"Well, well!" cried the meeting deliriously.
"And as the population of the town of Virgamen consists of but three thousand, five hundred and seventy-five inhabitants, it would be difficult, unless the same person was killed several times———" But they did not let the luckless logician finish, and he was turned out, hustled and bruised.
"Citizens," said Pulmacher, the grocer, who usually sold groceries by retail, "whatever this cowardly apothecary may have said, I engage by myself to kill five thousand Virgamenians, if you will accept my services!"
"Five thousand, five hundred!" cried a yet more resolute patriot.
"Six thousand, six hundred!" retorted the grocer.
"Seven thousand!" cried Jean Orbideck, the confectioner of the Rue Hembling, who was on the road to fortune by making whipped creams.
"Adjudged!" exclaimed the burgomaster van Tricasse, on finding that no one else rose on the bid.
And this was how Jean Orbideck, the confectioner, became general-in-chief of the forces of Quiquendone.
CHAPTER XII
In Which Ygene, the Assistant, Gives a Reasonable Piece of Advice, Which Is Eagerly Rejected by Doctor Ox
"Well, master," said Ygene next day, as he poured the pails of sulphuric acid into the troughs of the great battery.
"Well," resumed Doctor Ox, "was I not right? See to what not only the physical developments of a whole nation, but its morality, its dignity, its talents, its political sense, have come! It is only a question of molecules."
"No doubt; but———"
"But———"
"Do you not think that matters have gone far enough, and that these poor devils should not be excited beyond measure?"
"No, no!" cried the doctor; "no! I will go on to the end!"
"As you will, master; the experiment, however, seems to me conclusive, and I think it time to———"
"To———"
"To close the valve."
"You'd better not!" cried Doctor Ox. "If you attempt it, I'll throttle you!"
CHAPTER XIII
In Which It Is Once More Proved That by Taking High Ground All Human Littlenesses May Be Overlooked
"You say?" asked the Burgomaster van Tricasse of the Counselor Niklausse.
"I say that this war is necessary," replied Niklausse, firmly, "and that the time has come to avenge this insult."
"And I repeat to you," snapped the burgomaster tartly, "that if the people of Quiquendone do not profit by this occasion to vindicate their rights, they will be unworthy of their name."
"And as for me, I maintain that we ought, without delay, to collect our forces and lead them to the front."
"Really, monsieur, really!" replied van Tricasse. "And do you speak thus to me?"
"To yourself, monsieur the burgomaster; and you shall hear the truth unwelcome as it may be."
"And you shall hear it yourself, counselor," returned van Tricasse in a passion, "for it will come better from my mouth than from yours! Yes, monsieur, yes, any delay would be dishonorable. The town of Quiquendone has waited nine hundred years for the moment to take its revenge, and whatever you may say, whether it pleases you or not, we shall march upon the enemy."
"Ah you take it thus!" replied Niklausse harshly. "Very well, monsieur, we will march without you, if it does not please you to go."
"A burgomaster's place is in the front rank, monsieur!"
"And that of a counselor also, monsieur."
"You insult me by thwarting all my wishes," cried the burgomaster, whose fists seemed likely to hit out before long.
"And you insult me equally by doubting my patriotism," cried Niklausse, who was equally ready for a tussle.
"I tell you, monsieur, that the army of Quiquendone shall be put in motion within two days!"
"And I repeat to you, monsieur, that forty-eight hours shall not pass before we shall have marched upon the enemy!"
The Counselor and the Burgomaster
It is easy to see, from this fragment of conversation, that the two speakers supported exactly the same idea. Both wished for hostilities; but as their excitement disposed them to altercation, Niklausse would not listen to van Tricasse, nor van Tricasse to Niklausse. Had they been of contrary opinions on this grave question, had the burgomaster favored war and the counselor insisted on peace, the quarrel could not have been more violent. These two old friends gazed fiercely at each other. By the quickened beating of their hearts, their red faces, their contracted pupils, the trembling of their muscles, their harsh voices, it might be conjectured that they were ready to come to blows.
But the striking of a large clock happily checked the adversaries at the moment when they seemed on the point of assaulting each other. "At last the hour has come!" cried the burgomaster.
"What hour?" asked the counselor.
"The hour to go to the belfry tower."
"It is true, and whether it pleases you or not, I shall go, monsieur."
"And I, too."
"Let us go!"
"Let us go!"
It might have been supposed from these last words that a collision had occurred, and that the adversaries were proceeding to a duel; but it was not so. It had been agreed that the burgomaster and the counselor, as the two principal dignitaries of the town, should repair to the Town Hall, and there show themselves on the high tower which overlooked Quiquendone; that they should examine the surrounding country, so as to make the best strategic plan for the advance of their troops.
Though they were in accord on this subject, they did not cease to quarrel bitterly as they went. Their
