Henriette to him, gave orders that he should be introduced at once.  The doughty captain, when he beheld another young woman in the room, surpassed himself in politeness, even accepting a cup of coffee, which he took without sugar, as he had seen many people do at Paris.  He had only asked to be received at that unusual hour, he said, that he might tell Madame he had succeeded in obtaining the pardon of one of her proteges, a poor operative in the factory who had been arrested on account of a squabble with a Prussian.  And Gilberte thereon seized the opportunity to mention Father Fouchard’s case.

“Captain, I wish to make you acquainted with one of my dearest friends, who desires to place herself under your protection.  She is the niece of the farmer who was arrested lately at Remilly, as you are aware, for being mixed up with that business of the francs-tireurs.”

“Yes, yes, I know; the affair of the spy, the poor fellow who was found in a sack with his throat cut.  It’s a bad business, a very bad business.  I am afraid I shall not be able to do anything.”

“Oh, Captain, don’t say that!  I should consider it such a favor!”

There was a caress in the look she cast on him, while he beamed with satisfaction, bowing his head in gallant obedience.  Her wish was his law!

“You would have all my gratitude, sir,” faintly murmured Henriette, to whose memory suddenly rose the image of her husband, her dear Weiss, slaughtered down yonder at Bazeilles, filling her with invincible repugnance.

Edmond, who had discreetly taken himself off on the arrival of the captain, now reappeared and whispered something in Gilberte’s ear.  She rose quickly from the table, and, announcing to the company that she was going to inspect her lace, excused herself and followed the young man from the room.  Henriette, thus left alone with the two men, went and took a seat by herself in the embrasure of a window, while they remained seated at the table and went on talking in a loud tone.

“Captain, you’ll have a petit verre with me.  You see I don’t stand on ceremony with you; I say whatever comes into my head, because I know you to be a fair-minded man.  Now I tell you your prefet is all wrong in trying to extort those forty-two thousand francs from the city.  Just think once of all our losses since the beginning of the war.  In the first place, before the battle, we had the entire French army on our hands, a set of ragged, hungry, exhausted men; and then along came your rascals, and their appetites were not so very poor, either.  The passage of those troops through the place, what with requisitions, repairing damages and expenses of all sorts, stood us in a million and a half.  Add as much more for the destruction caused by your artillery and by conflagration during the battle; there you have three millions.  Finally, I am well within bounds in estimating the loss sustained by our trade and manufactures at two millions.  What do you say to that, eh?  A grand total of five million francs for a city of thirteen thousand inhabitants!  And now you come and ask us for forty-two thousand more as a contribution to the expense of carrying on the war against us!  Is it fair, is it reasonable?  I leave it to your own sense of justice.”