A drummer and a man clad in a blouse, who carried on his back a ball of rope and in his hand a bell which he rang when the drum beat, preceded the troop. The sergeant marched at its head; behind him came two men clad in black. One was the bailiff of the Seigneur of Plouernel and Mezlean, the other the usher of the fisc. Salaun Lebrenn, the Baz-valan and the Brotaer, the last mounted on his ass, and his two companions on their horses, reined in a few paces from the detachment. Obedient to the suggestion of Salaun, and anxious to avoid a collision, all three alighted, and approached the sergeant, holding their mounts by the bridle. The soldiers had halted upon the command of their chief, and, drawn up in a semi-circle, they leaned upon the barrels of their guns.
"Messieurs," said Salaun courteously, "we are peaceful people; we are celebrating a wedding; I am the father of the bride; our company consists of our relatives and friends."
"And I," put in Paskou the Long with an air of importance, "I am the Baz-valan of the wedding, the master of ceremonies."
"And I," added Madok the miller without lowering his eyes before the piercing looks of the sergeant, "I am the Brotaer. You ordered our procession to stop—it obeyed—what do you want? Speak. We shall be pleased to accommodate you."
"By God's death! Here is a pack of inquisitive rustics!" observed Sergeant La Montagne to the bailiff and the usher, after measuring Salaun, Paskou the Long and Madok the miller with his eyes.
And addressing his two acolytes over his shoulder, La Montagne added, pointing with the tip of his cane at those whom he was referring to: "Are not these the ragamuffins whom you are looking for?"
"No," answered the bailiff and the usher. "The delinquents, whom we are after, are among the other people of the wedding."
"Soldiers, load your guns—and fire upon the woolen caps if they but budge!" ordered the sergeant. "Drummer, beat the march, and forward! Soldiers, fire upon these peasants at the slightest resistance!"
"And you, ring the bell—and forward!" said the usher to his subaltern. "The bell is to the civilian what the drum is to the military. Forward, and ring loud, so that those ragamuffins may hear you, and be notified of our approach."
Grieved and alarmed at seeing their pacific intervention so rudely brushed aside, the three Bretons exchanged a few words in a low voice, and when the troop was about to resume its march, Salaun Lebrenn addressed the sergeant, the bailiff and the usher in carefully measured words: "Messieurs, I do not know the purpose of your coming here. But be your purpose whatever it may, I entreat you to postpone until after the marriage ceremony the measures that you intend to take. Do not alarm and throw our relatives, friends, wives and children into a fright. Are you in quest of any one? I give you my word of honor that no one will attempt to escape. I invite you to escort us back to the burg of Mezlean—"