nd the green cockade was flaunted
from almost every head.

"You are caught between two fires," the incendiary's stuttering voice
raved on. "Between the Germans on the Champ de Mars and the Swiss in the
Bastille. To arms, then! To arms!"

Excitement boiled up and over. From a neighbouring waxworks show came
the bust of Necker, and presently a bust of that comedian the Duke
of Orleans, who had a party and who was as ready as any other of the
budding opportunists of those days to take advantage of the moment for
his own aggrandizement. The bust of Necker was draped with crepe.

Andre-Louis looked on, and grew afraid. Marat's pamphlet had impressed
him. It had expressed what himself he had expressed more than half a
year ago to the mob at Rennes. This crowd, he felt must be restrained.
That hot-headed, irresponsible stutterer would have the town in a blaze
by night unless something were done. The young man, a causeless advocate
of the Palais named Camille Desmoulins, later to become famous, leapt
down from his table still waving his sword, still shouting, "To arms!
Follow me!" Andre-Louis advanced to occupy the improvised rostrum, which
the stutterer had just vacated, to make an effort at counteracting that
inflammatory performance. He thrust through the crowd, and came suddenly
face to face with a tall man beautifully dressed, whose handsome
countenance was sternly set, whose great sombre eyes mouldered as if
with suppressed anger.

Thus face to face, each looking into the eyes of the other, they stood
for a long moment, the jostling crowd streaming past them, unheeded.
Then Andre-Louis laughed.

"That fellow, too, has a very dangerous gift of eloquence, M. le
Marquis," he said. "In fact there are a number of such in France to-day.
They grow from the soil, which you and yours have irrigated with the
blood of the martyrs of liberty. Soon it may be your blood instead. The
soil is parched, and thirsty for it."

"Gallows-bird!" he was answered. "The police will do your affair for
you. I shall tell the Lieutenant-General that you are to be found in
Paris."

"My God, man!" cried Andre-Louis, "will you never get sense? Will you
talk like that of Lieutenant-Generals when Paris itself is likely to
tumble about your ears or take fire under your feet? Raise your voice,
M. le Marquis. Denounce me here, to these. You will make a hero of me in
such an hour as this. Or shall I denounce you? I think I will. I think
it is high tim