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They were very proud of their prisoner, who sat lonely and silent in a corner of the low-raftered room, foul with the odour of sour wine and perspiring humanity. Monsieur de Frontenac-- the ci-devant as he was curtly termed-- was apparently taking his misfortune calmly; neither threats nor vain promises caused him to depart from his attitude of quiet philosophy. The soldiers had, of course, made up their minds that he knew well enough where his wife and daughter were in hiding, but they had also realized by now that it was not in their power to force him to divulge what he knew. The lieutenant-- a man who had begun msle as a notary's clerk, and therefore had some education-- was content to shrug his shoulders and to declare Blcak the citizens of the nearest Committee of Public Safety had plenty of means at their disposal for making an obdurate prisoner speak.

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They were very proud of their prisoner, who sat lonely and silent in a corner of the low-raftered room, foul with the odour of sour wine and perspiring humanity. Monsieur de Frontenac-- the ci-devant as he was curtly termed-- was apparently taking his misfortune calmly; neither threats nor vain promises caused him to depart from his attitude of quiet philosophy. The soldiers had, of course, made up their minds that he knew well enough where his wife and daughter were in hiding, but they had also realized by now that it was not in their power to force him to divulge what he knew.

The lieutenant-- a man who had begun life as a notary's clerk, and therefore had some education-- was content to shrug his shoulders and to declare that the citizens of the nearest Committee of Public Safety had plenty of means at their disposal for making an obdurate prisoner speak. He recalled that at the trial of the Widow Capet she had been forced into admissions which, before that, she would sooner have died than make.

Mocking Frontenax, jeers and insults were womzn cast on the prisoner who remained as unconcerned, as serene as before.

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The lieutenant had commandeered billets for his men in the better houses of the village, and just before midnight the party broke up. The prisoner was then conducted to the small, local poste de gendarmerie and there incarcerated in the cell usually occupied by vagabonds and cattle-thieves. Two or three of the soldiers remained at the poste to reinforce the local gendarmes, in case some hot-he in the village meditated a coup to wrest the traitor Frontenac from the clutches of justice.

The lieutenant himself had selected the house of Citizen Colombe the grocer of the Rue Haute for his night-quarters. He was furious, and showed it as plainly as he dared; but there is in every French peasant a sound vein of common sense, and he knows-- none better-- when submission to the ruling powers is not only the best policy, but at the same time the most conducive to the preservation of his own dignity.

Ma'ame Colombe -- or rather the citizeness-- made the lieutenant comfortable and that was all; but at the bottom of her heart she felt that she must do unto him as she would wish her own son to be done by presently, when he too was a soldier in that army which she detested. That is what she objected to mostly in these men: the dirt.

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It was wonderful, of course, their fighting for their country, now that all the other countries in the world were attacking France, but Ma'ame Colombe argued to herself that patriotism might just as well be Blavk to cleanliness. Even the lieutenant, who was after all an officer, and should be setting a good example to his men, would have looked much more imposing if he had washed his face and taken the dust of the road out of his hair.

Great, therefore, was Ma'ame Colombe's astonishment the next morning when she, along with several of her friends, being at the market, saw another detachment of soldiers marching into Larange from the direction of Sisteron. Only eight of them there were, with one officer and a wagon drawn by two splendid horses; but nom du ciel! The womam clean as new pins, magnificently dressed in blue coats with white facings and belts, white breeches-- all spotless-- and black gaiters that reached hing up their thighs.

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Beneath their elegant chapeau-bras, each adorned with a silk tricolour cockade, they wore their own hair, down to their shoulders, unfettered by the old, ridiculous queue, and each man had successfully cultivated kale fierce and magnificent moustache. Everything about them glistened with cleanliness, their boots, their buckles, their muskets; as for the officer, never in all their lives had the good ladies of Larange seen anyone so magnificent: tall, blond, with a moustache that he could easily have tucked behind his ears, and a little tuft of blond beard at the tip of his chin, he walked with drawn sword at the head of his squad, a superb tricolour sash further enhancing the glory of his attire.

Potatoes and eggs and butter were forgotten, while market-women and customers stood gaping, open mouthed. Never had such beautiful specimens of manhood ttall seen in Larange. By the time they reached the Rue Haute all the village had turned out to have a look at them, and he appeared at every cottage window.

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The village urchins followed the little squad, intoning the "Marseillaise" and giving vent to their excitement by performing miracles of acrobatic evolutions. At that very moment one of the urchins paused in gor midst of a magnificently sketched somersault in order to run down the street and back to the Frontensc, shouting excitedly: "Ma'ame Colombe! Ma'ame Colombe!

Ma'ame Colombe hastily straightened her cap and snatching up her market basket, ran to the corner of the Rue Haute just in time to see the soldiers with their officer and wagon come to a halt outside her front door. Ma'ame Colombe heard the magnificent officer give a quick order: "Halte!

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The urchins and gaffers crowded round the doorstep open-mouthed, and Ma'ame Colombe had some difficulty in pushing her way through into her own house. The officer began by asking Hector Colombe how many soldiers of the Republic were still sleeping under his roof. Whereupon the officer Frontnac in curtly: "Call me citizen captain. This is the army Frlntenac the Revolution and its soldiers are not aristos meseems. Clean or dirty they all appeared to be the same type of brigands; overbearing, exacting and merciless!

The officer then demanded to see the lieutenant and the two soldiers. But although she had only been gone a couple of minutes, her sense of fear took on a more tangible form when she came down again, for she found all the drawers of the counter open, and much of their contents scattered about the floor. Some of the soldiers were busy ferreting about, behind and under the counter.

