There was a lull, and a hasty turning of heads.
"In the name of the Nation I summon all citoyens to depart! The Nation takes possession."
Then followed a ludicrous sidling, shifting rush for the door as each, fearing to be marked for arrest, strove to depart unnoticed. All at once the long arm of Dossonville shot out and barred the way.
Boudgoust fell back. Again, as Cramoisin sought to escape in the shelter of a fat woman, the prohibition rang out:
Jambony next presenting himself, the arm of Dossonville again denied the way. In the room there remained at last but the wounded man, unconscious on the bed, a bundle of humanity crouching at the head, a doctor, and the three Tapedures huddling together against the wall.
From the doorway, the solemn face of Le Corbeau peered in, flanked by the mocking smirk of Sans-Chagrin. Dossonville, master of the quiet room, strode up and down in indecision, with glowing eyes fastened on the frightened three, who dared not meet the menace of his glance.
After five minutes of this torture, during which all awaited the order of arrest, Dossonville suddenly halted, extended his hand, and cried:
Sans-Chagrin, fearing to misinterpret the command, checked the foremost, asking:
Confident that the menace would rid the city of the three, Dossonville turned anxiously to the doctor.
Desiring to prevent all communication with the outer world, Dossonville said, with a quick resolve:
"Then I shall be forced to establish a guard. The Citoyen Javogues is under arrest."
Turning to Sans-Chagrin, he gave orders to allow no one to enter--a command which had the desired effect of hastening the departure of the doctor. Approaching the bed, Dossonville became aware of the figure at its side, drooped over an arm of the invalid that hung down.
"Mordieu! what's this?" he cried; and placing his hand on the shoulder, he shook it.
The bundle resolved itself into the wild figure of a girl.
At the next moment the girl, recognizing him, flew at him with a cry of hatred. Avoiding the blind rush, Dossonville caught her by the arm, crying:
"Eh, Le Corbeau, take her! Sans-Chagrin, go to his aid!"
Feeling herself overpowered, the girl became suddenly quiet, calculating, and dissimulating; but from her eyes murder looked out.