"That doesn't matter. I've got the butcher's cart.... I'll take him with me straight away, as he is."
"But it's impossible," moaned Mme. Morestal. "He's in bed."
"That doesn't matter.... There's orders to be given.... There's a whole company of soldiers ... soldiers from the manœuvres.... The town-hall is upside down.... He's the only one to put things right."
"Nonsense! Where are his deputies? Arnauld? Walter?"
"They've lost their heads."
"Who's at the town-hall?"
"Everybody."
"The parish-priest?"
"A milksop!"
"The parson?"