"Drive these drunken louts away!" he commanded; "no one is allowed to loiter here."
Loud protest on the part of the hilarious crowd followed, then a slight scuffle with the bayonets of the Town Guard. Finally the spokesman, somewhat sobered, once more appealed to Bibot.
"Citizen Bibot! you must be blind not to know me and my mates! And let me tell you that you are doing yourself a deal of harm by interfering with the citizens of the Republic in the proper discharge of their duties, and by disregarding their rights of egress through this gate, a right confirmed by passports signed by two members of the Committee of Public Safety."
He had spoken now fairly clearly and very pompously. Bibot, somewhat impressed and remembering Marat's admonitions, said very civilly:
"Tell me your business then, citizen, and show me your passports. If everything is in order you may go your way."
"But you know me, citizen Bibot?" queried the other.
"Yes, I know you—unofficially, citizen Durand."
"You know that I and the citizens here are the carriers for citizen
Legrand, the market gardener of Barency?"
"Yes, I know that," said Bibot guardedly, "unofficially."
"Then, unofficially, let me tell you, citizen, that unless we get to Barency this evening, Paris will have to do without cabbages and potatoes to-morrow. So now you know that you are acting at your own risk and peril, citizen, by detaining us."