And the insurrectionists parted.
As the day closed, barricades rose in the Quartier du Temple, and there was fighting between the people and the Municipal Guard. But the National Guard came to the rescue, and the latter surrendered.
At nine o'clock Paris was illuminated. White, red, blue—yellow, orange, green—these were the tri-colors of the lamps that poured their rich effulgence from every window on the gloomy scene without. The streets were thronged and the cafés crowded; men of all nations and Parisians of all classes were in the streets; the rattle of musketry had ceased; the troops were in their barracks and the people at their homes.
At the corner of the Boulevard and the Rue des Capucines, Flocon and Louis Blanc met.
"Guizot has fallen!" cried the first.
"And the most intimate friend of the King has succeeded him! What have we to hope for from the change?"
"What are we to do?" asked Flocon.
"In one hour the people will sing the Marseillaise before the Hôtel des Affaires Étrangères!"
"The 14th Regiment of the Line is there," replied Flocon.
"So much the better! Blood will flow! The revolution will not stop!"