Read Education sentimentale. English Page 4

  CHAPTER XIV.

  THE BARRICADE.

  He was abruptly roused from sleep by the noise of a discharge ofmusketry; and, in spite of Rosanette's entreaties, Frederick was fullydetermined to go and see what was happening. He hurried down to theChamps-Elysees, from which shots were being fired. At the corner of theRue Saint-Honore some men in blouses ran past him, exclaiming:

  "No! not that way! to the Palais-Royal!"

  Frederick followed them. The grating of the Convent of the Assumptionhad been torn away. A little further on he noticed three paving-stonesin the middle of the street, the beginning of a barricade, no doubt;then fragments of bottles and bundles of iron-wire, to obstruct thecavalry; and, at the same moment, there rushed suddenly out of a lane atall young man of pale complexion, with his black hair flowing over hisshoulders, and with a sort of pea-coloured swaddling-cloth thrown roundhim. In his hand he held a long military musket, and he dashed along onthe tips of his slippers with the air of a somnambulist and with thenimbleness of a tiger. At intervals a detonation could be heard.

  On the evening of the day before, the spectacle of the wagon containingfive corpses picked up from amongst those that were lying on theBoulevard des Capucines had charged the disposition of the people; and,while at the Tuileries the aides-de-camp succeeded each other, and M.Mole, having set about the composition of a new Cabinet, did not comeback, and M. Thiers was making efforts to constitute another, and whilethe King was cavilling and hesitating, and finally assigned the post ofcommander-in-chief to Bugeaud in order to prevent him from making use ofit, the insurrection was organising itself in a formidable manner, as ifit were directed by a single arm.

  Men endowed with a kind of frantic eloquence were engaged in haranguingthe populace at the street-corners, others were in the churches ringingthe tocsin as loudly as ever they could. Lead was cast for bullets,cartridges were rolled about. The trees on the boulevards, the urinals,the benches, the gratings, the gas-burners, everything was torn off andthrown down. Paris, that morning, was covered with barricades. Theresistance which was offered was of short duration, so that at eighto'clock the people, by voluntary surrender or by force, had gotpossession of five barracks, nearly all the municipal buildings, themost favourable strategic points. Of its own accord, without any effort,the Monarchy was melting away in rapid dissolution, and now an attackwas made on the guard-house of the Chateau d'Eau, in order to liberatefifty prisoners, who were not there.

  Frederick was forced to stop at the entrance to the square. It wasfilled with groups of armed men. The Rue Saint-Thomas and the RueFromanteau were occupied by companies of the Line. The Rue de Valoiswas choked up by an enormous barricade. The smoke which fluttered aboutat the top of it partly opened. Men kept running overhead, makingviolent gestures; they vanished from sight; then the firing was againrenewed. It was answered from the guard-house without anyone being seeninside. Its windows, protected by oaken window-shutters, were piercedwith loop-holes; and the monument with its two storys, its two wings,its fountain on the first floor and its little door in the centre, wasbeginning to be speckled with white spots under the shock of thebullets. The three steps in front of it remained unoccupied.

  At Frederick's side a man in a Greek cap, with a cartridge-box over hisknitted vest, was holding a dispute with a woman with a Madrasneckerchief round her shoulders. She said to him:

  "Come back now! Come back!"

  "Leave me alone!" replied the husband. "You can easily mind the porter'slodge by yourself. I ask, citizen, is this fair? I have on everyoccasion done my duty--in 1830, in '32, in '34, and in '39! To-daythey're fighting again. I must fight! Go away!"

  And the porter's wife ended by yielding to his remonstrances and tothose of a National Guard near them--a man of forty, whose simple facewas adorned with a circle of white beard. He loaded his gun and firedwhile talking to Frederick, as cool in the midst of the outbreak as ahorticulturist in his garden. A young lad with a packing-cloth thrownover him was trying to coax this man to give him a few caps, so that hemight make use of a gun he had, a fine fowling-piece which a "gentleman"had made him a present of.

  "Catch on behind my back," said the good man, "and keep yourself frombeing seen, or you'll get yourself killed!"

  The drums beat for the charge. Sharp cries, hurrahs of triumph burstforth. A continual ebbing to and fro made the multitude sway backwardand forward. Frederick, caught between two thick masses of people, didnot move an inch, all the time fascinated and exceedingly amused by thescene around him. The wounded who sank to the ground, the dead lying athis feet, did not seem like persons really wounded or really dead. Theimpression left on his mind was that he was looking on at a show.

  In the midst of the surging throng, above the sea of heads, could beseen an old man in a black coat, mounted on a white horse with a velvetsaddle. He held in one hand a green bough, in the other a paper, and hekept shaking them persistently; but at length, giving up all hope ofobtaining a hearing, he withdrew from the scene.

