"To tell you the truth, sir, you do me assistance in ridding me of this combustible," he said; "So I will hand you over the keys as you desire. Only do not forget that I am your first magistrate, and that if you are so unfortunate as to handle me roughly before others as you have done, catching me privately in an unguarded time, you will be hanged within the hour by the city guards. Do you persist in removing this powder?"
"I do, and will divide it out myself right away."
"Let us have this clear, then: I have business here for an other quarter of an hour and if it makes no difference to you, I should prefer the distribution to go on during my absence. It has been foretold me that I should die of a violent death, but I own to having a deep repugnance to being blown into the air."
"You shall have the time but do me a favor in return. Come to this window, that I may make you popular."
"Much obliged: in what manner?"
"You shall see. Friends," he called out, as the two stood at the window, "you want to take the Bastile?"
"Ay, ay," replied the thousands of voices.
"But we want powder? now, here is the provost who gives us all there is in the City Hall cellars. Thank him, boys!"
"Long live the provost—Flesselles forever!" roared the mob.
"Now, my lord; there is no need for me to collar you before the crowd or when alone," said Billet: "for if you do not give the powder, the people—or the nation as you call it—will tear you to pieces."