be quaking with terror, and the retired
citizens of the new town had certainly never handled a gun in their
lives. Moreover, there were no arms any more than there were soldiers.
Thus Macquart did not even take the precaution to have the gates shut.
His men carried their confidence still further by falling asleep, while
he calmly awaited the dawn which he fancied would attract and rally all
the Republicans of the district round him.

He was already meditating important revolutionary measures; the
nomination of a Commune of which he would be the chief, the imprisonment
of all bad patriots, and particularly of all such persons as had
incurred his displeasure. The thought of the baffled Rougons and their
yellow drawing-room, of all that clique entreating him for mercy,
thrilled him with exquisite pleasure. In order to while away the time he
resolved to issue a proclamation to the inhabitants of Plassans. Four
of his party set to work to draw up this proclamation, and when it was
finished Macquart, assuming a dignified manner in the mayor's arm-chair,
had it read to him before sending it to the printing office of the
"Independant," on whose patriotism he reckoned. One of the writers was
commencing, in an emphatic voice, "Inhabitants of Plassans, the hour
of independence has struck, the reign of justice has begun----" when a
noise was heard at the door of the office, which was slowly pushed open.

"Is it you, Cassoute?" Macquart asked, interrupting the perusal.

Nobody answered; but the door opened wider.

"Come in, do!" he continued, impatiently. "Is my brigand of a brother at
home?"

Then, all at once both leaves of the door were violently thrown back
and slammed against the walls, and a crowd of armed men, in the midst of
whom marched Rougon, with his face very red and his eyes starting out
of their sockets, swarmed into the office, brandishing their guns like
cudgels.

"Ah! the blackguards, they're armed!" shouted Macquart.

He was about to seize a pair of pistols which were lying on the
writing-table, when five men caught hold of him by the throat and held
him in check. The four authors of the proclamation struggled for an
instant. There was a good deal of scuffling and stamping, and a noise
of persons falling. The combatants were greatly hampered by their guns,
which they would not lay aside, although they could not use them. In the
struggle, Rougon's weapon, which an insurgent had tried to wrest from
him, went