These remarks, which were addressed in the midst of a frightful din and
turmoil to those immediately about him, were received with great favour;
not so much, perhaps, because of the hangman's eloquence, as on account
of the locksmith's obstinacy. Gabriel was in imminent peril, and he knew
it; but he preserved a steady silence; and would have done so, if they
had been debating whether they should roast him at a slow fire.
As the hangman spoke, there was some stir and confusion on the ladder;
and directly he was silent--so immediately upon his holding his peace,
that the crowd below had no time to learn what he had been saying, or to
shout in response--some one at the window cried:
'He has a grey head. He is an old man: Don't hurt him!'
The locksmith turned, with a start, towards the place from which the
words had come, and looked hurriedly at the people who were hanging on
the ladder and clinging to each other.
'Pay no respect to my grey hair, young man,' he said, answering the
voice and not any one he saw. 'I don't ask it. My heart is green enough
to scorn and despise every man among you, band of robbers that you are!'
This incautious speech by no means tended to appease the ferocity of the
crowd.
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