Amid the blast of trumpets, the noise of violins and clarionets, the public had heard the light noise of the opening doors, had noticed the entrance of the officers, and this sound had made the Parisians forget even their much-loved music.
There now appeared in the open box-door a woman's form. The queen, followed by Mademoiselle de Bugois, advanced slowly through the great box to the very front. All eyes were directed to her, all looks searched her pale, noble face.
Marie Antoinette felt this, and a smile flitted over her face like the evening glow of a summer's day. With this smile and a deep blush Marie Antoinette bowed and saluted the public.
A loud, unbounded cry of applause resounded through the vast room. In the parquette and in the boxes hundreds of spectators arose and hailed the queen with a loud, pealing "Vive la reine!" and clapped their hands like pleased children, and looked up to the queen with joyful, beaming countenances.
"Oh, my faith has not deceived!" whispered Marie Antoinette into the ear of her companion. "The good Parisians love me still; they, like me, remember past times, and the old loyalty is awaking in them."
And again she bowed her thanks right and left, and again the house broke out into loud applause. A single, angry glance of Marat's little eyes, peering out from beneath the bushy brows, met the queen.
"Only wait," said Marat, rising from his seat and directing his glances at the parterre. There stood the giant Santerre, and not far from him Simon the cobbler, in the midst of a crowd of savage- looking, defiant fellows, who all looked at their leaders, while they, Santerre and Simon, directed their eyes up to the box of Marat.
The glance of the chief met that of his two friends. A scornful, savage expression swept over Marat's ash-colored, dirty face, and he nodded lightly to his allies. Santerre and Simon returned the nod, and they, turning to their companions, gave the signal by raising the right hand.
Suddenly the applause was overborne by loud whistling and shouting, derisive laughter, and wild curses.
"The civil war has begun!" cried Marat, rubbing his hands together with delight.