One of those who succeeded in slipping into the Rue Saint Jean, where moreover they ran the gauntlet of a volley from their assailants, was M.H.  Coste, Editor of the Evenement and of the Avenement du Peuple.

M. Coste had been a captain in the Garde Mobile.  At a bend in the street, which placed him out of reach of the balls, M. Conte noticed in front of him the drummer of the Garde Mobile, who, like him, had escaped by the Rue Saint Jean, and who was profiting by the loneliness of the street to get rid of his drum.

“Keep your drum,” cried he to him.

“For what purpose?”

“To beat the call to arms.”

“Where?”

“At Batignolles.”

“I will keep it,” said the drummer.

These two men came out from the jaws of death, and at once consented to re-enter them.

But how should they cross all Paris with this drum?  The first patrol which met them would shoot them.  A porter of an adjoining house, who noticed their predicament, gave them a packing-cloth.  They enveloped the drum in it, and reached Batignolles by the lonely streets which skirt the walls.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BARRICADE OF THE RUE THEVENOT

Georges Biscarrat was the man who had given the signal for the looting in the Rue de l’Echelle.

I had known Georges Biscarrat ever since June, 1848.  He had taken part in that disastrous insurrection.  I had had an opportunity of being useful to him.  He had been captured, and was kneeling before the firing-party; I interfered, and I saved his life, together with that of some others, M., D., D., B., and that brave-hearted architect Rolland, who when an exile, later on, so ably restored the Brussels Palace of Justice.

This took place on the 24th June, 1848, in the underground floor of No. 93, Boulevard Beaumarchais, a house then in course of construction.

Georges Biscarrat became attached to me.  It appeared that he was the nephew of one of the oldest and best friends of my childhood, Felix Biscarrat, who died in 1828.  Georges Biscarrat came to see me from time to time, and on occasions he asked my advice or gave me information.

Wishing to preserve him from evil influences, I had given him, and he had accepted, this guiding maxim, “No insurrection except for Duty and for Right.”

What was this hooting in the Rue de l’Echelle?  Let us relate the incident.

On the 2d of December, Bonaparte had made an attempt to go out.  He had ventured to go and look at Paris.  Paris does not like being looked at by certain eyes; it considers it an insult, and it resents an insult more than a wound.  It submits to assassination, but not to the leering gaze of the assassin.  It took offence at Louis Bonaparte.