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Updated: July 16, 2025
A bearer with a tray of drinks rounded a fluted column, shied as he confronted the diplomats, fumbled the tray, grabbed and sent a glass crashing to the floor. Magnan leaped back, slapping at the purple cloth of his pants leg. Retief's hand shot out to steady the tray. The servant rolled terrified eyes. "I'll take one of these, now that you're here," Retief said.
Retief whirled, leaped past Magnan, took the unarmed servant by the throat and belt, lifted him and slammed him against the third man. Both scrambled, yelped and fell from the sea-wall into the water. Retief turned back to Illy. He pulled off the man's belt and strapped his hands together. Magnan found his voice. "You.... we.... they...." "I know," Retief said.
Retief paused before a tall mirror to check the overlap of the four sets of lapels that ornamented the vermilion cutaway of a First Secretary and Consul. "Come along, Retief," Magnan said. "The Ambassador has a word to say to the staff before we go in."
"These two are scared of you," he said, grinning and jerking a thumb toward the knife-handlers. "They haven't worked around the Nenni like me; they don't know you." "Don't you recognize this gentleman?" Magnan said. "He did me a favor," the man said. "I remember." "What's it all about?" Retief asked. "The revolution. We're taking over now." "Who's 'we'?"
From the sentry-box where he was stationed Boillay saw defined on the windows black profiles and gesticulating shadows, which were Magnan, Saint-Arnaud, Persigny, Fleury, the spectres of the crime. Korte, the General of the Cuirassiers, had been summoned, as also Carrelet, who commanded the division which did the hardest work on the following day, the 4th.
Desarmoises back to the hotel, and I then called on M. Magnan, to whom I had been recommended by the Chevalier Raiberti. I asked him to get me some of the best wine, and he took me down to his cellar, and told me to take what I liked. His wines proved to be admirable. This M. Magnan was a clever man, of a pleasant appearance, and very comfortably off.
This sink where Baroche elbows Teste! where each brings his own nastiness! Magnan his epaulets; Montalembert his religion, Dupin his person! And above all the innermost circle, the Holy of Holies, the private Council, the smug den where they drink where they eat where they laugh where they sleep where they play where they cheat where they call Highnesses "Thou," where they wallow!
As, on the other hand, I had made the surprising discovery that Marshal Magnan had been present at all three of my concerts, I hoped to enlist this gentleman's sympathy, which might be turned to good account, as the Emperor was particularly indebted to him since the events of the 2nd of December.
The decisive moment drew near. The outpost had fallen back upon the barricades. The advanced posts of the Rue de Cléry and the Rue du Cadran had come back. They called over the roll. Not one of those of the morning was missing. They were, as we have said, about sixty combatants, and not a hundred, as the Magnan report has stated.
It is a sad business, and all the more so because I don't know how I can settle it. THE WIFE. What is it all about, Adolph? You are a wretch if you do not tell me what you are going to do! THE HUSBAND. My dear, that ass of a Prosper Magnan is fighting a duel with M. de Fontanges, on account of an Opera singer. But what is the matter with you? THE WIFE. Nothing.
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