they knew how to kill; and, in roaming through virgin fields
still belonging to the Prussians, they shot stray dogs, cows
chewing the cud in peace, or sick horses put out to pasture. Each
believed himself called upon to play a great role in military
affairs. The cafes of the smallest villages, full of tradesmen in
uniform, resembled barracks or field hospitals.

Now, the town of Canneville did not yet know the exciting news of
the army and the Capital. It had, however, been greatly agitated
for a month over an encounter between the rival political
parties. The mayor, Viscount de Varnetot, a small, thin man,
already old, remained true to the Empire, especially since he saw
rising up against him a powerful adversary, in the great,
sanguine form of Doctor Massarel, head of the Republican party in
the district, venerable chief of the Masonic lodge, president of
the Society of Agriculture and of the Fire Department, and
organizer of the rural militia designed to save the country.

In two weeks he had induced sixty-three men to volunteer in
defense of their country--married men, fathers of families,
prudent farmers and merchants of the town. These he drilled every
morning in front of the mayor's window.

Whenever the mayor happened to appear, Commander Massarel,
covered with pistols, passing proudly up and down in front of his
troops, would make them shout, "Long live our country!" And this,
they noticed, disturbed the little viscount, who no doubt heard
in it menace and defiance, and perhaps some odious recollection
of the great Revolution.