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A Beleaguered City - Being a Narrative of Certain Recent Events in the City of Semur, in the Department of the Haute Bourgogne. A Story of the Seen and the Unseen by Mrs. (Margaret) Oliphant
page 124 of 135 (91%)
the first night of our return. The withdrawal of the oppression and awe
which had been on the men, the return of everything to its natural
state, the sight of their houses unchanged, so that the brain turned
round of these common people, who seldom reflect upon anything, and they
already began to ask themselves was it all a delusion--added to the
exhaustion of their physical condition, and the natural desire for ease
and pleasure after the long strain upon all their faculties--produced an
excitement which might have led to very disastrous consequences.
Fortunately I had foreseen this. I have always been considered to
possess great knowledge of human nature, and this has been matured by
recent events. I sent off messengers instantly to bring home the women
and children, and called around me the men in whom I could most trust.
Though I need not say that the excitement and suffering of the past
three days had told not less upon myself than upon others, I abandoned
all idea of rest. The first thing that I did, aided by my respectable
fellow-townsmen, was to take possession of all _cabarets_ and
wine-shops, allowing indeed the proprietors to return, but preventing
all assemblages within them. We then established a patrol of respectable
citizens throughout the city, to preserve the public peace. I
calculated, with great anxiety, how many hours it would be before my
messengers could react: La Clairière, to bring back the women--for in
such a case the wives are the best guardians, and can exercise an
influence more general and less suspected than that of the magistrates;
but this was not to be hoped for for three or four hours at least.
Judge, then, what was my joy and satisfaction when the sound of wheels
(in itself a pleasant sound, for no wheels had been audible on the
high-road since these events began) came briskly to us from the
distance; and looking out from the watch-tower over the Porte St.
Lambert, I saw the strangest procession. The wine-carts and all the farm
vehicles of La Clairière, and every kind of country waggon, were jolting
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