muskets, which they have placed in a
corner for convenience' sake, they find that a good many have
disappeared. The customers belonging to the sovereign people have slunk
off with them. Nevertheless they join the ranks, for the bugle has
sounded. At the corner of the Faubourg Saint-Martin, whence the noise
proceeded, they are met by three or four score of the sovereign people,
ragged, unkempt, who are pushing in front of them two of the students of
the Ecole Polytechnique. The two young fellows are very pale, and can
scarcely speak. Still they manage to explain that the Municipal Guard at
the Saint-Martin barracks have fired upon the people; then they go their
way. Whither? Heaven only knows. But our captain, in the most stentorian
of voices, gives the word of command, "To the right, wheel!" and we are
striding up the faubourg, which is absolutely deserted as far as the Rue
des Marais. A collision seems pretty inevitable now, the more that the
Municipal Guards are already taking aim, when all at once our captain
and one of the lieutenants rush forward, and fling themselves into the
arms of the officers of the Municipal Guards. Tableau; and I am baulked
once more of a good fight. I leave my friend to see the rest of this
ridiculous comedy, and take my departure there and then.

The following is my companion's account of what happened after I left. I
am as certain that every word of it is true as if I had been there
myself, though it seems almost incredible that French officers, whose
worst enemies have never accused them of being deficient in courage,
should have acted so inconsiderately.

"The officers of the National Guards appear to have assumed at once the
office of protectors of the regulars against the violence of the crowd.
Why the regulars should have submitted to this, seeing that they were
far better armed than their would-be guardians, I am unable to say. Be
this as it may, the regulars consented, the flag floating above the
principal door of the barracks was taken down, and I really believe
that the Municipal Guards stacked their arms and virtually handed them
over to the others. But I will not vouch for it. At any rate, a few
hours afterwards, while the company had gone to dinner, the barracks
were assailed, the men and officers knocked down by the people, and the
building set on fire. When the fifth legion returned about eleven
o'clock to the Faubourg Saint-Martin, the flames were leaping up to the
sky, so