“You will please not to talk of insolence to us. If you do not demean yourself quietly——”
“Silence, fellow!” answered I fiercely. “Lead the way!”
By this time the children, astonished at a scene so alarming and unintelligible to them, began to express their terror in various ways. Julia, who was ready to faint, occupied the attention of her mother. The little Marguerite clung round my knees, and expressed her emotions by shrieks and cries. To see her father about to be torn from her by four strangers, the peculiarity of whose garb of office aggravated the rudeness of their countenances and the peremptoriness of their behaviour, was a spectacle which the affectionateness of her nature was unable to endure.
“I will go with you presently,” said I to the officers. “See, how you have terrified the children!”
“Nay, sir, if you will behave civilly, and make it worth our while, we do not desire to hurry you.”
I was stung with the brutal assurance with which they thus set the liberty of a few moments at a price to me. But I checked my impatience. I felt that it would be both foolish and degrading to enter into contention with such wretches. I turned from them proudly, and took my child in my arms.
“I will not be long gone, my love!” said I. “These people have made a mistake, and I shall soon be able to rectify it.”
“I fancy not,” muttered one of them surlily.
“They shall not take you away, papa; that they shall not! I will hold you, and will not let you go!”