They counted heads, and the absence of the unfortunate fellows who had fallen or been taken was discovered.
Adamas ordered all the useless people of the village into the stables. They gave the poor creatures plenty of fresh straw, bidding them keep perfectly quiet and lament in whispers, which it was not easy to induce them to do.
Lauriane and Mercedes busied themselves nursing the wounded and feeding the children.
Meanwhile Adamas posted his force at all the places exposed to the fire of the assailants, in such manner that they could neutralize it by their fire; and to prevent anyone from sleeping on his post, he passed his time going from one to another, distributing words of praise and encouragement, exhibiting hope, fear, or absolute confidence in the result of the siege, according to the temperament of each person he addressed. The shrewd Adamas, who had never handled any other weapon than the comb and the curling-iron, manifestly played the rôle of the fly on the coach, a rôle which he was able to make very useful, and which those who are familiar with Berrichon moderation and apathy know to be very necessary.
When everything was arranged, Adamas, worn out with fatigue and excitement, threw himself on a chair in the kitchen to take breath, were it for no more than five minutes, and to collect his wits.
His heart was very heavy, and he dared not confide his distress to anyone. He alone knew that Mario was not to accompany his father to Brilbault, and that, if he were not already taken, he might arrive at any moment and fall into the hands of the enemy.
Neither Lauriane nor Mercedes shared his suffering; to avoid worrying them, the marquis had concealed his plans from them. So far as they knew, he had simply taken his people out for a battue. They had felt that something more serious was in the air, from his preoccupied manner and the frequent conferences he had held with his friends and servants throughout the day; but they were too well aware of his paternal affection to fear that he would expose Mario to any danger, and they both imagined that he would pass the night at the château of Ars or of Coudray.
Adamas was beset by innumerable perplexities, debating within himself whether he ought not to set everybody at work clearing the secret passage, in order to go out that way to meet Mario and send word to the marquis, at the same time enabling the women to escape. But he had measured the ground so many times that he knew that many hours' work would still be required, and during that time the château, being no longer guarded, might well be invaded. Then what would become of them, confined in that issueless underground passage, the entrance to which would not be likely to escape the notice of the plunderers?
He was interrupted in his agitated reflections by Clindor, who approached him on tiptoe.
"What are you doing here, you worthless page?" he demanded angrily.