view, or the malcontents who would not lose a
moment to discuss their grievances, to murmur covert threats, or suggest
revolt in some shape or form or kind.

Bobby slipped quickly past several of these isolated groups, indifferent
to the dark and glowering looks of suspicion that were cast at his tall,
muscular figure with the firm step and the defiant walk that was vaguely
reminiscent of the British troops that had been in Paris last year at
the time of the foreign occupation. He had skirted the Tuileries gardens
and was walking along the embankment which now was dark and solitary
save for some rowdy enthusiasts on ahead who, arm in arm in two long
rows that reached from the garden railings to the parapet, were
obstructing the roadway and shouting themselves hoarse with "Vive
l'Empereur!"

Clyffurde, who was walking faster than they did, was just deliberating
in his mind whether he would turn back and go home some other way or
charge this unpleasant obstruction from the rear and risk the
consequences, when he noticed two figures still further on ahead walking
in the same direction as he himself and the rowdy crowd.

One of these two figures--thus viewed in the distance, through the mist
and from the back--looked nevertheless like that of a woman, which fact
at once decided Bobby as to what he would do next. He sprinted toward
the crowd as fast as he could, but unfortunately he did not come up with
them in time to prevent the two unfortunate pedestrians being surrounded
by the turbulent throng which, still arm in arm and to the accompaniment
of wild shouts, had formed a ring around them and were now vociferating
at the top of raucous voices:

"A bas la cocarde blanche! A bas! Vive l'Empereur!"

A flickering street lamp feebly lit up this unpleasant scene. Bobby saw
the vague outline of a man and of a woman, standing boldly in the midst
of the hostile crowd while two white cockades gleamed defiantly against
the dark background of their cloaks. To an Englishman, who was a
pastmaster in the noble art of using fists and knees to advantage, the
situation was neither uncommon nor very perilous. The crowd was noisy it
is true, and was no doubt ready enough for mischief, but Clyffurde's
swift and scientific onslaught from the rear staggered and disconcerted
the most bold. There was a good deal more shouting, plenty of cursing;
the Englishman's arms and legs seemed to be flying in every direction
like the arms of a windmill