patriots."

But other voices were joining in:

"Hanriot's a drunken sot and a fool!"

"Hanriot's a good Jacobin! Vive Hanriot!"

Sides were taken, and the fray began. Blows were exchanged, hats
battered in, tables overturned, and glasses shivered; the lights went
out and the women began to scream. Two or three patriots fell upon
Julie, who seized hold of a settle in self-defence; she was brought to
the ground, where she scratched and bit her assailants. Her coat flew
open and her neckerchief was torn, revealing her panting bosom. A patrol
came running up at the noise, and the girl aristocrat escaped between
the gendarmes' legs.

Every day the carts were full of victims for the guillotine.

"But I cannot, I cannot let my lover die!" Julie would tell her mother.

She resolved to beg his life, to take what steps were possible, to go to
the Committees and Public Departments, to canvas Representatives,
Magistrates, to visit anyone who could be of help. She had no woman's
dress to wear. Her mother borrowed a striped gown, a kerchief, a lace
coif from the _citoyenne_ Blaise, and Julie, attired as a woman and a
patriot, set out for the abode of one of the judges, Renaudin, a damp,
dismal house in the Rue Mazarine.

With trembling steps she climbed the wooden, tiled stairs and was
received by the judge in his squalid cabinet, furnished with a deal
table and two straw-bottomed chairs. The wall-paper hung in strips.
Renaudin, with black hair plastered on his forehead, a lowering eye,
tucked-in lips, and a protuberant chin, signed to her to speak and
listened in silence.

She told him she was the sister of the _citoyen_ Chassagne, a prisoner
at the Luxembourg, explained as speciously as she could the
circumstances under which he had been arrested, represented him as an
innocent man, the victim of mischance, pleaded more and more urgently;
but he remained callous and unsympathetic.

She fell at his feet in supplication and burst into tears.

No sooner did he see her tears than his face changed; his dark
blood-shot eyes lit up, and his heavy blue jowl worked as if pumping up
the saliva in his dry throat.

"_Citoyenne_, we will do what is necessary. You need have no
anxiety,"--and opening a door, he pushed the petitioner into a little
sitting-room, with rose-pink hangings, painted panels, Dresden china
figures, a time-piece and gilt candelabra; for furniture it contained
settees, and a sofa covered in tapestry and adorn