and, Madame Colombier _also boasted to another woman, that they
had worked very hard, and for some time past, at making
cartridges_."

Madame COLOMBIER, however, must cede in energy and boldness to the
reckless devilry of the Spanish ex-Queen; for the cartridges manufactured
by the wine-seller's wife were not to be discharged into the bed-room of
her own infant daughters! They were certain not to shed the blood of her
own children. Now the cartridges of the Rue de Courcelles were made for
any service.

One more extract from the confessions of QUENISSET (_alias_ DON LEON):--

"At the corner of the Rue Traversière I saw Just, Auguste, and
several other young men, whom I had seen in the morning receiving
cartridges. Upon my asking whether the attack was to be made,
_Just answered, Yes_. He felt for his pistols; my comrade got his
ready under his blouse. I seized mine under my shirt. Just called
to me, '_There, there, it is there you are to fire.' I fired. I
thought that all the others would do the same; but they made me
swallow the hook, and then left me to my fate, the rascals!_"

Poor DON LEON! So far the parallel is complete. The pistol was fired
against Spanish liberty; and the royal Just, finding the object missed,
sneaks off, and leaves his dupe for the executioner. There, however, the
similitude fails. LOUIS-PHILIPPE sleeps in safety--if, indeed, the ghosts
of his Spanish victims let him sleep at all; whilst for _Just_, the
carpenter, he is marked for the guillotine. Could Justice have her own, we
should see the King of the French at the bar of Spain; were the world
guided by abstract right, one fate would fall to the carpenter and the