populace.

The great man smiled, but did not salute, on account of the firearms
hindering him. Moreover, he knew now on what popular favour
depends; it may even be that in the depths of his soul he cursed his
terrible fellow-townsfolk, who obliged him to go away and leave
his pretty little pleasure-house with whitened walls and green
venetians. But there was no show of this.

Calm and proud, although a little pallid, he stepped out on the
footway, glanced at the hand-carts, and, seeing all was right, lustily
took the road to the railway-station, without even once looking
back towards Baobab Villa. Behind him marched the brave
Commandant Bravida, Ladevese the Chief Judge, Costecalde the
gunsmith next, and then all the sportsmen who pop at caps,
preceding the hand-carts and the rag, tag, and bobtail.

Before the station the station-master awaited them, an old African
veteran of 1830, who shook Tartarin's hand many times with
fervency.

The Paris-to-Marseilles express was not yet in, so Tartarin and his
staff went into the waiting-rooms. To prevent the place being
overrun, the station-master ordered the gates to be closed.

During a quarter of an hour, Tartarin promenaded up and down in
the rooms in the midst of his brother marksmen, speaking to them
of his journey and his hunting, and promising to send them skins;
they put their names down in his memorandum-book for a lionskin
apiece, as waltzers book for a dance.