Isabel had retreated as far as she could from their hands, but she showed no signs of quailing; her eyes were bright, her colour high, and the hand was firm which she gave to Louis as she stepped out. There was a murmur of admiration, and more than one bow and muttered apology about necessity and the nation, as the crowd beheld the maiden in all her innate nobleness and dignity.
'Which way?' asked Louis, finding that the crowd were willing to let them choose their course.
'Home,' said Isabel, decidedly, 'there is no use in turning back.'
They pressed on past the barricade for which their carriage had been required, a structure of confiscated vehicles, the interstices filled up with earth and paving stones, which men and boys were busily tearing up from the trottoirs, and others carrying to their destination. They were a gaunt, hungry, wolfish-looking race, and the first words that Isabel spoke were words of pity, when they had passed them, and continued their course along the Boulevards, here in desolate tranquillity. 'Poor creatures, they look as if misery made them furious! and yet how civil they were.'
'Were you much alarmed? I wish I could have come to you sooner.'
'Thank you; I knew that you were at hand, and their address was not very terrific, poor things. I do not imagine there was any real danger.'
'I wish I knew whether we are within or without the barricades. If within, we shall have to cross another. We are actually becoming historical!'
He broke off, amazed by Isabel's change of countenance, as she put her hand to the arm he held, hastily withdrew it, and exclaimed, 'My bracelet! oh, my bracelet!' turning round to seek it on the pavement.
'The ivory clasp?' asked Louis, perceiving its absence.
'Oh yes!' she cried, in much distress, 'I would not have lost it for all the world.'