nal vengeance of which he spoke,
could be taken as guaranteeing his loyalty. It was arranged that each of
them who was a sportsman and had a gun at home should fetch it, and
that the band should assemble at midnight in the neighbourhood of
the town-hall. A question of detail very nearly put an end to their
plans--they had no bullets; however, they decided to load their weapons
with small shot: and even that seemed unnecessary, as they were told
that they would meet with no resistance.

Once more Plassans beheld a band of armed men filing along close to the
houses, in the quiet moonlight. When the band was assembled in front of
the town-hall, Macquart, while keeping a sharp look-out, boldly advanced
to the building. He knocked, and when the door-keeper, who had learnt
his lesson, asked what was wanted, he uttered such terrible threats,
that the man, feigning fright, made haste to open the door. Both leaves
of it swung back slowly, and the porch then lay open and empty before
them, while Macquart shouted in a loud voice: "Come on, my friends!"

That was the signal. He himself quickly jumped aside, and as the
Republicans rushed in, there came, from the darkness of the yard, a
stream of fire and a hail of bullets, which swept through the gaping
porch with a roar as of thunder. The doorway vomited death. The
national guards, exasperated by their long wait, eager to shake off the
discomfort weighing upon them in that dismal court-yard, had fired a
volley with feverish haste. The flash of the firing was so bright, that,
through the yellow gleams Macquart distinctly saw Rougon taking aim. He
fancied that his brother's gun was deliberately levelled at himself,
and he recalled Felicite's blush, and made his escape, muttering: "No
tricks! The rascal would kill me. He owes me eight hundred francs."

In the meantime a loud howl had arisen amid the darkness. The surprised
Republicans shouted treachery, and fired in their turn. A national guard
fell under the porch. But the Republicans, on their side, had three
dead. They took to flight, stumbling over the corpses, stricken with
panic, and shouting through the quiet lanes: "Our brothers are being
murdered!" in despairing voices which found no echo. Thereupon the
defenders of order, having had time to reload their weapons, rushed into
the empty square, firing at every street corner, wherever the darkness
of a door, the shadow of a lamp-post, or the jutting of a stone made
them fancy