their names other than they bore. One, a very swarthy and ill-favoured
man, between forty and fifty, I call Paul Grimm--by origin a German, but
by rearing and character French; from the hair on his head, staring up
rough and ragged as a bramblebush, to the soles of small narrow feet,
shod with dainty care, he was a personal coxcomb, and spent all he
could spare on his dress. A clever man, not ill-educated--a vehement and
effective speaker at a club. Vanity and an amorous temperament had made
him a conspirator, since he fancied he interested the ladies more in
that capacity than any other. His companion, Edgar Ferrier, would have
been a journalist, only hitherto his opinions had found no readers; the
opinions were those of Marat. He rejoiced in thinking that his hour for
glory, so long deferred, had now arrived. He was thoroughly sincere:
his father and grandfather had died in a madhouse. Both these men,
insignificant in ordinary times, were likely to become of terrible
importance in the crisis of a revolution. They both had great power with
the elements that form a Parisian mob. The instructions given to these
members of the Council by Lebeau were brief: they were summed up in the
one word, Decheance. The formidable nature of a council apparently so
meanly constituted became strikingly evident at that moment, because it
was so small in number, while each one of these could put in movement a
large section of the populace; secondly, because, unlike a revolutionary
club or a numerous association, no time was wasted in idle speeches, and
all were under the orders of one man of clear head and resolute purpose;
and thirdly, and above all, because one man supplied the treasury, and
money for an object desired was liberally given and promptly at hand.
The meeting did not last ten minutes, and about two hours afterwards
its effects were visible. From Montmartre and Belleville and Montretout
poured streams of ouvriers, with whom Armand Monnier was a chief,
and the Medecin des Pauvres an oracle. Grimm and Ferrier headed other
detachments that startled the well-dressed idlers on the Boulevards.
The stalwart figure of the Pole was seen on the Place de la Concorde,
towering amidst other refugees, amid which glided the Italian champion
of humanity. The cry of Decheance became louder. But as yet there were
only few cries of Vive la Republique!--such a cry was not on the orders
issued by Lebeau. At midnight the crowd round the hall of the