[29] The following is a document which completely justifies these apprehensions:— “30th March—The Commune of Paris—Orders from the Central Committee to the officer in command, of the battalion on guard at the station of Ouest-Ceinture. “To stop all trains proceeding in the direction of Paris at the Ouest-Ceinture station. “To place an energetic man night and day at this post. This man is to mount guard with a beam, which he is to throw across the rails at the arrival of each train, so as to cause it to run off the rails, if the engine-driver refuses to stop. “HENRI, Chief of a Legion.” [30] Vexatious measures accumulated: The pacific M. Glais-Bizoin was arrested in a tobacconist’s shop, where he was, doubtless, lighting a reactionary cigar. He fancied at first that there had been a mistake, but he was taken before the Committee, which caused him, however, to be liberated. M. Maris Proth, a writer in _Charivari_, which is certainly not a royalist journal, was arrested on the following day, and detained for a longer time. On the same day a search was made at the house of the publisher Lacroix.] [Illustration: Gambon.] XXV. Garibaldi is expected. Gambon has gone to Corsica to meet him. He is to be placed at the head of the National Guard. It is devoutly to be hoped that he will not come.[31] Firstly, because his presence at this moment would create new dangers; and secondly, because this admirable and honoured man would compromise his glory uselessly in our sorry discords. If I, an obscure citizen, had the honour of being one of those to whom the liberator of Naples lends an ear, I would go to him without hesitation, and, after having bent before him as I would before some ancient hero arisen from his glorious sepulchre, say to him,—“General, you have delivered your country. At the head of a few hundred men you have won battles and taken towns. Your name recalls the name of William Tell. Wherever there were chains to rend and yokes to break, you were seen to hasten. Like the warriors Hugo exalts in his _Légende des Siècles_, you have been the champion of justice, the knight-errant of liberty. You appear to us victorious in a distant vision, as in the realm of legend. For the glory of our age in which heroes are wanting, it befits you to remain that which you are. Continue afar off, so that you may continue great. It is not that your glory is such that it can only be seen at a distance, and loses when regarded, too nearly. Not so! But you would be hampered amongst us. There is not space enough here for you to draw your sword freely. We are adroit, strange, and complicated. You are simple, and in that lies your greatness. We belong to our time, you have the honour to be an anachronism. You would be useless to your friends, destructive to yourself. What would you, a giant fighting with the sword, do against dwarfs who have cannon? You are courageous, but they are cunning, and would conquer you.