"Why, no! It is young Vizetelly, a friend of my son's," adding, "Did you
wish to speak to me?"

I replied in the negative, saying that I had not even recognized him from
behind, and trying to explain that it was purely by chance that I had been
following him and M. Gambetta. "You know me, then?" exclaimed the future
dictator somewhat sharply; whereupon I mentioned that he had been pointed
out to me more than once, notably when he was in the company of M.
Delescluze. "Ah, oui, fort bien," he answered. "I am sorry if I spoke as I
did. But"--and here he turned to Simon--"one never knows, one can never
take too many precautions. The Spaniard would willingly send both of us to
Mazas." By "the Spaniard," of course, he meant the Empress Eugenie, just
as people meant Marie-Antoinette when they referred to "the Austrian"
during the first Revolution. That ended the affair. They both shook hands
with me, I raised my hat, and hurried on to the Grand Cafe, leaving them
to their private conversation. This was the first time that I ever
exchanged words with Gambetta. The incident must have occurred just after
his return from Switzerland, whither he had repaired fully anticipating
the triumph of the French arms, returning, however, directly he heard of
the first disasters. Simon and he were naturally drawn together by their
opposition to the Empire, but they were men of very different characters,
and some six months later they were at daggers drawn.

Events moved rapidly during Palikao's ministry. Reviving a former
proposition of Jules Favre's, Gambetta proposed to the Legislative Body
the formation of a Committee of National Defence, and one was ultimately
appointed; but the only member of the Opposition included in it was
Thiers. In the middle of August there were some revolutionary disturbances
at La Villette. Then, after the famous conference at Chalons, where
Rouher, Prince Napoleon, and others discussed the situation with the