is not realized. Workmen read the placards, say nothing, and go to
their work. Only one in a hundred speaks. It is to say, 'Good!' This
is how it appears to them. The law of the 31st May is abrogated--'Well
done!' Universal suffrage is re-established--'Also well done!' The
reactionary majority has been driven away--'Admirable!' Thiers is
arrested--'Capital!' Changarnier is seized--'Bravo!' Round each placard
there are _claqueurs_. Ratapoil explains his _coup d'état_ to Jacques
Bonhomme, Jacques Bonhomme takes it all in. Briefly, it is my impression
that the people give their consent."

"Let it be so," said I.

"But," asked Girard of me, "what will you do, Monsieur Victor Hugo?"

I took my scarf of office from a cupboard, and showed it to him.

He understood.

We shook hands.

As he went out Carini entered.

Colonel Carini is an intrepid man. He had commanded the cavalry under
Mieroslawsky in the Sicilian insurrection. He has, in a few moving and
enthusiastic pages, told the story of that noble revolt. Carini is one of
those Italians who love France as we Frenchmen love Italy. Every
warm-hearted man in this century has two fatherlands--the Rome of
yesterday and the Paris of to-day.

"Thank God," said Carini to me, "you are still free," and he added, "The