The aspects of the boulevards, in coming down the Italiens towards the

Marais, had impressed rue. The shops were open everywhere as usual. There

was little military display. In the wealthy quarters there was much

agitation and concentration of troops; but on advancing towards the

working-class neighborhoods solitude reigned paramount. Before the Café

Turc a regiment was drawn up. A band of young men in blouses passed

before the regiment singing the "Marseillaise." I answered them by crying

out "To Arms!" The regiment did not stir. The light shone upon the

playbills on an adjacent wall; the theatres were open. I looked at the

trees as I passed. They were playing Hernani at the Theatre des

Italiens, with a new tenor named Guasco.

The Place de la Bastille was frequented, as usual, by goers and comers,

the most peaceable folk in the world. A few workmen grouped round the

July Column, and, chatting in a low voice, were scarcely noticeable.

Through the windows of a wine shop could be seen two men who were

disputing for and against the coup d'état. He who favored it wore a

blouse, he who attacked it wore a cloth coat. A few steps further on a

juggler had placed between four candles his X-shaped table, and was

displaying his conjuring tricks in the midst of a crowd, who were

evidently thinking only of the juggler. On looking towards the gloomy

loneliness of the Quai Mazas several harnessed artillery batteries were

dimly visible in the darkness. Some lighted torches here and there showed

up the black outline of the cannons.

I had some trouble in finding Auguste's door in the Rue de la Roquette.

Nearly all the shops were shut, thus making the street very dark. At

length, through a glass shop-front I noticed a light which gleamed on a

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The History of a Crime