all parties. By this expedient, Aristide
devised a glorious return for himself on the morrow of battle, in the
shape of a laudatory article on the victors. On the following day he
showed himself to the whole town, with his arm in a sling. His mother,
frightened by the notice in the paper, hastily called upon him, but
he refused to show her his hand, and spoke with a bitterness which
enlightened the old woman.

"It won't be anything," she said in a reassuring and somewhat sarcastic
tone, as she was leaving. "You only want a little rest."

It was no doubt owing to this pretended accident, and the sub-prefect's
departure, that the "Independant" was not interfered with, like most of
the democratic papers of the departments.

The 4th day of the month proved comparatively quiet at Plassans. In the
evening there was a public demonstration which the mere appearance
of the gendarmes sufficed to disperse. A band of working-men came to
request Monsieur Garconnet to communicate the despatches he had received
from Paris, which the latter haughtily refused to do; as it retired
the band shouted: "Long live the Republic! Long live the Constitution!"
After this, order was restored. The yellow drawing-room, after
commenting at some length on this innocent parade, concluded that
affairs were going on excellently.

The 5th and 6th were, however, more disquieting. Intelligence was
received of successive risings in small neighbouring towns; the
whole southern part of the department had taken up arms; La Palud and
Saint-Martin-de-Vaulx had been the first to rise, drawing after them
the villages of Chavanos, Nazeres, Poujols, Valqueyras and Vernoux. The
yellow drawing-room party was now becoming seriously alarmed. It felt
particularly uneasy at seeing Plassans isolated in the very midst of the
revolt. Bands of insurgents would certainly scour the country and cut
off all communications. Granoux announced, with a terrified look, that
the mayor was without any news. Some people even asserted that blood had
been shed at Marseilles, and that a formidable revolution had broken out
in Paris. Commander Sicardot, enraged at the cowardice of the bourgeois,
vowed he would die at the head of his men.

On Sunday the 7th the terror reached a climax. Already at six o'clock
the yellow drawing-room, where a sort of reactionary committee sat _en
permanence_, was crowded with pale, trembling men, who conversed in
undertones, as though they were in a chambe