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“‘The day is not far distant when, within four hours by the clock, eighty thousand patriots will be under arms.'” The various groups of societies for liberty of the press, individual liberty, instruction of the people, etc., all affiliated now were about to plunge into a frightful adventure. On the evening of the fourth of June and the morning of the fifth, the Faubourgh Saint Antoine assumed a formidable aspect, the net work of streets were filled with people; they armed themselves as best they might. There was a funeral. A man of action and renown in the interest of liberty had died: an event like the spark that discharges the artillery. Moreover the revolutionary fever was growing. Not a point in Paris, nor in France was exempt from it. The artery was beating everywhere. On the fifth of June, a day of rain and sun, the funeral procession traversed Paris with official pomp. Somewhat augmented through precaution. “Two battalions with draped drums and reversed arms, ten thousand National Guards, with their swords at their sides, escorted the coffin. The hearse was drawn by young men. The officers came immediately behind it bearing laurel branches. Then came an innumerable strangely agitated multitude. The sectionaries of the friends of the people, the law school, the medical school, refugees of all nationalities, and Spanish, Italian, German and Polish flags, tricolored, horizontal banners, every possible sort of banners. Children waving green boughs, stone cutters and carpenters who were on the strike at the moment; printers who were recognized by their paper caps, marching two by two, three by three, uttering cries; nearly all of them brandishing sticks, some brandishing sabers; without order and yet with a single soul; now a tumultuous rout, again a single column. Squads chose themselves leaders; a man armed with a pair of pistols in full view, seemed to pass the host in review and the files separated before him. On the side alleys of the boulevards, in the branches of the trees, on balconies, in windows, on roofs, swarmed the heads of men, women and children, all eyes filled with anxiety. An armed host was passing, and a terrified throng was looking on. “The government in its side was taking observation. It observed with its hand on the sword. Four squadrons of carbineers could be seen in the Place Louis XV, in their saddles with cartridge boxes filled and muskets loaded, all in readiness to march. In the Latin country and at the Jardin des Plantes, the municipal guard echelonued from street to street. At the Halle-Aux-Vins, a squadron of dragoons; at the Greve, half twelfth light infantry, the other half being at the Bastile, the sixth dragoons at the Celestins and the court yard of the Louvre full of artillery. . The remainder of the troops were confined to their barracks, without reckoning the regiments of the environs of Paris. “Power being uneasy, held suspended over the menacing multitude, twenty-four thousand soldiers in the city and thirty thousand in the banlieue. The procession proceeded with feverish slowness from the house of the deceased by way of the boulevards as far as the Bastile. It rained from time to time; the rain mattered nothing to the throng. Many incidents, the coffin borne round Vendome Column, stones thrown at the Duc de Fitz-James who was seen on a balcony with his hat on his head, the Gallic cock torn from a popular flag and dragged in the mire, a policeman wounded with a blow from a sword, the Polytechnic school coming up unexpectedly against orders to remain at home, the shouts of “Long live the Polytechnic,” “Long live the Republic,” marked the funeral train. Jehan was not intending to go to the funeral. With a constant sob in his heart, he had continued to wear a smile on his face which did not prevent pallor from taking the place of the bloom of health. His father had noticed this pallor and suspected that there had been some interruption in his love affair, and divined the cause of it, but said nothing until that day, the day of the funeral. He was greatly agitated because of the impending conflict. He said, “My son, the people do not want your republic, they know well that there has always been kings and that there will always be kings.” Jehan replied, “Kings engender parasites and paupers. Parasites above, paupers below; as long as there are kings, there will be prostitution of women and endless night for the child.” Monsieur Lenormand exclaimed, “Do you think that that rabble can change the face of the universe into paradise? Psst! you young men are a pack of fools, you go and join the republicans and you deliberate, I will tell you who they are, they are barbarians, released galley slaves and returned convicts. That's what they are, idiot.” Jehan replied, “The revolution put an end to torture, barbarians, you say,+very well, as for me, I prefer the barbarians of civilization to the barbarism of civilized men,” and he went out. But it must not be supposed that Jehan was so completely detached from self interest that his father's words had no effect; he thought, yes it is true, I have lost my love and besides what can we hope to accomplish, I have seen enough of this. He wandered about the streets like a dreamer in despairs All at once he was aroused by the roar of tumult in the city. Going on he saw a man with bare arms carrying a black flag on which could be read in white letters, “Republic or Death.” He sat down on a bench and began to weep. That was horrible. With bowed head he meditated thus, “Shall I forsake my friends now in the time when they need me?” He thought of “America,” and a certain rectification took possession of his mind. He lifted his head and saw the funeral procession. Soon a familiar voice, “Hohee.” Jehan, come with us. It was Charles at the head of the band of students. Jehan joined the procession. Monsieur Lenormand, deeply anxious for his son's safety, called his servant James and sent him to follow Jehan to see what would become of him. A little while before this event, Madame Cammille, after a severe illness, died, Evadne had been released from her imprisonment because of her mother's illness. After the funeral and the time of mourning, Evadne disguised herself in male attire in order to escape further imprisonment. On the fifth of June, the cry “To Arms” and the incessant ringing of the tocsin of Saint Merry, filled her with alarm. She feared that Jehan would be killed. She called Philip, her servant, and sent him to make inquiry concerning Jehan. He arrived at the gate of Monsieur Lenormand just as James was going out. Philip and James went on together. “At the Bastile long files of curious and formidable people who descended the faubourgh Saint Antoine, effected a junction with the procession, and a certain terrible seething began to agitate the throng. “One man was heard to say to another, “do you see that fellow over there, he's the one who will give the word when we are to fire. “The hearse passed the Bastile, traversed the small bridge, and reached the esplanade of the bridge of Austerlitz, there it halted. A circle was traced around the hearse. The vast rout held their peace. Lafayette spoke and bade General Lamarque farewell. “This was a touching and august instant. All heads uncovered, all hearts beat high. “All at once a man on horseback clad in black made his appearance in the middle of the group with a red flag. The red flag raised a storm and disappeared in the midst of it. Clamors which resemble billows stirred the multitude. “In the meantime the municipal cavalry on the left bank had been set in motion, and came to bar the bridge on the right bank, the dragoons emerged from the Celestine and deployed along the Quai Morland. Men shouted, “The dragoons.” “The dragoons advanced at a walk, in silence, with their pistols in their holsters, their swords in their scabbards, their

guns slung in their leather sockets, with an air of gloomy expectation.

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