forced his way through the crowd with great trouble, and went off at a
gallop. On seeing this, the people felt there was no time to be lost;
they knew of what kind the general was, and that he would be on the spot
in a quarter of an hour. A large crowd is invincible through its
numbers; it has only to press forward, and everything gives way, men,
wood, iron. At this moment the crowd, swayed by a common impulse, swept
forward, the gens d'armes and their horses were crushed against the wall,
doors gave way, and instantly with a tremendous roar a living wave
flooded the church. Cries of terror and frightful imprecations were
heard on all sides, everyone made a weapon of whatever came to hand,
chairs and benches were hurled about, the disorder was at its height; it
seemed as if the days of the Michelade and the Bagarre were about to
return, when suddenly the news of a terrible event was spread abroad, and
assailants and assailed paused in horror. General Lagarde had just been
assassinated.

As the crowd had foreseen, no sooner did the messenger deliver his
message than the general sprang on his horse, and, being too brave, or
perhaps too scornful, to fear such foes, he waited for no escort, but,
accompanied by two or three officers, set off at full gallop towards the
scene of the tumult. He had passed through the narrow streets which led
to the meeting-house by pushing the crowd aside with his horse's chest,
when, just as he got out into the open square, a young man named Boisson,
a sergeant in the Nimes National Guard, came up and seemed to wish to
speak to him. The general seeing a man in uniform, bent down without a
thought of danger to listen to what he had to say, whereupon Boisson drew
a pistol out and fired at him. The ball broke the collar-bone and lodged
in the neck behind the carotid artery, and the general fell from his
horse.