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Updated: May 19, 2025
He was plainly to be seen from every street with the white silk flag with its "fleur-de-lis," and the soldiers were shooting at him from every window of the two barracks, but Passauf raised his flag in spite of them and came down and hid himself in the barn of the "Trois Maisons," while the marines were searching the town for him to kill him.
In appearance, at least, Doctor Ox had agreed to light the town, which had much need of it, "especially at night," as Commissary Passauf wittily said.
Notwithstanding this bit of philosophy, I read Catharine's letter slowly to him. When I had ended, he took it, and for a long time gazed at it dreamily, and then handed it back, saying: "There! Josephel. She is a good girl, and a sensible one, and will never marry any one but you." "Do you really think so?" "Yes; you may rely upon her; she will never marry a Passauf.
Commissary Passauf, who was present at the party, saw the storm coming distinctly, but he could not control it or fly from it, and he felt a kind of intoxication entering his own brain. All his physical and emotional faculties increased in intensity. He was seen, several times, to throw himself upon the confectionery and devour the dishes, as if he had just broken a long fast.
The day after that on which Commissary Passauf had made his noisy entrance into the burgomaster's parlour, Gédéon Ygène and Doctor Ox were talking in the laboratory which both occupied in common, on the ground-floor of the principal building of the gas-works. "Well, Ygène, well," cried the doctor, rubbing his hands.
Lotchè, recovering her coolness, had plucked up courage to speak. "Who is there?" "It is I! I! I!" "Who are you?" "The Commissary Passauf!" The Commissary Passauf! The very man whose office it had been contemplated to suppress for ten years. What had happened, then? Could the Burgundians have invaded Quiquendone, as they did in the fourteenth century?
But when I first received a furlough and reached home, what did I hear? Margrédel had been three months married to a shoemaker, named Passauf." "You may imagine my wrath, Josephel; I could not see clearly; I wanted to demolish everything; and, as they told me that Passauf was at the Grand-Cerf brewery, thither I started, looking neither to the right nor left.
"There I have witnessed such an altercation as Monsieur the burgomaster, they have been talking politics!" "Politics!" repeated Van Tricasse, running his fingers through his wig. "Politics!" resumed Commissary Passauf, "which has not been done for perhaps a hundred years at Quiquendone.
No event of less importance could have so moved Commissary Passauf, who in no degree yielded the palm to the burgomaster himself for calmness and phlegm. On a sign from Van Tricasse for the worthy man could not have articulated a syllable the bar was pushed back and the door opened. Commissary Passauf flung himself into the antechamber. One would have thought there was a hurricane.
There were daily quarrels and altercations in the once deserted but now crowded streets of Quiquendone; for nobody could any longer stay at home. It was necessary to establish a new police force to control the disturbers of the public peace. A prison-cage was established in the Town Hall, and speedily became full, night and day, of refractory offenders. Commissary Passauf was in despair.
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