“Exactly so. I have the honour to be one of the members of the Provisional Government of France.”
“Am I in my senses or not?” muttered Bagsby. “Oh, sir, whoever you are, do be a good fellow for once, and let me get home! I promise you, I shall not say a word about this business on the other side of the Channel.”
“Far be it from me to lay any restraint upon your freedom of speech, Mr Bagsby. So, then, I conclude you refuse? Well, be it so. After all, I daresay Crémieux will get on very well without you.”
“But pray, M. Albert—one word,” said I. “You mentioned a republic—”
“I did. It has been established for an hour. Louis Philippe has abdicated, and in all probability is by this time half a league beyond the barrier. The Duchess of Orleans came down with her son to the Chamber of Deputies, and I really believe there would have been a regency; for the gallantry of France was moved, and Barrot was determined on the point. Little Ledru Rollin, however, saved us from half measures. Rollin is a clever fellow, with the soul of a Robespierre; and, seeing how matters were likely to go, he quietly slipped to the door, and admitted a select number of our friends from the barricades. That put a stop to the talking. You have no idea how quiet gentlemen become in the presence of a mob with loaded muskets. Their hearts failed them; the deputies gradually withdrew, and a republic was proclaimed by the sovereign will of the people. I am just on my way to the Hôtel de Ville, to assist in consolidating the government.”
“Bon voyage, M. Albert!”
“Oh, we shall do it, sure enough! But here we are near the Tuileries. Perhaps, gentlemen, you would like to enjoy the amusements which are going on yonder, and to drink prosperity to the new Republic in a glass of Louis Philippe’s old Clos Vougeot. If so, do not let me detain you. Adieu!” And, with a spasmodic twitch of his nose, the eccentric ouvrier departed.
“Well! what things one does see abroad, to be sure!” said Bagsby: “I recollect him quite well at the time of the Reform Bill—”