Those who are marking time around the obscure fanatic are growling, "He's not only bad, he's mad, the dirty beast!" "It's disgraceful," says the young curate.
Brisbille goes up to him.

"_You_ tell me, then, _you_, what'll happen very soon--Jesuit, puppet, land-shark! We know you, you and your filthy, poisonous trade!" "_Say that again_!" It was I who said that.

Leaving Marie's arm instinctively I sprang forward and planted myself before the sinister person.

After the horrified murmur which followed the insult, a great silence had fallen on the scene.
Astounded, and his face suddenly filling with fear, Brisbille stumbles and beats a retreat.
The crowd regains confidence, and laughs, and congratulates me, and reviles the back of the man who is sinking in the stream.
"You were fine!" Marie said to me when I took her arm again, slightly trembling.
I returned home elated by my energetic act, still all of a tremor, proud and happy.

I have obeyed the prompting of my blood.