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Updated: May 16, 2025
I will go and find out where the wine is hidden away. "I went off to reconnoiter the deserted streets, until they ended in the open country, so as to post my sentries there. "Half an hour later I was back, and found Marchas lounging in a great armchair, the covering of which he had taken off, from love of luxury as he said.
Marchas guided us, going before us on foot, and leading his horse by the bridle. "'Where are you taking us to? I asked him. And he replied: 'I have a place for us to lodge in, and a rare good one. And soon we stopped before a small house, evidently belonging to some person of the middle class, completely shut up, built on to the street with a garden in the rear.
Here and there a light was burning in a room; some family had remained to keep its house standing as well as they were able; a family of brave or of poor people. The rain began to fall, a fine, icy cold rain, which froze as it fell on our cloaks. The horses stumbled against stones, against beams, against furniture. Marchas guided us, going before us on foot, and leading his horse by the bridle.
He is sure to know his female parishioners on the tips of his fingers, and if there is one to suit us, and you manage it well, he will suggest her to you." "Come, come, Marchas, what are you thinking of?" "My dear Garens, you can do this quite well. It will even be very funny. We are well bred, by Jove! and we will put on our most distinguished manners and our grandest style.
"I managed to find the brandy under the pear tree, and the champagne under the steps; and yet there was nothing to guide me, while as for you, a petticoat is a sure bait. Go and look, old fellow." He looked so grave, so convinced, that I could not tell whether he was joking or not, and so I replied: "Look here, Marchas, are you having a joke with me?" "I never joke on duty."
It was Marchas, and I called out to him: 'Well? 'It is nothing; François 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.
He had feared a surprise, some marauders' ambush, and he smiled as he replied: "Good-day, my friend; come in." I followed him into a small room with a red tiled floor, in which a small fire was burning, very different to Marchas' furnace, and he gave me a chair and said: "What can I do for you?"
"As soon as we were opposite our plates, the Sister clapped her hands three times, and, with the precision of soldiers presenting arms, the women made a rapid sign of the cross, and then the priest slowly repeated the 'Benedictus' in Latin. Then we sat down, and the two fowls appeared, brought in by Marchas, who chose to wait rather than to sit down as a guest at this ridiculous repast.
"He went out with me, still laughing, and left me, repeating: 'That is capital; in half an hour at Bertin-Lavaille's house. "I returned quickly, very much astonished and very much puzzled. 'Covers for how many? Marchas asked, as soon as he saw me. "'Eleven. There are six of us hussars besides the priest and four ladies. "He was thunderstruck, and I triumphant, and he repeated 'Four ladies!
Then the cure, Marchas, and I took a mattress into the room to lay the wounded man on; the sister tore up a table napkin in order to make lint, while the three frightened women remained huddled up in a corner.
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