March 10.—Louis Blanc spoke yesterday and to-day—yesterday about my resignation, to-day about the question of Paris. Grandly and nobly on each occasion.
March 11.—We are preparing for our departure.
March 12.—Many visits. My apartment was crowded. M. Michel Levy came to ask me for a book. M. Duquesnel, associate director of the Odéon Theatre, came to ask me for Ruy Blas.
We shall probably leave to-morrow.
Charles, Alice and Victor went to Arcachon. They returned to dinner.
Little Georges, who has been unwell, is better.
Louis Blanc dined with me. He is going to Paris.
March 13.—Last night I could not sleep. Like Pythagoras, I was thinking of numbers. I thought of all these 13’s so queerly associated with our movements and actions since the first of January, and upon the fact that I was to leave this house on a 13th. Just then there was the same nocturnal knocking (three taps, as though made by a hammer on a board) that I had heard twice before in this room.
We lunched at Charles’s, with Louis Blanc.
I then went to see Rochefort. He lives at 80, Rue Judaique. He is convalescent from an attack of erysipelas that at one time assumed a dangerous character. With him I found MM. Alexis Bouvier and Mourot, whom I invited to dinner to-day, at the same time asking them to transmit my invitation to MM. Claretie, Guillemot and Germain Casse, with whom I want to shake hands before I go.