After this incredible instance of foolishness and incoherency, we may stop. I will only beg pardon for mentioning one of the moral reflections made by one of the emissaries of the Commune at the commencement of this scene. I had occasion
to pronounce the name of God. “Stop,” said he to me, flourishing his revolver, “if God existed and should descend here, it is he I would shoot first!”
It was half-past five. My situation became less critical. These men, at first so ferocious, now treated me with politeness. The most brutal seemed almost ashamed of having insulted me. I was able to request the national guards appointed to watch over the Madeleine not to allow anything to be removed or desecrated. I also begged that the faithful employees of the church might have the liberty of returning home. The delegate charged to arrest me could no longer deceive himself. He became almost affable. I will not mention his name. He sufficiently dishonored the family from which he sprang by his deeds. A week after, by a coincidence worthy of note, he directed from the Madeleine the fight on the Boulevard Malesherbes. More strongly resisted than he had expected, he found himself with two of his agents hedged in by the Versailles troops, and sought shelter in the cellar of the church. An officer of the line shot him with a revolver, fracturing his skull. This prodigal child had become hardened in sin: unworthy of pardon and mercy, he had become incapable of repentance.
I arrived at the préfecture de police at a quarter past six, accompanied by a staff-officer of the Commune. I was as yet but little preoccupied about my situation, but when told that I was to appear at once before citizen Ferré, the préfet de police, who was regarded by men of penetration as another Robespierre, I felt that my case was extremely grave, and that, having but little to hope from man, I should confide myself to the protection of God.
II.
THE PREFECTURE DE POLICE AND MAZAS.
It is no easy matter to describe the singular scene at the préfecture de police, usually so quiet, so disciplined and solemn. This establishment had become noisier and more picturesque than a fair-ground. By way of contrast with the usual proceedings, robbers and other criminals now issued decrees of arrest and imprisonment, and they who were arrested and imprisoned were lovers of order and their duty.
The entrance was guarded by a crowd of national guardsmen, who had stopped drinking and smoking to laugh at the unfortunate victims of the hatred of the committee of public safety, who were arriving in large numbers. I had seen at the Madeleine the delegate who ordered my arrest give the staff-officer appointed to conduct me a five-franc piece to pay for the carriage. This honest man found it more suitable to leave this expense to his prisoner, and keep the five francs himself. It was a little contribution to the expenses of the war that I cheerfully paid. Like the misanthrope of Molière, I was almost glad to see the masters of Paris throw off the mask and add niggardliness to all kinds of violence. It was pleasant to be able to testify that a staff-officer of the Commune, the friend of Ferré and Raoul Rigault, the confidential agent of the committee of public safety, and one of the great dignitaries of the prefecture de police, committed a theft at my expense, and with an unceremoniousness that could not be found among the robbers and pickpockets of the worst quarters of the barriers.
After waiting three hours, I was