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"I," said another, in an under tone, to one of his companions, "I

am going away. I am a man of the world, and I know how these

things go. These clowns, who now make so much noise, will prove

themselves cowards to-morrow. I have already perceived some among

the crowd who are taking note of those who are present, and when

all is over, they will make up the account, and the guilty will

pay the penalty."

"He who protects the bakers," cried a sonorous voice, which

attracted the attention of Renzo, "is the superintendent of

provisions."

"They are all rogues," said a neighbour.

"Yes, but he is the chief," replied the one who had first spoken.