"Decimate us!" cried one.
"Beautiful!" laughed another.
And cries of "Prodigious!" "What a farce!" "Whom will he do it with?" "He hasn't even a corporal's guard!" rang on every side. The men left the stack's of arms and began to gather round us with menacing looks and gestures. Brocard threw himself among the most furious, but his words availed nothing to restrain them. The situation was becoming critical.
Suddenly a thought struck me. I signed to Zanetto to beat his drum, so that its continued roll might drown their voices, and the more desperate be thus prevented from urging on those who hesitated.
Anything which brings the habits of discipline to the minds of old soldiers acts with wonderful power. Before the roll of the drum ceased, every man had regained his place; the tumult was ended and quiet reigned.
"We are come to decimate you," I continued, coldly and sternly as before, "and we are alone. Do you ask why? Because the colonel wishes the execution to be secret; he would not have the company dishonored before their comrades—dishonored for having turned their backs when all was ready to march upon the enemy."
"But we did not do so!" cried one of the men.
"Silence! The captain is right," replied several.
"Then Polidoro deceived us; he told us the captain would protect us," said a young soldier.
Their tone had already changed. It was no longer hostile.