The conquerors exacted money, much money. The inhabitants paid what was
asked; they were rich. But, the wealthier a Norman tradesman becomes, the
more he suffers at having to part with anything that belongs to him, at
having to see any portion of his substance pass into the hands of
another.

Nevertheless, within six or seven miles of the town, along the course of
the river as it flows onward to Croisset, Dieppedalle and Biessart,
boat-men and fishermen often hauled to the surface of the water the body
of a German, bloated in his uniform, killed by a blow from knife or club,
his head crushed by a stone, or perchance pushed from some bridge into
the stream below. The mud of the river-bed swallowed up these obscure
acts of vengeance--savage, yet legitimate; these unrecorded deeds of
bravery; these silent attacks fraught with greater danger than battles
fought in broad day, and surrounded, moreover, with no halo of romance.
For hatred of the foreigner ever arms a few intrepid souls, ready to die
for an idea.

At last, as the invaders, though subjecting the town to the strictest
discipline, had not committed any of the deeds of horror with which they
had been credited while on their triumphal march, the people grew bolder,
and the necessities of business again animated the breasts of the local
merchants. Some of these had important commercial interests at Havre
--occupied at present by the French army--and wished to attempt
to reach that port by overland route to Dieppe, taking the boat from
there.

Through the influence of the German officers whose acquaintance they had
made, they obtained a permit to leave town from the general in command.