osed of four members, who were Carnot,
Michel de Bourges, Jules Favre, and myself. De Flotte and Madier de
Montjau were specially delegated, De Flotte for the left bank of the
river and the district of the schools, Madier for the Boulevards and the
outskirts.

These preliminary operations being terminated, Lafon took aside Michel
de Bourges and myself, and told us that the ex-Constituent Proudhon had
inquired for one of us two, that he had remained downstairs nearly a
quarter of an hour, and that he had gone away, saying that he would wait
for us in the Place de la Bastille.

Proudhon, who was at that time undergoing a term of three years'
imprisonment at St. Pelagie for an offence against Louis Bonaparte, was
granted leave of absence from tine to time. Chance willed it that one of
these liberty days had fallen on the 2d of December.

This is an incident which one cannot help noting. On the 2d of December
Proudhon was a prisoner by virtue of a lawful sentence, and at the same
moment at which they illegally imprisoned the inviolable
Representatives, Proudhon, whom they could have legitimately detained,
was allowed to go out. Proudhon had profited by his liberty to come and
find us.

I knew Proudhon from having seen him at the Conciergerie, where my two
sons were shut up, and my two illustrious friends, Auguste Vacquerie and
Paul Meurice, and those gallant writers, Louis Jourdan, Erdan, and
Suchet. I could not help thinking that on that day they would assuredly
not have given leave of absence to these men.

Meanwhile Xavier Durrieu whispered to me, "I have just left Proudhon. He
wishes to see you. He is waiting for you down below, close by, at the
entrance to the Place. You will find him leaning on the parapet of the
canal."

"I am going," said I.

I went downstairs.

I found in truth, at the spot mentioned, Proudhon, thoughtful, leaning
with his two elbows on the parapet. He wore that broad-brimmed hat in
which I had often seen him striding alone up and down the courtyard of
the Conciergerie.

I went up to him.

"You wish to speak to me."

"Yes," and he shook me by the hand.

The corner where we were standing was lonely. On the left there was the
Place de la Bastille, dark and gloomy; one could see nothing there, but
one could feel a crowd; regiments were there in battle array; they did
not bivouac, they were ready to march; the muffled sound of breathing
could be heard; the square was full of that glist