At sight of her the whole hall rang with shouts of applause, which would have been unanimous, if a hiss, coming from the balcony, had not protested against this general opinion. But scarcely had the hiss made itself heard than a voice from the parterre answered it with the exclamation: "Wretch!" Tétrell turned quickly, and leaning over the balcony cried: "Who said wretch?" "I," answered the same voice. "And who did you call a wretch?" "You." "You are hiding in the parterre; just show yourself!" A youth, scarcely fifteen years of age, sprang upon the bench with a single bound, and standing head and shoulders above the people, cried: "Here I am. I show myself, as you see." "Eugene Beauharnais! The son of General Beauharnais!" exclaimed several spectators, who had known the general during his stay in Strasbourg, and who recognized the boy, who had also been there for some time. General Beauharnais had been much loved, and a group gathered round the boy, whom Augereau on the one side, and Charles on the other stood ready to support. "Whelp of an aristocrat!" cried Tétrell, on seeing who his adversary was. "Bastard of a wolf!" retorted the youth, refusing to lower his eyes before the threatening glance of the leader of the Propagande. "If you make me come down to you," shouted Tétrell, grinding his teeth, "you had better look out, or I will spank you." "If you make me come up to you I will slap you," replied Eugene. "Here, this is for you!" cried Tétrell, forcing himself to laugh, and spitting at Eugene. "And that is for you, coward!" retorted the youth, flinging his glove, into which he had slipped a few leaden pellets, full at his antagonist. Tétrell uttered a cry of rage, and put his hand to his cheek, which was all covered with blood. Tétrell, in his thirst for revenge, could not stop to go round by the corridors. He pulled a pistol from his belt, aimed it at the boy, around whom a space was suddenly cleared, every one fearing to be struck by a ball from the weapon in Tétrell's trembling hand, which threatened every one in his vicinity. But at the same moment a man wearing the uniform of the volunteers of Paris, and bearing the insignia of a sergeant's rank, threw himself between Tétrell and the boy, protecting the latter with his body, and folded his arms. "That's all very well, citizen!" said he, "but when a man wears a sword he ought not to commit murder." "Bravo, volunteer! bravo, sergeant!" came from every corner of the theatre. "Do you know," he continued, "what this child, this whelp of an aristocrat, this brat, as you call him, was doing this morning while you were making fine speeches at the Propagande? He was fighting to prevent the enemy from entering Strasbourg. While you were asking for the heads of your friends, he was killing the enemies of France. Now, put up your pistol, which does not frighten me, and listen to what I have to say."