he order I had just written, for it could not be found. They
surrounded me, saying that I had not written it at all, and I was on
the point of being trampled underfoot, when a militiaman found it all
crumpled up in his pocket. The threats grew louder, and once more it was
because I did not carry the flag high enough, everyone insisting that I
was quite tall enough to display it to better advantage.

"However, at this point the militiamen with the red tufts made their
appearance, a few armed with muskets but the greater number with swords;
shots were exchanged, and the soldiers of the line and the National
Guard arranged themselves in battle order, in a kind of recess, and
desired me to go forward alone, which I refused to do, because I should
have been between two fires.

"Upon this, curses, threats, and blows reached their height. I was
dragged out before the troops and struck with the butt ends of their
muskets and the flat of their swords until I advanced. One blow that I
received between the shoulders filled my mouth with blood.

"All this time those of the opposite party were coming nearer, and those
with whom I was continued to yell at me to go on. I went on until I met
them. I besought them to retire, even throwing myself at their feet.
But all persuasion was in vain; they swept me along with them, making
me enter by the Carmelite Gate, where they took the flag from me and
allowed me to enter the house of a woman whose name I have never known.
I was spitting such a quantity of blood that she took pity on me and
brought me everything she could think of as likely to do me good, and
as soon as I was a little revived I asked to be shown the way to M.
Ponthier's."

While Abbe de Belmont was carrying the red flag the militia forced the
Town Councillors to proclaim martial law. This had just been done when
word was brought that the first red flag had been carried off, so M.
Ferrand de Missol got out another, and, followed by a considerable
escort, took the same road as his colleague, Abbe de Belmont. When he
arrived at the Calquieres, the red-tufts, who still adorned the ramparts
and towers, began to fire upon the procession, and one of the militia
was disabled; the escort retreated, but M. Ferrand advanced alone to
the Carmelite Gate, like M. de Belmont, and like him, he too, was taken
prisoner.

He was brought to the tower, where he found Froment in a fury, declaring
that the Council had not kept its promise, hav