“The aubergiste, citizen.”
Crépin looked at the poor creature with disfavour. Certainly she was very plain, though quite young, and her homely face was blowzed with tears.
“Why do you cry then, little fool?”
“Monsieur, they have taken my father to La Réole.”
“He will return, if innocent.”
“Alas! no, monsieur.”
“What! you would discredit the impartiality of the Republic?”
He stepped from the carriage, and took her by the shoulder.
“He will return, if innocent, I say; and would the law had enlarged him before we arrived! You are in charge here, citoyenne?”
“But yes, monsieur.”