Knowing
of what inflammable material the audience was composed, he had
deliberately flung down amongst them the lighted torch of discord,
to produce this conflagration.
He saw men falling quickly into groups representative of one side
or the other of this great quarrel that already was beginning to
agitate the whole of France. Their rallying cries were ringing
through the theatre.
"Down with the canaille!" from some.
"Down with the privileged!" from others.
And then above the general din one cry rang out sharply and
insistently:
"To the box! Death to the butcher of Rennes! Death to La Tour
d'Azyr who makes war upon the people!"
There was a rush for one of the doors of the pit that opened upon
the staircase leading to the boxes.
And now, whilst battle and confusion spread with the speed of fire,
overflowing from the theatre into the street itself, La Tour
d'Azyr's box, which had become the main object of the attack of the
bourgeoisie, had also become the rallying ground for such gentlemen
as were present in the theatre and for those who, without being men
of birth themselves, were nevertheless attached to the party of the
nobles.
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