The sudden apparition of this
strange being seemed easily explained. At first sight some of the
officers took him for a recruit or conscript (the words were used
indiscriminately) who had outstripped the column. But the commandant
himself was singularly surprised by the man's presence; he showed no
alarm, but his face grew thoughtful. After looking the intruder well
over, he repeated, mechanically, as if preoccupied with anxious
thought: "Yes, why don't they come on? do you know, you?"
"Because," said the gloomy apparition, with an accent which proved his
difficulty in speaking French, "there Maine begins" (pointing with his
huge, rough hand towards Ernee), "and Bretagne ends."
Then he struck the ground sharply with the handle of his heavy whip
close to the commandant's feet. The impression produced on the
spectators by the laconic harangue of the stranger was like that of a
tom-tom in the midst of tender music. But the word "harangue" is
insufficient to reproduce the hatred, the desires of vengeance
expressed by the haughty gesture of the hand, the brevity of the
speech, and the look of sullen and cool-blooded energy on the
countenance of the speaker. The coarseness and roughness of the man,
--chopped out, as it seemed by an axe, with his rough bark still left
on him,--and the stupid ignorance of his features, made him seem, for
the moment, like some half-savage demigod.
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