"THE GRAPESHOT HAS MOWN THEM DOWN. THERE ARE NONE LEFT!"
"Oh!" cried Placiard, "now you see: what did I say? He is one of those villains who propagate false reports. Can six regiments be mown down? Did you not yourself say, Monsieur le Maire, that those six regiments alone would bear down everything before them?"
I could answer nothing; but the perspiration ran down my face.
"You must lock him up somewhere, and let the gendarmes know," continued Placiard. "Such are the orders of Monsieur le Sous-préfet."
The cuirassier wiped with his sleeves the blood which was trickling upon his cheek; he appeared to hear nothing.
Out of all the open windows were leaning the forms of the village people, with attentive ears.
George and I looked at each other in alarm.
"You have blood upon you," said my cousin, pointing to the soldier's cuirass, who started and answered:
"Yes; that is the blood of a white lancer: I killed him!"
"And that wound upon your cheek?"