“But what do they want?” he asked the superintendent of police.

“Your excellency, they say they have got ready, according to your orders, to go against the French, and they shouted something about treachery. But it is a turbulent crowd, your excellency⁠—I hardly managed to get away from it. Your excellency, I venture to suggest⁠ ⁠…”

“You may go. I don’t need you to tell me what to do!” exclaimed Rostopchín angrily.

He stood by the balcony door looking at the crowd.