When this task was done, and he had received a chunk of sour bread for
his reward from Jeannette Marechal, the cook, he shuffled out of the
place and into the street, to do his employer's errands.

IV

Paul Mole had been to the offices of the Moniteur and to the printing
works of L'Ami du Peuple. He had seen the citizen Dufour at the Club
and, presumably, had spent the rest of his time wandering idly about the
streets of the quartier, for he did not return to the rue des Cordeliers
until nearly nine o'clock.

As soon as he came to the top of the street, he fell in with the crowd
which had collected outside No. 30. With his habitual slouchy gait and
the steady pressure of his powerful elbows, he pushed his way to the
door, whilst gleaning whisperings and rumours on his way.

"The citizen Marat has been assassinated."

"By a woman."

"A mere girl."

"A wench from Caen. Her name is Corday."

"The people nearly tore her to pieces awhile ago."

"She is as much as guillotined already."