"Were you in my troop I would dip your trigger-finger in boiling oil to teach you to shoot! But you weary me, dogs.

I must teach you a lesson, must I ?" And he lifted a pistol and levelled it.

The crowd did not know whether it was the one he had discharged or another, but they gave back with a sharp gasp.

"I must teach you, must I ?" he continued with scorn.

"Here, Bigot, Badelon, drive me these blusterers! Rid the street of them! A Tavannes! A Tavannes!" Not by word or look had he before this betrayed that he had supports.