The duke, first of all, declares that he _did not waver for one moment in coming to share the dangers_ of the Parisian people. A lie, since, on the contrary, he hid himself both at Neuilly and at Raincy during the time of danger, and only reached Paris when the danger was over on the night of the 30th. Next, he announces that the Chambers were about to assemble to _confer concerning the best methods of bringing about the reign of law and the maintenance of order_; which statement was a calumny against the people; for, if ever people respected law and maintained order it was the people of July 1830. Finally, M. le Duc d'Orléans said that _a_ Charter would henceforth be a genuine fact. He should have said that, from the very next day, not _a_ Charter but _the_ Charter, a change imperceptible to the eye and almost to the ear, which brought with it, however, the grave consequence that France, instead of having a new charter, was simply to have the Charter of Louis XVIII., and this meant that the king of the barricades, by appropriating that old charter, not only did not take the trouble to draw up another, but, with a new form of government, only promised to give the people the same amount of liberty as that promised by the fallen Government. This was, indeed, a bold start on a career of kingship. Lying, calumny and chicanery: Louis XI. himself could not have gone farther. I said that, at the close of this chapter, I would give some idea of the stinginess of the Duc d'Orléans. Perhaps this is not exactly the place for the fragments we are about to introduce to our readers' notice; but those who think they interrupt the course of the narrative, can carry their imaginations elsewhere.