into the cutting of the
Porte St. Martin a regiment of heavy cavalry arrived in the opposite
direction. In a few seconds this regiment passed by the side of us. They
were cuirassiers. They filed by at a sharp trot and with drawn swords.
The people leaned over from the height of the pavements to see them pass.
Not a single cry. On the one side the people dejected, on the other the
soldiers triumphant. All this stirred me.

Suddenly the regiment halted. I do not know what obstruction momentarily
impeded its advance in this narrow cutting of the Boulevard in which we
were hemmed in. By its halt it stopped the omnibus. There were the
soldiers. We had them under our eyes, before us, at two paces distance,
their horses touching the horses of our vehicle, these Frenchmen who had
become Mamelukes, these citizen soldiers of the Great Republic
transformed into supporters of the degraded Empire. From the place where
I sat I almost touched them; I could no longer restrain myself.

I lowered the window of the omnibus. I put out my head, and, looking
fixedly at the dense line of soldiers which faced me, I called out, "Down
with Louis Bonaparte. Those who serve traitors are traitors!"

Those nearest to me turned their heads towards me and looked at me with a
tipsy air; the others did not stir, and remained at "shoulder arms," the
peaks of their helmets over their eyes, their eyes fixed upon the ears of
their horses.

In great affairs there is the immobility of statues; in petty mean
affairs there is the immobility of puppets.

At the shout which I raised Arnauld turned sharply round. He also had
lowered his window, and he was leaning half out of the omnibus, with his
arms extended towards the soldiers, and he shouted, "Down with the
traitors!"

To see him thus with his dauntless gesture, his handsome head, pale and
calm, his fervent expression, his beard and his long chestnut hair, one
seemed to behold the radiant and fulminating face of an angry Christ.

The example was contagious and electrical.

"Down with the traitors!" shouted Carini and Montanelli.

"Down with the Dictator! Down with the traitors!" repeated a gallant
young man with whom we were not acquainted, and who was sitting next to
Carini.

With the exception of this young man, the whole omnibus seemed seized
with terror!

"Hold your tongues!" exclaimed these poor frightened people; "you will
cause us all to be massacred." One, still more terrified, lowered t