It was at this moment that Roudier entered.  It at once occurred to the old woman that he had become much more polite.  His “Monsieur” and “Madame” rolled forth in delightfully musical fashion.  But the other habitues were now arriving one after the other; and the drawing-room was fast getting full.  Nobody yet knew the full particulars of the events of the night, and all had come in haste, with wondering eyes and smiling lips, urged on by the rumours which were beginning to circulate through the town.  These gentlemen who, on the previous evening, had left the drawing-room with such precipitation at the news of the insurgents’ approach, came back, inquisitive and importunate, like a swarm of buzzing flies which a puff of wind would have dispersed.  Some of them had not even taken time to put on their braces.  They were very impatient, but it was evident that Rougon was waiting for some one else before speaking out.  He constantly turned an anxious look towards the door.  For an hour there was only significant hand-shaking, vague congratulation, admiring whispering, suppressed joy of uncertain origin, which only awaited a word of enlightenment to turn to enthusiasm.

At last Granoux appeared.  He paused for a moment on the threshold, with his right hand pressed to his breast between the buttons of his frock-coat; his broad pale face was beaming; in vain he strove to conceal his emotion beneath an expression of dignity.  All the others became silent on perceiving him; they felt that something extraordinary was about to take place.  Granoux walked straight up to Rougon, through two lines of visitors, and held out his hand to him.

“My friend,” he said, “I bring you the homage of the Municipal Council.  They call you to their head, until our mayor shall be restored to us.  You have saved Plassans.  In the terrible crisis through which we are passing we want men who, like yourself, unite intelligence with courage.  Come—­”

At this point Granoux, who was reciting a little speech which he had taken great trouble to prepare on his way from the Town Hall to the Rue de la Banne felt his memory fail him.  But Rougon, overwhelmed with emotion, broke in, shaking his hand and repeating:  “Thank you, my dear Granoux; I thank you very much.”

He could find nothing else to say.  However, a loud burst of voices followed.  Every one rushed upon him, tried to shake hands, poured forth praises and compliments, and eagerly questioned him.  But he, already putting on official dignity, begged for a few minutes’ delay in order that he might confer with Messieurs Granoux and Roudier.  Business before everything.  The town was in such a critical situation!  Then the three accomplices retired to a corner of the drawing-room, where, in an undertone, they divided power amongst themselves; the rest of the visitors, who remained a few paces away, trying meanwhile to look extremely wise and furtively glancing at them with mingled admiration and curiosity.  It was decided that Rougon should take the title of president of the Municipal Commission; Granoux was to be secretary; whilst, as for Roudier, he became commander-in-chief of the reorganised National Guard.  They also swore to support each other against all opposition.