tried another house and another, rattling the handles and knocking loudly with my stick, but not a door was opened. I could hear faint noises inside as if mice were stirring, and I understood that the miserable cowards were all hiding. This made me so angry that I cried out, "Denis Saulsoy, old man, if you don't open the door, I'll beat it down! It is I, Breugnon."
At my name all the shutters flew open as if by magic; and I saw a row of frightened faces all along Market Street, like a lot of onions lying on the window sills. They stared at me as if I were the most beautiful thing in creation, and as the terror faded from their eyes, they looked so pleased that I flattered myself that it was from affection for me; but the fact was, the sight of any one there at that hour was reassuring. Then ensued a very interesting dialogue between Breugnon and the onions; they all talked at once, and I replied as best I was able. They wanted to know where I came from, what I was doing, where I was going, how I got in, and how I meant to get out? To which Ianswered that I was glad to find that their tongues were still in working order, though their courage seemed somewhat rusty.
"I want to talk to you," I cried. "Come out! It is a charming evening, what are you all sticking
