These hideous Bastilles resemble that old human justice which possessed precisely as much conscience as they have, which condemned Socrates and Jesus, and which also takes and leaves, seizes and releases, absolves and condemns, liberates and incarcerates, opens and shuts, at the will of whatever hand manipulates the bolt from outside.

CHAPTER XI.

THE END OF THE SECOND DAY

We left Marie’s house just in time.  The regiment charged to track us and to arrest us was approaching.  We heard the measured steps of soldiers in the gloom.  The streets were dark.  We dispersed.  I will not speak of a refuge which was refused to us.

Less than ten minutes after our departure M. Marie’s house was invested.  A swarm of guns and swords poured in, and overran it from cellar to attic.  “Everywhere! everywhere!” cried the chiefs.  The soldiers sought us with considerable energy.  Without taking the trouble to lean down and look, they ransacked under the beds with bayonet thrusts.  Sometimes they had difficulty in withdrawing the bayonets which they had driven into the wall.  Unfortunately for this zeal, we were not there.

This zeal came frown higher sources.  The poor soldiers obeyed.  “Kill the Representatives,” such were their instructions.  It was at that moment when Morny sent this despatch to Maupas:  “If you take Victor Hugo, do what you like with him.”  These were their politest phrases.  Later on the coup d’etat in its decree of banishment, called us “those individuals,” which caused Schoelcher to say these haughty words:  “These people do not even know how to exile politely.”

Dr. Veron who publishes in his “Memoires” the Morny-Maupas despatch, adds:  “M. du Maupas sent to look for Victor Hugo at the house of his brother-in-law, M. Victor Foucher, Councillor to the Court of Cassation.  He did not find him.”

An old friend, a man of heart and of talent, M. Henry d’E——­, had offered me a refuge in rooms which he occupied in the Rue Richelieu; these rooms adjoining the Theatre Francais, were on the first floor of a house which, like M. Grevy’s residence, had an exit into the Rue Fontaine Moliere.

I went there.  M. Henry d’E——­ being from home, his porter was awaiting me, and handed me the key.

A candle lighted the room which I entered.  There was a table near the fire, a blotting-book, and some paper.  It was past midnight, and I was somewhat tired; but before going to bed, foreseeing that if I should survive this adventure I should write its history, I resolved immediately to note down some details of the state of affairs in Paris at the end of this day, the second of the coup d’etat.  I wrote this page, which I reproduce here, because it is a life-like portrayal—­a sort of direct photograph:—­

“Louis Bonaparte has invented something which he calls a ’Consultative Committee,’ and which he commissions to draw up the postscript of his crimes.