But at the same time as he fell five persons rushed to his rescue. These were Damas, Romeuf, Brisack and two others, the last having lost the led horse so that his hands were free for his master's service.
Such a conflict arose as the Indians wage around the body of a fallen warrior whom they do not wish scalped.
Contrary to all probability, Choiseul was not hurt, or at least slightly, despite the ugly weapons used against him. A soldier parried with his musket a scythe thrust aimed at him, and Brisack warded off another with a stick he had snatched from a hand in the medley. This stick was cleft like a reed, but the cut was so turned as to wound only the count's horse.
"This way the dragoons!" it came into Adjutant Foucq's head to halloa.
Some soldiers rushed up at the call and cleared a space in their shame at the officer being murdered among them. Romeuf sprang into the open space.
"In the name of the National Assembly, and of General Lafayette, whose deputy I am, lead these gentleman to the town-hall!" he vociferated.
Both names of the Assembly and the general enjoyed full popularity at this period and exerted their usual effect.
"To the town-hall," roared the concourse.
Willing hands made a united effort and Choiseul and his companions were dragged towards the council rooms. It took well over an hour to get there; each minute had its threat and attempt to murder, and every opening the protectors left was used to thrust with a pike or pitchfork or sabre.
However, the municipal building was reached at last, where only one towns officer remained, frightened extremely at the responsibility devolving on him. To relieve him of this charge, he ordered that Choiseul, Damas and Floirac should be put in the cells and watched by the National Guards.