The ignorant people clamour against my life--_canaille_! I regard them not.

But nevertheless their foolish prejudices reach other ears.
Hearken!" And like a showman he beckoned Sybilla to the window.

A low roar of human voices, fitful yet sustained, made itself distinctly audible above the shriller hooting of the tempest.
"Open the window!" he commanded, standing behind the curtain.
The girl unhasped the brazen hook and looked out.

Beneath her a little crowd of poor people had collected about a woman who was beating with bleeding hands upon the shut door of the Hotel de Pornic.
"Justice! justice!" cried the woman, her hands clasped and her long black hair streaming down her shoulders, "give me my child, my little Pierre.

Yester-eve he was enticed into the monster's den by his servant Poitou, and I shall never see him more! Give me my boy, murderer! Restore me my son!" And the answering roar of the people's voices rose through the open window to the ears of the marshal.