He had visited the chambers and the huge
hall of the mill which looked out upon the river. Now, seated beside the
well, he was conversing with Pere Merlier.
"Your mill is a real fortress," he said. "We can hold it without
difficulty until evening. The bandits are late. They ought to be here."
The miller was grave. He saw his mill burning like a torch, but he
uttered no complaint, thinking such a course useless. He merely said:
"You had better hide the boat behind the wheel; there is a place there
just fit for that purpose. Perhaps it will be useful to have the boat."
The captain gave the requisite order. This officer was a handsome man
of forty; he was tall and had an amiable countenance. The sight of
Francoise and Dominique seemed to please him. He contemplated them as
if he had forgotten the coming struggle. He followed Francoise with
his eyes, and his look told plainly that he thought her charming. Then
turning toward Dominique, he asked suddenly:
"Why are you not in the army, my good fellow?"
"I am a foreigner," answered the young man.
The captain evidently did not attach much weight to this reason. He
winked his eye and smiled. Francoise was more agreeable company than a
cannon.
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