However, M. La Rouquette was now scouring the right wing of the palace, with its interminable corridors and offices and committee-rooms. He returned by way of the Hall of the Four Columns, where young deputies dream of fame while gazing at the statues of Brutus, Solon, and Lycurgus. Then he cut across the large waiting hall, and hastily skirted a semi-circular gallery, like a sort of low crypt, as dim and as bare as a church, and lighted, day and night, by gas. Finally, quite breathless, and dragging after him the little troop of deputies whom he had gathered together, La Rouquette threw open one of the mahogany doors decorated with gold stars. M. de Combelot, his hands quite white, and his beard neatly combed, followed him, M. de la Villardière, having made his escape from his constituents, came on close behind, and they all rushed together into the assembly hall where the other deputies stood erect in their places, furiously shouting and waving their arms at a member in the tribune who seemed altogether unmoved by their cries.[22]
'Order! order! order!' they shouted.
'Order! order!' cried M. La Rouquette and his friends, still louder than the others, though they knew absolutely nothing of what was going on.
The uproar was frightful. Some deputies were ragefully stamping their feet, while others kept up a noise like that of a fusillade by violently rattling the lids of their desks. Screaming and yelping voices rose, fifelike, amidst others which were gruff and full, and rumbled on like an organ accompaniment. Every now and then there was a slight lull in the din, and then jeers could be distinguished in the subsiding clamour, and some words even were plainly heard.
'It is detestable! intolerable!'
'He must withdraw it!'
'Yes, yes! withdraw it!'
However, the cry that was stubbornly repeated, which ever and ever went on to the rhythmical stamping of heels was that of 'Order! order! order!' coming hoarsely, huskily, from a hundred dry throats.
The deputy in the tribune had crossed his arms, and was gazing calmly at his furious colleagues with barking faces and brandished arms. Twice, when the tumult seemed to subside, he attempted to continue his speech, but each time that he opened his mouth there came a renewal of the tempest, a fresh outburst of frantic rage. The din in the Chamber was fairly ear-splitting.