a burning desire came upon him for some immediate foretaste of his revenge.  So he dressed himself again and went out.  Perhaps he might meet Miette.  In that case he was resolved to treat her insolently.  This is how he came to witness the arrival of the insurgents, whom he followed to the town-hall with a vague presentiment that he would find the lovers there.  And, indeed, he at last caught sight of his cousin on the seat where she was waiting for Silvere.  Seeing her wrapped in her long pelisse, with the red flag at her side, resting against a market pillar, he began to sneer and deride her in foul language.  The girl, thunderstruck at seeing him, was unable to speak.  She wept beneath his abuse, and whist she was overcome by sobbing, bowing her head and hiding her face, Justin called her a convict’s daughter, and shouted that old Rebufat would give her a good thrashing should she ever dare to return to Jas-Meiffren.

For a quarter of an hour he thus kept her smarting and trembling.  Some people had gathered round, and grinned stupidly at the painful scene.  At last a few insurgents interfered, and threatened the young man with exemplary chastisement if he did not leave Miette alone.  But Justin, although he retreated, declared that he was not afraid of them.  It was just at this moment that Silvere came up.  Young Rebufat, on catching sight of him, made a sudden bound, as if to take flight; for he was afraid of him, knowing that he was much stronger than himself.  He could not, however, resist the temptation to cast a parting insult on the girl in her lover’s presence.

“Ah!  I knew very well,” he cried, “that the wheelwright could not be far off!  You left us to run after that crack-brained fellow, eh?  You wretched girl!  When’s the baptism to be?”

Then he retreated a few steps further on seeing Silvere clench his fists.

“And mind,” he continued, with a vile sneer, “don’t come to our house again.  My father will kick you out if you do!  Do you hear?”

But he ran away howling, with bruised visage.  For Silvere had bounded upon him and dealt him a blow full in the face.  The young man did not pursue him.  When he returned to Miette he found her standing up, feverishly wiping her tears away with the palm of her hand.  And as he gazed at her tenderly, in order to console her, she made a sudden energetic gesture.  “No,” she said, “I’m not going to cry any more, you’ll see.  I’m very glad of it.  I don’t feel any regret now for having left home.  I am free.”

She took up the flag and led Silvere back into the midst of the insurgents.  It was now nearly two o’clock in the morning.  The cold was becoming so intense that the Republicans had risen to their feet and were marching to and fro in order to warm themselves while they finished their bread.  At last their leaders gave orders for departure.  The column formed again.  The prisoners were placed in the middle of it.  Besides Monsieur Garconnet and Commander Sicardot, the insurgents had arrested Monsieur Peirotte, the receiver of taxes, and several other functionaries, all of whom they led away.