was plainly stated, and a delay of twenty-four hours was accorded to the guilty city in which to repair the outrage done to Quiquendone.
The letter was sent off, and returned a few hours afterwards, torn to bits, which made so many fresh insults. The Virgamenians knew of old the forebearance and equanimity of the Quiquendonians, and made sport of them and their demand, of their casus belli and their ultimatum.
There was only one thing left to do,—to have recourse to arms, to invoke the God of battles, and, after the Prussian fashion, to hurl themselves upon the Virgamenians before the latter could be prepared.
This decision was made by the council in solemn conclave, in which cries, objurgations, and menacing gestures were mingled with unexampled violence. An assembly of idiots, a congress of madmen, a club of maniacs, would not have been more tumultuous.
Assembling the Troops
As soon as the declaration of war was known, General Jean Orbideck assembled his troops, perhaps two thousand, three hundred and ninety-three combatants from a population of two thousand, three hundred and ninety-three souls. The women, the children, the old men, were joined with the able-bodied males. The guns of the town had been put under requisition. Five had been found, two of which were without cocks, and these had been distributed to the advance guard. The artillery was composed of the old culverin of the chateau, taken in 1339 at the attack on Quesnoy, one of the first occasions of the use of cannon in history, and which had not been fired off for five centuries. Happily for those who were appointed to take it in charge, there were no projectiles with which to load it; but such as it was, this engine might well impose on the enemy. As for side-arms, they had been taken from the museum of antiquities,—flint hatchets, helmets, Frankish battle axes, javelins, halberds, rapiers, and so on; and also out of those domestic arsenals commonly known as "cupboards" and "kitchens." But courage, the right, hatred of the foreigner, the yearning for vengeance, were to take the place of more perfect engines, and to replace—at least it was hoped so—the modern machine guns and breech-loaders.
The troops were passed in review. Not a citizen failed at the roll call. General Orbideck, whose seat on horse-back was far from firm, and whose steed was a vicious beast, was thrown three times in front of the army; but he got up again without injury, and this was regarded as a favorable omen. The burgomaster, the counselor, the civil commissary, the chief justice, the school teacher, the banker, the rector,—in short, all the notabilities of the town,—marched at the head. There were no tears shed, either by mothers, sisters, or daughters. They urged on their husbands, fathers, brothers to the combat and even followed them and formed the rear guard, under the orders of the courageous Madam van Tricasse.
The crier, Jean Mistrol, blew his trumpet; the army moved off, and directed itself, with ferocious cries, towards the Oudenarde gate.
Shutting Off the Oxygen
At the moment when the head of the column was about to pass the walls of the town, a man threw himself before it.
"Stop! stop! Fools that you are!" he cried. "Suspend your blows! Let me shut the valve! You are not changed in nature! You are good citizens, quiet and peacable! If you are so excited, it is my master, Doctor Ox's, fault! It is an experiment! Under the pretext of lighting your streets with oxyhydric gas, he has saturated"
The assistant was beside himself; but he could not finish. At the instant that the doctor's secret was about to escape his lips, Doctor Ox himself pounced upon the unhappy Ygene in an indescribable rage, and shut his mouth by blows with his fist.
It was a battle. The burgomaster, the counselor, the dignitaries, who had stopped short on Ygene's sudden appearance, carried away in turn by their exasperation, rushed upon the two strangers, without waiting to hear either the one or the other.
Doctor Ox and his assistant, beaten and lashed, were about to be dragged, by order of van Tricasse, to the roundhouse, when
CHAPTER XV
In Which the Denouement Takes Place
When a formidable explosion resounded. All the atmosphere which enveloped Quiquendone seemed on fire. A flame of an intensity and vividness quite unwonted shot up into the heavens like a meteor. Had it been night, this flame would have been visible for ten leagues around.
The whole army of Quiquendone fell to the earth, like an army of monks. Happily there were no victims; a few scratches and slight hurts were the only result. The confectioner, who, as chance would have it, had not fallen from his horse this time, had his plume singed, and escaped without any further injury.
What had happened?
Something very simple, as was soon learned; the gas works had just blown up. During the absence of the doctor and his assistant, some careless mistake had no doubt been made. It is not known how or why a communication had been established between the reservoir which contained the oxygen and that which inclosed the hydrogen. An explosive mixture had resulted from the union of these two gases, to which fire had accidentally been applied.
This changed everything; but when the army got upon its feet again, Doctor Ox and his assistant Ygene had disappeared.
CHAPTER XVI
In which the Intelligent Reader Sees that he has Guessed Correctly, Despite All the Author’s Precautions
After the explosion, Quiquendone immediately became the peaceable, phlegmatic, and Flemish town that it formerly was.
After the explosion, which indeed did not cause a very lively sensation, each one, without knowing why, mechanically took his way home, the burgomaster leaning on the counselor's arm, the advo--
(Continued on page 477)
