Beware how you teach that; beware how you listen to him then." He turned from her abruptly and tottered away.

Glancing aside, she met the Vicomte de Tocqueville's tired smile; he was using his cane to prod the butcher and recall his attention to the half-cut steak.

But the butcher continued to stare down the street.
"Eh?
But, dear me, it sounds like an _emeute_," said the Vicomte, negligently; at the same time stepping to Dorothea's side.
The murmur of the crowd in front of "The Dogs" had been swelling, and now broke into sharp, angry cries for a moment; then settled into a dull roar, and rose in a hoarse _crescendo_.

The mail coach was evidently not the centre of disturbance, though Dorothea could see its driver waving his arm and gesticulating from the box.

The noise came ahead of it, some twenty yards lower down the hill, where the street had suddenly grown black with people pressing and swaying.
"There seems no danger here, whatever it is," said the Vicomte, glancing up at the house-front above.
"Please go and see what is the matter.