Then the post-master went to a cupboard and brought out a couple of pistols, which he loaded and pushed into the tails of Charras's coat. I should like to mention this excellent fellow's name, but who knows whether his patriotism of 1830 might not get him into trouble in 1853? The two wounded men fell asleep, ordering the postillions to put the horses between the shafts. Generally, postillions proved true patriots, and, although Charras could not give them large tips out of his twenty francs, they acquitted themselves conscientiously, by driving fast and changing horses quickly. Moreover, the post-master of Bourget had advised the two young men to send a second postillion on ahead of them; since M. Chardel's order proscribed no limits, it cost them no more to do this. All went well as far as Ribécourt. Here they woke Charras. "What is the matter?" asked the sleeper, rubbing his eyes. "The post-master will not give us any horses," said the head-postillion, who had been obliged to stop there because of this refusal. "What! the post-master won't give us horses!" "No; he says he does not know anything about the Provisional Government." Charras, who had been hunting for it long and vainly, very nearly said he did not know anything about it either; but this was not the moment for joking; time was flying. He left Lothon still asleep, who had not heard him when he cried out, "You are killing me!" and had therefore no right to hear anything else. Leaping from the trap, he ran to the post-master, who was furious at being waked at two in the morning, and stood on his doorstep with the evident intention of contesting the point. "So you do not intend to give me horses?" asked Charras. "That is so." "In spite of the order from the Director of Posts?" "I don't know this man Chardel!" "Ah! So you do not know Chardel?" "No." Charras drew the proclamation from his pocket. "Do you know that signature?" "La Fayette? Not any more than the other!" "No?" "No!" Charras next drew his pistols from his pocket, cocking them at the same moment as he placed them against the postmaster's breast-- "Ah!... Very well, do you recognise these?" he said. "But, monsieur," exclaimed the man, "what are you going to do?" "Going to do? By Jove! To kill you, if you don't give me horses!" "But, monsieur, devil take it! men do not kill people like that ... they explain things." "Yes, when they have time, which I have not." The postillions, ranged behind the post-master, were grinning in the shadow, rubbing their hands and making signs to Charras to stick to it. They need not have been anxious on this score. "Well, then, monsieur, if you take up such an attitude as that, I must give you horses; but be very sure it is only because you compel me by force to do so." "What does that matter to me so long as you give them me!" "Horses for these gentlemen!" said the post-master, returning to his room and yielding the battlefield to Charras.