Page:Colas breugnon.djvu/235

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THE RIOT
221

we came up against now were so far gone in drink that there was no use in saying a word to them; anyhow, there is a time for everything, and we had got past the talking stage; there was nothing left to us but our fists; so as drunken men are safe all the world over, we just sat them down on the stones as gently as we could and went on.

By this time we had reached the warehouse gates, and could see the looters swarming all over Master Pierre Poullard's house like ants. Some were ripping open chests and bales, bedizening themselves in stolen finery; others, with shrieks of laughter, were throwing everything breakable they could find out of the windows. The courtyard was full of wine barrels and frantic drinkers. I saw one man with his mouth to the bunghole, who having drunk till he could hold no more, rolled over on his back, the red stream still spattering in his face, and running away into little pools on the ground, where children were lapping up the wine, and mud with it.

The rioters had heaped up a great pile of furniture in a corner of the court, and had set it on fire so that they might see the better. But the whole infernal orgy centered in the cellars, where from all directions came the sound of mallets, as great barrels and tuns were staved in, and the wine