They seized indeed two or three of the scattered troopers, and tearing them from their horses, wreaked their passion upon them horribly.

But most of the Switzers escaped, thanks to the attention the mob paid to the houses and what was going forward on the galleries; and these, extricating themselves joined us one by one, so that gradually a little ring of stern faces gathered about the stair-foot.

A moment's hesitation, and seeing no help for it, we ranged ourselves with them; and, unchecked as unbidden, sprang on three of the led horses.
All this passed more quickly than I can relate it: so that before our feet were well in the stirrups a partial silence, then a mightier roar of anger at once proclaimed and hailed the re-appearance of the Vidame.
Bigoted beyond belief were the mob of Paris of that day, cruel, vengeful, and always athirst for blood; and this man had killed not only their leader but a priest.

He had committed sacrilege! What would they do?
I could just, by stooping forward, command a side view of the gallery, and the scene passing there was such that I forgot in it our own peril.
For surely in all his reckless life Bezers had never been so emphatically the man for the situation--had never shown to such advantage as at this moment when he stood confronting the sea of faces, the sneer on his lip, a smile in his eyes; and looked down unblenching, a figure of scorn, on the men who were literally agape for his life.
The calm defiance of his steadfast look fascinated even me.

Wonder and admiration for the time took the place of dislike.