For the moment the Lavilettes were popular.
Nicolas had made for them a sort of grand coup. He had for the moment
redeemed the snobbishness of two generations.
After his secret marriage, Ferrol was not seen in the village for some
days, and his presence and nationality were almost forgotten by the
people: they only thought of what was actively before their eyes. On the
fifth day after his marriage, which was Saturday, he walked down to the
village, attracted by shouting and unusual excitement. When he saw the
cause of the demonstration he had a sudden flush of anger. A flag-staff
had been erected in the centre of the village, and upon it had been run
up the French tricolour. He stood and looked at the shouting crowd a
moment, then swung round and went to the office of the Regimental
Surgeon, who met him at the door. When he came out again he carried a
little bundle under his left arm. He made straight for the crowd, which
was scattered in groups, and pushed or threaded his way to the flag-
staff. He was at least a head taller than any man there, and though he
was not so upright as he had been, the lines of his figure were still
those of a commanding personality.
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