“What are the citizens doing all this time?” I asked.
“Nothing, now that their leaders are gone; they are like lambs led to the slaughter.”
“Well, how about me, Binet? This old ram has some fight left in him still, so come along!”
“You are crazy, Master! What could you do, one man, against hundreds of brigands?”
“Do?—the best I can, of course; why should I be afraid of robbers, now that I have not a penny left in the world? Come on, I say.”
Now, would you believe it? that boy actually turned a handspring on the road for joy, in spite of his burned hand, and bruises, and began to dance about and shout that this was the greatest sport he had ever heard of.
“Hooray!” he cried; “we’ll chase these beggars off the face of the earth!”
“Stop! you young monkey,” said I. “You’ll be swinging soon, perhaps, by your neck instead of by your tail, so keep still, and mind what I tell you.... I’m off for Clamecy now by myself, and you must make the best of your way to Dornecy. When you get there, find Magistrate Nicole, our alderman. He thought it prudent to run, I know, but he is kind-hearted, even if he does love himself better than his neighbor, and there are things he prizes still more,—viz.: his goods and chattels, which are in the greatest peril, as you will not fail to tell him.
“When you have seen him, push on to Sardy, to Master Courtignon, the Procurator; you’ll find him in his house with a pigeon-cote there; let him know that his mansion in Clamecy, with all it contains, will be burnt to the ground this very night, unless he comes back;—that will fetch him, I promise you! But I don’t need to give you lessons in lying, you young rascal! I’ll be bound you know well enough what to say to them.”
“Oh! I don’t mind a lie or two, but the fact is, Master, I would rather not leave you alone.”