"Miserable canaille!" muttered their chief; "they are base enough to hurl their stones at ME, if that beardless manikin up there should require it of them, as a peace-offering to his immaculate mother!"
"I told your excellency that you could not trust them," replied the companion on whose arm he was leaning. "It is a dangerous thing to be identified with any action of theirs."
"You were right, Francois. Give me your arm, and let us try to reach the gates, so as to be the first to escape from this accursed man- trap."
"You have cheered the countess but once," cried Eugene to the multitude. "Do you wish me to renew our strife?"
"Long live the noble Countess de Soissons!" was the prompt reply. And, without waiting for a third suggestion, they shouted again and again, "Long live the Countess de Soissons!"
Olympia's flashing eyes rested proudly on her son. "I thank you, Eugene: you have avenged me effectually. All Paris will be filled with lampoons on the ridiculous repulse of the valiant Barbesieur and his followers."
Eugene made no reply. His eyes were fixed upon the personage whom they supposed to be the son of Louvois, and the prince knew perfectly well wherefore he seemed in such nervous haste to reach the gates.
"He hopes to escape without recognition," muttered Eugene, "but I must have a word with him before we part."
"Open the gates!" clamored the populace anew; then suddenly there was a cry of alarm which was echoed from man to man, from group to group, until it shaped itself into these words: "The guards! The guards!"