He raised his coarse, heavy face towards him with an effort; then, fancying he was being asked the name of his village, he said in his hoarse voice: "I come from Poujols." A burst of laughter ran through the crowd, and some voices cried: "Release the peasant." "Bah!" Rengade replied; "the more of this vermin that's crushed the better.

As they're together, they can both go." There was a murmur.
But the gendarme turned his terrible blood-stained face upon the onlookers, and they slunk off.

One cleanly little citizen went away declaring that if he remained any longer it would spoil his appetite for dinner.

However some boys who recognised Silvere, began to speak of "the red girl." Thereupon the little citizen retraced his steps, in order to see the lover of the female standard-bearer, that depraved creature who had been mentioned in the "Gazette." Silvere, for his part, neither saw nor heard anything; Rengade had to seize him by the collar.

Thereupon he got up, forcing Mourgue to rise also.
"Come," said the gendarme.