"For my part," he said in conclusion, "I think this disturbance amounts to very little; the Baron de Besneval has but to give the order to his troops, and the valiant mob will disperse like chaff. I have seen such fellows run before this. It is amusing to see what a steel bayonet will do toward accelerating the pace of the canaille."
"They say that the French Guards are not loyal," remarked the chevalier.
"The French Guards be hanged!" shouted the Marquis de Lacheville hotly. "I would not trust them further than the canaille itself; they are a white-livered lot in spite of their gaudy uniforms. Thank heaven, we have other troops who are good and loyal, and who will put down these disorders in a trice."
"We shall look to you, then, marquis," said the cavalier, "to restore peace and quiet for us at once."
"I would not soil my hands with such dirt," replied de Lacheville haughtily, and scowling at what he thought was a disposition on the part of the chevalier to ridicule him.
"Is there really danger?" inquired the Countess d'Arlincourt of her husband.
"The situation is grave, but I hardly think there is great cause for alarm," he answered. "The king has too many loyal subjects to permit anarchy and riot to exist for any length of time."
"Let us go out upon the balcony," interrupted St. Hilaire; "the show is about to pass under our windows." He threw open the windows and ushered his friends out upon the balcony with a gesture as if he were bidding them welcome to his box at the opera.
Down the street, with a roar that drowned all other sounds, came the surging mass like a torrent that had burst its bounds. In the front ranks, carried on the shoulders of a dozen, were two men dressed in the uniform of the French Guards. They were greeted on all sides with acclamations.
"See how the Guards fraternize with the mob," said de Lacheville. "Down with the French Guards! Down with the rabble!" he cried in his excitement, shaking his fist over the railing.