ougons, though they did not quite see how they might
get rid of these people and clear the way for themselves, nevertheless
indulged in sanguine hopes on finding there was little likelihood of
anybody disputing their role as deliverers.

The denouement was drawing near. In the last few days of November, as
the rumour of a Coup d'Etat was circulating, the prince-president was
accused of seeking the position of emperor.

"Eh! we'll call him whatever he likes," Granoux exclaimed, "provided he
has those Republican rascals shot!"

This exclamation from Granoux, who was believed to be asleep, caused
great commotion. The marquis pretended not to have heard it; but all
the bourgeois nodded approval. Roudier, who, being rich, did not fear to
applaud the sentiment aloud, went so far as to declare, while glancing
askance at Monsieur de Carnavant, that the position was no longer
tenable, and that France must be chastised as soon as possible, never
mind by what hand.

The marquis still maintained a silence which was interpreted as
acquiescence. And thereupon the Conservative clan, abandoning the cause
of Legitimacy, ventured to offer up prayers in favour of the Empire.

"My friends," said Commander Sicardot, rising from his seat, "only a
Napoleon can now protect threatened life and property. Have no fear,
I've taken the necessary precautions to preserve order at Plassans."

As a matter of fact the commander, in concert with Rougon, had
concealed, in a kind of cart-house near the ramparts, both a supply of
cartridges and a considerable number of muskets; he had also taken steps
to secure the co-operation of the National Guard, on which he believed
he could rely. His words produced a very favourable impression.
On separating for the evening, the peaceful citizens of the yellow
drawing-room spoke of massacring the "Reds" if they should dare to stir.

On December 1, Pierre Rougon received a letter from Eugene which he went
to read in his bedroom, in accordance with his prudent habit. Felicite
observed, however, that he was very agitated when he came out again.
She fluttered round the secretaire all day. When night came, she could
restrain her impatience no longer. Her husband had scarcely fallen
asleep, when she quietly got up, took the key of the secretaire from
the waistcoat pocket, and gained possession of the letter with as little
noise as possible. Eugene, in ten lines, warned his father that the
crisis was at hand, and advi