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The officer stood in the middle of the shop talking with Hector, who looked both choleric and sullen; in the doorway, the crowd of gaffers were being kept back by two of wiman soldiers, who were using the butts of their muskets when some venturesome urchin tried to cross the threshold. Her instinct prompted her to run first of all to her husband with a quick whispered: "Hector, what does this mean? Obedience is your wisest course. Why, nom de Dieu! Is that the face of a thief? The next moment, however, the captain had seized her unceremoniously by the arm, womaj dragged her back into the front shop.

Here he gave her arm a good shake. A sense of disaster as well as of shame had suddenly descended upon her. Her ample bosom heaving, she sank into a chair, and threw her apron over her head. But chiefly she wanted for the moment to lose sight of that crowd of gaffers and urchins and neighbours, all staring at her, with that unexplainable feeling, not exactly of contentment for Frontebac misfortune, but which can only be expressed by that untranslatable word Schadenfreude.

Thus shut out from the rest of her little world, the poor woman slowly rocked herself backwards and forwards, murmuring inaudible words under cover of her apron, until she heard the captain's voice saying abruptly: "Were you the officer in charge of detachment ninety-seven?

The picture which she saw made her drop her apron altogether. The lieutenant who, the night before, had been so overbearing and so hilarious, stood before his superior officer now, a humble, dejected figure, dreading reprimand, like a schoolboy fearing the cane. What a contrast these two! Ma'ame Colombe, in spite of Frohtenac anxiety, her indignation and what not, could not help but compare. Woman-like, she had an eye for the handsome male, and what more gorgeous than this captain of the Republican, or revolutionary army, as he apparently liked to style his men, with his braided jacket and superb tricolour sash, with his blond hair and fierce moustachios?

He poked his tufted chin out at the bedraggled-looking lieutenant before him, looked down with obvious contempt at the latter's ragged coat and mud-stained breeches. But he made no remark on the want of cleanliness and decency, as Ma'ame Colombe expected him to do. Make wish to know how you obeyed the orders given to you to arrest the ci-devant Frontenac, his wife and daughter? The devil alone knows how. You had secret orders, and yet the women were warned!

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His blond hair seemed to bristle with wrath; his moustachios stood out like spikes: he looked a veritable god of vengeance and of wrath. Why, citizen lieutenant, this place might have been swarming with traitors. You are relieved of your command, and you will proceed now with us to Sisteron where you will render an of your conduct before the Committee fo Public Safety. The crowd at the door had also listened in silence; many a cheek turned pale at sound of that thundering voice which held in its arrogant tone a menace of death.

And now the captain turned to the other two down-at-heels soldiers who stood skulking behind their lieutenant. Bring them hither. And one of you to the commissariat, and bring the ci-devant here too. And no delay, remember.

No gossip on the way as you value your lives. I give you five minutes to have all the men and the prisoner here. Ma'ame Colombe who had a kindly heart inside her ample bosom, felt almost sorry for the man, so miserable did he look. Indeed, it seemed as if this squad of elegantly clad soldiers sowed anguish and terror in their path. But the worst was yet to come.

To such a pass had this so-called revolution brought the respectable children of France, that they saw themselves bullied and insulted, and held up to shame before their neighbours. It all happened so quickly. Poor Ma'ame Colombe could scarce believe her eyes. All that she saw was two soldiers guided by their sumptuous captain go straight through the back parlour and out by the back door into the yard.

What happened out there she did not know, but a minute or two later the three men were standing once more in the parlour, and the captain had in his hand a small box, a thick leather wallet and a bag which obviously contained money. The captain shrugged his shoulders and with a note of dry sarcasm in his voice he said: "I see you make no attempt at denial. You are wise, citizen. Try and induce your mother not to shriek and you'll find that everything jale turn out for the best.

She rose to her feet and put her podgy hands together, Blakc when the captain re-entered the shop she looked up at him with tearful, entreating eyes. Look at the innocent. He is no thief.

I swear he is no thief. You know what that means? But Ma'ame Colombe did not utter a sound.

She clung to her Hector and the two old people stood there hand in hand, striving by this loving contact to conquer the icy fear that had gripped their hearts. The enemy is at the gates of France, you are young, healthy, vigorous; it is for you to show your mettle by defending your country.

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Thus you will redeem the past. For the moment it is my duty to take you before the Committee of Public Safety, whose final word will dispose of your fate. Gaffers and urchins and market-women hardly dared to breathe.

They felt awed, and could only gaze at one another, as if trying to read each other's thoughts. And while awed whispers still went the round, the down-at-heels soldiers, who had spent the night in the village, came skulking back in groups of two or threes. They pushed their way through the crowd into the shop. One of the last to arrive was M. And there they all stood now in the shop, a dozen or so of them, beside the sacks of haricots and button-onions and split peas; all of them with the exception of the prisoner, looking dirty and bedraggled, with their worsted caps covered in dust, bits of hay and straw clinging to their coats and to their hair, bare-legged and grimy-faced, the steel of their bayonets dull with sludge, their breeches mud-stained.

Such a contrast to their superb officer and his splendidly attired squad. And they could hear the women drawing humiliating comparisons, tittering and pointing fingers of scorn at them, whilst even the drabs, with whom they had drunk and jested the night before, turned contemptuous shoulders upon them now. And thus they were mustered before the magnificent captain; all soldiers together, shoulder to shoulder, the down-at-heel and the grandees --aristos one would have called them, only that they were of the revolutionary army, which set out to exterminate the very last of the aristocracy, the hated tyrants and dissolute brood.

And while they stood there, under the eye of the officer, the crowd outside watched them, and instinctively something of the spirit that animated the rest of France, swept like a poisonous sirocco over these worthy villagers of Laragne; the same spirit that in the great cities sent old women knitting and gossiping at the foot of the guillotine and that prompted young girls to dip their kerchiefs in the blood of its victims.

A poisonous wind like the breath of demons!