"I don't understand that bosh," blurted Hache.
"You learn it in two instants, Hache."
"Wait till I tell you another thing, Admiral," Motte interposed. "There are now twenty thousand ragmen from the provinces encamped on the hills of Montmartre, fit for everything good. I have been through them, and when a St. Marcellese holds his nose, you may fancy. Man never saw such a choice crowd of breechesless. Get them started and go to the women to-morrow."
"To-morrow, then, let it be. The cries are to be 'Bread' and 'The King to Paris,' the fishwomen to lead; the Big Bench sign to be the red wool of 'our Friend Orleans'; then sack the bakers; then the Hôtel de Ville; then the château of Versailles; and death to every black or white cockade."
[CHAPTER XLVII]
THE DEFENCE OF THE BODYGUARD
Word passed about at the stately tea à l'Anglaise of the Princess de Poix that there was danger at the Palace.
"Germain, my knight," whispered Cyrène at the harpsichord, the bright tears in her eyes, "I must not keep you now. Go to the Queen. It is for times of peril that descendants of chivalry were born."
Tenderly kissing her hand and saying adieu, Lecour drove to the Palace and reported for service.
The great Hall of the Guards in the centre of the Palace faces the top of the Marble Staircase. To the left a landing leads to the Hall of the King's Guards and thence, to the apartment of the King; to the right another to the Hall of the Queen's Guards and the chambers of Marie Antoinette.