e Foy made a complete
_volte-face_, raised its ices to twenty sous and grew Royalist in
tone. Its frequenters came armed with sword-sticks and loaded canes,
raised their hats when the king's name was uttered, and one evil day
planted a gallows outside the cafe, painted with the national
colours. The excited patriots stormed the house, expelled the
Royalists and disinfected the salon with gin. Next day the Royalists
returned in force and cleansed the air with incense: after many
fatalities the cafe was closed for some days and the triumph of the
Jacobins at length made any suspicion of Royalism too perilous. During
the occupation of Paris by the allies many a fatal duel between the
foreign officers and the Imperialists was initiated there.

The extremer section of the Revolutionists frequented the Cafe
Corazza, still extant on this side of the garden, which soon became a
minor Jacobin's, where, after the club was closed, the excited orators
continued their discussions: Chabot, Collot d'Herbois and other
Terrorists met there. The Cafe Valois was patronised by the
Feuillants, and so excited the ire of the Federes, who met at the
Caveau, that one day they issued forth, assailed their opponents'
stronghold and burned the copies of the _Journal de Paris_ found
there.

In the earlier days of the Revolution when its leaders looked for
sympathy to England, "a brave and generous nation, whose name alone
like that of Rome evokes ideas of Liberty," the people during an
exhibition of anti-monarchical feeling went about destroying the
insignia of royalty. On coming in the Palais Royal to the sign of the
English king's head over a restaurant, an orator mounted a chair in
the gardens, and informed them that it was the head of a good king,
ruling over a free nation: it was spared, amid shouts of "_Vive la
Liberte_." Later, at the Cafe des Milles Colonnes, the handsome Madame
Romain, _La Belle Limonadiere_, sat majestically on a real throne used
by a king whom Napoleon had overthrown.

We leave the gardens by the issue in the middle of the N. colonnade,
mount the steps and at the corner of the Rue Vivienne and the Rue des
Petits Champs opposite, come upon the Palais Mazarin (p. 222), now the
Bibliotheque Nationale, with a fine facade on each street. In the Rue
Vivienne stood also the princely Hotel Colbert, of which only the name
remains--the Passage Colbert. We turn W. along the Rue des Petits
Champs and skirt the W. walls of the mo