Forgetting all discipline, they rushed forward to the end of the esplanade in order to see the soldiers.

The ranks were broken, and as the dark line of troops appeared, marching in perfect order with a long glitter of bayonets, on the other side of the greyish curtain of olive trees, there came a hasty and disorderly retreat, which sent a quiver of panic to the other end of the plateau.

Nevertheless, the contingents of La Palud and Saint-Martin-de-Vaulx had again formed in line in the middle of the promenade, and stood there erect and fierce.

A wood-cutter, who was a head taller than any of his companions, shouted, as he waved his red neckerchief: "To arms, Chavanoz, Graille, Poujols, Saint-Eutrope! To arms, Les Tulettes! To arms, Plassans!" Crowds streamed across the esplanade.

The man with the sabre, surrounded by the folks from Faverolles, marched off with several of the country contingents--Vernoux, Corbiere, Marsanne, and Pruinas--to outflank the enemy and then attack him.