tel de Ville. I cannot
catch a word of what he says; but as he retires he is wildly applauded.
Such applause pains me sadly. I feel that these men and these women are
mad for blood, and will know how to die. Alas! how many dead and dying
already! neither the cannonading nor the musketry has ceased an instant.
I now see a number of women walk out of the Hotel, the crowd makes room
for them to pass. They come our way. They are dressed in black, and have
black crape tied round their arms and a red cockade in their bonnets. My
friend the officer tells me that they are the governesses who have taken
the places of the nuns. Then he walks up to them and says, "Have you
succeeded?"--"Yes," answers one of them, "here is our commission. The
school children are to be employed in making sacks and filling them with
earth, the eldest ones to load the rifles behind the barricades. They
will receive rations like National Guards, and a pension will be given
to the mothers of those who die for the Republic. They are mad to fight,
I assure you. We have made them work hard during the last month, this
will be their holiday!" The woman who says this is young and pretty, and
speaks with a sweet smile on her lips. I shudder. Suddenly two staff
officers appear and ride furiously up to the Hotel de Ville; they have
come from the Place Vendome. An instant later and the trumpets sound.
The companies form in the Place, and great agitation reigns in the
Hotel. Men rush in and out. The officers who are in the cafe where I am
get up instantly, and go to take their places at the head of their men.
A rumour spreads that the Versaillais have taken the barricades on the
Place de la Concorde.--"By Jove! I think you had better go home," says
my neighbour to me, as he clasps his sword belt; "we shall have hot work
here, and that shortly." I think it prudent to follow this advice. One
glance at the Place before I go. The companies of Federals have just
started off by the Rue de Rivoli and the quays at a quick march, crying
"Vive la Commune!" a ferocious joy beaming in their faces. A young man,
almost a lad, lags a little behind, a woman rushes up to him, and lays
hold of his collar, screaming, "Well, and you, are you not going to get
yourself killed with the others?"

[Illustration: BARRICADE DIVIDING THE RUE DE RIVOLI AND THE PLACE DE LA
CONCORDE.]

I reach the Rue Vieille-du-Temple, where another barricade is being
built up. I place a paving-stone upon it