Darting aside I let him pass
--he was blinded and could not see me--and then found that
Croisette--brave lad! had collared the foremost of the ruffians,
and was beating him with his sheathed sword, while the rest of
the rabble stood back, ashamed, yet sullen, and with anger in
their eyes. A dangerous crew, I thought; not townsmen, most of
them.
"Down with the Huguenots!" cried one, as I appeared, one bolder
than the rest.
"Down with the CANAILLE!" I retorted, sternly eyeing the ill-
looking ring. "Will you set yourselves above the king's peace,
dirt that you are? Go back to your kennels!"
The words were scarcely out of my mouth, before I saw that the
fellow whom Croisette was punishing had got hold of a dagger. I
shouted a warning, but it came too late. The blade fell, and--
thanks to God--striking the buckle of the lad's belt, glanced off
harmless. I saw the steel flash up again--saw the spite in the
man's eyes: but this time I was a step nearer, and before the
weapon fell, I passed my sword clean through the wretch's body.
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