invisible, or
still more questionably visible, for instants: then also a too loyal
Municipality requires supervision: no order, civil or military, taken
about any of these thousand things! Lecointre is at the Versailles
Townhall: he is at the Grate of the Grand Court; communing with Swiss
and Bodyguards. He is in the ranks of Flandre; he is here, he is there:
studious to prevent bloodshed; to prevent the Royal Family from flying
to Metz; the Menads from plundering Versailles.

At the fall of night, we behold him advance to those armed groups of
Saint-Antoine, hovering all-too grim near the Salle des Menus. They
receive him in a half-circle; twelve speakers behind cannons, with
lighted torches in hand, the cannon-mouths towards Lecointre: a picture
for Salvator! He asks, in temperate but courageous language: What they,
by this their journey to Versailles, do specially want? The twelve
speakers reply, in few words inclusive of much: "Bread, and the end of
these brabbles, Du pain, et la fin des affaires." When the affairs will
end, no Major Lecointre, nor no mortal, can say; but as to bread, he
inquires, How many are you?--learns that they are six hundred, that a
loaf each will suffice; and rides off to the Municipality to get six
hundred loaves.

Which loaves, however, a Municipality of Monarchic temper will not give.
It will give two tons of rice rather,--could you but know whether it
should be boiled or raw. Nay when this too is accepted, the Municipals
have disappeared;--ducked under, as the Six-and-Twenty Long-gowned of
Paris did; and, leaving not the smallest vestage of rice, in the boiled
or raw state, they there vanish from History!

Rice comes not; one's hope of food is baulked; even one's hope of
vengeance: is not M. de Moucheton of the Scotch Company, as we
said, deceitfully smuggled off? Failing all which, behold only M. de
Moucheton's slain warhorse, lying on the Esplanade there! Saint-Antoine,
baulked, esurient, pounces on the slain warhorse; flays it; roasts
it, with such fuel, of paling, gates, portable timber as can be come
at,--not without shouting: and, after the manner of ancient Greek
Heroes, they lifted their hands to the daintily readied repast; such as
it might be. (Weber, Deux Amis, &c.) Other Rascality prowls discursive;
seeking what it may devour. Flandre will retire to its barracks;
Lecointre also with his Versaillese,--all but the vigilant Patrols,
charged to be doubly vigilant.

So sink t