The crier went on reading the list,—
"Grand-Francœur, brigand."
The crowd murmured,—
"He is a priest."
"Yes, monsieur the Abbé Turmeau."
"Yes, he is a curé somewhere near the wood of la Chapelle."
"And a brigand," said a man in a cap.
The crier read,—
"Boisnouveau, brigand. The two brothers Pique-en-Bois, brigands. Houzard, brigand——"
"That is Monsieur de Quélen," said a peasant.
"Panier, brigand——"
"That is Monsieur Sepher."
"Place-Nette, brigand——"
"That is Monsieur Jamois."
The crier continued his reading without paying attention to these comments.
"Guinoiseau, brigand. Chatenay, called Robi, brigand——"
A peasant whispered: "Guinoiseau is the same as le Blond, Chatenay is Saint-Ouen."
"Hoisnard, brigand," added the crier.
And in the crowd was heard,—
"He is from Ruillé."
"Yes, that is Branche d'Or."
"He had his brother killed at the attack at Pontorson."
"Yes, Hoisnard-Malonnière."
"A fine young man, nineteen years old."
"Attention," said the crier, "Here is the end of the list,—"
"Belle-Vigne, brigand. La Mussette, brigand. Sabretout, brigand. Brin-d'Amour, brigand——"
A boy nudged a girl's elbow. The girl smiled.
The crier went on,—
"Chante-en-hiver, brigand. Le Chat, brigand——"
A peasant said: "That is Moulard."
"Tabouze, brigand——"
A peasant said: "That is Gauffre."
"There are two of the Gauffres," added a woman.
"Both good fellows," growled a rustic.
The crier shook the placard and the drum beat a ban.
