One of the sentinels thrust him rudely back, crying out, "Be off." Like the _sergents de ville_ at the Prefecture of Police, the workmen had been retained at the National Printing Office under plea of night-work.
At the same time that M.Hippolyte Prevost returned to the Legislative Palace, the manager of the National Printing Office re-entered his office, also returning from the Opera Comique, where he had been to see the new piece, which was by his brother, M.de St.Georges.

Immediately on his return the manager, to whom had come an order from the Elysee during the day, took up a pair of pocket pistols, and went down into the vestibule, which communicates by means of a few steps with the courtyard.
Shortly afterwards the door leading to the street opened, a _fiacre_ entered, a man who carried a large portfolio alighted.

The manager went up to the man, and said to him, "Is that you, Monsieur de Beville ?" "Yes," answered the man.
The _fiacre_ was put up, the horses placed in a stable, and the coachman shut up in a parlor, where they gave him drink, and placed a purse in his hand.

Bottles of wine and louis d'or form the groundwork of this hind of politics.

The coachman drank and then went to sleep.