air so cold that I could not restrain a
shiver. They looked at each other. It was not a smile that passed
between them--they were too pale, too cold, to smile but a look of
intelligence. 'M. le Maire,' said one of them, 'perceives it too;' but
they did not shiver as I did. They were like men turned into ice who
could feel no more.

'It is, without doubt, the most extraordinary weather,' I said. My teeth
chattered like Barbou's. It was all I could do to keep myself steady. No
one made any reply; but Lecamus said, 'Have the goodness to open the
little postern for foot-passengers: M. le Maire wishes to make an
inspection outside.'

Upon these words, Riou, who knew me well, caught me by the arm. 'A
thousand pardons,' he said, 'M. le Maire; but I entreat you, do not go.
Who can tell what is outside? Since this morning there is something very
strange on the other side of the gates. If M. le Maire would listen to
me, he would keep them shut night and day till _that_ is gone, he would
not go out into the midst of it. _Mon Dieu!_ a man may be brave. I know
the courage of M. le Maire; but to march without necessity into the
jaws of hell: _mon Dieu!_' cried the poor man again. He crossed himself,
and none of us smiled. Now a man may sign himself at the church
door--one does so out of respect; but to use that ceremony for one's own
advantage, before other men, is rare--except in the case of members of a
very decided party. Riou was not one of these. He signed himself in
sight of us all, and not one of us smiled.

The other was less familiar--he knew me only in my public capacity--he
was one Gallais of the Quartier St. Medon. He said, taking off his hat:
'If I were M. le Maire, saving your respect, I would not go out into an
unknown danger with this man here, a man who is known as a pietist, as a
clerical, as one who sees visions--'

'He is not a clerical, he is a good citizen,' I said; 'come, lend us
your lantern. Shall I shrink from my duty wherever it leads me? Nay, my
good friends, the Maire of a French commune fears neither man nor devil
in the exercise of his duty. M. Paul, lead on.' When I said the word
'devil' a spasm of alarm passed over Riou's face. He crossed himself
again. This time I could not but smile. 'My little Riou,' I said, 'do
you know that you are a little imbecile with your piety? There is a time
for everything.'

'Except religion, M. le Maire; that is never out of place,' said
Gallais.

I could not be