a prop for the coup d’etat, but would he consent?  Edgar Ney explained the affair to him, and left him only after seeing him leave the barracks of the Rue Verte at the head of the first regiment.  X. took up his position at the Place de la Madeleine.  As he arrived there La Rochejaquelein, thrust back from the Chamber by its invaders, crossed the Place.  La Rochejaquelein, not yet a Bonapartist, was furious.  He perceived X., his old schoolfellow at the Ecole Militaire in 1830, with whom he was on intimate terms.  He went up to him, exclaiming, “This is an infamous act.  What are you doing?” “I am waiting,” answered X. La Rochejaquelein left him; X. dismounted, and went to see a relation, a Councillor of State, M.R., who lived in the Rue de Suresne.  He asked his advice.  M.R., an honest man, did not hesitate.  He answered, “I am going to the Council of State to do my duty.  It is a Crime.”  X. shook his head, and said, “We must wait and see.”

This I am waiting, and We must see, preoccupied Louis Bonaparte.  Morny said, “Let us make use of the flying squadron.”

CHAPTER VI.

DENIS DUSSOUBS

Gaston Dussoubs was one of the bravest members of the Left.  He was a Representative of the Haute-Vienne.  At the time of his first appearance in the Assembly he wore, as formerly did Theophile Gautier, a red waistcoat, and the shudder which Gautier’s waistcoat caused among the men of letters in 1830, Gaston Dussoubs’ waistcoat caused among the Royalists of 1851.  M. Parisis, Bishop of Langres, who would have had no objection to a red hat, was terrified by Gaston Dussoubs’ red waistcoat.  Another source of horror to the Right was that Dussoubs had, it was said, passed three years at Belle Isle as a political prisoner, a penalty incurred by the “Limoges Affair.”  Universal Suffrage had, it would seem, taken him thence to place him in the Assembly.  To go from the prison to the Senate is certainly not very surprising in our changeful times, although it is sometimes followed by a return from the Senate to the prison.  But the Right was mistaken, the culprit of Limoges was, not Gaston Dussoubs, but his brother Denis.

In fine, Gaston Dussoubs inspired fear.  He was witty, courageous, and gentle.

In the summer of 1851 I went to dine every day at the Conciergerie with my two sons and my two imprisoned friends.  These great hearts and great minds, Vacquerie, Meurice, Charles, and Francois Victor, attracted men of like quality.  The livid half-light that crept in through latticed and barred windows disclosed a family circle at which there often assembled eloquent orators, among others Cremieux, and powerful and charming writers, including Peyrat.

One day Michel de Bourges brought to us Gaston Dussoubs.

Gaston Dussoubs lived in the Faubourg St. Germain, near the Assembly.

On the 2d of December we did not see him at our meetings.  He was ill, “nailed down” as he wrote me, by rheumatism of the joints, and compelled to keep his bed.