Meanwhile, the pretty girl threw both arms about her companion, and, raising her head, seemed to defy with her glance those who surrounded her, and to say to them: "Come forward now, if you dare!" All this had taken place in an instant; but the panic was soon over, and all the young men, who were in the habit of beating the watch, fighting with citizens, and brawling every night in the streets of Paris, were in no humor to fly from a peasant's club. Having retired to a safe distance, they turned about once more and drew their swords; the bachelors, students, pages, and esquires did the same; for at that blessed epoch almost every man wore a sword or a rapier of some sort, in order to be always in a position to fight on the most trivial pretext: a consequence of the gentle manners and pacific customs of the good old times. At sight of the bare swords, Miretta said to her companion: "Come, push on, Cédrille! beat your horse! Let us get away from here, or some disaster will happen to us." The peasant shook Bourriquet's rein with no gentle force; but although the beast no longer felt a hand on his bit, he stood like a statue in his tracks, and, in spite of the urging of his rider, refused to advance a step, terrified doubtless by the noise that he heard and by the crowd that stood in a circle about him. Meanwhile, the young men again approached, half threateningly, half laughingly; they brandished their swords, and some of the points were already in contact with the dogwood staff which Cédrille continued to handle with much address, while they shouted in his ears: "Down! down, rustic!" "Dismount at once, and ask our pardon on your knees!" "Yes, let him apologize! or else we will carry off the girl!" "And Bourriquet too!" "And we will break the staff over Cédrille's back!" "Break my staff!--Oh! jarnidieu! there's more than one of you who will have a few ribs broken first!" But when she saw all those gleaming blades directed against her companion, and often, by inadvertence, threatening her own person, pretty Miretta uttered piercing shrieks; she called imploringly for help. To her cries, uttered as they were in a plaintive, grief-stricken tone, the young men replied by a storm of jests and lamentations; they tried to reassure the girl, to make her understand that they would do her no harm; but she, too terrified to hear what they said, continued her outcries. Thereupon Master Hugonnet, who thus far had continued to shave Monsieur de Monclair, abandoned his customer and ran into the street to find out what was happening. At the same time, Ambroisine left the baths to ascertain the cause of the uproar and the shrieks that she heard.