“What is it?” I exclaimed; but three men, risen at that moment from a bench under some chestnut-trees, engaged my surprised attention. They made at the postilions, it seemed, and the face of him that was foremost twitched with a rage of nervous resentment. Their hats had been laid beside them in the shade, and I noticed that as this individual sprang to his feet, the powder leapt from his head as if a musket-ball had struck it. For he was very sprucely groomed, every hair currycombed to run parallel with its fellows; and there was a fastidious neatness about his appearance that was like the peevish delicacy of an invalid. Such, indeed, he was, from more than one point of view; for he was no other than M. Robespierre himself, dressed in the fine blue coat he was studying to make historical, and exhibiting the weak extremes of his nature in presence of a run-over dog. “But this is infamous!” I heard him shrill, in a strained wavering voice. “Thus to shock our humanity and our nerves!” He ran to the carriage window in uncontrollable excitement. He bustled with his shaking speech so that it was hardly audible. “What mischief produces itself that you tear through the streets like brigands? Messieurs--messieurs! but I say you have no right--citizens, do you hear?” Crépin, dismayed, muttered something about authority. The other snapped at the word and worried it. “Authority! there is none in this city to be careless of innocent lives. Authority! who excuses himself to me--to the Republic--by assuming a licence to murder under its ægis,--yes, murder, I say? You would adopt the prerogatives of aristocrats--you are an aristocrat--Tachereau! St Just!” He was beside himself. His lean hands picked at the window-frame. All the time the poor cur in the road was screeching, and the sound seemed to jar him out of his self-control. One of his companions stepped up to him, put a hand upon his arm, and drew him away. Quite a little mob had gathered about us. “_Reculez les chevaux!_” said this person to the postilions. “Complete what you have begun.” The horses backed the carriage once, and drew forward again, stilling the cries. Personally I should have preferred alighting during the operation. Robespierre ran to the trees and put his palms to his ears, doubling himself up as if he had the toothache. The other came to the window once more.