"Yes—I have just left my aunt in the rue St. Honoré," says Adrienne, sinking down on the cushions. Mr. Morris put his head out of the window.
"Drive on, Martin!" he calls out. "To Mr. Jefferson's." But it is impossible for the plunging horses to move, so dense is the mob and so threatening its attitude.
"They are arming themselves with stones," he says, looking out again. "We are in a pretty pass between this insane mob and the cavalry, which is advancing!" Suddenly he bursts the door open and, standing on the coach-step, so that he is well seen, he calls out, "Drive on there, Martin! Who stops an American's carriage in Paris?"
As he made his appearance at the coach-door a shout went up, and a man standing near and pointing to Mr. Morris's wooden stump, cries out, "Make way for the American patriot crippled in the Revolution!" At his words a great cheer goes up, and Mr. Morris, scrambling back into the coach, bursts out into such a hearty laugh that Calvert, and Adrienne, too, in spite of her fright, cannot refrain from joining in it. The people fall back and a lane is formed, through which Martin urges his horses at a gallop.
"'Twill be a good story to tell Mr. Jefferson," says Mr. Morris, when he can speak. "I think this wooden stump has never done such yeoman service as to-day."
"If I am not mistaken, that was my friend Bertrand," says Calvert, looking back at the man who had started the cheer for Mr. Morris.
They had scarce got through the mob when the cavalry, advancing, were met by a shower of stones.
"The captain is hit," says Calvert, still looking out of the coach-window. Pale with fear, Adrienne laid her hand on his arm and Calvert covered it with one of his. In a few minutes they were out of sight of the fray and, driving as rapidly as possible up the Champs Elysées, were soon at the door of the Legation.
Mr. Jefferson was not at home, but in a few moments he came in with the account of having been stopped also at the Place Louis Quinze as he returned from a visit to Monsieur de Lafayette and a confirmation of the news regarding Necker's dismissal.
"It is sufficiently clear with what indignation the people regard the presence of troops in the city," he said, "and by to-morrow they will make known, I have no doubt, their equally bitter indignation at the removal of Necker. Affairs are coming rapidly to a crisis; the Palais Royal is this evening in a state of the wildest agitation, so d'Azay has just told me, and, indeed, the city is not safe, even on the boulevards. I shall take you back, Madame," he went on, turning to Adrienne. "I believe the carriage of the American Minister will be treated with respect even by this insane mob."