There was silence for a moment, broken only by the entreaties of the wretch on the floor. At last Barbaroux spoke. "She has said rightly," he pronounced. "He shall live. They have put us out of the law and set a price on our heads; but we will keep the law. He shall live. But, hark you," the great orator continued, in tones which Michel never forgot, "if a whisper escape you as to our presence here, or our names, or if you wrong your wife by word or deed, the life she has saved shall pay for it. "Remember!" he added, shaking Michel to and fro with a finger, "the arm of Barbaroux is long, and though I be a hundred leagues away, I shall know and I shall punish. So, beware! Now rise, and live!" The miserable man cowered back to the wall, frightened to the core of his heart. The Girondins conferred a while in whispers, two of their number assisting Pierre to cross the barrier. Suddenly there came--and Michel trembled anew as he heard it--a loud knocking at the door. All started and stood listening and waiting. A voice outside cried: "Open! open! in the name of the law!" "We have lingered too long," Barbaroux muttered. "I should have thought of this. It is the Mayor of Carbaix come to apprehend our friend." Again the Girondins conferred together. At last, seeming to arrive at a conclusion, they ranged themselves on either side of the door, and one of their number opened it. A short, stout man, girt with a tricolor sash, and wearing a huge sword, entered with an air of authority--being blinded by the light he saw nothing out of the common--and was followed by four men armed with muskets. Their appearance produced an extraordinary effect on Michel Tellier. As they one by one crossed the threshold, the peasant leaned forward, his face flushed, his eyes gleaming, and counted them. They were only five. And the others were twelve. He fell back, and from that moment his belief in the Girondins' power was clinched. "In the name of the law!" panted the mayor. "Why did you not--" Then he stopped abruptly, his mouth remaining open. He found himself surrounded by a group of grim, silent mutes, with arms in their hands, and in a twinkling it flashed into his mind that these were the eleven chiefs of the Girondins, whom he had been warned to keep watch for. He had come to catch a pigeon and had caught a crow. He turned pale and his eyes dropped. "Who are--who are these gentlemen?" he stammered, in a ludicrously altered tone. "Some volunteers of Quumpen, returning home," replied Barbaroux, with ironical smoothness. "You have your papers, citizens?" the mayor asked, mechanically; and he took a step back towards the door, and looked over his shoulder. "Here they are!" said Petion rudely, thrusting a packet into his hands. "They are in order."