For a few minutes every attention was directed toward her; and it was only as she showed signs of recovery, some one asked—
‘What has become of De Noe and his friend?’
They were gone.
CHAPTER VI. ‘LA GRUE’
When Gerald gained the street, it was to find it crammed with a dense mob, whose wild cries and screams filled the air. No sooner was he perceived by some of the multitude than a hundred yells saluted him, with shouts of ‘Down with the aristocrat; down with the tyrant, who insults the friend of the people.’ It was a mob who, in fervour of enthusiasm for Mirabeau’s memory, had closed each of the theatres in succession, dispersed all meetings of public festivity, and even invaded the precincts of private houses, to dictate a more becoming observance toward the illustrious dead. Few men could bear such prescription less patiently than Fitzgerald. The very thought of being ruled and directed by the ‘canaille’ was insupportably offensive, and he drove back those who rudely pressed upon him, and answered with contempt their words of insult and outrage.
‘Who is it that insults the majesty of the people?’ cried one; ‘let us hear his name.’
‘It is Louvet’—‘It is Plessard’—‘It is Lestocq’—‘It is that miserable Custine ‘—shouted several together.
‘You are all wrong. I am a stranger, whose name not one of you has ever heard——’
‘A spy! an emissary of Pitt and Cobourg!’