Nor was Louis Philippe less warlike than his minister. All Paris heard of the indignant and threatening language which he had used to the Prussian and Austrian ambassadors. Taking them aside at the Tuileries, he had bitterly reproached them for the ingratitude which their Courts had displayed towards him. For ten years he had held the revolution in check and his reward had been the Quadrilateral Treaty of July. But, and at this point his voice could be heard far beyond the confines of the room in which the interview took place, "they had better not provoke him too far. He had discarded the red cap. Some day, perhaps, they might be disagreeably surprised to find that he had resumed it."[609] This threat, which was uttered as though it had escaped him in the heat of passion, was well calculated to give Metternich much cause for uneasy reflection. At the same time the King's eldest son, the Duc d'Orléans, a keen and ambitious soldier, loudly proclaimed that France had been insulted. With perfect sincerity he declared his belief in the necessity of war. "If the worst came to the worst," he told his friends, "he had rather be killed in action upon the Rhine, than be shot in a street fight and die in the gutter."[610] Under the influence of the revolutionary recollections evoked by the anti-dynastic press, and of the threats of war to be waged upon Jacobinical principles,[611] indulged in by the organs of M. Thiers, public excitement in Paris rose to an alarming pitch. The situation was complicated by a series of strikes in different trades. Bands of men deprived of their employment marched through the streets singing the _Marseillaise_. The secret republican societies fomented the discontent of the working classes and fanned the flame of war. Disturbances took place, and the authorities were apprehensive of an attack by the mob upon the British embassy.