He saw a multitude trooping down the gardens from the gates and walls,
over which in the distance he could descry them swarming, and forming a
sort of semicircle around the entrance door. The vanguard were led by a
drum and a violin. The expressions on the faces of the men were wild and
haggard, most wore greasy bonnets of wool, some huge wooden shoes, some
hobnailed ones, and over their shoulders or in their hands protruded
their weapons--pitchforks, scythes, flails, knives, clubs, and rusty
guns. All must have been several thousand, collected from every hamlet
in his territory. They seemed like a legion of some spectre army of
Hunger and Ignorance. In the commander Germain recognised his
discharged butler.

The Canoness he descried escaping, unseen by them, with the aid of a
gardener, across the pond into the park. He withdrew from the window and
fled quickly towards the chamber of Cyrene. She likewise was seeking
him, and in a passage they rushed into each other's arms.

"Where is the Canoness?" she exclaimed.

"She is gone, she was warned," he said. "You know there is danger,
love?"

"I see it," she answered.

"Come," he urged her, "the office is strong, we may have to defend
ourselves."

Thither, therefore, they returned and anxiously awaited Dominique, each
fearful of the safety of the other. For the moment the protection of the
house had to be trusted wholly to the Auvergnat.

Dominique was absent about fifteen minutes, during which Germain could
hear the servants barring the doors, and voices surrounding the house in
all directions. The valet returned and related his observations. After
making the doors fast and collecting the female servants in the hall, he
had carefully looked out of the wicket of the grand entrance, and seeing
no one approaching, opened, and going out to the head of the steps,
inquired of the mob their errand. He was met by a hurly-burly of cries.

"Long live Liberty! Long live the King! Death to the aristocrats! Long
live the nation!"

"What do you seek of Monsieur le Chevalier?"

"His head!" cried Cliquet.

"Bread, bread!" shouted the sabot-maker.

But two others came forward and more rightly interpreted the chief and
quaint demand of the ignorant peasants. They demanded all his
parchments and title-deeds to burn; "for," said they sententiously, "we
shall then be freed of rents and dues, which are now abolished by the
King." Some of the bolder rioters had even started a fir