There was silence for a moment, during which the guests looked at one another.

“Gentlemen, you have not said a word about the army!” cried Genestas.  “A military organization seems to me to be the real type on which all good civil society should be modeled; the Sword is the guardian of a nation.”

The justice of the peace laughed softly.

“Captain,” he said, “an old lawyer once said that empires began with the sword and ended with the desk; we have reached the desk stage by this time.”

“And now that we have settled the fate of the world, gentlemen, let us change the subject.  Come, captain, a glass of Hermitage,” cried the doctor, laughing.

“Two, rather than one,” said Genestas, holding out his glass.  “I mean to drink them both to your health—­to a man who does honor to the species.”

“And who is dear to all of us,” said the cure in gentle tones.

“Do you mean to force me into the sin of pride, M. Janvier?”

“M. le Cure has only said in a low voice what all the canton says aloud,” said Cambon.

“Gentlemen, I propose that we take a walk to the parsonage by moonlight, and see M. Janvier home.”

“Let us start,” said the guests, and they prepared to accompany the cure.

“Shall we go to the barn?” said the doctor, laying a hand on Genestas’ arm.  They had taken leave of the cure and the other guests.  “You will hear them talking about Napoleon, Captain Bluteau.  Goguelat, the postman, is there, and there are several of his cronies who are sure to draw him out on the subject of the idol of the people.  Nicolle, my stableman, has set a ladder so that we can climb up on to the hay; there is a place from which we can look down on the whole scene.  Come along, an up-sitting is something worth seeing, believe me.  It will not be the first time that I have hidden in the hay to overhear a soldier’s tales or the stories that peasants tell among themselves.  We must be careful to keep out of sight though, as these folk turn shy and put on company manners as soon as they see a stranger.”

“Eh! my dear sir,” said Genestas, “have I not often pretended to be asleep so as to hear my troopers talking out on bivouac?  My word, I once heard a droll yarn reeled off by an old quartermaster for some conscripts who were afraid of war; I never laughed so heartily in any theatre in Paris.  He was telling them about the Retreat from Moscow.  He told them that the army had nothing but the clothes they stood up in; that their wine was iced; that the dead stood stock-still in the road just where they were; that they had seen White Russia, and that they currycombed the horses there with their teeth; that those who were fond of skating had fine times of it, and people who had a fancy for savory ices had as much as they could put away; that the women were generally poor company; but that the only thing they could really complain of was the want of hot water for shaving.  In fact, he told them such a pack of absurdities, that even an old quartermaster who had lost his nose with a frost-bite, so that they had dubbed him Nezrestant, was fain to laugh.”