could put in a thimble, he had allowed himself to be torn in pieces.
The only official that remained in the town was the fourth Alderman, a man named Racquin, who finding himself deserted by his colleagues, and opposed by this raging mob, was weak, or cunning enough, to yield to it, instead of trying to put a stop to its depredations. He even allowed the mob to set fire to the houses of men against whom he had a grudge for one reason or another, myself among the number.
"What are the citizens doing all this time?" I asked.
"Nothing, now that their leaders are gone; they are like lambs led to the slaughter."
"Well, how about me, Binet? This old ram has some fight left in him still, so come along!"
"You are crazy. Master! What could you do, one man, against hundreds of brigands?"
"Do? — the best I can, of course; why should I be afraid of robbers, now that I have not a penny left in the world? Come on, I say."
Now, would you believe it? that boy actually turned a handspring on the road for joy, in spite of his burned hand, and bruises, and began to dance about and shout that this was the greatest sport he had ever heard of.
