"Never before, I believe, in the annals of civilized nations, did a man in authority dare to proclaim that persons should suffer for a crime with which they had nothing, whatever, to do. If we arrive at a little village, how are the people to say to us, 'We will not allow you to pull up a rail!'? And yet, if they do not prevent us, they are to be punished with fire and sword. And these people call themselves a civilized nation!
"One of the evil consequences of this proclamation is that we shall never dare trust to the inhabitants to make inquiries for us. They will be so alarmed, in case we should attempt anything in their neighborhood, that they would be sure to do and say everything they could to dissuade us from it and, if inclined to treachery, might even try to buy their own safety by betraying us."
Major Tempe was speaking to the other officers, who thoroughly agreed with his opinion. Ralph and Percy had remained in the room, in case any further questions might be asked in reference to the proclamation. They now asked if anything else were required and, upon a negative answer being given, saluted and took their leave. It was dusk when they went out and, as they walked towards the schoolroom, they heard a great tumult of voices raised in anger, among which they recognized that of Tim Doyle.
"Howld yer jaw, you jabbering apes!" he exclaimed, in great wrath. "Give me a lantern, or a candle, and let me begone. The boys are all waiting for me to begin."
Hurrying up, they found Tim surrounded by a few of the principal inhabitants of the village, and soon learned the cause of the dispute. Supper was served, but it was too dark to see to eat it; and Tim--always ready to make himself useful--had volunteered to go in search of a light. He had in vain used his few words of French with the villagers he met, and these had at last called the schoolmaster, the only person in the village who understood French. This man had addressed Tim first in French and then in German and, upon receiving no coherent answer in either language, had arrived at the conclusion that Tim was making fun of them. Hence the dispute had arisen.
The boys explained matters, and the villagers--whose knowledge of England was of the very vaguest description; and most of whom, indeed, had previously believed that all the world spoke either French or German--were profuse in apologies, and immediately procured some candles, with which Tim and the boys hastened to the schoolroom. Two candles were given to each company and--one being lighted at each end of the room, and stuck upon nails in the wall--the boys were enabled to see what the place was like.
Clean straw had been littered, a foot deep, down each side of the room; and fifteen blankets were folded, side by side, along by each wall. Upon pegs above--meant for the scholars' caps--hung the haversacks, water bottles, and other accouterments; while the rifles were piled along the center of the room, leaving space enough to walk down upon either side, between them and the beds. At the farther end of the room was a large fireplace, in which a log fire was blazing; and a small shed, outside, had been converted into a kitchen.
"We might be worse off than this, a long way, Ralph," said Louis Duburg, as Ralph took his place on the straw next to him.
"That we might, Louis. The fire looks cheerful, too, and the nights are getting very cold."
"That they are, Ralph.