the habit of requesting good citizens to join the armies of the Republic
for such time as their services might be necessary; and, having finished
it, he rolled up the piece of paper, stuck it into his belt, as he might
soon require the use of his hands, and, walking quite close up to the
group, said--

"Come, Peter Berrier, you are not such a fool, I hope, as to intend
giving us any trouble. Come along."

Peter looked first into the farmer's face; then to his master's; and,
lastly, to the postillion's; and, seeing that they were all evidently
firm in their resolve, he plucked up spirit, and replied.--"Why, Mr
Corporal, I have no inclination just at present to go to fight for the
Republic. You see I have no quarrel yet with my master here, M. Debedin,
and he cannot well spare me. I am afraid, Mr Corporal, I must decline."

"That's nonsense, you know," growled the corporal; "you must come, you
know; and as well first as last. I don't want to be uncivil to a
comrade, and I'd be sorry to have to lay a hand on you."

"Then you'd better keep your hands off," said Cathelineau, "we quiet
people in St. Florent don't bear handling well."

The corporal looked up at the postillion, but he soon saw that he wasn't
joking.

"Take my word for it, my friend," continued Cathelineau, "Peter Berrier
does not wish to be a soldier, and, if you force him to become one, it
is not on the side of the Republic that he will be found fighting."