THE TURCO OF THE COMMUNE 47

on his horse, and followed the staff.
The streets were full of mad, wild
trumpet-calls, of disordered battalions.
Evidently something extraordinary was
going on . . . the nearer to the quay,
the more distinct was the firing, the
greater the tumult. On the bridge De
la Concorde Kadour lost the staff. A
little farther on they took away his
horse ; it was for a hussar with eight
stripes, in a desperate hurry to see what
was going on at the Hétel de Ville.
Furious, the Turco began to run in the
direction of the fight. Still running
he loaded his chassepot, muttering be-
tween his teeth “szacacho bono, Brissein”
. . . for as far as he knew it must be
the Prussians who were entering the
city. Already the balls whistled round
the obelisk among the trees of the
Tuileries. On the barricade of the
Rue de Rivoli the avengers of Flourens
called out to him: ‘ Hi, Turco, Turco !’
There were only a dozen of them, but
Kadour alone was worth an army.