“Very well, sir,” replied Broussel, “what is this order?” And he held out his hand.
“I am commissioned to seize your person, sir,” said Comminges, in the same tone and with the same politeness; “and if you will believe me you had better spare yourself the trouble of reading that long letter and follow me.”
A thunderbolt falling in the midst of these good people, so peacefully assembled there, would not have produced a more appalling effect. It was a horrible thing at that period to be imprisoned by the enmity of the king. Louvieres sprang forward to snatch his sword, which stood against a chair in a corner of the room; but a glance from the worthy Broussel, who in the midst of it all did not lose his presence of mind, checked this foolhardy action of despair. Madame Broussel, separated by the width of the table from her husband, burst into tears, and the young girls clung to their father’s arms.
“Come, sir,” said Comminges, “make haste; you must obey the king.”
“Sir,” said Broussel, “I am in bad health and cannot give myself up a prisoner in this state; I must have time.”
“It is impossible,” said Comminges; “the order is strict and must be put into execution this instant.”
“Impossible!” said Louvieres; “sir, beware of driving us to despair.”
“Impossible!” cried a shrill voice from the end of the room.
Comminges turned and saw Dame Nanette, her eyes flashing with anger and a broom in her hand.
“My good Nanette, be quiet, I beseech you,” said Broussel.