Scarce had he got the words out before he felt Billet's heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Who says this?" demanded the farmer.
"The Assembly."
"Then the Assembly lies." The captain drew his sword on him, which he seized by the hilt and the point and wrenched from his grasp.
"Enough, gentlemen," said Bailly; "we will ourselves see into this. Farmer Billet, return the sword, and if you have influence over those you come from, hasten back, to make them disperse."
Billet threw the sabre at the officer's feet.
"Disperse be hanged! the right to petition is recognized by decree and till another revokes it, nobody can prevent citizens expressing their wishes—mayor, or National Guards commander, or others. Come to the place—we will be there before you."
Those around expected Bailly to give orders for the arrest of this bold speaker, but he knew that this was the voice of the people, so loud and lofty. He made a sign and Billet and his friends passed out.
When they arrived on the parade-ground, the crowd was a third larger, say, sixty thousand, all old, women and men. There was a rush for the news.
"The two citizens are not released: the mayor will not answer except that we are all rioters."