“As if a snip like you would be of any protection! Seriously, Binet, the best thing you can do for me is to get help, so hurry off as fast as you can, and when you have done my errand, join me at the town.”
“Old Courtignon and Nicole shall be brought back,” he cried, “if I have to drag them here by the hair of their heads; but just tell me one thing, Master,—what are we going to do with them when they get here?”
“You will see,” said I with an air of profound mystery, though I knew myself no more than the babe unborn what was to be the outcome. The sun had set in a bank of red clouds, and the lovely summer evening was closing in when I got to the town about eight o’clock; but fine as it was, there was not a soul about; no guards and no loungers outside the market gate; so I walked boldly up the High Street, where the only living thing I met was a half-starved cat, which fled when it saw me. The houses, all tightly closed, turned blind eyes on the street, with doors and windows barred; and the only sound I heard was the echo of my own footsteps.
“I am too late,” I said to myself, “they are all dead.” Just then I thought I heard a rustling behind the shutters, so I banged on the nearest door and shouted, “Let me in!” Getting no answer I tried another house and another, rattling the handles and knocking loudly with my stick, but not a door was opened. I could hear faint noises inside as if mice were stirring, and I understood that the miserable cowards were all hiding. This made me so angry that I cried out, “Denis Saulsoy, old man, if you don’t open the door, I’ll beat it down! It is I, Breugnon.”
At my name all the shutters flew open as if by magic; and I saw a row of frightened faces all along Market Street, like a lot of onions lying on the window sills. They stared at me as if I were the most beautiful thing in creation, and as the terror faded from their eyes, they looked so pleased that I flattered myself that it was from affection for me; but the fact was, the sight of any one there at that hour was reassuring. Then ensued a very interesting dialogue between Breugnon and the onions; they all talked at once, and I replied as best I was able. They wanted to know where I came from, what I was doing, where I was going, how I got in, and how I meant to get out? To which I answered that I was glad to find that their tongues were still in working order, though their courage seemed somewhat rusty.
“I want to talk to you,” I cried. “Come out! It is a charming evening, what are you all sticking in the house for,—has somebody stolen your breeches?”
“Breugnon,” they said in a frightened whisper, “did you see any one in the streets?”
“Whom did you expect to see, idiots?”
“The brigands; they are burning everything in Béyant.”
“Why don’t you go and stop them then, you fools?”