r he delivered, in a voice of supreme
unconcern.

"Citizen-captain, this is an outrage," screamed a voice in the mob. "If
blood is shed, upon your own head be it."

"Will you withdraw?" inquired the Captain coldly.

"To me, my children," cried Souvestre, brandishing his sabre, and
seeking to encourage his followers. "Down with these traitors who
dishonour the uniform of France! Death to the blue-coats!"

He leapt forward towards the military, and with a sudden roar his
followers, a full hundred strong sprang after him to the charge.

"Fire!" commanded the Captain, and from the front line of his company
fifty sheets of flame flashed from fifty carbines.

The mob paused; for a second it wavered; then before the smoke had
lifted it broke, and shrieking in terror, it fled for cover, leaving the
valorous Souvestre alone, to revile them for a swarm of cowardly rats.

The Captain put his hands to his sides and laughed till the tears
coursed down his cheeks. Checking his mirth at last, he called to
Souvestre, who was retreating in disgust and anger.

"Hi! My friend the patriot! Are you still of the same mind or will you
withdraw your people?"

"We will not withdraw," answered the giant sullenly. "You dare not fire
upon free citizens of the French Republic."

"Dare I not? Do you delude yourself with that, nor think that because
this time I fired over your heads I dare not fire into your ranks. I
give you my word that if I have to command my men to fire a second time
it shall not be mere make-believe, and I also give you my word that if
at the end of a minute I have not your reply and you are not moving out
of this--every rogue of you shall have a very bitter knowledge of how
much I dare."

Souvestre was headstrong and angry. But what can one man, however
headstrong and however angry, do against two hundred, when his own
followers refuse to support him. The valour of the peasants was
distinctly of that quality whose better part is discretion. The thunder
of that fusillade had been enough to shatter their nerve, and to
Souvestre's exhortations that they should become martyrs in the noble
cause, of the people against tyranny, in whatsoever guise it came, they
answered with the unanswerable logic of caution.

The end was that a very few moments later saw them in full retreat,
leaving the military in sole and undisputed possession of Bellecour.

The officer's first thought was for the blazing stables, and he at once
o