Cries, murmurs, and songs went up to the impassive sky.

"It is Chatillon we want!" "Down with the Deputies!" "Down with the Republicans!" "Death to the Republicans!" The devoted band of Dracophils, led by Prince des Boscenos, struck up the august canticle: Vive Crucho, Vaillant et sage, Plein de courage Des le berceau! Behind the wall silence alone replied.
This silence and the absence of guards encouraged and at the same time frightened the crowd.

Suddenly a formidable voice cried out: "Attack!" And Prince des Boscenos was seen raising his gigantic form to the top of the wall, which was covered with barbs and iron spikes.

Behind him rushed his companions, and the people followed.

Some hammered against the wall to make holes in it; others endeavoured to tear down the spikes and to pull out the barbs.