“But they do not mean it?” I exclaimed.

“As far as words go, they do,” replied Jacques; “but dogs that are so ready to bark rarely bite.”

He treated the subject so lightly that I thought no more of it; but about ten o’clock a woman came from the village with the news that a number of the men, armed with clubs, pikes and forks, had started off in a body for the lawyer’s house.  In answer to my anxious questioning she said they had been gone some time, and had taken a short cut across country.

“Saddle the horses, Jacques!” I cried; “this must be stopped.  Cordel has influence enough to have every one of them broken on the wheel.  Look alive, man!”

Putting on my boots hastily, I followed him to the stables, when we saddled the horses and led them out.  I was in a fever of excitement lest we should not arrive at the house in time, since it was necessary for us to take the longer route by the road.

Jacques endeavoured to calm me, saying, “They will do no harm; they will only shout and threaten, and frighten the old fox half out of his wits.  It won’t hurt him, and it may teach him a lesson.”

This was likely enough, but, fearing lest these foolish people should get themselves into trouble I galloped along, almost as fast as when my two assailants were in pursuit of me.  Fortunately, we met no travellers, but, on turning into the cross-road leading to the lawyer’s house, I heard a confused roar of voices.  The villagers had arrived before us.

I spurred my willing beast, swept swiftly along the narrrow road, shot through the open gateway, and drew up in front of the building, where a mob of men were shouting and yelling for Etienne Cordel.

“Bring your pikes!” roared one, “and break the door down!”

“Smoke the old fox out!” yelled another; and at that a dozen cried, “Yes, yes, that’s the plan!  Smoke the fox out, or let him die in his den.”

Some had brought torches, and in their lurid glare the peasants looked quite truculent and formidable.  Pushing between them and the building, I called for silence, but the sound of my voice caused the hubbub to grow louder.

“Monsieur Edmond!” they yelled, giving me the name by which I was best known to them; “Bravo, bravo, we will see justice done, monsieur!”

“Be quiet!” I cried angrily, “and listen to me.  Do you know what you are doing?”

“Yes, yes.  Burn the house down!  He set the murderers on!”

“Who told you that?”

“Let him deny it!  Where is he?  Fetch him out!”

They were excited, even dangerous; I almost doubted if my influence was sufficient to keep them from doing mischief; yet in ordinary times they were as docile and obedient as a flock of sheep.  They vowed they would not depart unless Cordel came out to them, and at length the lawyer appeared on the balcony which ran along the front of the house above the ground floor.