Roland sees in his dispatches that in Rouen， as elsewhere， they crowd the municipalities for their passports，[81] but that these are often refused. Better still， at Troyes； at Meaux， at Lyons， at D？le， and in many other towns， the same thing is done as at Paris； they are confined in particular houses or in prisons， at least， provisionally， "for fear that they may congregate under the German eagle"； so that， made rebellious and declared traitors in spite of themselves， they may still remain in their pens subject to the knife. As the exportation of specie is prohibited， those who have procured the necessary coin are robbed of it on the frontier， while others， who fly at all hazards， tracked like wild boars， or run down like hares， escape like the bishop of Barral， athwart bayonets， or like the abbé Guillon， athwart sabers， when they are not struck down， like the abbé Pescheur， by the blows of a gun-stock.[82]
It is soon dawn. The files are too numerous and too large； Roland finds that， out of eighty-three， he can examine but fifty； he must hasten on； leaving the East， his eyes again turn to the South. -- On this side， too， there are strange sights. On the 2nd of September， at Chalons-sur-Marne[83]， M. Chanlaire， an octogenarian and deaf， is returning， with his prayer-book under his arm， from the Mall， to which he resorted daily to read his prayers. A number of Parisian volunteers who meet him， seeing that he looks like a devotee， order him to shout， "Vive la Liberté" Unable to understand them， he makes no reply. They then seize him by the ears， and， not marching fast enough， they drag him along； his old ears give way， and， excited by seeing blood， they cut off his ears and nose， and thus， the poor old man dripping with blood， they reach the H？tel-de-Ville. At this sight a notary， posted there as sentinel， and who is a man of feeling， is horror-stricken and escapes， while the other National Guards hasten to shut the iron gates. The Parisians， still dragging along their captive， go to the district and then to the department bureau "to denounce aristocrats"； on the way they continue to strike the tottering old man， who falls down； they then decapitate him， place pieces of his body on pikes， and parade these about. Meanwhile， in this same town， twenty-two gentlemen； at Beaune， forty priests and nobles； at Dijon， eighty-three heads of families， locked up as suspected without evidence or examination， and confined at their own expense two months under pikes， ask themselves every morning whether the populace and the volunteers， who shout death cries through the streets， mean to release them in the same way as in Paris.[84] -- Atrifle is sufficient to provoke a murder. On the 19th of August， at Auxerre as the National Guard is marching along， three citizens， after having taken the civic oath， "left the ranks，" and， on being called back， "to make them fall in，" one， either impatient or in ill-humor， "replied with an indecent gesture". The populace， taking it as an insult， instantly rush at them， and shoving aside the municipal body and the National Guards， wound one and kill the other two.[85] Afortnight after， in the same town， several young ecclesiastics are massacred， and "the corpse of one of them remains three days on a manure heap， the relatives not being allowed to bury it." About the same date， in a village of sabot makers， five leagues from Autun， four ecclesiastics provided with passports， among them a bishop and his two grand-vicars， are arrested， then examined， robbed， and murdered by the peasantry. --Below Autun， especially in the district of Roanne， the villagers burn the rent-rolls of national property； the volunteers put property-owners to ransom； both， apart from each other or together， give themselves up "to every excess and to every sort of iniquity against those whom they suspect of incivism under pretense of religious opinions."[86] However preoccupied or upset Roland's mind may be by the philosophic generalities with which it is filled， he has long inspected manufactures in this country； the name of every place is familiar to him； objects and forms are this time clearly defined to his arid imagination， and he begins to see things through and beyond mere words.