I entered and saw the cannon in position, but, to my great astonishment, Bard had disappeared. He was twenty yards from his cannon, perched up in a plum tree eating green plums!
[1] I believe I ought to take the precaution, at the conclusion of this story that I took at the beginning, namely, to refer my reader to the Moniteur of 9 August 1830, in case they think I have been romancing. See the notes at the end of this volume.
[CHAPTER VII]
The Mayor of Soissons—The excise-office powder—M. Jousselin—The hatchet belonging to the warehouse-keeper—M. Quinette—I break open the door of the powder magazine—Triumphant exit from Soissons—M. Mennesson attempts to have me arrested—The Guards of the Duc d'Orléans—M. Boyer—Return to Paris—"Those devils of Republicans!"
Now, thanks to M. Quinette's excellent advice, no one could have been acting more legally than we were, since we were proceeding (like Bilboquet) with the mayors authorisation. So Lieutenant-Colonel d'Orcourt hastened to open the artillery powder magazine to us. It was the shed on the right of the door as we entered. We hardly found two hundred pounds of powder in it, as a matter of fact. I was preparing to carry it off when the mayor laid claim to it for the defence of the town. The claim was fair enough, only, as I had decided to carry powder to Paris, no matter what the quantity might be, it seemed likely I should have to go through the same scenes with the mayor as I had with the commander of the fort, when Lieutenant-Colonel d'Orcourt approached me and said in a whisper—
"There is certainly only about two hundred pounds of powder in the artillery magazine, but in the shed opposite there are three thousand pounds belonging to the town."