  The soldiers of the Line had gone, and only the municipal troopsremained to defend the guard-house. A wave of dauntless spirits dashedup the steps; they were flung down; others came on to replace them, andthe gate resounded under blows from iron bars. The municipal guards didnot give way. But a wagon, stuffed full of hay, and burning like agigantic torch, was dragged against the walls. Faggots were speedilybrought, then straw, and a barrel of spirits of wine. The fire mountedup to the stones along the wall; the building began to send forth smokeon all sides like the crater of a volcano; and at its summit, betweenthe balustrades of the terrace, huge flames escaped with a harsh noise.The first story of the Palais-Royal was occupied by National Guards.Shots were fired through every window in the square; the bulletswhizzed, the water of the fountain, which had burst, was mingled withthe blood, forming little pools on the ground. People slipped in the mudover clothes, shakos, and weapons. Frederick felt something soft underhis foot. It was the hand of a sergeant in a grey great-coat, lying onhis face in the stream that ran along the street. Fresh bands of peoplewere continually coming up, pushing on the combatants at theguard-house. The firing became quicker. The wine-shops were open; peoplewent into them from time to time to smoke a pipe and drink a glass ofbeer, and then came back again to fight. A lost dog began to howl. Thismade the people laugh.

  Frederick was shaken by the impact of a man falling on his shoulder witha bullet through his back and the death-rattle in his throat. At thisshot, perhaps directed against himself, he felt himself stirred up torage; and he was plunging forward when a National Guard stopped him.

  "'Tis useless! the King has just gone! Ah! if you don't believe me, goand see for yourself!"

  This assurance calmed Frederick. The Place du Carrousel had a tranquilaspect. The Hotel de Nantes stood there as fixed as ever; and the housesin the rear; the dome of the Louvre in front, the long gallery of woodat the right, and the waste plot of ground that ran unevenly as far asthe sheds of the stall-keepers were, so to speak, steeped in the greyhues of the atmosphere, where indistinct murmurs seemed to mingle withthe fog; while, at the opposite side of the square, a stiff light,falling through the parting of the clouds on the facade of theTuileries, cut out all its windows into white patches. Near the Arc deTriomphe a dead horse lay on the ground. Behind the gratings groupsconsisting of five or six persons were chatting. The doors leading intothe chateau were open, and the servants at the thresholds allowed thepeople to enter.

  Below stairs, in a kind of little parlour, bowls of _cafe au lait_ werehanded round. A few of those present sat down to the table and mademerry; others remained standing, and amongst the latter was ahackney-coachman. He snatched up with both hands a glass vessel full ofpowdered sugar, cast a restless glance right and left, and then began toeat voraciously, with his nose stuck into the mouth of the vessel.

  At the bottom of the great staircase a man was writing his name in aregister.

  Frederick was able to recognise him by his back.

  "Hallo, Hu
ssonnet!"

  "Yes, 'tis I," replied the Bohemian. "I am introducing myself at court.This is a nice joke, isn't it?"

  "Suppose we go upstairs?"

  And they reached presently the Salle des Marechaux. The portraits ofthose illustrious generals, save that of Bugeaud, which had been piercedthrough the stomach, were all intact. They were represented leaning ontheir sabres with a gun-carriage behind each of them, and in formidableattitudes in contrast with the occasion. A large timepiece proclaimed itwas twenty minutes past one.

  Suddenly the "Marseillaise" resounded. Hussonnet and Frederick bent overthe balusters. It was the people. They rushed up the stairs, shakingwith a dizzying, wave-like motion bare heads, or helmets, or red caps,or else bayonets or human shoulders with such impetuosity that somepeople disappeared every now and then in this swarming mass, which wasmounting up without a moment's pause, like a river compressed by anequinoctial tide, with a continuous roar under an irresistible impulse.When they got to the top of the stairs, they were scattered, and theirchant died away. Nothing could any longer be heard but the tramp of allthe shoes intermingled with the chopping sound of many voices. The crowdnot being in a mischievous mood, contented themselves with looking aboutthem. But, from time to time, an elbow, by pressing too hard, brokethrough a pane of glass, or else a vase or a statue rolled from abracket down on the floor. The wainscotings cracked under the pressureof people against them. Every face was flushed; the perspiration wasrolling down their features in large beads. Hussonnet made this remark:

  "Heroes have not a good smell."

  "Ah! you are provoking," returned Frederick.

  And, pushed forward in spite of themselves, they entered an apartment inwhich a dais of red velvet rose as far as the ceiling. On the thronebelow sat a representative of the proletariat in effigy with a blackbeard, his shirt gaping open, a jolly air, and the stupid look of ababoon. Others climbed up the platform to sit in his place.

  "What a myth!" said Hussonnet. "There you see the sovereign people!"

  The armchair was lifted up on the hands of a number of persons andpassed across the hall, swaying from one side to the other.

  "By Jove, 'tis like a boat! The Ship of State is tossing about in astormy sea! Let it dance the cancan! Let it dance the cancan!"

  They had drawn it towards a window, and in the midst of hisses, theylaunched it out.

  "Poor old chap!" said Hussonnet, as he saw the effigy falling into thegarden, where it was speedily picked up in order to be afterwardscarried to the Bastille and burned.

