[Footnote 10:  I once asked General Lafayette his opinion of the nerve of the Duc d’Orleans (Egalite).  He laughed, and said the King had made an appeal to him quite lately, on the same subject.  “And the answer?” “I told his Majesty that I believed his father was a brave man; but, you may be sure, I was glad be did not ask me if I thought he was an honest one, too.”]

The Pont Neuf was crowded with troops, who occupied the trottoirs, and with men, women, and children.  There had been some skirmishing at the Place de Greve, and the scene of the principal contest, the Rue St. Mery, was near by.  We were slowly threading the crowd with our faces towards the island, when a discharge of musketry (four or five pieces at most), directly behind us, and quite near, set everybody in motion.  A flock of sheep would not have scattered in greater confusion, at the sudden appearance of a strange dog among them, than the throng on the bridge began to scamper.  Fear is the most contagious of all diseases, and, for a moment, we found ourselves running with the rest.  A jump or two sufficed, however, and we stopped.  Two soldiers, one a National Guard, and the other a young conscript, belonging to the line, caught my eye, and knowing there was no danger, we had time to stop and laugh at them.  The National Guard was a little Mayeux-looking fellow, with an abdomen like a pumpkin, and he had caught hold of his throat, as if it were actually to prevent his heart from jumping out of his mouth.  A caricature of fright could scarcely be more absurd.  The young conscript, a fair red-haired youth, was as white as a sheet, and he stood with his eyes and mouth open, like one who thought he saw a ghost, immoveable as a statue.  He was sadly frightened, too.  The boy would probably have come to, and proved a good soldier in the end; but as for Mr. Mayeux, although scarcely five feet high, he appeared as if he could never make himself short enough.  He had evidently fancied the whole affair a good joke, up to that precise moment, when, for the first time, the realities of a campaign burst upon his disordered faculties.  The troops in general, while they pricked up their ears, disdained even to shoulder their arms.  For those on the bridge, there was, in truth, no danger, although the nearness of the volley, and the suddenness of the alarm, were well adapted to set a crowd in motion.  The papers next day, said one or two had been slain by this discharge, which actually came from the revolters.

You will probably be surprised, when I tell you that I had an engagement to dine to-day, with a gentleman who fills a high situation near the person of the King.  He had sent me no notice of a postponement, and as I had seen him pass in the cortege, I was reminded that the hour to dress was near.  Accordingly, I returned home, in order to prove to him that I was as indifferent as any Frenchman could be, to the events we had all just witnessed.  I found a dozen people