 			<p>The young girl protested in vain, speaking of Jeanlin. Without hearing her, Maheude had rushed forward. And on seeing the van, which was passing before the church, she grew faint and pale. The women at their doors, mute with terror, were stretching out their necks, while others followed, trembling as they wondered before whose house the procession would stop.</p>
 			<p>The vehicle passed; and behind it Maheude saw Maheu, who was accompanying the stretcher. Then, when they had placed the stretcher at her door and when she saw Jeanlin alive with his legs broken, there was so sudden a reaction in her that she choked with anger, stammering, without tears:</p>
 			<p>“Is this it? They cripple our little ones now! Both legs! My God! What do they want me to do with him?”</p>
-			<p>“Be still, then,” said <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen, who had followed to attend to Jeanlin. “Would you rather he had remained below?”</p>
+			<p>“Be still, then,” said <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen, who had followed to attend to Jeanlin. “Would you rather he had remained below?”</p>
 			<p>But Maheude grew more furious, while Alzire, Lénore, and Henri were crying around her. As she helped to carry up the wounded boy and to give the doctor what he needed, she cursed fate, and asked where she was to find money to feed invalids. The old man was not then enough, now this rascal too had lost his legs! And she never ceased; while other cries, more heartbreaking lamentations, were heard from a neighbouring house: Chicot’s wife and children were weeping over the body. It was now quite night, the exhausted miners were at last eating their soup, and the settlement had fallen into a melancholy silence, only disturbed by these loud outcries.</p>
 			<p>Three weeks passed. It was found possible to avoid amputation; Jeanlin kept both his legs, but he remained lame. On investigation the Company had resigned itself to giving a donation of fifty francs. It had also promised to find employment for the little cripple at the surface as soon as he was well. All the same their misery was aggravated, for the father had received such a shock that he was seriously ill with fever.</p>
 			<p>Since Thursday Maheu had been back at the pit and it was now Sunday. In the evening Étienne talked of the approaching date of the first of December, preoccupied in wondering if the Company would execute its threat. They sat up till ten o’clock waiting for Catherine, who must have been delaying with Chaval. But she did not return. Maheude furiously bolted the door without a word. Étienne was long in going to sleep, restless at the thought of that empty bed in which Alzire occupied so little room.</p>

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@@ -9,7 +9,7 @@
 		<section data-parent="part-6" id="chapter-6-2" epub:type="chapter">
 			<h3 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">II</h3>
 			<p>Snow had been falling for two days; since the morning it had ceased, and an intense frost had frozen the immense sheet. This black country, with its inky roads and walls and trees powdered with coal dust, was now white, a single whiteness stretching out without end. The Deux-Cent-Quarante settlement lay beneath the snow as though it had disappeared. No smoke came out of the chimneys; the houses, without fire and as cold as the stones in the street, did not melt the thick layer on the tiles. It was nothing more than a quarry of white slabs in the white plain, a vision of a dead village wound in its shroud. Along the roads the passing patrols alone made a muddy mess with their stamping.</p>
-			<p>Among the Maheus the last shovelful of cinders had been burnt the evening before, and it was no use any longer to think of gleaning on the pit-bank in this terrible weather, when the sparrows themselves could not find a blade of grass. Alzire, from the obstinacy with which her poor hands had dug in the snow, was dying. Maheude had to wrap her up in the fragment of a coverlet while waiting for <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen, for whom she had twice gone out without being able to find him. The servant had, however, promised that he would come to the settlement before night, and the mother was standing at the window watching, while the little invalid, who had wished to be downstairs, was shivering on a chair, having the illusion that it was better there near the cold grate. Old Bonnemort opposite, his legs bad once more, seemed to be sleeping; neither Lénore nor Henri had come back from scouring the roads, in company with Jeanlin, to ask for sous. Maheu alone was walking heavily up and down the bare room, stumbling against the wall at every turn, with the stupid air of an animal which can no longer see its cage. The petroleum also was finished; but the reflection of the snow from outside was so bright that it vaguely lit up the room, in spite of the deepening night.</p>
