And now a gust of passion, and now a shudder of fear,
seized him; and in any other assembly his agitation must have led to
detection. But in that room were many twitching faces and trembling
hands. Murder, cruel, midnight, and most foul, wrung even from the
murderers her toll of horror. While some, to hide the nervousness they
felt, babbled of what they would do, others betrayed by the intentness
with which they awaited the signal, the dreadful anticipations that
possessed their souls.
Before he had formed any plan, a movement took place near the door. The
stairs shook beneath the sudden trampling of feet, a voice cried "De par
le Roi! De par le Roi!" and the babel of the room died down. The throng
swayed and fell back on either hand, and Marshal Tavannes entered,
wearing half armour, with a white sash; he was followed by six or eight
gentlemen in like guise. Amid cries of "Jarnac! Jarnac!"--for to him
the credit of that famous fight, nominally won by the King's brother, was
popularly given--he advanced up the room, met the Provost of the
merchants, and began to confer with him. Apparently he asked the latter
to select some men who could be trusted on a special mission, for the
Provost looked round and beckoned to his side one or two of higher rank
than the herd, and then one or two of the most truculent aspect.
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