But Dangeau stood motionless; an unbearable tension held him rigid. His steady eyes—like steel with the sun on it—fixed the leader of the mob;—fixed him, held him, stopped him. A bare yard from the gates, the man who held the head aloft slackened speed, hesitated, and finally came to a standstill so close to Dangeau that a little of the scented powder in the Princess’s hair fell down and whitened the sleeve of his outstretched arm. Like sheep, the silly crowd behind checked as their leader checked, and stopped as he had stopped. Dangeau and he stood looking at one another. The man was a giant, black and hairy, stripped to the waist and a-reek with blood. Under a villainous, low brow his hot, small eyes winked and glared, shifted, and fell at last before the steadier gaze. Dangeau turned a little, beckoning with his hand, and there was a momentary lull in the chorus of shouts, oaths, and obscene songs. "What do you want?" he shouted. The mob renewed its wild-beast howl. Dangeau beckoned again. "Let your leader speak," he called; and as the ruffian with the head was pleased to second his suggestion, he obtained a second interval in the storm. "What do you want?" he asked again, and received this time an answer, couched in language too explicit to be transcribed, but the substance of which was that the Capet woman was to kiss her precious friend. "And then?" Dangeau’s speech fell cold and clear as ice upon the heated words of the demagogue. "And then, aha! then—" She was to be taught what the people’s vengeance meant. For how many years had they toiled that she might have her sport? Now she should make sport for them, and then they would tear her limb from limb, show her traitorous heart to Paris, where she had lived so wantonly; burn her vile body to ashes. Again that high, cool voice—— "And then?" The ruffian scowled, spat viciously, and swore. "Then, then—a thousand devils! What did the Citizen mean with his ’and then’? He supposed that they should go home until there was another tyrant to kill." "And then—shall I tell you what then?—will you hear me, Dangeau? Some of you know me," and his eye lit on a wizened creature who danced horribly about the headless corpse. "Antoine, have you forgotten the February of two years ago?" The ghastly object ceased its strange rhythmic movements, stared a moment, and broke into voluble speech. "’T is a patriot, this Dangeau, I say it—I whom he saved from prison. Listen to him. He has good, strong words. Tell us then, Citizen, tell us what we’re to do," and he capered nearer, catching at Dangeau’s chair with fingers horribly smeared. Silence fell, and, after a very slight pause, Dangeau leaned forward and began to speak in a low, confidential tone. "All here are patriots, are they not? Not a traitor amongst you, citizens all, proved and true. You have struck down the enemies of France, and now you ask what next?" His voice rose suddenly and thrilled over the vast concourse.