"Ah, frightful!" said Rodolph, throwing himself back in his carriage.
"What is it, my dear father?" asked Fleur-de-Marie with uneasiness.
"Only listen,—these threatening cries approach us! What can it be?"
"Desire them to reach Charenton by another road," said Rodolph.
"Monseigneur, it is too late, the crowd has stopped the horses."
The footman could say no more. The mob, excited by the savage encouragement of the Skeleton and Nicholas, suddenly surrounded the carriage, and, in spite of the threats of the postilions, stopped the horses, and Rodolph saw on all sides threatening, furious countenances, and above them all the Skeleton, who came to the door of the carriage.
"Take care, my dear father!" exclaimed Fleur-de-Marie, throwing her arms around Rodolph's neck.
"Oh, you are the 'my lord,' are you?" said the Skeleton, thrusting his hideous head into the carriage.
Had it not been for his daughter's presence, Rodolph would have given way to the natural impetuosity of his character at this insolence; but he controlled himself, and coolly replied: