on.

On the square of the Chateau d'Eau a huge and furious crowd surging
round the station house, which was protected by numerous Municipal
Guards, showed us the assassin, or one of them, had been arrested. The
review was concluded, and my father's self-control was sorely tried by
the unanimity and fervour of the acclamations of which he was the object
from all sides, from soldiers and civilians alike. It is unnecessary to
add that we did not see any more red carnations.

The march past was to take place in the Place Vendome, and the
chancellor's offices were full of ladies of the official world, gathered
round my mother. We dismounted for a moment to go and speak to them, and
here again a moving scene took place. We had been able to send on an
aide-de-camp to assure my mother and aunt and my sisters that we were
safe and sound, but our messenger had not had time to learn the names of
all the victims. So when we mounted the stairs of the chancellor's
offices, some of us all bespattered with blood, all these women, their
brilliant dresses contrasting sadly with their terrified eyes, rushed
upon us to see whether those they loved were amongst us. Some of them
were never to see their dear ones again!

Shortly after this bloody episode in our national history I joined the
Didon frigate, Captain de Parseval, as enseigne de vaisseau. My new
commanding officer, who had joined the navy at a very early age, had
served as a midshipman on board Villeneuve's vessel, the Bucentaure, at
Trafalgar. He was in command of the mizzentop, and saw Nelson's ship,
the Victory, pass slowly astern of the Bucentaure--so close that her
yards caught the other's ensign--while the fifty guns of the British
ship poured their fire one after the other into the stern of the French