"Then let us go up to the foyer and then you can tell me this story."
"Ah! nothing would please me better."
We went from the theatre to the foyer, and sat down in that magnificent gallery which, at night especially, looks like a portico of Herculaneum or an atrium of Pompeii, in the fine shadows that cross it.
"Well?" I asked Charlet, putting a hand on his knee.
"Well," he said, "it was last 27 July—at that time I was a journeyman cabinet-maker—I heard it being said in the faubourg Saint-Antoine, where I was engaged in cutting up some wood, that there had been a riot in the place de la Bourse the previous night, and that there were crowds gathered round the Palais-Royal at that very moment. I was furious over the Ordinances, although I did not thoroughly understand where they curtailed our liberty; but I did understand it to be a sort of challenge thrown down to the citizens. I had long been waiting for this moment, and I did not stop to be told twice, but rushed off to see what was going on. When I reached the Marché des Innocents I heard platoon-firing in the direction of the halle aux Draps> then I caught sight of several wounded men, some dragging themselves along as best they could, others carried upon litters, and all expending their remaining strength in shouting 'To arms!' This spectacle exasperated me, and, without quite knowing, as I said, which was in the wrong, the People or Royalty, I began to shout in my turn, 'To arms!' A wounded man, who had no strength left to hold his rifle, gave it to me, and some man, I know not who he was, stuffed my pockets with cartridges; workmen and armed bourgeois, some with swords and some with carbines, were running towards the rue aux Fers, and I ran with them.... Now, whether I ran faster than everybody else, or whether I was more excited, somehow I found myself at their head, and they, seeing me at their head, took me for their leader. Upon entering the rue aux Fers we found ourselves opposite a regiment of the Guard; the first line fired: we were so close to the soldiers that the smoke from their rifles enshrouded us like a cloud; in the middle of this cloud I distinguished a young man stagger and fall down dead a few steps from me. I ran up to him; he was hit in the chest by a bullet that had gone right through, had come out at his back, and must have penetrated his heart. I took him in my arms and carried him away.... I was scarcely fifty yards from the troop; but it had ceased firing. For there was nobody in the street but myself, the dead man whom I was holding in my arms and a tall man with a pale face, who wore a red ribbon in his blue frockcoat: it was not worth while wasting powder over us three. I did not really quite know what I was doing; I carried my dead man to the rue de la Ferronnerie, and the man in the blue coat with the red ribbon followed me. This persistence in keeping me in sight made me suspicious of him; I stopped, and, seeing that he was coming up to me, I saved him half his distance by going to meet him. At length we met. I judged from his gentle, sad face that he did not wish to do me harm; however, when I had lain the dead man on the ground, I made my gun ready for any emergency; but, without taking any notice of my hostile precaution, he laid a hand on my shoulder, and, leaving it there, whilst I gazed at him in much surprise, he said: 'My friend, I have been following all your actions for the past hour.' 'I noticed that you had,' I said, 'and that was why I came towards you instead of waiting till you came up to me.' 'Are you the leader of these men?' 'Yes.... What does it matter to you, though?' 'It matters much,' he replied, 'for I too am a man.'
