Cold as the afternoon was, the press of people was tremendous, and
besides the numbers bent on amusement, throngs of men stood about under
the wind-swept arcades, talking excitedly, some with frightened, furtive
face and air, others boldly and recklessly.
As they passed along, Calvert noted with surprise that Beaufort seemed
to have but few acquaintances among the crowds of gesticulating, excited
men, and that the look of disquiet upon his face was intensifying each
moment. When they reached the Cafe de l'Ecole, the storm burst.
"'Tis an infernal shame," he said, angrily, sinking into a chair at a
small table, and pointing Calvert to the one opposite him, "'tis an
infernal shame that this pleasure palace should be made the hotbed of
political intrigue; that these brawling, demented demagogues should be
allowed to rant and rave here to an excited mob; that these disloyal,
seditious pamphlets should be distributed and read and discussed beneath
the windows of the King's own cousin! The King must be mad to permit
this folly, which increases daily. Where will it end?" He looked at
Calvert and clapped his hands together.
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