There were some shouts of "Vive la Republique!" some of "Vive le Captaine Charlot!" and so they poured out of the yard, and left him to give a few hurried directions to the ten men that remained.
"Sad invalids these, as I live!" exclaimed La Boulaye over his shoulder to his followers. "Ha! There is my friend of the red redingote!"
The fellow with the bandaged head had approached Charlot and was tugging at his sleeve.
"Let be, you greasy rascal," the Captain snapped at him, to add:
"What do you say? A Deputy? Where?" The fellow pointed with his thumb in the direction of the hostelry.
"Sacred name of a name!" growled Charlot, and, turning suddenly from the men to whom he had been issuing directions, he sprang up the steps and entered the inn. As he crossed the threshold of the common room he was confronted by the tall figure of La Boulaye.
"I make you my compliments, Charlot," was Caron's greeting, "upon the vigorous health that appears to prevail in your hospital."
Tardivet stood a moment within the doorway, staring at the Deputy.
Then his brow cleared, and with a laugh, at once of welcome and amusement, he strode forward and put out his hand.
"My good Caron!" he cried. "To meet you at Boisvert is a pleasure I had not looked for."
"Are you so very sure," asked La Boulaye sardonically, as he took the outstretched hand, "that it is a pleasure?"
"How could it be else, old friend? By St. Guillotine!" he added, clapping the Deputy on the back, "you shall come to my room, and we will broach a bottle of green seal."
In some measure of wonder, La Boulaye permitted himself to be led up the crazy stairs to a most untidy room above, which evidently did duty as the Captain's parlour. A heavy brass lamp, hanging from the ceiling, a few untrustworthy chairs and a deal table, stained and unclean, were the only articles of furniture. But in almost every corner there were untidy heaps of garments Of all sorts and conditions; strewn about the floor were other articles of apparel, a few weapons, a saddle, and three or four boots; here an empty bottle, lying on its side, yonder a couple of full ones by the hearth; an odd book or two and an infinity of playing cards, cast there much as a sower scatters his seeds upon the ground.
There may be a hundred ways of apprehending the character of a man, but none perhaps is more reliable than the appearance of his dwelling, and no discerning person that stepped into Captain Tardivet's parlour could long remain in doubt of its inhabitant's pursuits and habits.
When Dame Capoulade had withdrawn, after bringing them their wine and casting a few logs upon the fire, La Boulaye turned his back to the hearth and confronted his host.
"Why are you not with the army, Charlot?" he asked in a tone which made the question sound like a demand.
"Have they not told you,"rejoined the other airily, engrossed in filling the glasses.
"I understand you were sent here to recover from a wound you received three months ago at Jemappes, and to take charge of other invalided soldiers. But seemingly, your invalids do not number more than a half-dozen out of the fifty or sixty men that are with you. How is it then, that you do not return with these to Dumouriez?"
"Because I can serve France better here," answered Charlot, "and at the same time enrich myself and my followers."
"In short," returned La Boulaye coldly, "because you have degenerated from a soldier into a brigand."
Charlot looked up, and for just a second his glance was not without uneasiness. Then he laughed. He unbuckled his sword and tossed it into a corner, throwing his hat after it.
"It was ever your way to take extreme views, Caron," he observed, with a certain whimsical regret of tone. "That, no doubt, is what has made a statesman of you. You had chosen more wisely had you elected to serve the Republic with your sword instead. Come, my friend," and he pointed to the wine, "let us pledge the Nation."
La Boulaye shrugged his shoulders slightly, and sighed. In the end he came forward and took the wine.
"Long live the Republic!" was Charlot's toast, and with a slight inclination of the head La Boulaye drained his glass.
"It is likely to live without you, Charlot, unless you mend your conduct."
"Diable!" snapped the Captain, a trifle peevishly. "Can you not understand that in my own way I am serving my country. You have called me a brigand. But you might say the same of General Dumouriez himself. How many cities has he not sacked?"