Having finished speaking, the priest also jumped off the wall, and again the people shouted and cheered.  And now they went to work with the lists:  Henri, the Mayor, and the Cure each took a pencil, and called the names of the different men, as they were written down.  There was of course much delay in getting the men as they were called; but Chapeau had sworn in three or four assistants, and he and they dived in among the crowd, hurried this way and that, and shouted, screamed, and screeched with great effect.  The lists were made out with some regard to the localities; the men from the lower end of the village were to go to Henri’s side; those from the northern part to Father Jerome’s table; and the inhabitants of the intermediate village were checked off by the Mayor.  Chapeau and his friends were most diligent in marshalling them; to be sure, Jacques knew the names of but few of them; but he made them tell him whether they were villagers, northerns, or lower-end men; and though the men in many instances couldn’t answer this themselves, the divisions were effected, the names of all were called over, those who were there were checked off and informed what was expected of them, and where and by whom arms would be supplied to them:  and those who were not there became the unhappy victims of a black list.

Father Jerome, when he said that there were only five absent, was something but not much out in his reckoning:  his object, however, had been to make the people think that he knew exactly who was there, and who was not there; and in this he was successful.  During the calling of the lists, one or two stragglers dropped in who hoped to escape detection:  respecting a few others, some good ground of excuse was alleged; but on this head the Cure was most severe:  he would accept no plea but that of absolute downright sickness, and of this he required to have most ample testimony—­even Henri sometimes pleaded for the people, but unsuccessfully.  The Republic by their proscription would have decimated the men; the Cure of St. Laud insisted on taking them all.

The houses of those who had not presented themselves were to be visited, and the two first on the list were Jean and Peter Stein.

“Jean and Peter Stein,” said Henri.  “Why, Jacques, are they not friends of yours? are they not sons of Michael Stein, the smith?”

“Quiet, M. Henri; pray be quiet for a moment, and I will explain.”

“Are they not strong, active lads,” said the Cure, turning somewhat angrily on Chapeau, as though he were responsible for the principles of his friends.

“They are, they are, your reverence, fine strong active lads as you ever laid your eyes on.”

“And they are afraid to carry a musket for their king?”

“Not a bit, Father Jerome, not a bit afraid; nor yet unwilling, M. Henri.  I will explain it all; only let us be a little by ourselves.”

“There is a mystery, Father Jerome,” said Henri, “and Chapeau must have his own way in explaining it.”