Thus was our friend at the high tide of honor: he had received a communication from General Lafayette, and the War Minister.
This message served his schemes and plans most timely.
To see the animated faces of his fellows, their brightened eyes and eager manner; the profound respect all at once entertained for Ange Pitou, the most credulous observer must have owned that he had become an important character.
One after another the electors begged to touch the seal of the War Department.
When the crowd had tapered down to the chosen friends, Pitou said:
“Citizens, my plans have succeeded as I anticipated. I wrote to the Commander-in-chief your desire to be constituted National Guards, and your choice of me as leader. Read the address on the order brought me.”
The envelope was superscribed: “Captain Ange Pitou, Commander of the National Guards. Haramont.”
“Therefore,” continued the martial peasant, “I am known and accepted as commander by the Chief of the Army. You are recognized and approved as Soldiers of the Nation by General Lafayette and the Minister of War.”
A long cheer shook the walls of the little house which sheltered Pitou.
“I know where to get the arms,” he went on. “Select two of your number to accompany me. Let them be lusty lads, for we may have a difficulty.”