The others laughed in grim content.

Merlin grunted a surly approval.

He had no cause to love the provincial coal-heaver who had raised a raucous voice to threaten him.
Then, nodding to one another, the last of the patriots, satisfied with this night's work, passed out into the night.
The watchman was making his rounds, carrying his lantern, and shouting his customary cry: "Inhabitants of Paris, sleep quietly.

Everything is in order, everything is at peace.".