heir hands to their swords.

Croustillac, alone between the two groups, was a butt for the
invectives, the attacks, and the maledictions of both parties. Intrepid,
audacious, his arms crossed, his head high, his eye unblenching, the
adventurer heard the muttering and bursting forth of this formidable
storm with impassible phlegm, saying to himself: "This ruins all; they
may throw me overboard--that is to say, into the open sea; the leap is
perilous, though I can swim like a Triton, but I can do no more; this
was sure to happen sooner or later; and beside, as I said this morning,
one does not sacrifice oneself for people in order to be crowned with
flowers and caressed by woodland nymphs."

Although at its height, the tumult was dominated by the voice of
Mortimer who cried: "Monsieur De Chemerant, have this wretch hanged
first; you owe us this satisfaction."

"Yes, yes, hang him to the yardarm," said the English gentlemen; "we
will have our explanations afterward."

"You will oblige me much by explaining yourselves beforehand!" cried
Croustillac.

"He speaks! he dares to speak!" cried one.

"Eh! who, then, will speak in my favor, if not myself?" replied the
Gascon. "Would it be you, by chance, my gentleman?"

"Gentlemen," cried De Chemerant, "Lord Mortimer is right in proposing
that justice be done to this abominable impostor."

"He is wrong; I maintain that he is wrong, a hundred thousand times
wrong!" cried Croustillac; "it is an obsolete, tame, vulgar means----"

"Be silent, unhappy wretch!" cried the athletic Mortimer, seizing the
hands of the Gascon.

"Do not lay your hands on a gentleman, or, Sdeath! you shall pay dear
for this outrage!" cried Croustillac angrily.

"Your sword, scoundrel!" said De Chemerant, while twenty raised arms
threatened the adventurer.

"In fact, the lion can do nothing against an hundred wolves," said the
Gascon majestically, giving up his rapier.

"Now, gentlemen," resumed De Chemerant, "I continue. Yes, the honorable
Lord Mortimer is right in wishing to have this rascal hanged."

"He is wrong! as long as I can raise my voice I will protest that he is
wrong! it is a preposterous, an unheard-of idea; it is the reasoning of
a horse. A fine argument is the gallows!" cried Croustillac, struggling
between two gentlemen who held him by the collar.

"But before administering justice, it is necessary to oblige him to
reveal to us the abominable plot which he has concocted. It is