"The Eagle for which our brave comrades died," said Drehon.
"The Eagle which has been carried in triumph in every capital in Europe!" added Suraif.
The whole room was filled with cries again.
"Never! Never!"
The whole mass surged forward, including Marteau.
"Was it to give it up to any servant of King Louis that I brought it back?" the latter shouted threateningly.
"Gentlemen," said the young aide so soon as he could make himself heard in the tumult, "the choice is yours, not mine. I am a soldier of the King, aide-de-camp to the Governor of this place, an officer under the Marquis d'Aumenier. You have your ideas of duty, I have mine. I have already stretched my conscience to the limit in offering to be silent about this under any conditions. I am doing wrong in concealing it but I do not wish to doom so many brave men to disgrace, to death. You, monsieur"—he pointed toward Marteau—"refused a commission in this regiment. You wear the insignia of Bonaparte. You have no place here. Withdraw. Your arrival has disturbed the orderly course of events. These gentlemen were doing their duty contentedly——"
"No, by God, never," roared out a veteran. "Contentedly! We will never be content until——"
"Until what, monsieur?"
"Until the violets bloom again," came the answer, accompanied by a burst of sardonic laughter.