At three o'clock M. Rambuteau, Prefect of the Seine, waited on the King and informed him that the National Guard demanded reform, and the Municipal Guard a change of Ministry. The King in dismay convened the Ministry. "Can the Ministry maintain itself?" asked Louis Philippe. "That question brings its own answer to your Majesty," replied Guizot. "If you doubt the stability of your Ministry, who can trust them?" "I have thought of the Count Mole," observed the King. "He is an able man, sire," replied Guizot; "and his political connections with M. Barrot and M. Thiers may aid him to form a Ministry. But, sire, not an instant is to be lost. Your faithful Ministers will do all they can, but a Ministerial crisis cannot be delayed; and, if your Majesty will permit the suggestion, the emergency demands that to Marshal Bugeaud be given the command of Paris." "You will proceed to the Chamber to announce that M. Mole is entrusted with the formation of a new cabinet," said the King. And the council closed. At four, an officer of the staff passed along the boulevards, announcing the fall of the Ministry. Instantly, with the speed of the telegraph, the intelligence flew to the obscurest parts of Paris. Its effect was, at first, most cheering. Barricades were deserted and arms thrown down; faces brightened, hands, almost stained with each other's blood, were clasped; troops and people, unwillingly fighting, embraced; all was triumph, joy and congratulation. "All now is over--all is right at last!" was the exclamation of one man of the people to another. "Guizot has fallen, but the King has sent for Count Mole," replied a third, with a dissatisfied air. "No matter," cried the first speaker, "the system is overturned! What care we who is Minister?" "It is too late," replied the other. "Guizot has been forced away by the people--Mole may be forced away, too--so may the King! No more tricks! The people now know their power. There shall be no mistake this time!" And the insurrectionists parted. As the day closed, barricades rose in the Quartier du Temple, and there was fighting between the people and the Municipal Guard. But the National Guard came to the rescue, and the latter surrendered. At nine o'clock Paris was illuminated. White, red, blue--yellow, orange, green--these were the tri-colors of the lamps that poured their rich effulgence from every window on the gloomy scene without. The streets were thronged and the cafes crowded; men of all nations and Parisians of all classes were in the streets; the rattle of musketry had ceased; the troops were in their barracks and the people at their homes. At the corner of the Boulevard and the Rue des Capucines, Flocon and Louis Blanc met. "Guizot has fallen!" cried the first. "And the most intimate friend of the King has succeeded him! What have we to hope for from the change?" "What are we to do?" asked Flocon.