The Rue Caumartin leads into the Rue St. Lazare.  I went towards it.  It was broad daylight.  At every moment I was overtaken and passed by fiacres laden with trunks and packages, which were hastening towards the Havre railway station.  Passers-by began to appear.  Some baggage trains were mounting the Rue St. Lazare at the same time as myself.  Opposite No. 42, formerly inhabited by Mdlle.  Mars, I saw a new bill posted on the wall.  I went up to it, I recognized the type of the National Printing Office, and I read,

  “COMPOSITION OF THE NEW MINISTRY.

“Interior —­M. de Morny. “War —­The General of Division St. Arnaud. “Foreign Affairs —­M. de Turgot. “Justice —­M.  Rouher. “Finance —­M.  Fould. “Marine —­M.  Ducos. “Public Works —­M.  Magne. “Public Instruction —­M.H.  Fortuol. “Commerce —­M.  Lefebre-Durufle.”

I tore down the bill, and threw it into the gutter!  The soldiers of the party who were leading the wagons watched me do it, and went their way.

In the Rue St. Georges, near a side-door, there was another bill.  It was the “Appeal to the People.”  Some persons were reading it.  I tore it down, notwithstanding the resistance of the porter, who appeared to me to be entrusted with the duty of protecting it.

As I passed by the Place Breda some fiacres had already arrived there.  I took one.  I was near home, the temptation was too great, I went there.  On seeing me cross the courtyard the porter looked at me with a stupefied air.  I rang the bell.  My servant, Isidore, opened the door, and exclaimed with a great cry, “Ah! it is you, sir!  They came during the night to arrest you.”  I went into my wife’s room.  She was in bed, but not asleep, and she told me what had happened.

She had gone to bed at eleven o’clock.  Towards half-past twelve, during that species of drowsiness which resembles sleeplessness, she heard men’s voices.  It seemed to her that Isidore was speaking to some one in the antechamber.  At first she did not take any notice, and tried to go to sleep again, but the noise of voices continued.  She sat up, and rang the bell.

Isidore came in.  She asked him,

“Is any one there?”

“Yes, madame.”

“Who is it?”

“A man who wishes to speak to master.”

“Your master is out.”

“That is what I have told him, madame.”

“Well, is not the gentleman going?”

“No, madame, he says that he urgently needs to speak to Monsieur Victor Hugo, and that he will wait for him.”

Isidore had stopped on the threshold of the bedroom.  While he spoke a fat, fresh-looking man in an overcoat, under which could be seen a black coat, appeared at the door behind him.

Madame Victor Hugo noticed this man, who was silently listening.