And with an abrupt military salute the conqueror of Algeria walked away, followed by his little brother-in-law, who seemed yet shorter and more insignificant at the side of his towering and graceful form. At the same moment, Ledru Rollin entered in great agitation, and, having glanced hastily around, as if in search of some one in the assemblage, advanced straight to the journalist and grasped his hand. "By heavens, Armand, I think the hour has arrived!" "Whence do you come?" was the quick question. "From the Boulevards, where I left Flocon, Louis Blanc and M. Dantes, with the people. I tell you, Armand, the people are ripe--ripe! The Ministerial ordinances prohibiting the banquet have kindled a flame wherever they have gone. The pitiful manifesto of the opposition and the counter manifesto of the Twelfth Arrondissement have only served to fan this flame into fury. It has been our care to restrain and direct, not to excite. It is dark and cold without, Armand; the winter wind howls dismally along the streets, the sleet freezes as it falls and the furious blast almost extinguishes the torches by which, at the corners and at the cafes, the different manifestoes of the day are being read to the eager throngs, on whose faces, in the flare of the blood-red light, can be perceived the fury of their hearts. The people, at length, are ripe! To-morrow all Paris will be in arms!" While Ledru Rollin was thus speaking, Louis Blanc entered and quietly approached, courteously saluting his acquaintances on his way, and stopping to exchange a few words with Madame Dantes, who inquired with considerable anxiety for her husband. "I have this moment left him, Madame," said Louis Blanc. "Be assured, he is safe and well. Ah! how glorious to be an object of solicitude to one like you!" he added, with a smile. The lady smiled also, and offered an appropriate jest in reply to the gallantry of the distinguished author, as he moved on to join his friends. "The Ministry provokes its fate!" he said, in a low tone, as he approached. "'Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.' These men suffered seventy reform banquets all over France. The seventy-first one they prohibit, and that, too, by the exhumation of an old despotic edict of 1790. This is exactly what we would have. It was the first, not the last banquet they should have suppressed. Barrot was right to-day, in the Chamber, when he said that had this manifestation been suffered the people would have become tranquil."