"There was so much sweetness in the voice of the unknown that I, who had begun by asking myself whether to put a bullet through him as I saw him following me, felt fascinated and looked on him with a certain respect. 'Well then,' I said to him, 'if you are a man you must see that they are killing our brothers, and you must help us to massacre all these villains of soldiers.' He smiled sadly. 'But those soldiers are also men,' he said, 'they are your brothers too; only, you act of your own free will, whilst they receive orders which they are obliged to obey. Do you know what the world calls what you are doing your best to bring about? It calls it a Revolution; and do you know what that means, eh?' 'I don't know whether I am raising a Revolution or not, nor whether a Revolution is a good or an evil thing; but I do know what I want.' 'What is that?' 'I want the Charter, Vive la Charte!' And then, in a word, I added, trying to struggle against the moral influence this unknown person was obtaining over me in spite of myself: 'Who are you? What are you asking of me? Why do you follow me?' 'I follow you because you interest me.' 'Very well, you also interest me to the extent of offering you this advice: believe me, you had better take another route.... 'You will not?' 'Very well, my friend. Then in that case I shall leave you. Good-evening!' A dozen men had collected round me; I picked up the dead man and took my way with my little troop towards the École de médecine, which I meant to reach by crossing the Seine by the Pont au Change; but great was my astonishment to come across my man again at the corner of the rue de la Vannerie; he was not content this time to give me advice, but took hold of my arm and tried to draw me in another direction. 'Ah! what the devil do you want with me? We must attend to this!' I cried, stamping my foot, and giving the dead body to the others to carry. 'I want to prevent you and your companions from going to certain death,' he said. 'There is a whole regiment on the Quai aux Fleurs; what can your fifteen or twenty men do against a regiment?' 'Sacrebleu!' I cried, 'you exasperate me beyond bearing! What does it matter to you if I am killed?' 'My friend,' he said to me, 'you must have a father or mother, sister or wife.... Well, I wish to save them tears.' I felt touched in spite of myself, but I was in the centre of men who had chosen me for their leader, and I would not draw back.... 'You are mistaken,' I said; 'I possess none of those ties, so be good enough to go your way and leave me to go mine.' Then, unhanding myself violently from him: 'To the École de médecine!' I shouted to my companions. 'To the École de médecine!' they repeated. And we rushed on to the place du Châtelet. Sure enough, there was a regiment drawn up on the other side of the Seine on the Quai aux Fleurs! 'Vive la ligne!' we shouted, making for the Pont au Change and shaking our guns. But, instead of fraternising with us, the colonel ordered us to withdraw; we took no notice of his injunction, but continued on our way. We were not more than a third of the way across the bridge when the regiment fired upon us. It was indeed a carnage! Two or three men fell round me; the others took to flight and deserted our dead man. I do not know why I was so set on this dead body; I thought it might be useful both as a standard and as a safeguard. I picked it up and beat a retreat to the place du Châtelet. What remained of my recent troop was waiting for me, and in the forefront was that persistent man of the blue coat and red ribbon. 'Well, my poor fellow,' he said, 'what did I tell you? Three or four of your men are killed and as many wounded! It is a miracle that you are alive; they probably fired fifty rounds at you! For Heaven's sake do not do any more such mad things.... Come, follow me!' 'Oh! that is the way the wind blows, is it!' I said, 'you red-ribboned man; do you know that you are beginning to annoy me intensely, and that if you push me much further I shall end by telling you to your face what I am thinking about you?' 'What is that?' 'Why, that you are probably a spy!'"
"When some of my men heard the word spy they exclaimed, 'What, do you say he is a spy?' And, taking aim at the unknown, they exclaimed: 'If he is a spy, let us shoot him!' I was terrified at this action, for something told me that the man did really mean kindly by me. 'No, no!' I cried, 'what are you thinking of? Down arms, sacrebleu!' 'But you said he was a spy,' several voices explained. 'I did not say that; on the contrary, monsieur is a neighbour of mine, and knows me; you heard him mention my mother, and remind me that if I got killed she would be left without anyone to support her.... A spy indeed, go along!'
