Somewhere inside Dangeau’s brain a little mocking devil laughed, but the crowd applauded,—a fine appetite for flattery characterises the monster Demos,—it was pleased, and through its thousand mouths it clamorously demanded more. "I stand here to make that appeal to your reason, which I am assured cannot fail. First, I would point out to you that these prisoners are not only prisoners of ours, but hostages of France. Look at our frontiers: England threatens from the sea, Austria and Spain from the south; but their hands are tied, Citizens, their hands are tied. They can threaten and bluster, but they dare take no steps which would lead to the sacrifice of the tyrant and his brood. Wait a little, my friends; wait a little until our brave Dumouriez has won us a battle or two, and then the day of justice may dawn." He paused a moment, and, gauging his audience, cried quickly: "Vive Dumouriez! Vive l’armée!" Half a dozen voices echoed him at first, but in a minute the cry was taken up on the outskirts of the crowd, and came rolling to the front in a storm of cheers. Dangeau let it have its course, then motioned for silence, and got it. "France owes much to Dumouriez," he said. "We are a nation of soldiers, and we can appreciate his work. Let us support him, then, and do nothing to embarrass him in his absence. Let him first drive the invaders of France back across her insulted frontiers, and then—" He was interrupted by a howl of applause, but he got the word again directly. "Citizens of Paris," he called, "your good name is in your own keeping. They are some who would be glad to see it lost. There are some, I will name no names, who are jealous of the pre-eminence of our beautiful Paris. They would be glad of an excuse for moving the seat of government. I name no names, I make no accusations, but I know what I know." "Name them, name them!—down with the traitors!" shouted the mob. "They are those who bid you destroy the prisoners," returned Dangeau boldly. "They are those who urge you to lay violent hands on a trust which is sacred, because we have received it from the hands of the people. They are those who wish to represent you to the world as incapable of governing, blind with passion. Shall this be said?" A shout of denial went up. "Citizens of Paris, you have elected us your representatives. You have reposed in us this sacred trust. If we abuse it, you have your remedy. The Nation which elected can degrade; the men who have placed in us their confidence can withdraw that confidence; but whilst we hold it, we will deserve it, and will die in its defence." The crowd shook with applause, but there were dissenting voices. One or two of the leaders showed dark, ominous faces; the huge man with the head scowled deepest, he seemed about to speak, and eyed Dangeau’s chair as if he contemplated annexing it.