They fell into line and the little procession started. From the Conciergerie to the Place de la Révolution the cart was followed by a hooting, jelling crowd of men, women and children, who sang coarse songs and hurled insults in the faces of their victims. These last seemed insensible to the indignities heaped upon them. On one side of the cart an aged man and a youth were seated side by side.

He was not yet consciously suffering; nor was he thinking at all. True, he had a dim, persistent impulse to action or why should he be at the station? but for the clearest expression of his condition it is necessary to borrow a culinary symbol; he was jelling. But the state of shock was slowly dispersing, while a perception of approaching anguish as slowly increased.

Resting on his hill in the Valium of nature, it was as if he were coming down from all this spinning around in his own head because of a heaviness of words coalescing and jelling onto the walls of his brain.

Every officer of the law, both civil and military, had been chased and beaten and disappeared. Half the block was in flames before the firemen could break through and reach the burning buildings. Down the Avenue, the maddened mob swept with resistless impulse, jelling, cursing, shouting its defiance. "Down with the Abolitionists!" "Hang Horace Greeley on a sour apple tree!"