Sebastian, a Spartan child, was impassible. Going up to Pitou he asked him what was the to-do.
“An order signed by General Lafayette, and written by my father?” he repeated when briefly informed. “Why is there any hesitation in obeying it?”
He revealed the indomitable spirit of the two races creating him in his dilated pupils, and the rigidity of his brow.
The priest shuddered to hear the words and lowered his crest.
“This is rebellion,” continued Sebastian; “beware, sir!”
“Thou, also?” cried the schoolmaster, draping himself in his gown after the manner of Caesar.
“And I,” said Pitou, comprehending that his post was at stake. “Do you style me a traitor, because I came to you with the olive branch in my hand to ask the arms, and am forced this day to wrench them from you under support of the authorities? Well, I would rather appear as a traitor to my duties than give a favoring hand to the Anti-Revolution. The Country forever and above all! hand over the arms, or we will use ours!”
The mayor nodded on the sly to Pitou as he had to the priest to signify: “You have said that finely.”
The speech had thunderstricken the priest and electrified the hearers. The mayor slipped away, and the deputy would have liked to follow his example, but the absence of the two principal functionaries would look bad. He therefore followed the secretary, who led the gendarmes along to the museum, guided by Pitou who, instructed in the place was also instructed on the place of deposit.
Like a lion cub, Sebastian bounded with the patriots. The schoolmaster fell half dead on a chair.