"Monsters, cannibals, assassins!" shouted Charny.
"Hold your tongue, count," said Billet, "or I cannot answer for you."
"What matters? I am tired of life. What can befall me worse than my poor brother?"
"Your brother was guilty and you are not," replied Billet.
Charny started to jump down from the box but the other Lifeguard restrained him, while twenty bayonets bristled to receive him.
"Friends," said the farmer in his strong and imposing voice, as he pointed to Charny, "whatever this man says or does, never heed—I forbid a hair of his head being touched. I am answerable for him to his wife."
"To his wife," muttered the Queen, shuddering as though one of the steel points menacing her beloved had pricked her heart, "why does he say to his wife?"
Billet could not have himself told. He had invoked the name of the count's wife, knowing how powerful such a charm is over a mob composed mainly of men with wives.
They were late reaching Chalons, where the King, in alighting at the house prepared for the family, heard a bullet whizz by his ear.