“You see, the premeditation came alone from Juliette Lambert.”
I had not said a word, nor made a gesture, wishing to keep up my dignity, though accused, and to force my judges, my faithful friends, and even the traitors, to admire me.
“Do you deny what you have done?” Mlle. Sophie asked me.
“No, mademoiselle, I am an insurgent, but—”
At this moment the mother of one of my faithful friends entered, exclaiming:
“My daughter—I wish my daughter—where is she? The insurgents are marching on Chauny!”
There was a general panic. They allowed my friend and her mother to depart, and they barricaded the front door.
“Don’t be frightened!” I cried, going from one to another of my schoolmates, making no discrimination between friends and enemies, “I will protect you. They are my friends, and we will go and mount guard.”
We picked up our unfortunate and much damaged flag, and my corporal, my four “insurgents” and I, went and placed ourselves by the barricaded front door. We heard a battalion of the National Guard passing by, crying: “Down with the insurgents! Death to them!”
Frightened people in the streets talked together, saying: