do the same in our place."

That morning--it was a Wednesday--he was particularly careful about his
toilet. His wife combed his hair and tied his cravat, turning him about
like a child going to a distribution of prizes. And when he was ready,
she examined him, declared that he looked very nice, and that he would
make a very good figure in the midst of the serious events that were
preparing. His big pale face wore an expression of grave dignity and
heroic determination. She accompanied him to the first landing, giving
him her last advice: he was not to depart in any way from his courageous
demeanour, however great the panic might be; he was to have the gates
closed more hermetically than ever, and leave the town in agonies of
terror within its ramparts; it would be all the better if he were to
appear the only one willing to die for the cause of order.

What a day it was! The Rougons still speak of it as of a glorious and
decisive battle. Pierre went straight to the town-hall, heedless of the
looks or words that greeted him on his way. He installed himself there
in magisterial fashion, like a man who did not intend to quit the place,
whatever might happen. And he simply sent a note to Roudier, to advise
him that he was resuming authority.

"Keep watch at the gates," he added, knowing that these lines might
become public: "I myself will watch over the town and ensure the
security of life and property. It is at the moment when evil passions
reappear and threaten to prevail that good citizens should endeavour to
stifle them, even at the peril of their lives." The style, and the very
errors in spelling, made this note--the brevity of which suggested the
laconic style of the ancients--appear all the more heroic. Not one of
the gentlemen of the Provisional Commission put in an appearance. The
last two who had hitherto remained faithful, and Granoux himself,
even, prudently stopped at home. Thus Rougon was the only member of the
Commission who remained at his post, in his presidential arm-chair, all
the others having vanished as the panic increased. He did not even
deign to issue an order summoning them to attend. He was there, and that
sufficed, a sublime spectacle, which a local journal depicted later on
in a sentence: "Courage giving the hand to duty."

During the whole morning Pierre was seen animating the town-hall with
his goings and comings. He was absolutely alone in the large, empty
building, whose lofty halls reech