e 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.

'You are all wrong. I am a stranger, whose name not one of you has ever
heard----'

'A spy! an emissary of Pitt and Cobourg!'

'I am a foreigner, with whose sentiments you have no concern. I do not
obtrude my opinions upon you.'

'What do we care for that?' shouted a deep voice. 'You have dared to
offend the most sacred sentiments of a nation, and to riot in a festive
orgie while we weep over the deathbed of a patriot.'

'_A la Grue! a la Grue!_' screamed the wild mass in a yell of passion.

Now the Grue was an immense crane--used in some repairs of the Pont
Neuf--which still held its place at the approach to the bridge. It was
here that a sort of public tribunal held its nightly sittings by the
light of a gigantic lantern, suspended from the crane; and which, report
alleged, had more than once given way to a very different pendant. It
is certain that two men, taken in the act of robbery, had been hanged by
the sentence of this self-constituted tribunal, which, in open defiance
of the authorities, continued to assemble there. The cry, '_A la Grue!
a la Grue!_' had, therefore, a dreadful significance; and there was
a terrible import in the savage roar of the mob as they ratified the
proposal.

'We will try him fairly. He shall be judged deliberately, and be allowed
to speak in his own defence,' said several, who believed that their
words were those of moderation and equity:

Powerless against the overwhelming mass, and too indignant to proffer
one single word of palliation, Gerald was hurried along towards the
quay.

There was something singularly solemn in the measured tread of that vast
multitude, as, in a mockery of justice, they marched along. At first not
a word was spoken; but suddenly a deep voice in the front rank began one
of the popular chants of the day, the whole dense mass joining in the
refrain. Nothing could be ruder than the verses, save the accents that
intoned them; but there was in the very roar and resonance a depth that
imparted a sense of force and power.

We offer a rough version of the unpolished chant--

'The Cour Royale has a princely hall,
And many come there to