Part 28 (1/2)

”Messieurs!” cried M. Dantes, ”this last step of the Government was all that we required to insure our success. Thiers and Barrot mistake if they think there is sufficient magic in their names to quell a revolution. In fact, neither of them are trusted by the people. It is too late! Yesterday this might have been done; but now the demand is not reform, but a republic--not 'down with the Ministry,' but 'down with the dynasty!'”

The conspirators looked at each other and then at M. Dantes in amazement and doubt. It was apparent they were as yet unprepared for language so plain.

”M. Dantes is right!” cried Flocon. ”To-morrow night when we meet we shall all admit it!”

It was now nearly three o'clock, and the Republicans repaired to their homes for a few hours' sleep before the exciting scenes antic.i.p.ated for the morrow.

As Louis Blanc and M. Albert pa.s.sed up the Rue Lepelletier, and came opposite the Hotel of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, which, but a few hours before, had been the scene of so much confusion and bloodshed, they paused and looked around. The pavement was still dark and wet with the gore of the slaughtered citizens, but the whole street was deserted and silent. Here and there a solitary light might be detected in the attic windows of the immense hotel; but no other sign of life or human occupation was to be perceived. True, there was an ominous sound of rising barricades in the Boulevard beyond--the crash of trees, the click of steel on stone, the lumbering of wheels--and, at intervals, a distant shout. But this excepted, all was as quiet in Paris as if the old city had never known of insurrection.

”This spot will be noted in the future history of France,” said Louis Blanc. ”Do you know the exact facts of the case, M. Albert? There are so many rumors that we can with difficulty get near the truth.”

”I was not present when the 14th delivered their fire,” was the reply, ”but I learned from M. de Courtais, who hastened to the spot, that the colonel of the regiment, now in prison, a.s.serts that, at the moment of the arrival of the crowd, a ball from a musket which accidentally went off, broke the leg of his horse, and he, thinking this the signal for an attack, at once gave orders to fire. Another story is that one of our young blouses blew out an officer's brains with a pistol.”

”Many of the troops must have fired in the air,” said Louis Blanc, looking around him, ”for there were two hundred of them in line, I understand, and their discharge was delivered across the whole breadth of the Boulevard swarming with people.”

”It was unfortunate for M. Guizot,” rejoined M. Albert, with a sardonic smile, ”that his hotel should have witnessed such a scene.”

”But fortunate for the cause, nevertheless,” replied Louis Blanc. ”This last movement is called the movement of the journalists, I understand.”

”If suspicions are always as correct,” said M. Albert, ”there will be fewer false ones, I fancy.”

Louis Blanc made no reply, and the friends walked on up the Boulevard, reconnoitering every spot.

At the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre they were stopped by a barricade, which was rapidly rising under the united and vigorous exertions of several hundred men. Steadily, sternly and silently, all that night they toiled, and when the barricade was completed the tri-color flag was planted on its summit, and a citizen-soldier stood beside its staff to defend it. On the other side of the Boulevard, in the Rue Montmartre, rose another barricade entirely finished.

”These men are resolved,” said Louis Blanc.

”Desperate, rather,” replied Albert. ”They have counted the cost and prepared to go on with the attempt they have begun at all hazards. It is better to fight than starve, they think.”

”But do you observe how few of them are armed?” asked Louis Blanc.

”We have provided for that deficiency. You will see arms enough for all to-morrow,” replied Albert. ”Barricades first, arms afterwards!”

And, indeed, while he was yet speaking, a tumbrel loaded with arms of every description drove silently up, and each man supplied himself with a weapon that suited his fancy. In some instances the taste exhibited was ludicrous in the extreme; there were swords without scabbards and bayonets without guns--a towering helmet on the head of one man, and broad white leather cross-belts on the shoulders of another--daggers and knives, sabres and pikes mingled in grotesque confusion. But each individual was armed with something, and, to crown all, a small piece of ordnance, borne on the shoulders of four stout men, who staggered beneath its weight, was now brought up and placed in battery.

”From such men what may we not hope!” exclaimed Louis Blanc. ”But it is near morning; let us proceed.”

”I stop here,” quietly said Albert.

”What! Pa.s.s the night here?” exclaimed his companion.

”The night is nearly pa.s.sed now,” replied Albert, with a smile. ”I will sleep a few hours with my men of the barricades, and be ready to help them defend their work in the morning.”

”You are devoted to the cause, Albert,” said Louis Blanc, warmly grasping his hand.

”Oh! no more than yourself,” was the reply. ”We are all devoted to it, but each in his own way. You are an author, I am a workman. It is a light thing for me to pa.s.s a night with only the sky for a canopy. It is a light thing for you to pa.s.s a night in your study. A change of positions would possibly kill us both!”

The friends grasped each other warmly by the hand and parted, the author going to his study and the workman to his barricade.