Name after name of those around did Madame Roland whisper, but all without avail. At last, as Langrés presented himself, Marietta turned with a sort of aversion from him and said--
'I am in search of a prince, and you bring me a butcher.'
This insulting speech was not heard without a smile by some who knew this man's origin, and detested the coarse ruffianism of his address.
'_Parbleau_, Madame! if you want princes you must go and seek them at the Français,' said Langrés angrily, as he dropped back into the crowd.
Meanwhile, impelled by a strong desire to test the reality of her vision, Gerald made his way through the throng, and dropping on one knee, took her hand in his own.
A start and a faint exclamation--half surprise, half joy--broke from her as she felt his touch. She passed her hand over his face, and through his long hair, and then bending down kissed him on the forehead. She whispered a few words rapidly in his ear, and sank back exhausted.
'She has fainted! Bring water quickly,' cried Lanthenas.
For a few minutes every attention was directed toward her; and it was only as she showed signs of recovery, some one asked--
'What has become of De Noe and his friend?'
When Gerald gained the street, it was to find it crammed with a dense mob, whose wild cries and screams filled the air. No sooner was he perceived by some of the multitude than a hundred yells saluted him, with shouts of 'Down with the aristocrat; down with the tyrant, who insults the friend of the people.' It was a mob who, in fervour of enthusiasm for Mirabeau's memory, had closed each of the theatres in succession, dispersed all meetings of public festivity, and even invaded the precincts of private houses, to dictate a more becoming observance toward the illustrious dead. Few men could bear such prescription less patiently than Fitzgerald. The very thought of being ruled and directed by the 'canaille' was insupportably offensive, and he drove back those who rudely pressed upon him, and answered with contempt their words of insult and outrage.
'Who is it that insults the majesty of the people?' cried one; 'let us hear his name.'
'It is Louvet'--'It is Plessard'--'It is Lestocq'--'It is that miserable Custine '--shouted several together.