“I can only recall monsieur’s attention,” said I, “to the fact that certain citizens, travelling under safe-conduct of a member of the Committee of Safety, and with their papers in indisputable order, are suffering a detention sufficiently unwarrantable to produce the gravest results.”
The commissary snatched up his hat and ran to the door.
“Go thy ways!” he cried. “Myself, I will conduct you through the village. For the rest, when the Englishman is found, and if he denies thee——”
He did not finish the sentence. In a moment we were all in the rainy street. My accuser was vanished from the neighbourhood of the barrier. A single patriot only was in evidence. This man made a feint of bringing his musket to the charge.
“Qui va là?” he grunted. “Est-ce qu’il se sauve, ce cochon!”
Fear lent the commissary anger.
“To thy post!” he shouted. “Am I to be made answerable to every dog that barks!”
Red-bonnet fell back muttering. We hurried forward, splashing over the streaming cobbles. The street, by luck of weather, was entirely deserted. Only a horseless limonière, standing at the porch of the village inn, gave earnest of some prospective interest.
Suddenly I felt Carinne’s little clutch on my arm.
“The Englishman!” she whispered, in a gasp.