Froment raised his hand for silence. "No, Monsieur," he said quickly. "On the contrary, we will have a tricolour of our own. Vive le Roi! Vive la Foi! Vive la Loi! Vivent les Trois!"
The conceit took. A hundred voices shouted, "Vivent les Trois!" in chorus. The words were taken up on lower roofs and at windows, and in the streets below; until they passed noisily away, after the manner of file-firing, into the distance.
Froment raised his hat gallantly. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said. "In the King's name, in his Majesty's name, I thank you. Before we have done, the Atlantic shall hear that cry, and La Manche re-echo it! And the Rhone shall release what the Seine has taken! To Nîmes and to you, all France looks this day. For freedom! For freedom to live--shall knaves and scriveners strangle her? For freedom to pray--they rob God, and defile His temples! For freedom to walk abroad--the King of France is a captive. Need I say more?"
"No! No!" they cried, waving hats and swords. "No! No!"
"Then I will not," he answered hardily. "I will use no more words! But I will show that here at least, at Nîmes at least, God and the King are honoured, and their servants are free! Give me your escort, gentlemen, and we will walk through the town and visit the King's posts, and see if any here dare cry, 'A bas le Roi!'"
They answered with a roar of assent and menace that shook the very tower; and instantly trooping to the ladder, began to descend by it to the roof of the house, and so to the staircase. Sitting on the battlements of the tower, I watched them pass in a long stream across the leads below, their hilts and buckles glittering in the sunshine, their ribbons waving in the breeze, their voices sharp and high. I thought them, as I watched, a gallant company; the greater part were young, and all had a fine air; not without sympathy I saw them vanish one by one in the head of the staircase, by which I had ascended. One half had disappeared when I felt a touch on my arm, and found Froment, the last to leave, standing by my side.
"You will stay here, Monsieur," he said, in an undertone of meaning, his eyes lowered to meet mine; "if the worst happens, I need not charge you to look to Mademoiselle."
"Worst or best, I will look to her," I answered.
"Thanks," he said, his lip curling, and an ugly light for an instant flashing in his eyes. "But in the latter case I will look to her myself. Don't forget, that if I win, we have still to talk, Monsieur!"
"Yet, God grant you may win!" I exclaimed involuntarily.