run.

As Stuart entered the palace with his men at his heels, Clay was
hurrying from its rear entrance along the upper hall, and Hope
and Madame Alvarez were leaving the apartments of the latter at
its front. They met at the top of the main stairway just as
Stuart put his foot on its lower step. The young Englishman
heard the clatter of his men following close behind him and
leaped eagerly forward. Half way to the top the noise behind him
ceased, and turning his head quickly he looked back over his
shoulder and saw that the men had halted at the foot of the
stairs and stood huddled together in disorder looking up at him.
Stuart glanced over their heads and down the hallway to the
garden beyond to see if they were followed, but the mob still
fought from the outer side of the barricade. He waved his sword
impatiently and started forward again. ``Come on!'' he shouted.
But the men below him did not move. Stuart halted once more and
this time turned about and looked down upon them with surprise
and anger. There was not one of them he could not have called by
name. He knew all their little troubles, their love-affairs,
even. They came to him for comfort and advice, and to beg for
money. He had regarded them as his children, and he was proud of
them as soldiers because they were the work of his hands.

So, instead of a sharp command, he asked, ``What is it?'' in
surprise, and stared at them wondering. He could not or would
not comprehend, even though he saw that those in the front rank
were pushing back and those behind were urging them forward. The
muzzles of their carbines were directed at every point, and on
their faces fear and hate and cowardice were written in varying