  Then a frantic joy burst forth, as if, instead of the throne, a futureof boundless happiness had appeared; and the people, less through aspirit of vindictiveness than to assert their right of possession, brokeor tore the glasses, the curtains, the lustres, the tapers, the tables,the chairs, the stools, the entire furniture, including the very albumsand engravings, and the corbels of the tapestry. Since they hadtriumphed, they must needs amuse themselves! The common herd ironicallywrapped themselves up in laces and cashmeres. Gold fringes were rolledround the sleeves of blouses. Hats with ostriches' feathers adornedblacksmiths' heads, and ribbons of the Legion of Honour suppliedwaistbands for prostitutes. Each person satisfied his or her caprice;some danced, others drank. In the queen's apartment a woman gave a glossto her hair with pomatum. Behind a folding-screen two lovers wereplaying cards. Hussonnet pointed out to Frederick an individual who wassmoking a dirty pipe with his elbows resting on a balcony; and thepopular frenzy redoubled with a continuous crash of broken porcelain andpieces of crystal, which, as they rebounded, made sounds resemblingthose produced by the plates of musical glasses.

  Then their fury was overshadowed. A nauseous curiosity made them rummageall the dressing-rooms, all the recesses. Returned convicts thrust theirarms into the beds in which princesses had slept, and rolled themselveson the top of them, to console themselves for not being able to embracetheir owners. Others, with sinister faces, roamed about silently,looking for something to steal, but too great a multitude was there.Through the bays of the doors could be seen in the suite of apartmentsonly the dark mass of people between the gilding of the walls under acloud of dust. Every breast was panting. The heat became more and moresuffocating; and the two friends, afraid of being stifled, seized theopportunity of making their way out.

  In the antechamber, standing on a heap of garments, appeared a girl ofthe town as a statue of Liberty, motionless, her grey eyes wide open--afearful sight.

  They had taken three steps outside the chateau when a company of theNational Guards, in great-coats, advanced towards them, and, taking offtheir foraging-caps, and, at the same time, uncovering their skulls,which were slightly bald, bowed very low to the people. At thistestimony of respect, the ragged victors bridled up. Hussonnet andFrederick were not without experiencing a certain pleasure from it aswell as the rest.

  They were filled with ardour. They went back to the Palais-Royal. Infront of the Rue Fromanteau, soldiers' corpses were heaped up on thestraw. They passed close to the dead without a single quiver of emotion,feeling a certain pride in being able to keep their countenance.

  The Palais overflowed with people. In the inner courtyard seven piles ofwood were flaming. Pianos, chests of drawers, and clocks were hurled outthrough the windows. Fire-engines sent streams of water up to the roofs.Some vagabonds tried to cut the hose with their sabres. Frederick urgeda pupil of the Polytechnic School to interfere. The latter did notunderstand him, and, moreover, appeared to be an idiot. All around, inthe two galleries, the populace, having got possession of the cellars,gave themselves up to a horrible carouse. Wine flowed in streams andwetted people's feet; the mudlarks drank out of the tail-ends of thebottles, and shouted as they staggered along.

  "Come away out of this," said Hussonnet; "I am disgusted with thepeople."

  All over the Orleans Gallery the wounded lay on mattresses on theground, with purple curtains folded round them as coverlets; and thesmall shopkeepers' wives and daughters from the quarter brought thembroth and linen.

  "No matter!" said Frederick; "for my part, I consider the peoplesublime."

  The great vestibule was filled with a whirlwind of furious individuals.Men tried to ascend to the upper storys in order to put the finishingtouches to the work of wholesale destruction. National Guards, on thesteps, strove to keep them back. The most intrepid was a chasseur, whohad his head bare, his hair bristling, and his straps in pieces. Hisshirt caused a swelling between his trousers and his coat, and hestruggled desperately in the midst of the others. Hussonnet, who hadsharp sight, recognised Arnoux from a distance.

  Then they went into the Tuileries garden, so as to be able to breathemore freely. They sat down on a bench; and they remained for someminutes with their eyes closed, so much stunned that they had not theenergy to say a word. The people who were passing came up to them andinformed them that the Duchesse d'Orleans had been appointed Regent, andthat it was all over. They were experiencing that species of comfortwhich follows rapid _denouements_, when at the windows of the attics inthe chateau appeared men-servants tearing their liveries to pieces. Theyflung their torn clothes into the garden, as a mark of renunciation. Thepeople hooted at them, and then they retired.

  The attention of Frederick and Hussonnet was distracted by a tall fellowwho was walking quickly between the trees with a musket on his shoulder.A cartridge-box was pressed against his pea-jacket; a handkerchief waswound round his forehead under his cap. He turned his head to one side.It was Dussardier; and casting himself into their arms:

  "Ah! what good fortune, my poor old friends!" without being able to sayanother word, so much out of breath was he with fatigue.

  He had been on his legs for the last twenty-four hours. He had beenengaged at the barricades of the Latin Quarter, had fought in the RueRabuteau, had saved three dragoons' lives, had entered the Tuilerieswith Colonel Dunoyer, and, after that, had repaired to the Chamber, andthen to the Hotel de Ville.

