But as the Governor found that he was quite unmolested, his spirits began to recover from the first shock of surprise, and he asked:
“Are you not going to give me my parole, sir? I suppose that you make war like honorable soldiers.”
Bowman made no reply till he had made a hasty examination of all the loose papers, finding nothing worthy of note.
Then he turned round to Rocheblave, who was now dressed:
“In five minutes, sir, my commander will be here. He can answer your question. I find you have hidden your papers.”
Here madame, who had ducked under the bed-clothes, put out her head to listen. There was considerable galloping to and fro in the streets, and a great clattering, as if a party were dismounting at the gate.
Rocheblave, who quickly saw that he had fallen into the hands of organized troops, notwithstanding their rough exterior, began to assume a more haughty tone, as became a British officer.
“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” he said, angrily. “You have come into my house, like a parcel of rebel thieves, as you are, and I have given up my papers. Are you not satisfied, but do you wish to insult a prisoner?”
Madame, who had taken her cue, cried out:
“They want the silver, Auguste—that’s what they want, these thieves. Show them the plate-chest, and you will hear no more of papers. I know them well.”