r head at
her sister. "You are a silly woman to say such things so loudly when
the strikers are marching beneath."

But the remonstrance had no effect, and the sight of all the other
windows in the street full of spectators encouraged and inspired
Mademoiselle Therese, and made her long for fame and glory.

"It is ridiculous of the mayor to allow such things," she said loudly,
with an evident desire to be heard. "The men should be sharply dealt
with, and sent back to their work."

The result of her words was unexpected; for several of the crowd,
annoyed at the little serious attention they had hitherto received, and
worked up to considerable excitement, by the shouting and drumming
began to pick up stones and fling them at the house. At first they
were merely thrown _against_ the house, then, the spirit of mischief
increasing, they were sent with better aim, and one crashed through the
window above Mademoiselle Therese's head.

"We shall all be killed!" shrieked her sister, "and just because of
your meddling ways, Therese." But she called to deaf ears, for now
Mademoiselle Therese, enjoying notoriety, kept popping her head in and
out of the window, dodging the stones and shouting out threats and
menaces, which were returned by the crowd, till at last Mademoiselle
Loire cried out pitifully that some one must go and fetch the widower.

"One man even might be a protection," she moaned, though how, and
whether against her sister or the strikers, did not seem very clear to
Barbara. But as that seemed to be Mademoiselle Loire's one idea, and
as Marie and the maid-servants were all crying in a corner, she thought
she had better fetch him. Running downstairs and across the garden,
she climbed over the wall by the wood pile, and boldly knocked at the
widower's back door, thereby frightening him not a little. He came
very cautiously along the passage, and inquired in rather shaky tones
who was there.

As soon as Barbara had assured him that this was not an attack in the
rear, he flung open the door, and welcomed her most cordially. Barbara
wondered where he had been not to have heard Mademoiselle Loire's
wailings, and suspected that perhaps he _had_ heard them and had
retired hastily in consequence! He certainly looked a little depressed
when he received the message, which was to the effect that he should
come and address the crowd from the Loires' window, and bid it to
proceed on its way.

"I think," he said pe