  "I have come from it! all goes well! the peo
ple are victorious! theworkmen and the employers are embracing one another. Ha! if you knewwhat I have seen! what brave fellows! what a fine sight it was!"

  And without noticing that they had no arms:

  "I was quite certain of finding you there! This has been a bit rough--nomatter!"

  A drop of blood ran down his cheek, and in answer to the questions putto him by the two others:

  "Oh! 'tis nothing! a slight scratch from a bayonet!"

  "However, you really ought to take care of yourself."

  "Pooh! I am substantial! What does this signify? The Republic isproclaimed! We'll be happy henceforth! Some journalists, who weretalking just now in front of me, said they were going to liberate Polandand Italy! No more kings! You understand? The entire land free! theentire land free!"

  And with one comprehensive glance at the horizon, he spread out his armsin a triumphant attitude. But a long file of men rushed over the terraceon the water's edge.

  "Ah, deuce take it! I was forgetting. I must be off. Good-bye!"

  He turned round to cry out to them while brandishing his musket:

  "Long live the Republic!"

  From the chimneys of the chateau escaped enormous whirlwinds of blacksmoke which bore sparks along with them. The ringing of the bells sentout over the city a wild and startling alarm. Right and left, in everydirection, the conquerors discharged their weapons.

  Frederick, though he was not a warrior, felt the Gallic blood leaping inhis veins. The magnetism of the public enthusiasm had seized hold ofhim. He inhaled with a voluptuous delight the stormy atmosphere filledwith the odour of gunpowder; and, in the meantime, he quivered under theeffluvium of an immense love, a supreme and universal tenderness, as ifthe heart of all humanity were throbbing in his breast.

  Hussonnet said with a yawn:

  "It would be time, perhaps, to go and instruct the populace."

  Frederick followed him to his correspondence-office in the Place de laBourse; and he began to compose for the Troyes newspaper an account ofrecent events in a lyric style--a veritable tit-bit--to which heattached his signature. Then they dined together at a tavern. Hussonnetwas pensive; the eccentricities of the Revolution exceeded his own.

  After leaving the cafe, when they repaired to the Hotel de Ville tolearn the news, the boyish impulses which were natural to him had gotthe upper hand once more. He scaled the barricades like a chamois, andanswered the sentinels with broad jokes of a patriotic flavour.

  They heard the Provisional Government proclaimed by torchlight. At last,Frederick got back to his house at midnight, overcome with fatigue.

  "Well," said he to his man-servant, while the latter was undressing him,"are you satisfied?"

  "Yes, no doubt, Monsieur; but I don't like to see the people dancing tomusic."

  Next morning, when he awoke, Frederick thought of Deslauriers. Hehastened to his friend's lodgings. He ascertained that the advocate hadjust left Paris, having been appointed a provincial commissioner. At the_soiree_ given the night before, he had got into contact withLedru-Rollin, and laying siege to him in the name of the Law Schools,had snatched from him a post, a mission. However, the doorkeeperexplained, he was going to write and give his address in the followingweek.

  After this, Frederick went to see the Marechale. She gave him a chillingreception. She resented his desertion of her. Her bitterness disappearedwhen he had given her repeated assurances that peace was restored.

  All was quiet now. There was no reason to be afraid. He kissed her, andshe declared herself in favour of the Republic, as his lordship theArchbishop of Paris had already done, and as the magistracy, the Councilof State, the Institute, the marshals of France, Changarnier, M. deFalloux, all the Bonapartists, all the Legitimists, and a considerablenumber of Orleanists were about to do with a swiftness indicative ofmarvellous zeal.

  The fall of the Monarchy had been so rapid that, as soon as the firststupefaction that succeeded it had passed away, there was amongst themiddle class a feeling of astonishment at the fact that they were stillalive. The summary execution of some thieves, who were shot without atrial, was regarded as an act of signal justice. For a month Lamartine'sphrase was repeated with reference to the red flag, "which had only gonethe round of the Champ de Mars, while the tricoloured flag," etc.; andall ranged themselves under its shade, each party seeing amongst thethree colours only its own, and firmly determined, as soon as it wouldbe the most powerful, to tear away the two others.

  As business was suspended, anxiety and love of gaping drove everyoneinto the open air. The careless style of costume generally adoptedattenuated differences of social position. Hatred masked itself;expectations were openly indulged in; the multitude seemed full ofgood-nature. The pride of having gained their rights shone in thepeople's faces. They displayed the gaiety of a carnival, the manners ofa bivouac. Nothing could be more amusing than the aspect of Paris duringthe first days that followed the Revolution.

