At this point he drew his sabre and brandished it.
This gave him the cue to call the Haramontese to arms after the example of revolted Paris.
The Revolution was proclaimed in the village.
All echoed the cry of “To arms!” but the only arms in the place were those old Spanish muskets kept at Father Fortier’s.
A bold youth, who had not, like Pitou, been educated under his knout, proposed going thither to demand them. Ange wavered, but had to yield to the impulse of the mob.
“Heavens,” he muttered: “if they thus lead me before I am their leader, what will it be when I am at their head?”
He was compelled to promise to summon his old master to deliver the firearms. Next day, therefore, he armed himself and departed for Father Fortier’s academy.
He knocked at the garden door loud enough to be heard there, and yet modestly enough not to be heard in the house.
He did it to tranquilize his conscience, and was surprised to see the door open; but it was Sebastian who stood on the sill.
He was musing in the grounds, with an open book in his hand.