"I did not arrive earlier, Monsieur Lebrenn, because we had to cross a large number of barricades. They are rising on all sides. I left Caussidiere and Sobrier behind--they are making ready to march upon the Prefecture; Lesserre, Lagrange, Etienne Arago are, at the earliest dawn, to march upon the Tuileries, and barricade Richelieu Street. Our other friends distributed themselves in various quarters." "And the troops, George?" "Several regiments fraternize with the National Guard and the people, and join in the shouts of 'Long live the Reform!' 'Down with Louis Philippe!' On the other hand, the Municipal Guard and two or three regiments of the line show themselves hostile to the movement." "Poor soldiers!" observed the merchant sadly. "They, like ourselves, are under the identical and fatal spell that arms brothers against one another. Well, let us hope this struggle will be the last. And your grandfather, George; did you succeed in making him feel at ease?" "Yes, monsieur; I just come from him. Despite his great age and weakness, he wanted to accompany me. I finally managed to induce him to stay indoors." "My wife and daughter are yonder," said the merchant, pointing toward the lattices on the first floor, through which the gleam of a lighted lamp could be seen. "They are busy preparing bandages and lint for the wounded. We shall set up a hospital in the shop." Suddenly the cry: "Stop thief!" "Stop thief!" resounded in the middle of the road, and a man who was running away as fast as his legs could carry him was seized by four or five workingmen in blouses and armed with guns. Among these a ragpicker with a long white beard, but still strong, was conspicuous. His clothes were in tatters, and, although he carried a musket under his arm he did not remove his pack from his shoulder. He was one of the first to seize the runaway, and now held him firmly by the collar, while a woman, running toward the group and panting for breath, cried: "Stop thief! Stop thief!" "Did this fellow rob you, my good woman?" asked the ragpicker. "Yes, my good man," she answered. "I was standing at my door. This man ran up and said to me: 'The people are rising; we must have arms.' 'Monsieur, I haven't any,' I answered him. Thereupon he pushed me aside and went into my shop, despite all I could do, saying: 'Well, if you have no arms, I shall take money to buy some.' So saying, he opened my till, took out of it thirty-two francs that I had there, and a gold watch. I tried to hold him, but he drew a knife upon me--fortunately I parried the blow with my hand--here, see the cut I got. I cried for help, and he fled!" The culprit was a good sized, robust, and well clad man, but of ignoble countenance. Hardened vice had left its indelible impress upon his wasted features. "It is not true! I stole nothing!" he cried in a husky voice, struggling to avoid being searched. "Let me go! What does it concern you, anyhow?"