"Let us try to find a printing-office without delay," said Schoelcher, "and let the proclamation be posted up immediately."
"Before nightfall—the days are short," added Joigneaux.
"Immediately, immediately, several copies!" called out the Representatives.
Baudin, silent and rapid, had already made a second copy of the proclamation.
A young man, editor of the provincial Republican journal, came out of the crowd, and declared that, if they would give him a copy at once, before two hours should elapse the Proclamation should be posted at all the street corners in Paris.
I asked him,—
"What is your name?"
He answered me,—
"Millière."
Millière. It is in this manner that this name made its first appearance in the gloomy days of our History. I can still see that pale young man, that eye at the same time piercing and half closed, that gentle and forbidding profile. Assassination and the Pantheon awaited him. He was too obscure to enter into the Temple, he was sufficiently deserving to die on its threshold. Baudin showed him the copy which he had just made.