Pierre, however, proposed
to him that they should go to Granoux, whose house stood on one of
the corners of the Place des Recollets, and under whose windows the
insurgent contingents must have passed. The municipal councillor's
servant remained for a long time parleying before consenting to admit
them, and they heard poor Granoux calling from the first floor in a
trembling voice:
"Don't open the door, Catherine! The streets are full of bandits."
He was in his bedroom, in the dark. When he recognised his two faithful
friends he felt relieved; but he would not let the maid bring a lamp,
fearing lest the light might attract a bullet. He seemed to think that
the town was still full of insurgents. Lying back on an arm-chair near
the window, in his pants, and with a silk handkerchief round his head,
he moaned: "Ah! my friends, if you only knew!--I tried to go to bed, but
they were making such a disturbance! At last I lay down in my arm-chair
here. I've seen it all, everything. Such awful-looking men; a band of
escaped convicts! Then they passed by again, dragging brave Commander
Sicardot, worthy Monsieur Garconnet, the postmaster, and others away
with them, and howling the while like cannibals!"
Rougon felt a thrill of joy. He made Granoux repeat to him how he had
seen the mayor and the others surrounded by the "brigands."
"I saw it all!" the poor man wailed. "I was standing behind the blind.
They had just seized Monsieur Peirotte, and I heard him saying as he
passed under my window: 'Gentlemen, don't hurt me!' They were certainly
maltreating him.
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