bear the same name: Representatives of the People."

The Commissary saluted them and went away.

After two hours he came back. He was accompanied this time by the Chief
of the Ushers of the Assembly, a man named Duponceau, a species of
arrogant fellow with a red face and white hair, who on grand days
strutted at the foot of the Tribune with a silvered collar, a chain over
his stomach, and a sword between his legs.

The Commissary said to Duponceau,--"Do your duty."

What the Commissary meant, and what Duponceau understood by this word
_duty_, was that the Usher should denounce the Legislators. Like the
lackey who betrays his masters.

It was done in this manner.

This Duponceau dared to look in the faces of the Representatives by
turn, and he named them one after the other to a policeman, who took
notes of them.

The Sieur Duponceau was sharply castigated while holding this review.

"M. Duponceau," said M. Vatimesnil to him, "I always thought you an
idiot, but I believed you to be an honest man."

The severest rebuke was administered by Antony Thouret. He looked Sieur
Duponceau in the face, and said to him, "You deserve to be named Dupin."

The Usher in truth was worthy of being the President, and the President
was worthy of being the Usher.

The flock having been counted, the classification having been made,
there were found to be thirteen goats: ten Representatives of the Left;
Eugene Sue, Esquires, Antony Thouret, Pascal Duprat, Chanay, Fayolle,
Paulin Durrien, Benoit, Tamisier, Tailard Laterisse, and three members
of the Right, who since the preceding day had suddenly become Red in the
eyes of the _coups d'etat_; Oudinot, Piscatory, and Thuriot de la
Rosiere.

They confined these separately, and they set at liberty one by one the
forty who remained.

CHAPTER IX.

THE LIGHTNING BEGINS TO FLASH AMONGST THE PEOPLE

The evening wore a threatening aspect.

Groups were formed on the Boulevards. As night advanced they grew larger
and became mobs, which speedily mingled together, and only formed one
crowd. An enormous crowd, reinforced and agitated by tributary currents
from the side-streets, jostling one against another, surging, stormy,
and whence ascended an ominous hum. This hubbub resolved itself into one
word, into one name which issued simultaneously from every mouth, and
which expressed the whole of the situation: "Soulouque!"[12] Throughout
that long line from the Madeleine to the Basti