Gavroche came down the platform, and suddenly lost the command of himself that had given him a strange dignity during his oration—he gave way to wild gesticulation and his voice rose to a shrill scream, and at once became as the ravings of a maniac to the judgment of the vast multitude. Loss of temper lost him the ear of the house.
The big man, Eustace Lovegood, remained standing in calm self-reliance—a dignity that appeals always to the essential dignity that lies beneath the wits of all workers.
One of the solemn Three at the table leaned forward, rang a bell, and asked the pleasure of the house; and when the din had ceased he called out to the big man to go up and speak—Gavroche, said he, had had his say and must go down.
Gavroche, recovering his calm, shrugged his shoulders and descending from the platform made his way to a group of workmen at the back of the hall—as Lovegood worked his way up to the tribune....
“Come, comrades,” growled Gavroche to his fellows—“pass the word—this fellow will speak for a full hour—he is like to be on the side of the moralities—and they require some explaining. We can be back here soon after. Slip away and meet by the broken river-lamp. The watchword is Rien-publique—and the countersign Beyond-man.”
As Lovegood made his huge way to the platform, there also left the hall the engrossed figure of Quogge Myre. A great idea had come to him.
CHAPTER LXXX
Which treats of the Masterfolk