"My young friend," said the gentleman, "I should like to observe that you are rather too insufficiently clad to stand guard at my door. If you feel constrained to do it, at least sling your cartridge-box round and stand with your back to the wall."
"Am I to let him go?" asked Pitou again, looking at the speaker as if he did not relish the jest.
"Yes," Billet said.
"Perhaps you are wrong to let him go," said Marat as Pitou stepped aside; "he was a good hostage to hold: but in any case, be he where he may, I can lay hands on him, never fear."
"Labrie," said Flesselles to his valet, as he got into his carriage, "they are going to serve out the powder. If the City Hall goes up in an explosion I should like to be well out of the reach of splinters. Tell the coachman to whip up smartly."
The vehicle rolled under the covered way and came out on the square before some thousands of spectators. The Provost feared that his departure might be misinterpreted and taken for a flight. So he leaned out of the window and said loudly:
"Drive to the National Assembly!"
This earned him a cheer. Up on the balcony, outside, Marat and Billet heard the order.
"My head to his, that he is not going to the Assembly but to the King," commented the surgeon.
"Had he not better be stopped?" said the farmer.