as if he were catching a bale of rice or a sack of cereal in full flight. Then he put Laurent quietly upon his feet with an oath of approval. The young fellow, feeling the earth once more beneath his feet, began to wave his flag over the heads of the crowd. A burst of stormy cheers broke out and continued. The police tried to take Laurent by the collar. Hundreds of hands, following Vingerhout's fist, freed him, threw the policemen into disorder, and reduced them to impotence.
The young fellows took the head of a huge column that began moving after having sent three volleys of cat-calls toward the dismantled balcony, singing the "Hymne des Gueux," composed by Vyveloy, and a Flemish refrain improvised in honor of their leader.
From a distance came the song of the other party. Where could such a challenge come from? An electric tremor ran through the whole line.
"Down with them!" And the crowd rushed wildly across the Place de Meir.
At the corner of this square, where it becomes narrowest, the Gueux fell upon a crew of young revellers with blue cockades, with a band and torches. With a frightful clamor they threw themselves upon their provokers. In an instant the torches had been torn from their hands, a hole had been kicked in the drum, the whole crew had been thoroughly trounced and trampled upon without having made the slightest resistance.
And by the time that the middle and the tail of the line had come up to the place where the scuffle had taken place, the fugitives were already far away.
The Gueux, however, had heard that the rich people,
