Unluckily a captain had spotted him in a corridor and ordered him into uniform to rejoin his company. His protestations and explanations had proved fruitless. He therefore found himself on Place Vendome, the mustering place of the 2nd Legion - one thousand three hundred soldiers, two four-pound cannons and two eight-pound cannons. The National Guard were at the end of their tether. Some were swaying gently back and forth. Two had already collapsed in exhaustion. No one dared look up for fear of catching the eye of the colonel. So instead, everyone was staring at his horse, Beau Coureur, or Beelzebub, as he was commonly known. Saber was mad with rage. ‘I appear to be commanding a legion of scarecrows. Unfortunately our opponents are not sparrows!’ Beelzebub came spontaneously over to stand by Lefine, putting his muzzle close to Lefine’s face. The horse was said to have supernatural powers, like thinking up insults for his master to use.
