A stream of people, who preceded the masquerade, made a sudden irruption
through the arch into the square, uttering loud cheers as they advanced.
Children were also there, blowing horns, whilst some hooted and others
hissed.

The quarryman, Ciboule, and their band, attracted by this new spectacle,
rushed tumultuously towards the arch. Instead of the two eating-houses,
which now (1845) stand on either side of the Rue d'Arcole, there was then
only one, situated to the left of the vaulted passage, and much
celebrated amongst the joyous community of students, for the excellence
both of its cookery and its wines. At the first blare of the trumpets,
sounded by the outriders in livery who preceded the masquerade, the
windows of the great room of the eating-house were thrown open, and
several waiters, with their napkins under their arms, leaned forward,
impatient to witness the arrival of the singular guests they were
expecting.

At length, the grotesque procession made its appearance in the thick of
an immense uproar. The train comprised a chariot, escorted by men and
women on horseback, clad in rich and elegant fancy dresses. Most of these
maskers belonged to the middle and easy classes of society. The report
had spread that masquerade was in preparation, for the purpose of daring
the cholera, and, by this joyous demonstration, to revive the courage of
the affrighted populace. Immediately, artists, young men about town,
students, and so on, responded to the appeal, and though till now unknown
one to the other, they easily fraternized together. Many brought their
mistresses, to complete the show. A subscription had been opened to
defray the expenses, and, that morning, after a splendid breakfast at the
other end of Paris, the joyous troop had started bravely on their march,