None could restore the public sense of security, none could prevent the edifice from crumbling to pieces.

With ruin came crimes.

Count Horn, belonging to the family of the celebrated Count Horn, who was beheaded under Philip II., in company with Count Lamoral d'Egmont, murdered at an inn a poor jobber whom he had inveigled thither on purpose to steal his pocket-book.
In spite of all his powerful family's entreaties, Count Horn died on the wheel, together with one of his accomplices.

It was represented to the Regent that the count's house had the honor of being connected with his.
"Very, well, gentlemen," said he, "then I will share the shame with you," and he remained inflexible.
The public wrath and indignation fastened henceforth upon Law, the author and director of a system which had given rise to so many hopes, and had been the cause of so many woes.

His carriage was knocked to pieces in the streets.