at any hour of the day or night. At this moment Paris
sleeps on a volcano, the fires of which have long been gathering through
many a fair and sunny day! God only knows when the volcano will burst;
but, when the hour comes, let the people be prepared!"

As these enthusiastic words were uttered, the dark eye of the speaker
flashed and his lip quivered. The silver clock on the mantel, beside
which the conspirators stood, struck the first quarter after two. The
night was waning, but the festivity seemed rather to increase than
diminish within the salons of the magnificent mansion, while the storm
howled even more drearily without, and the rain, at intervals, in heavy
blasts, beat even more fiercely against the northern casements.

As Louis Blanc ceased speaking, M. Flocon entered the salon, and, as if
by some preconcerted arrangement, at once sought his political friends.

"What of the night, watchman?" cried Ledru Rollin, as the editor of "La
Reforme" approached. "The latest news! for 'That of an hour's age doth
hiss the speaker,' as the English Shakespeare says. The news! good or
bad!"

"As I entered," said Flocon, "the house trembled with the jar of a train
of heavy ordnance, attended by tumbrels and artillery caissons, and
escorted by a regiment of horse, which rolled along the pavement of the
Champs Elysees."

"Good!" answered Marrast, with enthusiasm.

"All night," continued Flocon, eagerly, "through darkness and storm,
whole regiments of infantry have thronged the line of boulevards which
stretch from the Tuileries to Vincennes, and each soldier bears upon his
knapsack, in addition to all his arms, an axe to demolish barricades.
The garrisons of the arrondissements of Paris are already seventy
thousand strong; and the troops of the Line are concentrating around the
Palais Bourbon and the Chamber of Deputies."

"Excellent--most excellent!" joyfully exclaimed Louis Blanc. "The
affront will not be wanting! But where is M. Dantes?"

"He is still with the chiefs of the faubourgs and the committees of the
Free-masons and workmen, in the Rue Lepelletier, issuing his last
instructions for the morrow. Messieurs, that man is a magician! His zeal
in the good cause puts the boldest of us all to the blush. By most
indefatigable energy and indomitable perseverance, he has brought about
a systematic, almost scientific organization and fraternity, through
various modes of rapid intercommunication between the innumerable
cl