Hullin, who had in the first place been a watchmaker at Geneva, then chasseur to the Marquis de Conflans, returned in his brilliant livery, which gave him the appearance of a Hungarian officer.
Elie, formerly an officer in the Queen’s Regiment, had put on his uniform, which inspired the people with greater confidence, as it made them believe that the army was for them and with them.
The firing recommended with greater fury than ever; and at that moment the major of the Bastille, Monsieur de Losme, approached the governor.
He was a brave and faithful soldier; but there were some remains of the citizen in him, and he saw with much regret what had taken place, and above all, what was likely to ensue.
“Sir,” said he to De Launay, “we have no provisions, and of this you must be aware.”
“I know it,” replied the governor.
“You also know that we have no orders.”
“I beg your pardon, Monsieur de Losme; my orders are to keep the gates of the Bastille closed, and it is for that purpose that the keys are intrusted to me.”
“Sir, the keys are used as well to open the gates as to close them. Beware that you do not cause the massacre of the whole of the garrison, without saving the castle,—two triumphs on the same day. Look at those men whom we are killing; they appear to spring up from beneath the pavement. This morning there were at first only five hundred of them; three hours ago there were ten thousand. They are more than sixty thousand now; to—morrow they will be a hundred thousand. When our guns shall be silenced, and it must at last end in that, they will be strong enough to take the Bastille with their hands.”
“You speak not like a soldier, Monsieur de Losme.”
“I speak like a Frenchman, sir. I say that his Majesty, not having given us any order,—I say that the Provost of the Merchants, having made us a proposal which was a very acceptable one, which was that of admitting a hundred men of the civil guard into the castle, you might, to avoid the evils which I foresee, accede to the proposal of Monsieur de Flesselles.”
“In your opinion, then, Monsieur de Losme, the power which represents the city of Paris is a power which we ought to obey?”
“In the absence of the direct authority of his Majesty, yes, sir, it is my opinion.”
“Well, then,” said De Launay, leading the major into a corner of the courtyard, “read that, Monsieur de Losme.”
And he handed him a small square piece of paper. The major read it.
Hold firm! I amuse the Parisians with cockades and promises. Before the close of the day, Monsieur de Besenval will send you a reinforcement.
DE FLESSELLES.
“How, then, did this note reach you, sir?” inquired the major.
“In the letter which the gentlemen of the deputation brought me. They thought they were delivering to me a request to surrender the Bastille, while they were delivering to me an order to defend it.”
The major bowed his head.
“Go to your post, Monsieur de Losme, and do not leave it until I send for you.”
Monsieur de Losme obeyed.
De Launay very quietly refolded the letter, and put it into his pocket. He then returned to his artillerymen and recommended them to fire low, and to take good aim.
The artillerymen obeyed, as Monsieur de Losme had obeyed.
But the fate of the fortress was predestined. No human power could delay its fulfilment.
To every cannon—shot the people replied by shouting,—
“We will have the Bastille!”
And while mouths were shouting, arms were vigorously acting.
Among the voices which shouted most energetically, among the arms which were acting the most efficaciously, were the voices and arms of Pitou and Billot.
Only each of them proceeded according to his different nature.
Billot, courageous and confident, had like a bull—dog, from the first rushed forward, defying balls and grapeshot.
Pitou, prudent and circumspect, like the fox, Pitou, endowed to a supreme degree with the instinct of self—preservation, made use of all his faculties to watch the danger and avoid it.