eventy-six projectiles,
and he owed his life only to the fact that the panels were all lined
with iron.

A hundred and fifty-six persons were killed and wounded by the three
bombs; the pavement, the sidewalks, and the front of the Opera-house
were pitted with holes and splashed with blood. All the issues of the
Rue Le Peletier were closed almost immediately after the explosions, and
a prompt descent was made on the restaurant and little garden,
immediately opposite the Opera-house, which was kept by an Italian named
Broggi. Here those of his companions who were at odds with fortune were
in the habit of assembling, and here a waiter named Diot found on a
table a pistol and beside it a man who was ostentatiously weeping. When
questioned, he gave his name as Swiney, declared he was the servant of
an Englishman named Allsop, a brewer, who lived at No. 10, Rue du
Mont-Thabor, and that he wept because he feared his master had been
killed. The real name of Swiney was Gomez, and that of his master,
Allsop, was Orsini; the latter, who had been wounded by his own bomb,
was arrested as he was walking peacefully away. He had the assurance to
write a long letter to the Emperor from Mazas prison, after his trial,
in which, while making no appeal for his own life, he interceded for the
independence of Italy, without which, he asserted, "the tranquillity of
Europe and that of your Majesty will be but chimeras." He admitted
having brought the bombs from England and charged them with fulminating
powder, but denied having thrown any of them; he was guillotined on the
13th of March, with his accomplice, Pieri,--Orsini crying with his last
breath: "_Vive l'Italie! Vive la France!_" Gomez was condemned to hard
labor for life.

[Illustration: TYPE OF BOURGEOISE. From a drawing by L. Marold.]

"In 1867," says a historian, "France believed herself invincible. The
capital of capitals surpassed the splendors of all other cities, ancient
and modern. It was a bedazzlement, a fairy spectacle. But a time was
approaching when a bloody and funereal vail was to be suddenly thrown
over so many more than Babylonian magnificences, and in which the great
city, so proud of her riches and her glory, was to have no other
ceremonial than the overthrow of the Vendome column by French hands in
the face of the Prussians."

By the 18th of September, 1870, the siege of Paris by the Germans was
formally opened, and yet, on that date, the author of the _Journal du