  Frederick gave the Marechale his arm, and they strolled along throughthe streets together. She was highly diverted by the display of rosettesin every buttonhole, by the banners hung from every window, and thebills of every colour that were posted upon the walls, and threw somemoney here and there into the collection-boxes for the wounded, whichwere placed on chairs in the middle of the pathway. Then she stoppedbefore some caricatures representing Louis Philippe as a pastry-cook, asa mountebank, as a dog, or as a leech. But she was a little frightenedat the sight of Caussidiere's men with their sabres and scarfs. At othertimes it was a tree of Liberty that was being planted. The clergy viedwith each other in blessing the Republic, escorted by servants in goldlace; and the populace thought this very fine. The most frequentspectacle was that of deputations from no matter what, going to demandsomething at the Hotel de Ville, for every trade, every industry, waslooking to the Government to put a complete end to its wretchedness.Some of them, it is true, went to offer it advice or to congratulate it,or merely to pay it a little visit, and to see the machine performingits functions. One day, about the middle of the month of March, as theywere passing the Pont d'Arcole, having to do some commission forRosanette in the Latin Quarter, Frederick saw approaching a column ofindividuals with oddly-shaped hats and long beards. At its head, beatinga drum, walked a negro who had formerly been an artist's model; and theman who bore the banner, on which this inscription floated in the wind,"Artist-Painters," was no other than Pellerin.

  He made a sign to Frederick to wait for him, and then reappeared fiveminutes afterwards, having some time before him; for the Government was,at that moment, receiving a deputation from the stone-cutters. He wasgoing with his colleagues to ask for the creation of a Forum of Art, akind of Exchange where the interests of AEsthetics would be discussed.Sublime masterpieces would be produced, inasmuch as the workers wouldamalgamate their talents. Ere long Paris would be covered with giganticmonuments. He would decorate them. He had even begun a figure of theRepublic. One of his comrades had come to take it, for they were closelypursued by the deputation from the poulterers.

  "What stupidity!" growled a voice in the crowd. "Always some humbug,nothing strong!"

  It was Regimbart. He did not salute Frederick, but took advantage of theoccasion to give vent to his own bitterness.

  The Citizen spent his days wandering about the streets, pulling hismoustache, rolling his eyes about, accepting and propagating any dismalnews that was communicated to him; and he had only two phrases: "Takecare! we're going to be run over!" or else, "Why, confound it! they'rejuggling with the Republic!" He was discontented with everything, andespecially with the fact that we had not taken back our naturalfrontiers.

  The very name of Lamartine made him shrug his shoulders. He did notconsider Ledru-Rollin "sufficient for the problem," referred to Dupont(of the Eure) as an old numbskull, Albert as an idiot, Louis Blanc as anUtopist, and Blanqui as an exceedingly dangerous man; and when Frederickasked him what would be the best thing to do, he replied, pressing hisarm till he nearly bruised it:

/>   "To take the Rhine, I tell you! to take the Rhine, damn it!"

  Then he blamed the Reactionaries. They were taking off the mask. Thesack of the chateau of Neuilly and Suresne, the fire at Batignolles, thetroubles at Lyons, all the excesses and all the grievances, were justnow being exaggerated by having superadded to them Ledru-Rollin'scircular, the forced currency of bank-notes, the fall of the funds tosixty francs, and, to crown all, as the supreme iniquity, a final blow,a culminating horror, the duty of forty-five centimes! And over andabove all these things, there was again Socialism! Although thesetheories, as new as the game of goose, had been discussed sufficientlyfor forty years to fill a number of libraries, they terrified thewealthier citizens, as if they had been a hailstorm of aerolites; andthey expressed indignation at them by virtue of that hatred which theadvent of every idea provokes, simply because it is an idea--an odiumfrom which it derives subsequently its glory, and which causes itsenemies to be always beneath it, however lowly it may be.

  Then Property rose in their regard to the level of Religion, and wasconfounded with God. The attacks made on it appeared to them asacrilege; almost a species of cannibalism. In spite of the most humanelegislation that ever existed, the spectre of '93 reappeared, and thechopper of the guillotine vibrated in every syllable of the word"Republic," which did not prevent them from despising it for itsweakness. France, no longer feeling herself mistress of the situation,was beginning to shriek with terror, like a blind man without his stickor an infant that had lost its nurse.

  Of all Frenchmen, M. Dambreuse was the most alarmed. The new conditionof things threatened his fortune, but, more than anything else, itdeceived his experience. A system so good! a king so wise! was itpossible? The ground was giving way beneath their feet! Next morning hedismissed three of his servants, sold his horses, bought a soft hat togo out into the streets, thought even of letting his beard grow; and heremained at home, prostrated, reading over and over again newspapersmost hostile to his own ideas, and plunged into such a gloomy mood thateven the jokes about the pipe of Flocon[F] had not the power to make himsmile.

  As a supporter of the last reign, he was dreading the vengeance of thepeople so far as concerned his estates in Champagne when Frederick'slucubration fell into his hands. Then it occurred to his mind that hisyoung friend was a very useful personage, and that he might be able, ifnot to serve him, at least to protect him, so that, one morning, M.Dambreuse presented himself at Frederick's residence, accompanied byMartinon.

  [F] This is another political allusion. Flocon was a well-known memberof the Ministry of the day.--TRANSLATOR.

