u-Vieux; to none of which will Chateau-Vieux listen: whereupon
finally he, amid noise enough, emits order that Chateau-Vieux shall
march on the morrow morning, and quarter at Sarre Louis. Chateau-Vieux
flatly refuses marching; M. de Malseigne 'takes act,' due notarial
protest, of such refusal,--if happily that may avail him.

This is end of Thursday; and, indeed, of M. de Malseigne's
Inspectorship, which has lasted some fifty hours. To such length,
in fifty hours, has he unfortunately brought it. Mestre-de-Camp and
Regiment du Roi hang, as it were, fluttering: Chateau-Vieux is clean
gone, in what way we see. Over night, an Aide-de-Camp of Lafayette's,
stationed here for such emergency, sends swift emissaries far and wide,
to summon National Guards. The slumber of the country is broken
by clattering hoofs, by loud fraternal knockings; every where the
Constitutional Patriot must clutch his fighting-gear, and take the road
for Nanci.

And thus the Herculean Inspector has sat all Thursday, among
terror-struck Municipals, a centre of confused noise: all Thursday,
Friday, and till Saturday towards noon. Chateau-Vieux, in spite of
the notarial protest, will not march a step. As many as four thousand
National Guards are dropping or pouring in; uncertain what is expected
of them, still more uncertain what will be obtained of them. For all is
uncertainty, commotion, and suspicion: there goes a word that Bouille,
beginning to bestir himself in the rural Cantonments eastward, is but a
Royalist traitor; that Chateau-Vieux and Patriotism are sold to Austria,
of which latter M. de Malseigne is probably some agent. Mestre-de-Camp
and Roi flutter still more questionably: Chateau-Vieux, far from
marching, 'waves red flags out of two carriages,' in a passionate
manner, along the streets; and next morning answers its Officers: "Pay
us, then; and we will march with you to the world's end!"

Under which circumstances, towards noon on Saturday, M. de Malseigne
thinks it were good perhaps to inspect the ramparts,--on horseback. He
mounts, accordingly, with escort of three troopers. At the gate of the
city, he bids two of them wait for his return; and with the third, a
trooper to be depended upon, he--gallops off for Luneville; where lies
a certain Carabineer Regiment not yet in a mutinous state! The two
left troopers soon get uneasy; discover how it is, and give the alarm.
Mestre-de-Camp, to the number of a hundred, saddles in frantic haste,