"What do you mean by that, old woman?" said the sergeant."If you insult us it won't take long to settle you."
"I meant nothing," said the old woman, in a humble and piteous tone.
"I heard you say something just now you may have cause to repent of."
"Come, come, be calm, all of you," said the mayor of Conches, who was also the postmaster."What the devil is the use of talking? These men, as you know very well, are under orders and must obey."
"That's true; it's the owner of Les Aigues who persecutes us-- But patience!"
Just then the general rode into the square and his arrival caused a few groans which did not trouble him in the least.He rode straight up to the lieutenant in command, and after saying a few words gave him a paper; the officer then turned to his men and said: "Release your prisoners; the general has obtained their pardon."
General Montcornet was then speaking to the mayor; after a few moments' conversation in a low tone, the latter, addressing the delinquents, who expected to sleep in prison and were a good deal surprised to find themselves free, said to them:--
"My friends, thank Monsieur le comte.You owe your release to him.He went to Paris and obtained your pardon in honor of the anniversary of the king's restoration.I hope that in future you will conduct yourself properly to a man who has behaved so well to you, and that you will in future respect his property.Long live the King!"
The peasants shouted "Long live the King!" with enthusiasm, to avoid shouting, "Hurrah for the Comte de Montcornet!"
The scene was a bit of policy arranged between the general, the prefect, and the attorney-general; for they were all anxious, while showing enough firmness to keep the local authorities up to their duty and awe the country-people, to be as gentle as possible, fully realizing as they did the difficulties of the question.In fact, if resistance had occurred, the government would have been in a tight place.As Laroche truly said, they could not guillotine or even convict a whole community.
The general invited the mayor of Conches, the lieutenant, and the sergeant to breakfast.The conspirators of the Grand-I-Vert adjourned to the tavern of Conches, where the delinquents spent in drink the money their relations had given them to take to prison, sharing it with the Blangy people, who were naturally part of the wedding,--the word "wedding" being applied indiscriminately in Burgundy to all such rejoicings.To drink, quarrel, fight, eat and go home drunk and sick, --that is a wedding to these peasants.
The general, who had come by the park, took his guests back through the forest that they might see for themselves the injury done to the timber, and so judge of the importance of the question.
Just as Rigou and Soudry were on their way back to Blangy, the count and countess, Emile Blondet, the lieutenant of gendarmerie, the sergeant, and the mayor of Conches were finishing their breakfast in the splendid dining-room where Bouret's luxury had left the delightful traces already described by Blondet in his letter to Nathan.
"It would be a terrible pity to abandon this beautiful home," said the lieutenant, who had never before been at Les Aigues, and who was glancing over a glass of champagne at the circling nymphs that supported the ceiling.
"We intend to defend it to the death," said Blondet.
"If I say that," continued the lieutenant, looking at his sergeant as if to enjoin silence, "it is because the general's enemies are not only among the peasantry--"
The worthy man was quite moved by the excellence of the breakfast, the magnificence of the silver service, the imperial luxury that surrounded him, and Blondet's clever talk excited him as much as the champagne he had imbibed.
"Enemies! have I enemies?" said the general, surprised.
"He, so kind!" added the countess.
"But you are on bad terms with our mayor, Monsieur Gaubertin," said the lieutenant."It would be wise, for the sake of the future, to be reconciled with him."
"With him!" cried the count."Then you don't know that he was my former steward, and a swindler!"
"A swindler no longer," said the lieutenant, "for he is mayor of Ville-aux-Fayes."
"Ha, ha!" laughed Blondet, "the lieutenant's wit is keen; evidently a mayor is essentially an honest man."
The lieutenant, convinced by the count's words that it was useless to attempt to enlighten him, said no more on that subject, and the conversation changed.
