"That is a dangerous instrument to make use of Lignières is a fanatic,—whether in good or bad faith I know not,—who urges everything to extremes, and is always more repellent than attractive. But no matter! We must know at any price what we have to rely upon, must we not?"
"Yes," said Gabriel, "so that all these closed hearts may open to emit the truth."
"Lignières and his doctrines hot from Geneva will wake them up, never fear," rejoined La Renaudie.
The orator plunged at once in médias res.
"The law has brought about its own condemnation," said he. "What resource remains? An appeal to force, and nothing else. You ask what we ought to do! If I do not reply to that question, here is something which will reply for me."
He held up a silver medal.
"This medal," he continued, "is far more eloquent than any words of mine. For the benefit of those who are too far away to see it I will say what it represents. It bears the image of a flaming sword cutting off the blossom of a lily, whose stalk bends and falls near by; the sceptre and the crown are rolling in the dust."
Then he added, as if he feared that he might be misunderstood,—
"Medals ordinarily serve to commemorate accomplished facts; may this one serve as prophetic of something yet to occur! I will say no more."
Indeed, he had said enough. He came down from the pulpit amid the plaudits of an inconsiderable portion of the assembly, and the in mutterings of a much larger number.