ile the priest shook with laughter, and said to the sister:
"Never mind; just this once, it will not hurt them. Do leave them
alone."

After the two fowls they ate the duck, which was flanked by the three
pigeons and the blackbird, and then the goose appeared, smoking,
golden-brown, and diffusing a warm odor of hot, browned roast meat. La
Paumelle, who was getting lively, clapped her hands; La Jean-Jean left
off answering the baron's numerous questions, and La Putois uttered.
grunts of pleasure, half cries and half sighs, as little children do
when one shows them candy. "Allow me to take charge of this animal,"
the cure said. "I understand these sort of operations better than most
people." "Certainly, Monsieur l'Abbe," and the sister said: "How would
it be to open the window a little? They are too warm, and I am afraid
they will be ill."

I turned to Marchas: "Open the window for a minute." He did so; the cold
outer air as it came in made the candles flare, and the steam from the
goose, which the cure was scientifically carving, with a table napkin
round his neck, whirl about. We watched him doing it, without speaking
now, for we were interested in his attractive handiwork, and seized with
renewed appetite at the sight of that enormous golden-brown bird, whose
limbs fell one after another into the brown gravy at the bottom of the
dish. At that moment, in the midst of that greedy silence which kept us
all attentive, the distant report of a shot came in at the open window.

I started to my feet so quickly that my chair fell down behind me, and
I shouted: "To saddle, all of you! You, Marches, take two men and go and
see what it is. I shall expect you back here in five minutes." And while
the three riders went off at full gallop through the night, I got into
the saddle with my three remaining hussars, in front of the steps of the
villa, while the cure, the sister and the three old women showed their
frightened faces at the window.

We heard nothing more, except the barking of a dog in the distance. The
rain had ceased, and it was cold, very cold, and soon I heard the gallop
of a horse, of a single horse, coming back. It was Marchas, and I called
out to him: "Well?" "It is nothing; Francois has wounded an old peasant
who refused to answer his challenge: 'Who goes there?' and who continued
to advance in spite of the order to keep off; but they are bringing him
here, and we shall see what is the matter."

I gave orders fo