"As far as words go, they do," replied Jacques; "but dogs that are so ready to bark rarely bite."
He treated the subject so lightly that I thought no more of it; but about ten o'clock a woman came from the village with the news that a number of the men, armed with clubs, pikes and forks, had started off in a body for the lawyer's house. In answer to my anxious questioning she said they had been gone some time, and had taken a short cut across country.
"Saddle the horses, Jacques!" I cried; "this must be stopped. Cordel has influence enough to have every one of them broken on the wheel. Look alive, man!"
Putting on my boots hastily, I followed him to the stables, when we saddled the horses and led them out. I was in a fever of excitement lest we should not arrive at the house in time, since it was necessary for us to take the longer route by the road.
Jacques endeavoured to calm me, saying, "They will do no harm; they will only shout and threaten, and frighten the old fox half out of his wits. It won't hurt him, and it may teach him a lesson."
This was likely enough, but, fearing lest these foolish people should get themselves into trouble I galloped along, almost as fast as when my two assailants were in pursuit of me. Fortunately, we met no travellers, but, on turning into the cross-road leading to the lawyer's house, I heard a confused roar of voices. The villagers had arrived before us.
I spurred my willing beast, swept swiftly along the narrrow road, shot through the open gateway, and drew up in front of the building, where a mob of men were shouting and yelling for Etienne Cordel.
"Bring your pikes!" roared one, "and break the door down!"
"Smoke the old fox out!" yelled another; and at that a dozen cried, "Yes, yes, that's the plan! Smoke the fox out, or let him die in his den."
Some had brought torches, and in their lurid glare the peasants looked quite truculent and formidable. Pushing between them and the building, I called for silence, but the sound of my voice caused the hubbub to grow louder.