At the same time a shriek of fright sounded from within the coach. Besides the men who barred the way, two or three had slipped up to the conveyance and shoved their gun barrels under the windows. One was pointed at the Queen's breast: Isidore saw this; he darted up, and pushed the gun aside by grasping the barrel.
"Fire, fire," roared several voices.
One of the men obeyed but luckily his gun missed fire.
Isidore raised his arm to stab him but the Queen stopped his hand.
"Oh, in heaven's name, let me charge this rabble," said Isidore, enraged.
"No, sheathe your sword, do you hear me?"
He did not obey her by half; instead of sheathing his sword he let it fall on the ground.
"If I only get hold of Drouet," he snarled.
"I leave you him to wreck your vengeance on," said the Queen, in an undertone and squeezing his arm with strange force.
"In short, gentlemen," said the King, "what do you want?"