A result of this very gay supper-party after the Opéra ball was that Mme. de Guersac and Mr. Allsop became great friends, and that the latter learnt many facts--mingled, perhaps, with not a little fiction--concerning life at the Tuileries. The winter weeks passed very pleasantly for these two congenial spirits, thanks partly to M. de Guersac being somewhere abroad. On January 13 Mme. de Guersac casually told Mr. Allsop that on the next evening the Sovereigns were going to the Opéra. It was an event--a performance for the benefit of M. Massol,[43] and Ristori was appearing. Mr. Allsop remarked that the news had not been given in any of the journals which he had read. Mme. de Guersac rejoined that it was a titbit of information which she had given him.
The news leaked out on the following day, and long before eight o’clock the thoroughfares near the Opéra were thronged. Just as the carriage containing the Emperor and Empress approached the entrance to the theatre an explosion threw the crowd into a panic; it was followed by another, and by a third. Three bombs had been thrown, and they had wrought havoc. A hundred and fifty people were more or less seriously injured. The imperial carriage was partly smashed; one of the horses was killed outright, and another was apparently lifeless. The Emperor escaped with a very slight scratch on one eye. The Empress’s dress was spotted with blood. The coachman and three footmen were badly maimed. One of the twelve Lancers of the Guard forming the escort was killed; all the other troopers suffered from the explosions.
The door on the right-hand side of the imperial carriage opened, and the crowd saw a gentleman in evening dress get out. He seemed to be in some pain; he looked rather frightened; his face was as white as wax. His features were convulsed, the eyes those of a man waking from a nightmare, wondering if his nocturnal visions were real or imaginary; while his hat, almost crushed out of shape, and on the back of his head, gave him a ridiculous appearance. This mixture of two different characters imprinted on his physiognomy made him look like a tragical clown, affected by a sincere chagrin and ready to shed real tears. It was Pierrot haunted by a spectre; it was His Imperial Majesty Napoleon III., Emperor of the French.