the Conversions were? I will tell you.
There were cursed Huguenots in the country then, Jules, bad
citizens, unruly rascals every one of them, and our good king
commanded that they should instantly return to the true faith. Some
of them were obstinate, and they, see you, had to be converted. We
called it conversion by lodgings, and, my faith, it was excellent
sport. They quartered some of us on any household that was
unwilling to obey the king, and there we remained until they saw
the error of their ways.

"My faith! some were hard to convert. The owner of this place, for
instance. We were here for a month, and never lived better in our
lives. The fool! He had a pretty daughter, too, and I fell in love
with her. The farmer objected, and one day had the insolence to
strike me. That was treason, of course, and the least we could do,
especially as he was so obstinate in the matter of his conversion,
was to burn his farm. He shot one of my men while we were at the
work, and--well, we hanged him. That was twelve years ago."

The sergeant laughed. I, who had heard something from my father of
King Lewis' treatment of his Huguenot subjects--of the Dragonnade,
as it was called, and the sufferings of the poor people at the
hands of the brutal soldiery--I, who knew of this, was shocked at
the callous levity of the captain's speech; and I could have struck
the fat, foolish face of the sergeant for his chuckle.

"What fools men are!" the captain went on. "Who would have supposed
that these rascals of deserters would make for the very place where
they would most readily be discovered! But all these peasants are
simpletons. If you, now, were to desert, Jules, you would not
return to Meaux, would you? You are a townsman, and have more
sense. But these peasants--bah! cattle, no more."

I thought the sergeant's laugh at this rang a trifle hollow. He was
not a soft-hearted man in appearance, but perhaps he had some
fellow feeling for poor men dragged from their work at the plough
to serve in the army of the Grand Monarque. His next words
surprised me, for I had not understood the captain's reference to
deserters.

"Shall we give them something to eat, mon capitaine?" he asked.

"Decidedly not," said the officer with an oath. "They have led us a
pretty dance, and what's the good of food to men about to be shot!"

"But they may fall from exhaustion before we reach Rennes,"
suggested the sergeant, "and that may cause delay. They hav