"No! The privations, the sufferings and the ills that follow in the wake of the painful conquest of freedom are laid to Marcel's door. My husband is at once attacked by the emissaries of the court party and by those of the party of Maillart. These emissaries circulate among the poor people, who, credulous of evil as well as of good, are fickle in their affections, and whimsical in their hatred. It is harped upon to them that all the evils of these days would have been avoided if Councilman Maillart, 'the true friend of the people,' had been listened to; others preach prompt submission to the Regent as the only means to a speedy end of our public disasters. 'What does the Regent, after all, demand,' ask his backers, 'What does he exact in return for his pardon? Only eight hundred thousand gold pieces for the ransom of King John and the heads of the leaders of the revolt and of its principal partisans! Would it be paying too dearly with a little shame, a little gold and a little blood for the peace of the city?'" "Great God!" cried Denise, pale and trembling, "who are the leaders of the revolt whose heads the Regent demands?" "They are Marcel ... my son ... our best friends ... all honorable people, devoted to the public weal, adversaries of oppression and iniquity ... uncompromising enemies of the English, who are ravaging our unhappy land, and who would have put Paris to fire and sword were not Paris protected by the fortifications that it owes to Marcel's foresight and zeal! The people to-day seem to have forgotten the services that my husband has rendered the city; they seem to have forgotten that they owe to Marcel the reforms that have been imposed upon the Regent and which guarantee them against rapine and violence from the side of the court." "Can it be possible that the people are guilty of such ingratitude against Master Marcel?" "My husband's soul is too large, his spirit too just to have been swayed in his public acts by expectations of gratitude. How often has he not said to me: 'Let us do what is right and just, such acts are their own reward.' Marcel is prepared for any emergency. Nevertheless, thinking that my observations might be of benefit to him, I stepped into the house of our friend Simon the Feather-dealer who lives not far from the town-hall, and I wrote to my husband what I had seen and heard. My letter was carried to him by a trusty man----" but observing that the tears that Denise had long been suppressing now inundated her face, Marguerite interrupted her report, inquiring tenderly: "Why do you weep, dear Denise?" "Oh, aunt! I have neither your strength nor your courage.... The thought of the dangers that threaten Master Marcel ... and our friends ... overwhelm me with fear!" "Poor child! You are thinking of Jocelyn, your lover? He is a true friend of ours." "Should there be a riot or a fight, he will rush into the thickest ... to save Marcel."