colleagues and constitute themselves prisoners.

Night came. They were hungry. Several had not eaten since the morning. M.

Howyn de Tranchère, a man of considerable kindness and devotion, who had

acted as porter at the Mairie, acted as forager at the barracks. He

collected five francs from each Representative, and they sent and ordered

a dinner for two hundred and twenty from the Café d'Orsay, at the corner

of the Quay, and the Rue du Bac. They dined badly, but merrily. Cookshop

mutton, bad wine, and cheese. There was no bread. They ate as they best

could, one standing, another on a chair, one at a table, another astride

on his bench, with his plate before him, "as at a ball-room supper," a

dandy of the Right said laughingly, Thuriot de la Rosière, son of the

regicide Thuriot. M. de Rémusat buried his head in his hands. Emile Péan

said to him, "We shall get over it." And Gustave de Beaumont cried out,

addressing himself to the Republicans, "And your friends of the Left!

Will they preserve their honor? Will there be an insurrection at least?"

They passed each other the dishes and plates, the Right showing marked

attention to the Left. "Here is the opportunity to bring about a fusion,"

said a young Legitimist. Troopers and canteen men waited upon them. Two

or three tallow candles burnt and smoked on each table. There were few

glasses. Right and Left drank from the same. "Equality, fraternity,"

exclaimed the Marquis Sauvaire-Barthélemy, of the Right. And Victor

Hannequin answered him, "But not Liberty."

Colonel Feray, the son-in-law of Marshal Bugeaud, was in command at the

barracks; he offered the use of his drawing-room to M. de Broglie and to

M. Odilon Barrot, who accepted it. The barrack doors were opened to M. de

Kératry, on account of his great age, to M. Dufaure, as his wife had just

147

The History of a Crime