t. It is viciously administered by both foot and knee.
Next to that is the kick on the shins, which, delivered by a heavy,
iron-shod cowhide boot, is pretty apt to render the recipient hors de
combat. Supplemented by a quick fist and directed by a quicker temper,
the French police agent is no mean antagonist in a general row. In
brutality and impulsive cruelty he is but the flesh and blood of
those with whom he has mostly to deal.

The battle now raged with increasing violence, the combatants being
slowly driven down upon the approaching manifestants from the Quartier
Latin, Montmartre, and La Villette. It had become everybody's fight,
the original Dreyfusardes having been largely eliminated by
nationaliste clubs and police arrests. The ambulances and cellular
vans, playfully termed "salad-baskets," thoughtfully stationed in the
side streets, were being rapidly filled, and as fast as filled were
driven to hospital and prison respectively.

The reverberating roar of human voices beat against the tall
buildings, rising and falling in frightful diapason, as if it were the
echo from a thousand savage creatures of the jungle clashing their
fangs in deadly combat.

Jean Marot and his immediate followers had scarcely turned from the
scene at the cafe before they were swallowed up in the vortex that now
met them. Indeed, Jean had not witnessed either the horrible brutality
of the butcher or his punishment. The cries of "Les agents! a bas les
agents!" had suddenly carried him elsewhere on the field of battle. He
found himself, fired by the fever of conflict, in the middle of the
broad street so closely surrounded by friends and foes that sticks
were encumbrances. A short arm blow only was now and then effective. A
dozen police agents were underfoot somewhere, being pitilessly stamped
and trampled by the frantic mob. The platoon that had charged was
wiped out as a platoon. Those who were hemmed in fought like demons.
Men throttled each other and swayed back and forth and yelled
imprecations and fell in struggling masses and got upon their feet
again and twisted and squirmed and panted, like so many monsters, half
serpent and half beast, seeking to bury their fangs in some vital part
or tear each other limb from limb.

Suddenly Jean saw rise before him a face that drove everything else
from his mind. It was that of one who saw him at the same instant. And
when these bloodshot eyes of passion met a fierce yell of wrath burst
f