Monsieur Joseph became paler and graver, Angelot more restless, the
Prefect sleepier, as the rough voice talked on. Angelot thought
breakfast would never be over, and that this brute would never have done
boasting of his fine deeds, such as hanging up six brothers in a row
outside their own house, and threatening the mother and sisters with the
same fate unless they showed him the way to the cellar, where he knew
they had hidden plate and jewellery, as well as a quantity of good wine.

"You would not have done it, monsieur?" said Angelot, quickly.

The General assured him with oaths that he certainly would.

"And they knew it, and did as they were told," he said. "We did not hurt
them, as it happened. We stripped the house, and left them to bury their
men, if they chose. What had they to expect? Fortune of war, my boy!"

Angelot shrugged his shoulders.

"You should send that nephew of yours to learn a few things in the
army," the General said to Monsieur Joseph, when they at last rose and
left the dining-room. "He will grow up nothing but an ignorant, womanish
baby, if you keep him down here among your woods much longer."

"I am not his father," Monsieur Joseph answered with some dryness. "He
is a friend of the Prefect's; you can easily remonstrate with him,
Monsieur le General. But you are mistaken about young Ange. He is
neither a girl nor a baby, but a very gallant young fellow, still humane
and innocent, of course--but your stories might pierce a thicker skin, I
fancy."

The General laughed aloud, as they strolled out at the back of the house
into the afternoon sunshine.

"Well, well, a soldier has the right to talk," he said. "I need not tell
a man who knows the world, like you, that I should never have hanged
those women--poor country rubbish though they were, and ugly too, I
remember. But the men had tried to resist, and martial law must be
obeyed."

Some reassurance of the same kind was given to Angelot by the Prefect,
who lingered behind with him.

"And our conscripts go for this, monsieur!" Angelot said.

"My dear boy," said Monsieur de Mauves, lazily, "you must take these
tales _cum grano_. For instance, if I know the Emperor, he would have
shot the man who hanged those women. And our friend Ratoneau knew it."

Les Chouettes seemed stiller than ever, the sun hotter, the atmosphere
more sleepy and peaceful. The dogs were lying in various directions at
full length on the sand. The sleeping forms o