  This visit, he said, had no object save that of seeing him for a littlewhile, and having a chat with him. In short, he rejoiced at the eventsthat had happened, and with his whole heart adopted "our sublime motto,_Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity_," having always been at bottom aRepublican. If he voted under the other _regime_ with the Ministry, itwas simply in order to accelerate an inevitable downfall. He eveninveighed against M. Guizot, "who has got us into a nice hobble, we mustadmit!" By way of retaliation, he spoke in an enthusiastic fashion aboutLamartine, who had shown himself "magnificent, upon my word of honour,when, with reference to the red flag----"

  "Yes, I know," said Frederick. After which he declared that hissympathies were on the side of the working-men.

  "For, in fact, more or less, we are all working-men!" And he carried hisimpartiality so far as to acknowledge that Proudhon had a certain amountof logic in his views. "Oh, a great deal of logic, deuce take it!"

  Then, with the disinterestedness of a superior mind, he chatted aboutthe exhibition of pictures, at which he had seen Pellerin's work. Heconsidered it original and well-painted.

  Martinon backed up all he said with expressions of approval; andlikewise was of his opinion that it was necessary to rally boldly to theside of the Republic. And he talked about the husbandman, his father,and assumed the part of the peasant, the man of the people. They sooncame to the question of the elections for the National Assembly, and thecandidates in the arrondissement of La Fortelle. The Oppositioncandidate had no chance.

  "You should take his place!" said M. Dambreuse.

  Frederick protested.

  "But why not?" For he would obtain the suffrages of the Extremists owingto his personal opinions, and that of the Conservatives on account ofhis family; "And perhaps also," added the banker, with a smile, "thanksto my influence, in some measure."

  Frederick urged as an obstacle that he did not know how to set about it.

  There was nothing easier if he only got himself recommended to thepatriots of the Aube by one of the clubs of the capital. All he had todo was to read out, not a profession of faith such as might be seenevery day, but a serious statement of principles.

  "Bring it to me; I know what goes down in the locality; and you can, Isay again, render great services to the country--to us all--to myself."

  In such times people ought to aid each other, and, if Frederick had needof anything, he or his friends----

  "Oh, a thousand thanks, my dear Monsieur!"

  "You'll do as much for me in return, mind!"

  Decidedly, the banker was a decent man.

  Frederick could not refrain from pondering over his advice; and soon hewas dazzled by a kind of dizziness.

  The great figures of the Convention passed before his mental vision. Itseemed to him that a splendid dawn was about to rise. Rome, Vienna andBerlin were in a state of insurrection, and the Austrians had beendriven out of Venice. All Europe was agitated. Now was the time to makea plunge into the movement, and perhaps to accelerate it; and then hewas fascinated by the costume which it was said the deputies wouldwear. Already he saw himself in a waistcoat with lapels and atricoloured sash; and this itching, this hallucination, became soviolent that he opened his mind to Dambreuse.

  The honest fellow's enthusiasm had not abated.

  "Certainly--sure enough! Offer yourself!"

  Frederick, nevertheless, consulted Deslauriers.

  The idiotic opposition which trammelled the commissioner in his provincehad augmented his Liberalism. He at once replied, exhorting Frederickwith the utmost vehemence to come forward as a candidate. However, asthe latter was desirous of having the approval of a great number ofpersons, he confided the thing to Rosanette one day, when MademoiselleVatnaz happened to be present.

  She was one of those Parisian spinsters who, every evening when theyhave given their lessons or tried to sell little sketches, or to disposeof poor manuscripts, return to their own homes with mud on theirpetticoats, make their own dinner, which they eat by themselves, andthen, with their soles resting on a foot-warmer, by the light of afilthy lamp, dream of a love, a family, a hearth, wealth--all that theylack. So it was that, like many others, she had hailed in the Revolutionthe advent of vengeance, and she delivered herself up to a Socialisticpropaganda of the most unbridled description.

  The enfranchisement of the proletariat, according to the Vatnaz, wasonly possible by the enfranchisement of woman. She wished to have herown sex admitted to every kind of employment, to have an enquiry madeinto the paternity of children, a different code, the abolition, or atleast a more intelligent regulation, of marriage. In that case everyFrenchwoman would be bound to marry a Frenchman, or to adopt an oldman. Nurses and midwives should be officials receiving salaries from theState.

  There should be a jury to examine the works of women, special editorsfor women, a polytechnic school for women, a National Guard for women,everything for women! And, since the Government ignored their rights,they ought to overcome force by force. Ten thousand citizenesses withgood guns ought to make the Hotel de Ville quake!

  Frederick's candidature appeared to her favourable for carrying out herideas. She encouraged him, pointing out the glory that shone on thehorizon. Rosanette was delighted at the notion of having a man who wouldmake speeches at the Chamber.

  "And then, perhaps, they'll give you a good place?"

  Frederick, a man prone to ever
y kind of weakness, was infected by theuniversal mania. He wrote an address and went to show it to M.Dambreuse.

