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stormed by pirates shouting, ‘Dirty beast!’
    His body was weak and weary and his heels throbbed. The noise was deafening. His flesh was turning a ghastly colour. Alain was living a nightmare. The behaviour of his fellow creatures plunged him into despair. Earlier, on his way to the fair and unaware of the horrific fate that awaited him, he had been lost in the most wonderful reverie. Now, even the devil would have cried for mercy on seeing several of Alain’s toes fly from Lamongie’s pliers and hurtle through the air.
    The schoolmaster’s wife was pulling faces at the window, sticking out her tongue and slobbering on the grimy glass.
    â€˜Hurry!’ shouted a voice. ‘Hurry, drinks are on the priest! We’ve finished off the cheap communion wine, so now he’s bringing vintage bottles up from the cellar. Everyone’s invited!’
    â€˜First I must finish clipping the Prussian’s hooves,’ said Lamongie.
    â€˜We’ll come back! Come and have a drink. Let him suffer. He won’t go far trussed up like that. Volunteers can keep watch by the door while we wet our whistles. The priest has even opened his house and the church to hold more people. Come sit on the altar and get sozzled!’
    The crowd went off, leaving Alain. He heard the door creak behind them. Five men, who must have crept around the outside of the smithy, stole into the room. There they found Alain covered in blood, still tied up, with horseshoes on his feet. He had no toes on his right foot. He was sure they would no longer want him in the army now, even on the Lorraine front. The men who had been keeping watch left to get drunk with the others.
    Mazerat and the mayor’s nephew made the most of the guards’ absence. ‘Quick, let’s free him. Those fools haven’t tied him up properly.’
    Mazerat opened a penknife and sawed at the knots. Distraught, Antony propped Alain up and supported his bleeding head, cradling him and trying to comfort him, as far as it is possible to comfort a man in such a predicament.
    â€˜Hold firm, Alain! We’ll get you out of here.’
    â€˜Is that you, Pierre?’
    â€˜Yes, it’s me. They’re monsters. They should be locked up.’
    â€˜They know not what they do.’
    Bouteaudon crouched down and cupped Alain’s face in his gentle miller’s hands. Miraculously, Alain seemed to be smiling. Dubois took out a handkerchief and dabbed at Alain’s brow, which was covered in sweat and dust. He even wiped the dried blood from Alain’s eyes, so that he could open them again. Alain was finding it difficult to catch his breath, but the presence of his solicitous friends gave him new hope.
    â€˜We must tell my mother that I’ll be back later than expected …’
    Antony looked at him sadly. He was a good, simple man and a loyal friend, and it pained him to see Alain being treated this way. Suddenly young Thibassou burst into the smithy. He grabbed a large knife from the workbench and ran off towards the church, shouting, ‘Quick! Quick! They’ve freed the Prussian!’
    Mazerat and Bouteaudon slipped their heads under Alain’s armpits to support him.
    â€˜That little bastard! Where can we take Monsieur de Monéys?’ they groaned.
    â€˜To Mousnier’s place,’ suggested Antony. ‘When he had to do some work on the inn, Alain lent him the money he needed interest free. He’ll take him in.’
    But they had barely left the smithy, heading for the town centre, when the mob arrived from the vicarage and barred their path.
    â€˜Leave him to us!’ they shouted.
    â€˜This is Alain de Monéys!’ Dubois reminded them. ‘He has never wronged anyone! He’s the only man in these parts who’ll let you gather wood in his forests if you’re short for the winter! And you can run after hares in his meadows without him setting his dogs on