Suddenly a dull noise shook the courts of the Temple, and sounds were heard in the distance like the roaring of a hurricane.
"What is that?" asked Dixmer of Tison.
"Oh!" replied the jailer, "it is nothing; some little uproar these rascally Brissotins are making before they go to the guillotine."
The noise became more and more threatening, the roar of artillery was heard, and a crowd of people rushed past, near the Temple, shouting,—
"Long live the Sections!" "Long live Henriot!" "Down with the Brissotins!" "Down with the Rolandists!" "Down with Madame Veto!"
"Good!" said Tison, clapping his hands, "I will go and open the door for Madame Veto, that without any disturbance she may enjoy the love the people evince for her."
He approached the wicket of the turret-keep.
"Holloa, Tison!" cried a formidable voice.
"Yes, General," replied he, stopping short.
"No egress to-day," said Santerre; "the prisoners are not to quit their chambers."