Boot to boot, the Count's men came on, pressing round her women and shielding them from the exuberance of the throng.

In their faces too she thought that she traced uneasiness.

What wonder if the scenes through which she had passed in Paris began to recur to her mind, and shook nerves already overwrought?
She began to tremble.

"Is there--danger ?" she muttered, speaking in a low voice to Bigot, who rode on her right hand.

"Will they do anything ?" The Norman snorted.