Chapeau returned to the house, but he did not go back to M. de Lescure.  He went upstairs to his master, and found him alone with his sister, and explained to them what was going on before the front-door.

“They will never go away, Mademoiselle, as long as the breath is in the man’s body.  They are angry now, and they care for no one, not even for M. Henri himself; and it’s no wonder for them to be angry.  He that was so trusted, and so loved; one of the family as much as yourself, M. Henri.  Why, if I were to turn traitor, and go over to the republicans, it could hardly be worse.  If ever I did, I should expect them to pinch me to pieces with hot tweezers, let alone hanging.”

“I will go down to them,” said M. Henri.

“It will be no use,” said Chapeau, “they will not listen to you.”

“I will try them at any rate, for they have never yet disobeyed me.  I know they love me, and I will ask for Adolphe’s life as a favour to myself:  if they persist in their cruelty, if they do kill him, I will lay down my sword, and never again raise it in La Vendee.”

“If it were put off for a week, or a day, M. Henri, so that they could get cool; if you could just consent to his being hung, but say that he was to have four-and-twenty hours to prepare himself, and then at the end of that time they wouldn’t care about it:  mightn’t that do?  Wouldn’t that be the best plan, Mademoiselle?”

“No,” said Henri.  “I will not stoop to tell them a falsehood; nor if I did so, would they ever believe me again.”  And he walked towards the passage, intending to go down to the front-door.

“Stop, Henri, stop a moment!” said Agatha, “I will go down to them.  I will speak to them.  They are not accustomed to hear me speak to them in numbers, as they are to you, and that of itself will make them inclined to listen to me.  I will beg them to spare the unfortunate man, and I think they will not refuse me.”

She got up and walked to the door, and her brother did not attempt to stop her.

“Let me go alone, Henri,” said she.  “You may, at any rate, be sure that they will not hurt me.”  And, without waiting for his reply, she descended the stairs, and walked into the hall.  When Chapeau left them, the crowd were collected immediately in the front of the house and on the steps, but none of them had yet forced their way into the chateau; since he had gone upstairs, however, they had pushed open the door, and now filled the hall; although their accustomed respect for the persons and property of those above them, had still kept them from breaking into the room, in which they knew were M. de Lescure and Adolphe Denot.  The foremost of them drew back when they saw Agatha come among them, and as she made her way to the front-door, they retreated before her, till she found herself standing on the top of the steps, and surrounded by what seemed to her a countless crowd of heads.  There was a buzz of many voices among them, and she stood there silent before them a moment or two, till there should be such silence as would enable them to hear her.