Count Hannibal

"Who comes next?" he cried in a tone of mockery. "I have more pistols!"

And then with a sudden change to ferocity, "You dogs!" he went on. "You

scum of a filthy city, sweepings of the Halles! Do you think to beard

me? Do you think to frighten me or murder me? I am Tavannes, and this

is my house, and were there a score of Huguenots in it, you should not

touch one, nor harm a hair of his head! Begone, I say again, while you

may! Seek women and children, and kill them. But not here!"

For an instant the mingled scorn and brutality of his words silenced

them. Then from the rear of the crowd came an answer--the roar of an

arquebuse. The ball whizzed past Count Hannibal's head, and, splashing

the plaster from the wall within a pace of Tignonville, dropped to the

ground.

Tavannes laughed. "Bungler!" he cried. "Were you in my troop I would

dip your trigger-finger in boiling oil to teach you to shoot! But you

weary me, dogs. I must teach you a lesson, must I?" And he lifted a

pistol and levelled it. The crowd did not know whether it was the one he

had discharged or another, but they gave back with a sharp gasp. "I must

teach you, must I?" he continued with scorn. "Here, Bigot, Badelon,

drive me these blusterers! Rid the street of them! A Tavannes! A

Tavannes!"

Not by word or look had he before this betrayed that he had supports. But

as he cried the name, a dozen men armed to the teeth, who had stood

motionless under the Croix du Tiroir, fell in a line on the right flank

of the crowd. The surprise for those nearest them was complete. With

the flash of the pikes before their eyes, with the cold steel in fancy

between their ribs, they fled every way, uncertain how many pursued, or

if any pursuit there was. For a moment the mob, which a few minutes

before had seemed so formidable that a regiment might have quailed before

it, bade fair to be routed by a dozen pikes.

And so, had all in the crowd been what he termed them, the rabble and

sweepings of the streets, it would have been. But in the heart of it,

and felt rather than seen, were a handful of another kidney; Sorbonne

students and fierce-eyed priests, with three or four mounted archers, the

nucleus that, moving through the streets, had drawn together this

concourse. And these with threats and curse and gleaming eyes stood

fast, even Tavannes' dare-devils recoiling before the tonsure. The check

thus caused allowed those who had budged a breathing space. They rallied

behind the black robes, and began to stone the pikes; who in their turn

withdrew until they formed two groups, standing on their defence, the one

before the window, the other before the door.