opposition. Personal collisions, blows, objurgations, came thicker and
faster.

Finally, from the "terrasse" of a fashionable cafe in the Boulevard
Malesherbes came very decided expressions of dissent. They were
followed by a general assault on the place. Not less than thirty of
the usual respectable Sunday afternoon "consommateurs" occupied the
chairs, and, though not more than half a dozen of these could have
offended, the mob came down upon them like a living avalanche,
throwing the entire Sunday party of both sexes promiscuously among the
debris of tables, chairs, glasses, and drinks.

The women shrieked, the men cursed loudly, and everybody struggled in
the general wreck. While the male portion were kicked and stamped
where they lay, the feminine part of the cafe crowd fought tooth and
nail to escape in any direction.

There were three dissatisfied beings, however, who objected to this
summary treatment, and who, having regained a footing, courageously
defended themselves with the nearest weapons at hand. These were empty
beer-glasses, which, being fraudulently double thick at the bottom,
were admirably designed for that particular use. But when three
beer-glasses conflict with twenty loaded canes the former, however
valiantly wielded, must succumb to the rule of the majority. Among the
latter, too, was the particularly heavy stick of the patriot from the
abattoirs of La Villette. He had received a blow from a glass that
laid his cheek open and had jumped upon his assailant.

"Death!" he roared.

The man sank without a groan amid the broken glass, beer, and blood.
The savage aimed a terrific blow of the boot at the upturned face,
but was jostled out of his aim. Again, and with the snarl of a wild
beast; but a woman had thrown herself across the prostrate figure and
encircled the still form with her protecting arm. The butcher would
have planted his iron-shod heel upon her, but at this critical
juncture another woman--a slender, pale, weak-looking thing whose
blonde hair fell loosely over her rouged cheeks--flew at him with a
scream half human, half feline,--such as chills the blood in the
midnight of the forest. With one hand she tore out great bunches of
beard by the roots, with the other she left red furrows on his face
like the paths of a garden-rake. Quick as lightning-flashes, again and
again, and with each successive stroke of her claws came the low,
hysterical whine of the wild beast.

It was Mlle.