"They'll stop at nothing.

If they can't overawe us, by God, they'll assassinate us.

They are determined to conduct these States of Brittany in their own way.

No interests but their own shall be considered." Andre-Louis left him still talking, and clove himself a way through that human press.
At the statue's base he came upon a little cluster of students about the body of the murdered lad, all stricken with fear and helplessness.
"You here, Moreau!" said a voice.
He looked round to find himself confronted by a slight, swarthy man of little more than thirty, firm of mouth and impertinent of nose, who considered him with disapproval.

It was Le Chapelier, a lawyer of Rennes, a prominent member of the Literary Chamber of that city, a forceful man, fertile in revolutionary ideas and of an exceptional gift of eloquence.
"Ah, it is you, Chapelier! Why don't you speak to them?
Why don't you tell them what to do?
Up with you, man!" And he pointed to the plinth.
Le Chapelier's dark, restless eyes searched the other's impassive face for some trace of the irony he suspected.