"The women of Paris will lead you to it. Then you shall help yourselves."
"Show us where it is and we'll take it fast enough," was the answering cry.
"Where should it be but in the king's palace? There they are feasting while the people in Paris are starving. They shall give the people of their bread!"
"What if they have eaten it all?" asked another voice.
"Then shall the king bake more," answered the girl—"enough for every one in his kingdom. He shall be the nation's baker, and his wife shall help him knead the dough, and their little boy shall give out the loaves."
There was a laugh at this and cries of "Good! Good!"
"My friends," she continued, taking off her cap and swinging it by the tassel, "this marching is hot work, and talking is dry business. Has any one a drink for La Demoiselle Liberté?"
A number of bottles were instantly proffered her.
"This eau de vie puts new life into one," she exclaimed, throwing back her head and putting a flask to her lips. With an easy gesture she took a deep draught of the liquor, to the increasing admiration of the bystanders. On removing the bottle from her lips, she said with a nod: "How many of you men can beat that? Here goes one more." She was on the point of repeating the act when she caught sight of Tournay, who had drawn near and stood by the wheel of the truck looking at her intently.
"Here, friend, you look at this liquor thirstily; take a good pull at it. You're a likely youth, and a sup of brandy will foster your strength! What! You will not drink? Bah, man! I would not have it said that I was a little boy, afraid of good liquor. But why do you stare at me like that, without speaking? Have you no tongue?" Tournay put aside the proffered bottle and said:—