“We are so happy, let us forgive,” she had pleaded; and herself had provided her uncle with a sum of money. But Pascal had not forgiven Dauban, and learning when he and his master were to be released, had whispered a word to Babillon which had results. As the two men reached the farther end of the market place, where it narrowed into the street leading to the city gate, they found the press of people so great that no more than a walking pace was possible; and just at that moment they were recognized. Cries and hooting, coarse jests and gibes, took the place of smiles and cheers; clenched fists were raised in menace, as the people closed round the horses, rough hands being laid on the bridles. De Proballe scowled in anger, and when one man seized the bridle of his horse and jeered at him to his face, he was foolhardy enough in his rage to raise his whip and strike the man across the mouth. It was the spark to the tinder, and the flame burst out directly. In a moment he and Dauban were torn from their horses and jostled and shouldered and thrust from hand to hand, in the midst of a rough but not over ill-tempered crowd. Babillon was close at hand, and himself raised the cry of “No violence on such a day as this. No violence.” And the cry was caught up by the people, and followed by bursts of thunderous jeering laughter at the sour looks and angry faces of the two men. It was rough jesting, however; and just when the people were tiring of it and the pair were getting back to their horses, a cry was raised by some one of “The pond, the pond;” and this, too, swelled into a roar. Dauban was seized first by half a dozen stalwart fellows, and, writhing, struggling and kicking in futile resistance, was borne along and tossed into the middle of the pond which was near. He emerged a minute later, a shivering, soaked, half-drowned and all-bedraggled figure to be greeted, as he shook himself and stood squeezing the dirty water from his clothes, with such a roar of raucous laughter as might have been heard through half the city. De Proballe’s turn came next; and despite his angry, vehement protests, he was seized in the same manner, and carried, fighting and screaming out impotent threats and curses, in the direction of the pond. But before his ruthless captors reached the pond, an interruption came. Gerard and Gabrielle, with some others in attendance, had been riding, and were returning, when their attention was attracted by the sounds of the disturbance, and they came in full view of the proceedings just when Dauban stood shivering after his ducking and the crowd had seized upon de Proballe. Gerard was for letting the thing be settled by the people, but Gabrielle would not, and with a touch of the spur, put her horse in the way. Her appearance was the signal for a rousing cheer, and as soon as she could be heard, she said to those about her--