"What order?"
"The disbandment of the artillery, of course!"
"What! the artillery is disbanded?"
"Why, it is in black and white in the Moniteur!"
"You are joking. Do I ever read the Moniteur?"
"You are right to say that."
"But, by Jove! I say it because it is true!"
They all began laughing again.
I will acknowledge that, by this time, I was dreadfully angry; I had done a thing that, if considered in the light of an act of bravado, might indeed be regarded as a very grave impertinence, and one in which I, least of any person, had no right to indulge towards the king. I went down the staircase as quickly as I had gone up it, ran to the café du Roi, and asked for the Moniteur with a ferocity that astonished the frequenters of the café. They had to send out and borrow one from the café Minerve. The order was in a prominent position; it was short, but explicit, and in these simple words—
"LOUIS-PHILIPPE, KING OF THE FRENCH,—To all, now and hereafter, Greeting. Upon the report of our Minister, the Secretary of State for Home Affairs, we have ordained and do ordain as follows:—
"ARTICLE I.—The corps of artillery of the National Guard of Paris is disbanded.
"ARTICLE 2.—Proceedings for the reorganisation of that corps shall begin immediately.
"ARTICLE 3.—A commission shall be appointed to proceed with that reorganisation."