And, certainly, if I had not been shaken completely out of the common rut of thought, I should have found something odd, myself, in the combination of the three men whom I found on the terrace. They were walking up and down, Father Benôit, with downcast eyes and his hands behind him, in the middle. On one side of him moved Buton, coarse, heavy-shouldered, and clumsy, in his stained blouse; on the other side paced the stranger of last night, a neat, middle-sized man, very plainly dressed, with riding boots and a sword. Remembering that he had formed one of Louis' party, I was surprised to see that he wore the tricolour; but I forgot this in my anxiety to know what had become of the others. Without standing on ceremony, I asked him. "They attacked the rioters, lost one man, and were beaten off," he answered with dry precision. "And M. le Comte?" "Was not hurt. He returned to Cahors, to raise more men. I, as my advice seemed to be taken in ill part, came here." He spoke in a blunt, straightforward way, as to an equal; and at once seemed to be, and not to be, a gentleman. The Curé, seeing that he puzzled me, hastened to introduce him. "This, M. le Vicomte," he said, "is M. le Capitaine Hugues, late of the American Army. He has placed his services at the disposal of the Committee." "For the purpose," the Captain went on, before I had made up my mind how to take it, "of drilling and commanding a body of men to be raised in Quercy to keep the peace. Call them militia; call them what you like." I was a good deal taken aback. The man, alert, active, practical, with the butt of a pistol peeping from his pocket, was something new to me. "You have served his Majesty?" I said at last, to gain time to think. "No," he answered. "There are no careers in that army, unless you have so many quarterings. I served under General Washington." "But I saw you last night with M. de St. Alais?" "Why not, M. le Vicomte?" he answered, looking at me plainly. "I heard that a house was being burned. I had just arrived, and I placed myself at M. le Comte's disposal. But they had no method, and would take no advice." "Well," I said, "these seem to me to be rather extreme steps. You know----" "M. de Marignac's house was burned last night," the Curé said softly. "Oh!" "And I fear that we shall hear of others. I think that we must look matters in the face, M. le Vicomte." "It is not a question of thinking or looking, but of doing!" the Captain said, interrupting him harshly. "We have a long summer's day before us, but if by to-night we have not done something, there will be a sorry dawning in Quercy to-morrow." "There are the King's troops," I said. "They refuse to obey orders. Therefore, they are worse than useless." "Their officers?" "They are staunch; but the people hate them. A knight of St. Louis is to the mob what a red rag is to a bull. I can answer for it that they have enough to do to keep their men in barracks, and guard their own heads."