"Who speak thus?" cried the provost, turning to the ill-favored man who interrupted.
"I, Marat."
"The surgeon Marat, the philosopher," said Billet.
"Yes, the same Marat," continued Flesselles; "who as a medical man ought to attend to the insane; he will have his hands full in France at this moment."
"Provost Flesselles," replied the sombre surgeon, "this honest citizen asks a passport to Governor Launay. I would point out that you are not only keeping him waiting but three thousand other honest citizens."
"Very well; he shall have it."
Going to a table, he passed his hand over his forehead before writing with the other a few rapid lines in ink.
"Here is your introduction," he said, presenting it to the countryman.
"I do not know how to read," said Billet.
"Give it to me and I will do so," said Marat; and he saw that the pass was couched in these words: