"Governor: We, Provost of Traders of Paris, send you M. Billet to confer on the welfare of the city.
14th July, 1789.
Flesselles.
"All right, let me have it," said Billet.
"Oh, you think it good enough?" sneered Marat; "Wait for the provost to add a postscript, which will improve it."
He went over to the provost, who was leaning one closed hand on the table and regarding with a scornful air not only the two men who were the jaws of a vice which enclosed him, but a third, whose breeches were torn, standing before the doorway, with a musketoon in his fist.
This was Pitou who followed his friend and was ready to execute any order of his.
"I suggest the following postscript to improve the paper," said Marat.
Marat laid the paper again on the table and pointing with his crooked finger to the place for the addendum, he dictated: