He passed his men through the simple manual of arms, and they did it so smartly and neatly that it elicited applause.
Not so with the competitors, who were irregularly armed and had not been trained steadily. Others exaggerated from their conceit what they could have done properly.
On the whole imperfect results.
For the grand array, Pitou was outranked in seniority by an army sergeant who took the general command; but unhappily he had grasped more than he could hold: he bunched his men, lost grip of some files, let a company meander under the surrounding trees, and finally lost his head so that his own soldiers began to grumble.
From the Haramont side rose a shout:
“Let Pitou try!”
“Yes, yes Pitou!” caught up the other villagers, furious at their inferiority being manifested through their own instructors.
Pitou jumped on his white charger, and replacing himself at the head of his troop, become the rallying point of the little army, uttered a word of command so superbly that the oaks shivered. On the instant, and as by miracle, order was re-established: the movements fitted in with one another with such uniformity that the enthusiasm did not disturb the regularity. Pitou so well applied the theory of the instruction books and the practice of old Clovis that he obtained immense success.
Formed into a hollow square, the whole army raised but one voice and proclaimed him Colonel on the spot.
Bathed in perspiration and drunk with glory, Pitou got down off his horse and received the people’s felicitations when he alighted.