[Recognizing POTIN, speaks aside.]
Potin!—The wretch!—He may recognize me before the hour is up!
[He draws his sword and extends it backward.
POTIN.
[Taking the sword.]
General, you are our prisoner.
[To SOLDIERS.]
Comrades, to us—a squad of the battalion of the Bonnet Rouge—is due the glory of taking the leader of these Royalist Brigands!—Hurrah for our Battalion!
[All cheer.