Alfred de Rosann by G.W.M. Reynolds — page 258: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Alfred de Rosann. 225 It was a glorious sight to see heroes fighting in a righteous cause. Paris had awakened from a profound stupor—the people were wearied of languishing beneath a tyrant’s rod—the watch- word had been passed round—and thousands came forward to hoist the tri-coloured flag. There was but little indecision after the ap- pearance of that royal mandate, which threatened to reducea mighty nation to the lowest abyss of slavery. The flame of the revolution broke out in two or three places at the same time ; and De Rosann was one of those who comprehended the reason of so sudden and simultaneous an insurrection. Seventy-two short hours would not have sufficed to cast off chains artfully woven, and craftily thrown round a million of men, had not preparations and resolutions how to act been primarily thought of and planned Hundreds of strangers were in the ranks of the insurgents ; in- habitants of distant towns were on the spot to aid the popular cause ; and the visage of many a notorious character was recognised by the police in the heat of the battle. The refuse of society—the lowest of the low—the escaped criminal, the undetected malefactor, the lurking thief, the daring adventurer, and the insolent beggar, all forgot their separate avocations, and joined in the general shout of “ Liberty! liberty !” Foremost in the ranks of the revolutionists, De Rosann recog- nised Leblond. That mysterious agent of the vast intrigues which had accomplished the events now brought about, gave a significant nod to our hero—and when a sudden movement brought them near each other, he cried, in a triumphant tone, “ Did I not prophesy truly, M. De Rosann? Has not the glorious moment proclaimed its own presence ?” And without waiting for a reply, he again bran- dished the gory weapon of death which he held in his hand, and rushed upon the royal cohorts with demoniac courage. It must not be imagined that our hero forgot his beloved Eloise in the din, the excitement, and the danger of battle. Often did he tremble for her safety; and when on the morning of the third day he understood that the strife was bloody and well-maintained in the Rue des Pyramides, and in all the immediate neighbourhood of the Tuileries, he felt his heart sink within him; for thousands had already paid dearly for a rash curiosity, and had been killed at their very windows by the musquetry of the soldiers or the random shots of the citizens. Towards the quarter where Eloise dwelt with her mother and uncle, did De Rosann hasten, followed by the little band that placed itself under his guidance. He cast an anxious glance towards the windows of the apartments which he well re- membered, and to his inexpressible delight he saw that the white Venetian blinds were fast closed. His mind felt relieved of a con- siderable weight ; and he turned his attention to the surrounding warfare. The civil conflict raged in that quarter with terrible violence. The street was entirely divested of pavement—the marks of the musket-balls may be seen at the present moment upon the pillars of the colonnades and the walls of the houses. At the corner of the Rue St. Honoré, a handful of revolutionists combatted valiantly COnicbooolks (GO)