Granoux had had one broken.
He mentioned the circumstance with stammerings of terror.
Meantime, the most acute anxiety agitated the yellow drawing-room. The
commander had sent his servant to obtain some information as to the
exact movements of the insurgents, and the others awaited this man's
return, making the most astonishing surmises. They had a full meeting.
Roudier and Granoux, sinking back in their arm-chairs, exchanged the
most pitiable glances, whilst behind them moaned a terror-stricken group
of retired tradesmen. Vuillet, without appearing over scared, reflected
upon what precautions he should take to protect his shop and person; he
was in doubt whether he should hide himself in his garret or cellar,
and inclined towards the latter. For their part Pierre and the commander
walked up and down, exchanging a word ever and anon. The old oil-dealer
clung to this friend Sicardot as if to borrow a little courage from
him. He, who had been awaiting the crisis for such a long time, now
endeavoured to keep his countenance, in spite of the emotion which was
stifling him. As for the marquis, more spruce and smiling than usual, he
conversed in a corner with Felicite, who seemed very gay.
At last a ring came. The gentlemen started as if they had heard a
gun-shot. Dead silence reigned in the drawing-room when Felicite went to
open the door, towards which their pale, anxious faces were turned. Then
the commander's servant appeared on the threshold, quite out of breath,
and said abruptly to his master: "Sir, the insurgents will be here in an
hour.
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