“Six feet of ground in the nearest graveyard,” Gangnot finished the sentence for me, and at the word our followers sprang forward like a pack of wolves. I threw myself before their prey, while he took refuge between the bed and the wall, staring wildly out at their furious faces. He was such a miserable object, shivering there like a fat pig, without a rag to cover him that, just out of pity, I told him to get his clothes on. “We have seen enough of your hide, for one while, my friend,” said I. This made the others laugh, and seeing them in a better humor, I began to try to make them hear reason. Racquin meanwhile hurried on his clothes, his teeth chattering with cold, and an evil gleam in his eye. He knew that the danger was over for the moment; that for a day at least his life was reasonably safe, so when he was fully dressed, he plucked up his courage and went so far as to call us all rebels; threatening to punish us for insulting a magistrate. “You are no longer Magistrate,” said I. “You are dismissed by my order!” At this he turned on me; forgetting all prudence, and screaming with rage, he cried out that he knew me for a rascally trouble-maker; that I had stirred up the others to attack him, and that on me should fall the most condign punishment. “Shall I kill him?” said Gangnot, balancing his hammer. I held him back as I answered: “It is lucky for you, Racquin, that I have been ruined, for you know well enough that, if I hanged you now, people would say it was out of revenge for the fire. A halter would just suit your style of beauty, and one of these days you will certainly wear one round that fat neck of yours. But the thing is that we have got you now, and are going to strip your Alderman’s gown from your back; we are the Government here until further notice.” “You are taking your life in your hand, Breugnon.” “What if I am? I risk it for the good of the town, and if I lose, Clamecy will be the winner!” He was sent to prison forthwith, and to make room for him we released an old sergeant whom he had shut up three days before, for disobedience of orders. The sheriff and all of the staff at the Town Hall came round to our side, now that the blow was struck, declaring that Racquin was a traitor, and that they had always said so; (if they had, it was in a very low whisper). Our plan had run as smoothly as if on wheels, up to now; so much so that I was really surprised, and asked, “Where on earth are the brigands?” And just then a breathless messenger ran up to warn us that the mob was outside the Lourdeaux gate-tower, and that they were attacking Peter Poullard’s warehouse in Béyant, burning, sacking, and carrying all before them.