Then their eyes still continued to
gaze at one another.
The conflict, however, was at an end. The death of the receiver of
taxes had satiated the soldiers. Some of these ran about, scouring every
corner of the esplanade, to prevent the escape of a single insurgent.
A gendarme who perceived Silvere under the trees, ran up to him, and
seeing that it was a lad he had to deal with, called: "What are you
doing there, youngster?"
Silvere, whose eyes were still fixed on those of Miette, made no reply.
"Ah! the bandit, his hands are black with powder," the gendarme
exclaimed, as he stooped down. "Come, get up, you scoundrel! You know
what you've got to expect."
Then, as Silvere only smiled vaguely and did not move, the other looked
more attentively, and saw that the corpse swathed in the banner was that
of a girl.
"A fine girl; what a pity!" he muttered. "Your mistress, eh? you
rascal!"
Then he made a violent grab at Silvere, and setting him on his feet led
him away like a dog that is dragged by one leg. Silvere submitted in
silence, as quietly as a child. He just turned round to give another
glance at Miette. He felt distressed at thus leaving her alone under the
trees. For the last time he looked at her from afar. She was still lying
there in all her purity, wrapped in the red banner, her head slightly
raised, and her big eyes turned upward towards heaven.
CHAPTER VI
It was about five o'clock in the morning when Rougon at last ventured to
leave his mother's house.
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