"I went up to my unknown friend and held out my hand; he took it and pressed it cordially. He was as cool as though his life had never been endangered in the slightest. 'Thank you, my friend,' he said to me; 'I will never forget what you have just done for me. You are right, I am no spy; I will tell you more: I am of your political opinions, but I saw the first Revolution, and that more than satisfied my taste for revolutions.... So now, as I do not wish to see you killed, I will bid you adieu!' He left us and knocked at the door of the café of the Pont au Change, which, after some difficulty, admitted him. We others went off in the direction of the Quai de la Mégisserie, in order to reach the Pont Neuf; but we had scarcely gone forty yards along the quay before we received a volley from the rue Bertin-Poireé that killed four of our men; and, at the same moment, a squadron of mounted police issued from the place des Trois-Marie and advanced towards us, filling the whole width of the quay. I looked all round me, and found I was alone. I fired my gun in the middle of the police and saw one man fall. They had their muskets in hand and fired. I could feel the balls whistle past me, but not a single one hit me. The thought of death never entered my head; I was like one possessed! I receded as they advanced and discharged my rifle a second time, then I hid myself behind the fountain of the Châtelet. I decided to be killed there rather than take to flight. I had reloaded my gun and was taking aim the third time, when I felt someone seize me by the collar of my coat and draw me backwards. I turned round quickly, and it was my blue-coated, red-ribboned stranger once more! 'My friend,' he said, 'you are quite mad. Come and have a glass of eau sucrée with me, and that will bring you to your senses.' I felt in my pockets to see if I had enough to pay my reckoning and found I had ten sous, all I should require; so I replied: 'All right, my mouth is very dry; I will gladly drink something.' I had chewed seven or eight cartridges; and powder, you know, makes one very thirsty. I followed my man, and the café door closed behind us. 'Two glasses of eau sucrée!' he called out. 'Oh, not eau sucrée for me, please,' I said; 'it is too insipid!' 'What will you have then?—a small brandy?' 'I would rather have a kirsch.' 'All right, kirsch be it.' They served me with a glass of kirsch and brought him eau sucrée. 'Well,' he said, 'you are alone; all who were with you are either killed, wounded or fled.' 'True,' I replied; 'but others will take their places.'... 'To be killed, or wounded, or flee in their turn. You poor children! If only revolutions really gave you something in return! but, after each revolution, I have noticed that the people are more unhappy than before.' 'Bah!' I said, 'all the more necessary, then, that we should have a downright good revolution!' 'What are you by trade?' the unknown inquired of me. 'Journeyman cabinet-maker in the quartier de l'Arsenal.' 'How is work in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine?' 'There is plenty.' 'Succeed in making your revolution and then see in six weeks' time how it is.'
"'Well, the belly may be pinched, but at least we shall be free!' 'You may be starved and have less liberty even than before!' He rose. 'Listen, my friend,' he said; 'you told me that you lived in the quartier de l'Arsenal, I think?' 'Yes.' 'Well then, if, as I fear, work runs short, remember me,... come to the Arsenal Library and ask for the librarian,—if I can do you a good turn be sure I will.' He went to the counter, paid, and left. I had noticed signs of understanding going on between the proprietor of the café and my unknown friend, and I stayed behind to find out with whom I had been holding intercourse. As I was going up to question the proprietor of the café, he approached me. 'Do you know the person who has just gone out?' 'No, indeed; I should like to know who he is.' 'You say well, for he is one of the best men on earth!' 'The deuce!' I said, 'so much the worse!' 'Why so?' 'If you only knew what name I called him!' 'Called him!' 'Yes, him;—I called him a spy!' 'You called M. Charles Nodier a spy?' 'What, the man who has just left here, and with whom I have been drinking, is M. Charles Nodier?' 'The very same.' 'Oh! my God!' 'Well, what are you going to do?' 'Run after him—catch him up and beg his pardon.... Spy—M. Charles Nodier!' I shook the door the proprietor had bolted, with all my might. The firing began afresh at this moment, and five or six bullets pierced the shutters and broke the panes of glass. 'My gun!' I shouted,—'where is my gun?' 'Oh!'the proprietor said, 'your gun is upstairs.' 'Upstairs,—why?' 'Because I have no desire you should be seen going out of here with your rifle, and to have everything in my café smashed and broken. When it is dark I will return you your gun, and you can go away.... Upon my word, from what M. Nodier told me, you have done quite enough with it for to-day!' A second discharge was heard, and several more bullets came through the shutters. 'Come, come,' said the master of the café, 'it is not safe down here.... Let us go upstairs to the first floor!' So, taking me by the arm, he drew me towards the staircase. 'M. Charles Nodier!' I repeated as I followed him, half stunned; and I had called him a spy! I could think of nothing else the whole time I spent in the café of the Pont au Change, and I was there until nine o'clock. I returned home, and lay all night thinking of my day's adventure."