Some of these ran about, scouring every corner of the esplanade, to prevent the escape of a single insurgent.
A gendarme who perceived Silvere under the trees, ran up to him, and seeing that it was a lad he had to deal with, called: "What are you doing there, youngster ?" Silvere, whose eyes were still fixed on those of Miette, made no reply.
"Ah! the bandit, his hands are black with powder," the gendarme exclaimed, as he stooped down.

"Come, get up, you scoundrel! You know what you've got to expect." Then, as Silvere only smiled vaguely and did not move, the other looked more attentively, and saw that the corpse swathed in the banner was that of a girl.
"A fine girl; what a pity!" he muttered.

"Your mistress, eh?
you rascal!" Then he made a violent grab at Silvere, and setting him on his feet led him away like a dog that is dragged by one leg.

Silvere submitted in silence, as quietly as a child.

He just turned round to give another glance at Miette.