undered "a Wolf! a Wolf!" And I too,
lost my head, and drew my sword, and screamed at the top of my voice,
"a Caylus! a Caylus!" with the maddest.

Thousands of eyes besides mine were strained on the foremost figures on
either side. They met as it chanced precisely at the door of the
house. The mob leader was a slender man, I saw; a priest apparently,
though now he was girt with unpriestly weapons, his skirts were tucked
up, and his head was bare. So much my first glance showed me. It was
at the second look it was when I saw the blood forsake his pale
lowering face and leave it whiter than ever, when horror sprang along
with recognition to his eyes, when borne along by the crowd behind he
saw his position and who was before him--it was only then when his mean
figure shrank, and he quailed and would have turned but could not, that
I recognized the Coadjutor.

I was silent now, my mouth agape. There are seconds which are minutes;
ay, and many minutes. A man may die, a man may come into life in such
a second. In one of these, it seemed to me, those two men paused, face
to face; though in fact a pause was for one of them impossible. He was
between--and I think he knew it--the devil and the deep sea. Yet he
seemed to pause, while all, even that yelling crowd below, held their
breath. The next moment, glaring askance at one another like two dogs
unevenly coupled, he and Bezers shot shoulder to shoulder into the
doorway, and in another jot of time would have been out of sight. But
then, in that instant, I saw something happen. The Vidame's hand
flashed up above the priest's head, and the cross-hilt of his sheathed
sword crashed down with awful force, and still more awful passion, on
the other's tonsure! The wretch went down like a log, without a word,
without a cry! Amid a roar of rage from a thousand throats, a roar
that might have shaken the stoutest heart, and blanched the swarthiest
cheek, Bezers disappeared within!

It was then I saw the power of discipline and custom. Few as were the
troopers who had followed him--a mere handful--they fell without
hesitation on the foremost of the crowd, who were already in confusion,
stumbling and falling over their leader's body; and hurled them back
pell-mell along the gallery. The throng below had no firearms, and
could give no aid at the moment; the stage was narrow; in two minutes
the Vidame's people had swept it clear of the crowd and were in
possession of it