  At the sound made by the great door falling back, a curtain gaped open alittle behind a casement, and a woman appeared at it He had not time tofind out who she was; but, in the anteroom, a picture arrested hisattention--Pellerin's picture--which lay on a chair, no doubtprovisionally.

  It represented the Republic, or Progress, or Civilisation, under theform of Jesus Christ driving a locomotive, which was passing through avirgin forest. Frederick, after a minute's contemplation, exclaimed:

  "What a vile thing!"

  "Is it not--eh?" said M. Dambreuse, coming in unexpectedly just at themoment when the other was giving utterance to this opinion, and fancyingthat it had reference, not so much to the picture as to the doctrineglorified by the work. Martinon presented himself at the same time. Theymade their way into the study, and Frederick was drawing a paper out ofhis pocket, when Mademoiselle Cecile, entering suddenly, said,articulating her words in an ingenuous fashion:

  "Is my aunt here?"

  "You know well she is not," replied the banker. "No matter! act as ifyou were at home, Mademoiselle."

  "Oh! thanks! I am going away!"

  Scarcely had she left when Martinon seemed to be searching for hishandkerchief.

  "I forgot to take it out of my great-coat--excuse me!"

  "All right!" said M. Dambreuse.

  Evidently he was not deceived by this manoeuvre, and even seemed toregard it with favour. Why? But Martinon soon reappeared, and Frederickbegan reading his address.

  At the second page, which pointed towards the preponderance of thefinancial interests as a disgraceful fact, the banker made a grimace.Then, touching on reforms, Frederick demanded free trade.

  "What? Allow me, now!"

  The other paid no attention, and went on. He called for a tax on yearlyincomes, a progressive tax, a European federation, and the education ofthe people, the encouragement of the fine arts on the liberal scale.

  "When the country could provide men like Delacroix or Hugo with incomesof a hundred thousand francs, where would be the harm?"

  At the close of the address advice was given to the upper classes.

  "Spare nothing, ye rich; but give! give!"

  He stopped, and remained standing. The two who had been listening to himdid not utter a word. Martinon opened his eyes wide; M. Dambreuse wasquite pale. At last, concealing his emotion under a bitter smile:

  "That address of yours is simply perfect!" And he praised the styleexceedingly in order to avoid giving his opinion as to the matter of theaddress.

  This virulence on the part of an inoffensive young man frightened him,especially as a sign of the times.

  Martinon tried to reassure him. The Conservative party, in a littlewhile, would certainly be able to take its revenge. In several citiesthe commissioners of the provisional government had been driven away;the elections were not to occur till the twenty-third of April; therewas plenty of time. In short, it was necessary for M. Dambreuse topresent himself personally in the Aube; and from that time forth,Martinon no longer left his side, became his secretary, and was asattentive to him as any son could be.

  Frederick arrived at Rosanette's house in a very self-complacent mood.Delmar happened to be there, and told him of his intention to stand as acandidate at the Seine elections. In a placard addressed to the people,in which he addressed them in the familiar manner which one adoptstowards an individual, the actor boasted of being able to understandthem, and of having, in order to save them, got himself "crucified forthe sake of art," so that he was the incarnation, the ideal of thepopular spirit, believing that he had, in fact, such enormous power overthe masses that he proposed by-and-by, when he occupied a ministerialoffice, to quell any outbreak by himself alone; and, with regard to themeans he would employ, he gave this answer: "Never fear! I'll show themmy head!"

  Frederick, in order to mortify him, gave him to understand that he washimself a candidate. The mummer, from the moment that his futurecolleague aspired to represent the province, declared himself hisservant, and offered to be his guide to the various clubs.

  They visited them, or nearly all, the red and the blue, the furious andthe tranquil, the puritanical and the licentious, the mystical and theintemperate, those that had voted for the death of kings, and those inwhich the frauds in the grocery trade had been denounced; and everywherethe tenants cursed the landlords; the blouse was full of spite againstbroadcloth; and the rich conspired against the poor. Many wantedindemnities on the ground that they had formerly been martyrs of thepolice; others appealed for money in order to carry out certaininventions, or else there were plans of phalansteria, projects forcantonal bazaars, systems of public felicity; then, here and there aflash of genius amid these clouds of folly, sudden as splashes, the lawformulated by an oath, and flowers of eloquence on the lips of somesoldier-boy, with a shoulder-belt strapped over his bare, shirtlesschest. Sometimes, too, a gentleman made his appearance--an aristocrat ofhumble demeanour, talking in a plebeian strain, and with his handsunwashed, so as to make them look hard. A patriot recognised him; themost virtuous mobbed him; and he went off with rage in his soul. On thepretext of good sense, it was desirable to be always disparaging theadvocates, and to make use as often as possible of these expressions:"To carry his stone to the building," "social problem," "workshop."

  Delmar did not miss the opportunities afforded him for getting in aword; and when he no longer found anything to say, his device was toplant himself in some conspicuous position with one of his arms akimboand the other in his waistcoat, turning himself round abruptly inprofile, so as to give a good view of his head. Then there wereoutbursts of applause, which came from Mademoiselle Vatnaz at the lowerend of the hall.

