Hotel de Ville, and inaugurate the reign of folly by creating an
oligarchy of lawyers to resist the march of triumphal armies. Messieurs,
I have done with you. You are summoned for the last time: the Council is
dissolved."

With these words Lebeau put on his hat, and turned to depart. But the
Pole, who was seated near him, sprang to his feet, exclaiming, "Traitor,
thou shalt not escape! Comrades, he wants to sell us!"

"I have a right to sell you at least, for I bought you, and a very bad
bargain I made," said Lebeau, in a tone of withering sarcasm.

"Liar!" cried the Pole, and seized Lebeau by the left hand, while with
the right he drew forth a revolver. Ferrier and Grimm, shouting, "_A bas
le renegat_!" would have rushed forward in support of the Pole, but
Monnier thrust himself between them and their intended victim, crying
with a voice that dominated their yell, "Back!--we are not assassins."
Before he had finished the sentence the Pole was on his knees. With a
vigour which no one could have expected from the seeming sexagenarian,
Lebeau had caught the right arm of his assailant, twisted it back so
mercilessly as almost to dislocate elbow and shoulder joint. One barrel
of the revolver discharged itself harmlessly against the opposite wall,
and the pistol itself then fell from the unnerved hand of the would-be
assassin; and what with the pain and the sudden shock, the stalwart
Dombinsky fell in the attitude of a suppliant at the feet of his
unlooked-for vanquisher.

Lebeau released his hold, possessed himself of the pistol, pointing the
barrels towards Edgar Ferrier, who stood with mouth agape and lifted arm
arrested, and said quietly: "Monsieur, have the goodness to open that