Madeleine, without another word, seized on a drum, and rattled it vigorously. The women trooped round her, and in a moment she was at the head of a legion of famished, furious women, some of whom had not tasted food for thirty hours. 'Let us march to Versailles,' cried several; 'let us besiege the great bakehouse.' 'Lead on, you girl with the drum!' cried others. 'Whither shall I lead?' asked Madeleine. 'To Versailles!' was the general shout. 'We will tell the Assembly that we starve,'--'we will bring the king to Paris, and he shall see how hungry we are,'--'we will surround him, and protect the good papa from our enemies and his.' Such were some of the cries that arose. 'Let us go to the Hôtel de Ville!' called another. 'Yes, yes, to the Hôtel de Ville first,' the mob clamoured. It happened just then that Madame Deschwanden and Gabrielle were passing. The little lady saw Madeleine at once, and she ran to her, arrested her in her drumming, and asked, 'My dear! for pity's sake, what is the matter?' 'Mother, the poor things are starving; and the great nobles at Versailles are going to carry our king off to Metz and make war on the people; then we shall have famine and war together.' 'That will never do,' said madame; 'no one will want new caps, and I shall be out of work. But why are you drumming?' 'Mother! we are going to the Hôtel de Ville first, and then on to Versailles to bring the king to Paris.' 'Nonsense, Madeleine.' 'We are going to do it,' said the girl bluntly; 'the men are cowards,--see what the women will do.' 'Oh ecstasy! oh raptures!' exclaimed Madame Deschwanden; 'what sport! it is as good as a play. I shall accompany you, and Gabrielle shall come too.' 'What, to Versailles?' asked the little peasantess in dismay; 'I pray you let me remain behind.' 'No, come with me, I will protect you; the day is fine, and we shall have a charming expedition, and shall see such dresses. Ecstasy! raptures!' In vain did Gabrielle plead; Madame Deschwanden linked her arm within her own and drew her along. Onward drave the concourse of women--shop-girls, milliners, portresses, servants, market-women--till they reached the Place de Grève. The cavalry of the national guard were drawn up there; the women charged them, and with a volley of stones drove them back, for the soldiers could not make up their minds to fire upon them. They would have burnt the Hôtel de Ville, in their ravenous wildness, because it contained no bread, had not the solemn, gigantic Stanislas Maillard, one of the conquerors of the Bastille, arrested them. He beat a drum and obtained a hearing. He offered to conduct the crowd to Versailles, and the women, liking his appearance and knowing his name, put themselves under his order. In half an hour the army of women was in marching order; they drew with them the cannon of the Place de Grève, and were armed with sticks, cutlasses, and a few guns.