CHAPTER V.
TWO PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENTS.
I awoke upon the morrow impressed with that strange sensation which is so apt to occur after the first night’s repose in a new and unfamiliar locality. I could not for some time remember where I was. The events of the two last days beset me like the recollections of an unhealthy dream, produced by the agency of opiates; and it was with difficulty I could persuade myself that I had passed the night beneath the roof of the famous Tuileries.
“After all,” thought I, “the event may be an interesting, but it is by no means an unusual one, in this transitory world of ours. Louis XVI., Napoleon, Charles X., Louis Philippe, and Dunshunner, have by turns occupied the palace, and none of them have had the good fortune to leave it in perpetuity to their issue. Since abdication is the order of the day, I shall even follow the example of my royal predecessors, and bolt with as much expedition as possible; for, to say the truth, I am getting tired of this turmoil, and I think, with Sir Kenneth of Scotland, that the waters of the Clyde would sound pleasant and grateful in mine ear.”
A very slight toilet sufficed for the occasion, and I sallied forth with the full intention of making my immediate escape. This was not so easy. I encountered no one in the corridors, but as I opened the door of the Salle des Trophées, a din of many voices burst upon my ears. A number of persons occupied the hall, apparently engaged in the discussion of an extempore breakfast. To my infinite disgust, I recognised my quondam acquaintances of the cellar.
“Aha! thou art still here then, citizen?” cried Monsieur Destripes, who was inflicting huge gashes upon a ham, filched, no doubt, from the royal buttery. “By my faith, we thought thou hadst given us the slip. Never mind—we are not likely to part soon; so sit thee down and partake of our republican cheer.”
“I am afraid,” said I, “that business requires my presence elsewhere.”
“Let it keep till it cool then,” replied the other. “Suffice it to say, that no man quits this hall till the whole of us march out en masse. Say I right, brother Pomme-de-terre?”
“Just so,” replied the chiffonier, tossing off his draught from an ornament of Venetian glass. “We have built up a second barricade, and have sworn never to surrender.”
“How is this, gentlemen?” said I.