Within an Inch of His Life | Page 4

house which stands at the corner of Castle Street.
This was the house of the mayor of Sauveterre, M. Seneschal, a former
lawyer, and now a member of the general council.
Having alighted, the peasant seized the bell-knob, and began to ring so
furiously, that, in a few moments, the whole house was in an uproar.
A minute later, a big, stout servant-man, his eyes heavy with sleep,
came and opened the door, and then cried out in an angry voice,--
"Who are you, my man? What do you want? Have you taken too much
wine? Don't you know at whose house you are making such a row?"
"I wish to see the mayor," replied the peasant instantly. "Wake him
up!"
M. Seneschal was wide awake.
Dressed in a large dressing-gown of gray flannel, a candlestick in his
hand, troubled, and unable to disguise his trouble, he had just come
down into the hall, and heard all that was said.
"Here is the mayor," he said in an ill-satisfied tone. "What do you want
of him at this hour, when all honest people are in bed?"
Pushing the servant aside, the peasant came up to him, and said,
making not the slightest attempt at politeness,--
"I come to tell you to send the fire-engine."
"The engine!"

"Yes; at once. Make haste!"
The mayor shook his head.
"Hm!" he said, according to a habit he had when he was at a loss what
to do; "hm, hm!"
And who would not have been embarrassed in his place?
To get the engine out, and to assemble the firemen, he had to rouse the
whole town; and to do this in the middle of the night was nothing less
than to frighten the poor people of Sauveterre, who had heard the
drums beating the alarm but too often during the war with the Germans,
and then again during the reign of the Commune. Therefore M.
Seneschal asked,--
"Is it a serious fire?"
"Serious!" exclaimed the peasant. "How could it be otherwise with
such a wind as this,--a wind that would blow off the horns of our oxen."
"Hm!" uttered the mayor again. "Hm, hm!"
It was not exactly the first time, since he was mayor of Sauveterre, that
he was thus roused by a peasant, who came and cried under his window,
"Help! Fire, fire!"
At first, filled with compassion, he had hastily called out the firemen,
put himself at their head, and hurried to the fire.
And when they reached it, out of breath, and perspiring, after having
made two or three miles at double-quick, they found what? A wretched
heap of straw, worth about ten dollars, and almost consumed by the fire.
They had had their trouble for nothing.
The peasants in the neighborhood had cried, "Wolf!" so often, when
there was no reason for it, that, even when the wolf really was there, the
townspeople were slow in believing it.
"Let us see," said M. Seneschal: "what is burning?"
The peasant seemed to be furious at all these delays, and bit his long
whip.
"Must I tell you again and again," he said, "that every thing is on
fire,--barns, outhouses, haystacks, the houses, the old castle, and every
thing? If you wait much longer, you won't find one stone upon another
in Valpinson."
The effect produced by this name was prodigious.
"What?" asked the mayor in a half-stifled voice, "Valpinson is on fire?"
"Yes."

"At Count Claudieuse's?"
"Of course."
"Fool! Why did you not say so at once?" exclaimed the mayor.
He hesitated no longer.
"Quick!" he said to his servant, "go and get me my clothes. Wait, no!
my wife can help me. There is no time to be lost. You run to Bolton,
the drummer, you know, and tell him from me to beat the alarm
instantly all over town. Then you run to Capt. Parenteau's, and explain
to him what you have heard. Ask him to get the keys of the
engine-house.--Wait!--when you have done that, come back and put the
horse in.--Fire at Valpinson! I shall go with the engine. Go, run, knock
at every door, cry, 'Fire! Fire!' Tell everybody to come to the
New-Market Square."
When the servant had run off as fast as he could, the mayor turned to
the peasant, and said,--
"And you, my good man, you get on your horse, and reassure the count.
Tell them all to take courage, not to give up; we are coming to help
them."
But the peasant did not move.
"Before going back to Valpinson," he said, "I have another commission
to attend to in town."
"Why? What is it?"
"I am to get the doctor to go back with me."
"The doctor! Why? Has anybody been hurt?"
"Yes, master, Count Claudieuse."
"How imprudent! I suppose