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was obliged to loose his hold of the man. The man fell face forwards,
and sank down on his knees.
Cournet opened the door.
"Off with you!" he said to them.
Huy and Lorrain jumped into the street and fled at the top of their
speed.
The coachman had noticed nothing.
Cournet let them get away, and then, pulling the check string, stopped
the fiacre, got down leisurely, reclosed the door, quietly took forty
sous from his purse, gave them to the coachman, who had not left his
seat, and said to him, "Drive on."
He plunged into Paris. In the Place des Victoires he met the
ex-Constituent Isidore Buvignier, his friend, who about six weeks
previously had come out of the Madelonnettes, where he had been confined
for the matter of the Solidarité Républicaine. Buvignier was one of
the noteworthy figures on the high benches of the Left; fair,
close-shaven, with a stern glance, he made one think of the English
Roundheads, and he had the bearing rather of a Cromwellian Puritan than
of a Dantonist Man of the Mountain. Cournet told his adventure, the
extremity had been terrible.
Buvignier shook his head.
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