He read it, turned pale, and sent for the doctor. "The
Central Committee," he said, "orders me to blow up this building
immediately." "But my wounded?" cried the doctor. There were one
hundred and seven wounded soldiers of the Commune in the hospital.
There was no place to which they could be moved, and no means of
transportation. Colonel Brunel sent an orderly to represent the
case to the Committee. All he could obtain was a detail of National
Guards to assist in carrying away the wounded, together with a
positive order to burn down the building. As the sick men were
being very slowly carried out, a party arrived, commanded by a
drunken officer, and carrying buckets of coal-oil and other
combustibles, which they scattered about the rooms. By this time
the fires of the Versaillais gleamed through the trees in the Champs
Elysees. The Rue Royale, near at hand, was in flames. Across the
Seine, the Rue de Lille was burning. The Ministry of Finance and
the palace of the Tuileries seemed a sea of flame. In the Ministry
of Marine were two clerks, long attached to that branch of the
Government service, who had been requested by Admiral Pothereau,
the Minister for Naval Affairs, to remain at their post and endeavor
to protect the papers and property. Their names were Gablin and Le
Sage. M. Le Sage had his wife with him in the building. These men
resolved to save the Ministry, or perish. While Le Sage, who was
expert in gymnastics, set out to see if he could reach the general
in command of the Versaillais, Gablin turned all his energies to
prevent the impending conflagration. Putting on an air of haste and
terror, he rushed into the room where the soldiers were refreshing
themselves, and cried out lustily that the Versaillais were upon them,
but that if they followed him, he would save them. Under pretence
of showing them a secret passage, he led them into a chamber and
locked the door. Then he turned his attention to their commander.
He represented to him that the Versaillais were close at hand, and
promised him safety and a handsome reward if he would not set fire
to the building. "But I have my orders!" objected the half-tipsy
officer. "I have the order you had better obey," replied Gablin,
pointing a pistol at his head. "Now, shall I fire, or shall I reward
you?" The officer gave in. He helped M. Gablin to pour the buckets
of coal-oil into the gutters in the courtyard, to clear away the
powder, and to drench the floors with w