,
thinking that his last hour had come, he knelt in confession before his
brother, the Bishop of Meaux. Fortunately for him the rioters failed to
discover him, and were led away by another fancy.

"It was like a sudden and violent conflagration lighted up from the Pont
Neuf over the whole city," says De Retz. "Everybody without exception
took up arms. Children of five and six years of age were seen dagger in
hand, and the mothers themselves carried them. In less than two hours
there were in Paris more than two hundred barricades, bordered with
flags and all the arms that the League had left entire. Everybody cried
'Hurrah, for the king!' but echo answered, 'None of your Mazarin!'"

It was an incipient revolution, but it was the minister and the regent,
not the king, against whom the people had risen, its object being the
support of the Parliament of Paris, not the States General of the
kingdom. France was not yet ready for the radical work reserved for a
later day. The turbulent Parisians were in the street, arms in hand, but
they had not yet lost the sentiment of loyalty to the king. A century
and a half more of misrule were needed to complete this transformation
in the national idea.

While all this was going on, the coadjutor, the soul of the outbreak,
kept at home, vowing that he was powerless to control the people. At an
early hour the Parliament assembled at the Palace of Justice, but its
deliberations were interrupted by shouts of "Broussel! Broussel!" from
the immense multitude which filled every adjoining avenue. Only the
release of the arrested members could appease the mob. The Parliament
determined to go in a body and demand this of the queen.

Their journey was an eventful one. Paris was in insurrection. Everywhere
they found the people in arms, while barricades were thrown up at every
hundred paces. Through the shouting and howling mob they made their way
to the queen's palace, the ushers in front, with their square caps, the
members following in their robes, at their head M. Mole, their premier
president.

The conference with the queen was a passionate one. M. Mole spoke for
the Parliament, representing to the queen the extreme danger Paris was
in, the peril to all France, unless the prisoners were released and the
sedition allayed. He spoke to a woman "who feared nothing because she
knew but little," and who was just then controlled by pride and passion
instead of reason.

"I am quite aware that t