Indignation and contempt controlled their rage.

Insult escaped them only in under tones; the populace was sinister, and not furious.

Thousands of glances darted death into the windows of the carriages, but not one tongue uttered a threat.
This calmness of hatred did not escape the king; the day was burning hot.

A scorching sun, reflected by the pavement and the bayonets, was almost suffocating in the berlin, where ten persons were squeezed together.

Volumes of dust, raised by the trampling of two or three hundred thousand spectators, was the only veil which from time to time covered the humiliation of the king and queen from the triumph of the people.