"Most certainly," said the old priest, coming forward with dignity; "this lady is Madame Robert Tournay."
"Madame!" cried Gardin, repeating the word in a rage. "There are no ladies in France now, and all priests are liars. This is a trick, and you, citizen colonel, shall answer for it. Out of my way!" He grasped Tournay by the lapel of his coat, and twisting his fingers into the cloth endeavored to force the colonel to one side. There was a sharp struggle, then Tournay threw him off with such violence as to send him staggering across the room. His head struck the sharp edge of a mahogany cabinet as he reeled backward, and he rolled senseless to the floor.
With a shout of rage at the assault upon their leader the mob rushed forward to close about Tournay. But he was too quick for them; the muzzles of a pair of pistols met them as they advanced, one covering Forgons, who was in front, the other leveled at the men behind him.
The mob cowered and fell back a little. Clubs, hammers, and knives were their only weapons, which they still brandished threateningly. If Tournay had shown the least sign of flinching he would have fallen the next moment, beaten and crushed to death. He advanced a step forward. Before the threatening muzzles of the steadily-aimed pistols, the men recoiled still further, and were quiet for a moment. Tournay seized the opportunity to speak.
"This fellow," he cried in a loud voice, pointing to Gardin, "has dared to lay hands upon an officer of the Republican army. In doing so he has insulted the nation and deserves death. Is there any man here who would repeat this insult?"
The mob, taken by surprise, looked at their fallen leader and then at the two shining pistol-barrels that confronted them, and remained irresolute. Tournay thought he heard Edmé catch her breath quickly when the answer from the mob drowned everything.
"No, no! There are none here who would insult the nation!"
"Citizens, I am of the people, like yourselves. I am also a soldier of France. I have fought its battles, I wear its colors. See!" he went on, taking off his hat and pointing to the tricolor cockade—"here is the tricolor. If you do not respect that, you insult the Republic. Is there any one here who would dare to insult the Republic?"
"No, no!" came in quick response. "Long live the Republic!"
"But all who wear the tricolor are not our friends," muttered Forgons uneasily.