On seeing the Representatives approach, the soldiers and their officers were for the moment bewildered. Meanwhile the captain signed to the Representatives to stop. They stopped, and Schoelcher said in an impressive voice,-- "Soldiers! we are the Representatives of the Sovereign People, we are your Representatives, we are the Elect of Universal Suffrage. In the name of the Constitution, in the name of Universal Suffrage, in the name of the Republic, we, who are the National Assembly, we, who are the Law, order you to join us, we summon you to obey. We ourselves are your leaders. The Army belongs to the People, and the Representatives of the People are the Chiefs of the Army. Soldiers! Louis Bonaparte violates the Constitution, we have outlawed him. Obey us." The officer who was in command, a captain named Petit, did not allow him to finish. "Gentlemen," he said, "I have my orders. I belong to the People. I am a Republican as you are, but I am only an instrument." "You know the Constitution?" said Schoelcher. "I only know my instructions." "There is an instruction above all other instructions," continued Schoelcher, "obligatory upon the Soldier as upon the Citizen--the Law." He turned again towards the soldiers to harangue them, but the captain cried out to him,-- "Not another word! You shall not go on! If you add one word, I shall give the order to fire." "What does that matter to us?" said Schoelcher. At this moment an officer arrived on horseback. It was the major of the regiment. He whispered for a moment to the captain. "Gentlemen! Representatives!" continued the captain, waving his sword, "withdraw, or I shall fire." "Fire!" shouted De Flotte. The Representatives--strange and heroic copy of Fontenoy--took off their hats, and faced the muskets. Schoelcher alone kept his hat on his head, and waited with his arms crossed. "Fix bayonets," said the captain. And turning towards the squads, "Charge!" "Vive la République!" cried out the Representatives. The bayonets were lowered, the companies moved forward, the soldiers came on at the double upon the motionless Representatives. It was a terrible and superb moment. The seven Representatives saw the bayonets at their breasts without a word, without a gesture, without one step backwards. But the hesitation which was not in their soul was in the heart of the soldiers. The soldiers felt distinctly that this was a double stain upon their uniform--the outrage upon the Representatives of the People--which was treason, and the slaughter of unarmed men, which was cowardice. Now treason and cowardice are two epaulets to which a general sometimes becomes reconciled, the soldier--never.