The Citizen supposed nothing so unlikely; in fact, his questions asked, he was not thinking of Butin at all. His brain was working quickly, clearly. Already he saw his course marked out, and, as a consequence, he assumed that command of the situation which is always ceded to the man who sees his way before him whilst his fellows walk befogged. He sat at the table and wrote two notes, despatching one to the President of the Legislative Council and the other to the General Council of the Commune. Then he announced their contents, speaking briefly and with complete assurance. "I have written asking for six members of the Assembly and six of the Council, popular men who will assist us to control the mob. We shall, of course, defend the prisoners with our lives if necessary, but there must be no fighting unless as a last recourse. Where is the captain of the Guard?" The officer came forward, saluting. "You have—how many men?" "Four hundred, Citizen." "You can answer for them—their discipline, their nerve?" "With my life!" "Very well, attend to your instructions. Both sides of the great gates are to be opened." "Opened, Citizen?" stammered the captain, whilst a murmur of dissatisfaction ran through the room. Dangeau’s brows made a dangerous straight line. "Opened," he repeated emphatically. "Between the outer and inner doors you will draw up a double line of your steadiest men—unarmed." It was only the officer’s look which protested this time, but it quailed before Dangeau’s glance of steel. "You will place a strong guard beyond, out of sight. These men will be fully armed. All corridors, passages, and courts leading to the Tower will be held in sufficient force, but not a man is to make so much as a threatening gesture without orders. You will be so good as to carry out these instructions without delay. I shall join you at the gate." The captain swung away, and Dangeau turned to his colleagues. "I propose to try to bring the people to reason," he said; "if they will hear me, I will speak to them. If not—we can only die. The prisoners are a sacred trust, but to have to use violence in defending them would be fatal in the extreme, and every means must be taken to obviate the necessity. Legros, you are a popular man, and you, Meunier; meet the mob, fraternise with the leaders, promote a feeling of confidence. They must be led to feel that it is our patriotism which denies them, and not any sentiment of sympathy with tyrants." There was a low murmur of applause as Dangeau concluded. He had acted so rapidly that these slow-thinking bourgeois had scarcely grasped the necessity for action before his plan was laid before them, finished to the last detail. As he left the room, he had a last order to give: "Tell Cléry and Renault to keep the prisoners away from the windows"; and with that was on his way to the gates.