Some cows escaped through the fences, and you can't imagine what a tumult there was. I congratulated myself that I was not in the midst of this pillage. But this did not last long, for suddenly a herd of goats, driven by two old women, filed down the street on their way to the valley.
Then I had to stop them with my bayonet and call out:
"Halt!"
One of the women, Mother Migneron, knew me; she had a pitchfork, and was very pale.
"Let me pass, Moses," said she.
I saw that she was coming slowly toward me, meaning to throw me down with her pitchfork. The other tried to drive the goats into a little garden at the side, but the slats were too near together, and the fence too high.
I should have liked to let them go by, and deny having seen anything; but, unfortunately, Lieutenant Rollet came up and called out:
"Attention!"
And two men of the company followed: Mâcry and Schweyer, the brewer.
Old Migneron, seeing me cross the bayonet, began to grind her teeth, saying: