The noise of our arrival was quickly spread abroad, and the inhabitants flocked to have a view of the assassins of the butcher, whose story had excited so much commiseration. I was equally an object of curiosity to them, and was pleased with the present opportunity of learning the opinion entertained of me at the distance of six leagues from Paris. I hastened to mingle in the crowd assembled before the prison gates, from whence I could easily overhear the most amusing observations: "There he is, that is he," exclaimed the spectators, raising themselves on tip toe every time the wicket opened to allow ingress or egress to any of my agents.
"Look look, do you see him?" said one of them, "that little hop o' my thumb there, scarcely five feet high."
"Stuff! a shrimp like that! I could put fifty such in my pocket."
"Shrimp as you call him, he is more than a match for you; he is a first-rate boxer, and has a sort of a back throw that would astonish you."
"All fudge, I dare say; do you suppose he is the only one that knows a good thing?"
"No no!" bawled out a second spectator, "this is he, this tall slender fellow with the red hair."
"What a lath!" cried out the next bystander, "why with one hand in my pocket I could double him in two."
"You could?"
"Yes, I could!"
