"Call the iron-merchant!" cried the captain. "Tell him to come down."
Baker Chanoine, the brigadier of the second battery, came up. I opened the door.
"What do you want of me?" I asked in the stairway.
"Come down, Moses," said Chanoine. And I went down.
Captain Jovis, a tall old man, with his face covered with sweat, in spite of the cold, said to me, "You are Moses, the iron-merchant?"
"Yes, sir."
"Open your storehouse. Your iron is required for the defence of the city."
So I had to lead all these people into my court, under the shed. The captain on looking round, saw some cast-iron bars, which were used at that time for closing up the backs of fireplaces. They weighed from thirty to forty pounds each, and I sold a good many in the vicinity of the city. There was no lack of old nails, rusty bolts, and old iron of all sorts.
"This is what we want," said he. "Break up these bars, and take away the old iron, quick!"
The others, with the help of our two axes, began at once to break up everything. Some of them filled a basket with the pieces of cast-iron, and ran with it to the wagon.