But at that moment Lafayette came in and seated himself at the bureau of the electors.
With some difficulty silence was impressed on the crowd in the hall, and then Lafayette addressed them.
'Gentlemen,' said he, 'I cannot blame your anger and your indignation against this man. I myself have never esteemed him; I have always regarded him as a rogue, and I believe in my heart that no punishment can exceed his deserts. You wish him to be sentenced; we have the same wish, he shall be sentenced and punished; but he has accomplices, and it is important that we should know their names. I am going to order him to be conducted to the Abbaye; there he shall be tried and condemned to the infamous death he has so richly deserved.'
'Yes, yes!' was the unanimous response; 'send him away to prison. Bring him out.'
Foulon looked round, opened his snuff-box, poured the rest of its contents into his palm, and applied it to his nose.
'This may be my last snuff,' said he collectedly to those who stood by him. 'I have now none to offer you, I grieve to state.'
A man at that instant forced his way before the bureau, and exclaimed, 'You electors are mocking us. What need is there of judging a man who has been judged these thirty years?'
Instantly a rush was made at Foulon, and he was dragged by a multitude of hands along the hall. In vain he struggled; in vain did Lafayette cry to the people to hearken to reason, in vain did Bailly ring his bell and address the mob. Their enemy was within their grasp, and he was swept away from the tribunal.
'Bah!' said Foulon; 'you will sting your hands with the nettles.'
He was drawn through the door; it was like the vortex of a whirlpool, and in this portal the life was almost crushed out of him by the press. As he was thrust into the open air and sunlight, he looked up at the sky, then cloudless and of the deepest azure.