Up in one of the galleries, wedged in between a shopkeeper and a fishwife, the Marquis de Château-Foix had surveyed this scene with the profoundest disgust. It was a relief when, turning to the serious business of the day, the President announced as the subject for discussion “the situation of France,” and the groups of deputies again broke up, scrambling hurriedly to their seats. In comparative silence a member of the Gironde, Jean Debry, mounted the steps of the tribune. It seemed to Gilbert that most of the deputies of the Left looked worn and anxious, and that they accorded the orator but a divided attention, trying at the same time to keep a watch upon the tribunes of the people in order to see the effect of his words. Once, when the King was mentioned with disparagement, there arose a cry from a gallery, “Vive Monsieur Véto!” It was promptly suppressed, but it came again, and was echoed several times; but, on the whole, the tradesmen, artisans, and loafers who jostled each other in the galleries did not seem particularly interested. Indeed, by their frequent interruptions, they encouraged the speaker to make a speedy end, and Jean Debry was not long in granting their desire. His words were purely introductory, and he seemed glad to descend from the tribune. When his place became vacant a buzz of interest immediately broke out. It had gone round the galleries that the next speaker was to be Vergniaud, the greatest orator of the Legislative. Just above the tribune especially much excitement prevailed, the rabble of the street jostling with the respectable bourgeois to catch a glimpse of the man who was seen to be making his way to it. It was Vergniaud; the massive head and shoulders of the Girondin were unmistakable. A silence more expressive of approval than any applause fell upon the galleries. Château-Foix looked curiously at the celebrated orator, and decided, like everybody else, that he was not handsome. His slanting forehead was too high, his nose and chin too pronounced, his lips too full, his brows too prominent. In repose it was a face to attract attention almost by its ugliness. As the Girondin opened his lips to speak his words were drowned in a sudden burst of applause from the galleries, and the Left looked at one another, relief written on their faces.