emy was barricaded and, waving
his weapon above his head, roared at the top of his lungs: "Long live
the Republic! Death to traitors!" Then he fell back where his officers
were. The butcher, the baker, and the apothecary, feeling a little
uncertain, put up their shutters and closed their shops. The grocery
alone remained open.

Meanwhile the men of the militia were arriving, little by little,
variously clothed, but all wearing caps, the cap constituting the whole
uniform of the corps. They were armed with their old, rusty guns, guns
that had hung on chimney-pieces in kitchens for thirty years, and
looked quite like a detachment of country soldiers.

When there were about thirty around him, the Commander explained in a
few words, the state of affairs. Then, turning toward his major, he
said: "Now, we must act."

While the inhabitants collected, talked over and discussed the matter,
the doctor quickly formed his plan of campaign:

"Lieutenant Picard, you advance to the windows of the mayor's house and
order M. de Varnetot to turn over the townhall to me, in the name of
the Republic."

But the lieutenant was a master-mason and refused.

"You are a scamp, you are. Trying to make a target of me! Those fellows
in there are good shots, you know that. No, thanks! Execute your
commissions yourself!"

The Commander turned red: "I order you to go in the name of
discipline," said he.

"I am not spoiling my features without knowing why," the lieutenant
returned.

Men of influence, in a group near by, were heard laughing. One of them
called out: "You are right, Picard, it is not the proper time." The
doctor, under his breath, muttered: "Cowards!" And, placing his sword
and his revolver in the hands of a soldier, he advanced with measured
step, his eye fixed on the windows, as if he expected to see a gun or a
cannon pointed at him.

When he was within a few steps of the building the doors at the two
extremities, affording an entrance to two schools, opened, and a flood
of little creatures, boys on one side, girls on the other, poured out
and began playing in the open space, chattering around the doctor like
a flock of birds. He scarcely knew what to make of it.

As soon as the last were out, the doors closed. The greater part of the
little monkeys finally scattered and then the Commander called out in a
loud voice,

"Monsieur de Varnetot?" A window in the first story opened and M. de
Varnetot appeared.

The Commande