Diable! Have not I ridden in the rain these six hours past ?" La Boulaye paid no heed to him; he was too inured to this sort of insolence since the new rule had levelled all men.

But Charlot turned slowly to regard the fellow.
He was a tall man of rather slender stature, but indifferently dressed in garments that were splashed from head to foot with mud, and from which a steam was beginning to rise as he stood now with his back to the fire.

Charlot eyed him so narrowly that the fellow shifted his position and dropped his glance in some discomfort.

His speech, though rough of purport, had not been ungentle of delivery.

But his face was dirty--the sure sign of an ardent patriot--his hair hung untidy about his face, and he wore that latest abomination of the ultra-revolutionist, a dense black beard and moustache.
"My friend," said Charlot, "although we are ready to acknowledge you our equal, we should like you to understand that we do not take lessons in duty even from our equals.