"And I tell you to proceed to his room, you rogue!"
He gave the concierge a kick that made him climb the stairs in double quick time and, opening the prefect's room, the concierge placed his tallow candle on the night-table, revealing to Charras a man who was rubbing his eyes; then the concierge went out, saying—
"There is M. le Préfet, settle what you like with him."
The prefect raised himself on his elbow.
"What!" he said,—"what do they want with me?"
"I want to inform you, Monsieur le Préfet," said Charras, "that, whilst you are sleeping tranquilly, there are ten thousand men round Rambouillet who are mad with hunger through your fault."
"How through my fault, pray?"
"No doubt of it.... Did you not receive an order to send off ten thousand rations of bread to Cognières?"
"Well, monsieur?"
"Well, monsieur, those ten thousand rations are still in Versailles, that is all I can say."