uction. I had not put my
name down; Baudin's name stood second. He offered me his turn. I
accepted, and I was able to speak two days afterwards, on the 15th.

Baudin was one of the targets of Sieur Dupin, for calls to order and
official annoyances. He shared this honor with the Representatives Miot
and Valentin.

Baudin ascended the Tribune several times. His mode of speaking,
outwardly hesitating, was energetic in the main. He sat on the crest of
the Mountain. He had a firm spirit and timid manners. Thence there was in
his constitution an indescribable embarrassment, mingled with decision.
He was a man of middle height. His face ruddy and full, his broad chest,
his wide shoulders announced the robust man, the laborer-schoolmaster,
the peasant-thinker. In this he resembled Bourzat. Baudin leaned his head
on his shoulder, listened with intelligence, and spoke with a gentle and
grave voice. He had the melancholy air and the bitter smile of the
doomed.

On the evening of the Second of December I had asked him, "How old are
you?" He had answered me, "Not quite thirty-three years."

"And you?" said he.

"Forty-nine."

And he replied,--

"To-day we are of the same age."

He thought in truth of that to-morrow which awaited us, and in which was
hidden that "perhaps" which is the great leveller.

The first shots had been fired, a Representative had fallen, and the
people did not rise! What bandage had they on their eyes, what weight
had they on their hearts? Alas! the gloom which Louis Bonaparte had
known how to cast over his crime, far from lifting, grew denser. For the
first time in the sixty years, that the Providential era of Revolutions
had been open, Paris, the city of intelligence, seemed not to
understand!

On leaving the barricade of the Rue Ste. Marguerite, De Flotte went to
the Faubourg St. Marceau, Madier de Montjau went to Belleville,
Charamaule and Maigne proceeded to the Boulevards. Schoelcher, Dulac,
Malardier, and Brillier again went up the Faubourg St. Antoine by the
side streets which the soldiers had not yet occupied. They shouted,
"Vive la Republique!" They harangued the people on the doorsteps: "Is it
the Empire that you want?" exclaimed Schoelcher. They even went as far
as to sing the "Marseillaise." People took off their hats as they passed
and shouted "Long live the Representatives!" But that was all.

They were thirsty and weary. In the Rue de Reuilly a man came out of a
door with a bottl