a
thousand people had answered him with one voice, asking who he was that
he should give such an order. He announced his rank and authority, to
which the answer was, "We only know the prefect by his clothes." Now it
had unfortunately happened that M. de Chamans having sent his trunks by
diligence they had not yet arrived, and being dressed in a green coat;
nankeen trousers, and a pique vest, it could hardly be expected that in
such a suit he should overawe the people under the circumstances; so,
when he got up on a bench to harangue the populace, cries arose of "Down
with the green coat! We have enough of charlatans like that!" and he was
forced to get down again. As Vernet opened the door to let him in,
several men took advantage of the circumstance to push in along with him;
but Vernet let his fist fall three times, and three men rolled at his
feet like bulls struck by a club. The others withdrew. A dozen
champions such as Vernet would have saved the marshal. Yet it must not
be forgotten that this man was a Royalist, and held the same opinions as
those against whom he fought; for him as for them the marshal was a
mortal enemy, but he had a noble heart, and if the marshal were guilty he
desired a trial and not a murder. Meantime a certain onlooker had heard
what had been said to M. de Chamans about his unofficial costume, and had
gone to put on his uniform. This was M. de Puy, a handsome and venerable
old man, with white hair, pleasant expression, and winning voice. He
soon came back in his mayor's robes, wearing his scarf and his double
cross of St. Louis and the Legion of Honour. But neither his age nor his
dignity made the slightest impression on these people; they did not even
allow him to get back to the hotel door, but knocked him down and
trampled him under foot, so that he hardly escaped with torn clothes and
his white hair covered with dust and blood. The fury of the mob had now
reached its height.

At this juncture the garrison of Avignon came in sight; it was composed
of four hundred volunteers, who formed a battalion known as the Royal
Angouleme. It was commanded by a man who had assumed the title of
Lieutenant-General of the Emancipating Army of Vaucluse. These forces
drew up under the windows of the "Palais Royal." They were composed
almost entirely of Provenceaux, and spoke the same dialect as the people
of the lower orders. The crowd asked the soldiers for what they had
come, why they did