Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

A tall man in a nightcap had caught up a bundle from among

the feet of the horses, and had laid it on the basement of the

fountain, and was down in the mud and wet, howling over it like a

wild animal.

“Pardon, Monsieur the Marquis!” said a ragged and submissive

man, “it is a child.”

“Why does he make that abominable noise? Is it his child?”

“Excuse me, Monsieur the Marquisit is a pityyes.”

The fountain was a little removed; for the street opened, where

it was, into a space some ten or twelve yards square. As the tall

man suddenly got up from the ground, and came running at the

carriage, Monsieur the Marquis clapped his hand for an instant on

his sword-hilt.

“Killed!” shrieked the man, in wild desperation, extending both

arms at their length above his head, and staring at him. “Dead!”

The people closed round, and looked at Monsieur the Marquis.

There was nothing revealed by the many eyes that looked at him

but watchfulness and eagerness; there was no visible menacing or

anger. Neither did the people say anything; after the first cry, they

had been silent, and they remained so. The voice of the submissive

man who had spoken, was flat and tame in its extreme submission.

Monsieur the Marquis ran his eyes over them all, as if they had

been mere rats come out of their holes.

He t