"Come, come," he said, smiling, "don't be angry.... Rather help me to make these good people understand...."
He turned to the servants, to Victor, who was taking down a rifle, to the gardener, to Henriot, and warned them that none but combatants must stay at the Old Mill, as any man captured with arms in his hands exposed himself to reprisals.
They let him talk; and Victor, without thinking of retiring, answered:
"That's as may be, captain. But it's one of the things one doesn't think about. I'm staying."
"And you, Farmer Saboureux? You're running a big risk, if they prove that you set fire to your farm."
"I'm staying," growled the peasant, laconically.
"And you, tramp?"
Old Poussière had not finished eating the piece of bread which he had taken from his wallet. He was listening and observing, with eyes wide open and an evident effort to attend. He examined the captain, his uniform, the braid upon his sleeve, seemed to reflect on mysterious things, stood up and seized a rifle.
"That's right, Poussière," grinned Morestal. "You know your country right enough, once it needs defending."
A man had made the same movement as the tramp, almost at the same time. One more division in the gun-rack was empty.