lawyer Vinet, two men drawn together, first by
their ostracism, next by their opinions. They both professed patriotism
and for the same reason,--they wished to become of consequence. The
Liberals in Provins were, so far, confined to one old soldier who kept a
cafe, an innkeeper, Monsieur Cournant a notary, Doctor Neraud, and a
few stray persons, mostly farmers or those who had bought lands of the
public domain.

The colonel and the lawyer, delighted to lay hands on a fool whose money
would be useful to their schemes, and who might himself, in certain
cases, be made to bell the cat, while his house would serve as a
meeting-ground for the scattered elements of the party, made the most of
the Rogrons' ill-will against the upper classes of the place. The
three had already a slight tie in their united subscription to the
"Constitutionnel"; it would certainly not be difficult for the colonel
to make a Liberal of the ex-mercer, though Rogron knew so little of
politics that he was capable of regarding the exploits of Sergeant
Mercier as those of a brother shopkeeper.

The expected arrival of Pierrette brought to sudden fruition the selfish
ideas of the two men, inspired as they were by the folly and ignorance
of the celibates. Seeing that Sylvie had lost all chance of establishing
herself in the good society of the place, an afterthought came to the
colonel. Old soldiers have seen so many horrors in all lands, so many
grinning corpses on battle-fields, that no physiognomies repel them; and
Gouraud began to cast his eyes on the old maid's fortune. This imperial
colonel, a short, fat man, wore enormous rings in ears that were bushy
with tufts of hair. His sparse and grizzled whiskers were called in 1799
"fins." His jolly red face was rather discolored, like those of all who
had lived to tell of the Beresina. The lower half of his big, pointed
stomach marked the straight line which characterizes a cavalry officer.
Gouraud had commanded the Second Hussars. His gray moustache hid a huge
blustering mouth,--if we may use a term which alone describes that gulf.
He did not eat his food, he engulfed it. A sabre cut had slit his nose,
by which his speech was made thick and very nasal, like that attributed
to Capuchins. His hands, which were short and broad, were of the kind
that make women say: "You have the hands of a rascal." His legs seemed
slender for his torso. In that fat and active body an absolutely lawless
spirit disported itse