"Break open the gunsmith's," shouted a voice in the turbulence.
"Let us go to the Invalid Soldiers Hospital," added some old veterans. "General Sombreuil has twenty thousand muskets there."
"And to the City Hall!" exclaimed others: "Flesselles, Provost of the Traders, has the keys for the town guards' armory and he must give them up."
"To the Hall!" bellowed a fraction of the assemblage.
All flowed away in one or the other of the three directions called out.
During this time the dragoons had rallied around Baron Bezenval and Prince Lambesq on Louis XV. Square.
Billet and Pitou were unaware of this as they followed none of the parties and were left pretty well alone on Palais Royale Square.
"Well, where are we off to, dear Master Billet?" inquired Ange Pitou.
"I should like to follow the crowd," replied the other: "not to the gunmakers', as I have a first-rate gun, but to the City Hall or the military Asylum. Still, as we came to town not to fight, but to learn Doctor Gilbert's address. I think we ought to go to Louis-the-Great's College, where his son is. When I shall have got through with the doctor, we can jump back into the chafing-dish."
His eyes flashed lightnings.