+			<p>Among the Maheus the last shovelful of cinders had been burnt the evening before, and it was no use any longer to think of gleaning on the pit-bank in this terrible weather, when the sparrows themselves could not find a blade of grass. Alzire, from the obstinacy with which her poor hands had dug in the snow, was dying. Maheude had to wrap her up in the fragment of a coverlet while waiting for <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen, for whom she had twice gone out without being able to find him. The servant had, however, promised that he would come to the settlement before night, and the mother was standing at the window watching, while the little invalid, who had wished to be downstairs, was shivering on a chair, having the illusion that it was better there near the cold grate. Old Bonnemort opposite, his legs bad once more, seemed to be sleeping; neither Lénore nor Henri had come back from scouring the roads, in company with Jeanlin, to ask for sous. Maheu alone was walking heavily up and down the bare room, stumbling against the wall at every turn, with the stupid air of an animal which can no longer see its cage. The petroleum also was finished; but the reflection of the snow from outside was so bright that it vaguely lit up the room, in spite of the deepening night.</p>
 			<p>There was a noise of sabots, and the Levaque woman pushed open the door like a gale of wind, beside herself, shouting furiously from the threshold at Maheude:</p>
 			<p>“Then it’s you who have said that I forced my lodger to give me twenty sous when he sleeps with me?”</p>
 			<p>The other shrugged her shoulders.</p>
@@ -51,7 +51,7 @@
 			<p>Maheu again began his heavy walk from one wall to the other, looking like a stricken ox. Father Bonnemort, seated stiffly on his chair, had not even lifted his head. Alzire also had said nothing, and was trying not to shiver, so as to avoid giving them pain; but in spite of her courage in suffering, she sometimes trembled so much that one could hear against the coverlet the quivering of the little invalid girl’s lean body, while with her large open eyes she stared at the ceiling, from which the pale reflection of the white gardens lit up the room like moonshine.</p>
 			<p>The emptied house was now in its last agony, having reached a final stage of nakedness. The mattress ticks had followed the wool to the dealers; then the sheets had gone, the linen, everything that could be sold. One evening they had sold a handkerchief of the grandfather’s for two sous. Tears fell over each object of the poor household which had to go, and the mother was still lamenting that one day she had carried away in her skirt the pink cardboard box, her man’s old present, as one would carry away a child to get rid of it on some doorstep. They were bare; they had only their skins left to sell, so worn-out and injured that no one would have given a farthing for them. They no longer even took the trouble to search, they knew that there was nothing left, that they had come to the end of everything, that they must not hope even for a candle, or a fragment of coal, or a potato, and they were waiting to die, only grieved about the children, and revolted by the useless cruelty that gave the little one a disease before starving it.</p>
 			<p>“At last! here he is!” said Maheude.</p>
-			<p>A black figure passed before the window. The door opened. But it was not <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen; they recognized the new curé, Abbé Ranvier, who did not seem surprised at coming on this dead house, without light, without fire, without bread. He had already been to three neighbouring houses, going from family to family, seeking willing listeners, like Dansaert with his two policemen; and at once he exclaimed, in his feverish fanatic’s voice:</p>
+			<p>A black figure passed before the window. The door opened. But it was not <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Vanderhaghen; they recognized the new curé, Abbé Ranvier, who did not seem surprised at coming on this dead house, without light, without fire, without bread. He had already been to three neighbouring houses, going from family to family, seeking willing listeners, like Dansaert with his two policemen; and at once he exclaimed, in his feverish fanatic’s voice:</p>
 			<p>“Why were you not at mass on Sunday, my children? You are wrong, the Church alone can save you. Now promise me to come next Sunday.”</p>
 			<p>Maheu, after staring at him, went on pacing heavily, without a word. It was Maheude who replied:</p>
 			<p>“To mass, sir? What for? Isn’t the good God making fun of us? Look here! what has my little girl there done to Him, to be shaking with fever? Hadn’t we enough misery, that He had to make her ill too, just when I can’t even give her a cup of warm gruel?”</p>