  Frederick, in spite of the weakness of orators, did not dare to try theexperiment of speaking. All those people seemed to him too unpolished ortoo hostile.

  But Dussardier made enquiries, and informed him that there existed inthe Rue Saint-Jacques a club which bore the name of the "Club ofIntellect." Such a name gave good reason for hope. Besides, he wouldbring some friends there.

  He brought those whom he had invited to take punch with him--thebookkeeper, the traveller in wines, and the architect; even Pellerin hadoffered to come, and Hussonnet would probably form one of the party, andon the footpath before the door stood Regimbart, with two individuals,the first of whom was his faithful Compain, a rather thick-set manmarked with small-pox and with bloodshot eyes; and the second, anape-like negro, exceedingly hairy, and whom he knew only in thecharacter of "a patriot from Barcelona."

  They passed though a passage, and were then introduced into a largeroom, no doubt used by a joiner, and with walls still fresh andsmelling of plaster. Four argand lamps were hanging parallel to eachother, and shed an unpleasant light. On a platform, at the end of theroom, there was a desk with a bell; underneath it a table, representingthe rostrum, and on each side two others, somewhat lower, for thesecretaries. The audience that adorned the benches consisted of oldpainters of daubs, ushers, and literary men who could not get theirworks published.

  In the midst of those lines of paletots with greasy collars could beseen here and there a woman's cap or a workman's linen smock. The bottomof the apartment was even full of workmen, who had in all likelihoodcome there to pass away an idle hour, and who had been introduced bysome speakers in order that they might applaud.

  Frederick took care to place himself between Dussardier and Regimbart,who was scarcely seated when he leaned both hands on his walking-stickand his chin on his hands and shut his eyes, whilst at the other end ofthe room Delmar stood looking down at the assembly. Senecal appeared atthe president's desk.

  The worthy bookkeeper thought Frederick would be pleased at thisunexpected discovery. It only annoyed him.

  The meeting exhibited great respect for the president. He was one who,on the twenty-fifth of February, had desired an immediate organisationof labour. On the f
ollowing day, at the Prado, he had declared himselfin favour attacking the Hotel de Ville; and, as every person at thatperiod took some model for imitation, one copied Saint-Just, anotherDanton, another Marat; as for him, he tried to be like Blanqui, whoimitated Robespierre. His black gloves, and his hair brushed back, gavehim a rigid aspect exceedingly becoming.

  He opened the proceedings with the declaration of the Rights of Man andof the Citizen--a customary act of faith. Then, a vigorous voice struckup Beranger's "Souvenirs du Peuple."

  Other voices were raised:

  "No! no! not that!"

  "'La Casquette!'" the patriots at the bottom of the apartment began tohowl.

  And they sang in chorus the favourite lines of the period:

  "Doff your hat before my cap-- Kneel before the working-man!"

  At a word from the president the audience became silent.

  One of the secretaries proceeded to inspect the letters.

  Some young men announced that they burned a number of the _AssembleeNationale_ every evening in front of the Pantheon, and they urged on allpatriots to follow their example.

  "Bravo! adopted!" responded the audience.

  The Citizen Jean Jacques Langreneux, a printer in the Rue Dauphin, wouldlike to have a monument raised to the memory of the martyrs ofThermidor.

  Michel Evariste Nepomucene, ex-professor, gave expression to the wishthat the European democracy should adopt unity of language. A deadlanguage might be used for that purpose--as, for example, improvedLatin.

  "No; no Latin!" exclaimed the architect.

  "Why?" said the college-usher.

  And these two gentlemen engaged in a discussion, in which the othersalso took part, each putting in a word of his own for effect; and theconversation on this topic soon became so tedious that many went away.But a little old man, who wore at the top of his prodigiously highforehead a pair of green spectacles, asked permission to speak in orderto make an important communication.

  It was a memorandum on the assessment of taxes. The figures flowed on ina continuous stream, as if they were never going to end. The impatienceof the audience found vent at first in murmurs, in whispered talk. Heallowed nothing to put him out. Then they began hissing; they catcalledhim. Senecal called the persons who were interrupting to order. Theorator went on like a machine. It was necessary to catch him by theshoulder in order to stop him. The old fellow looked as if he werewaking out of a dream, and, placidly lifting his spectacles, said:

  "Pardon me, citizens! pardon me! I am going--a thousand excuses!"

  Frederick was disconcerted with the failure of the old man's attempts toread this written statement. He had his own address in his pocket, butan extemporaneous speech would have been preferable.

  Finally the president announced that they were about to pass on to theimportant matter, the electoral question. They would not discuss the bigRepublican lists. However, the "Club of Intellect" had every right, likeevery other, to form one, "with all respect for the pachas of the Hotelde Ville," and the citizens who solicited the popular mandate might setforth their claims.

  "Go on, now!" said Dussardier.

  A man in a cassock, with woolly hair and a petulant expression on hisface, had already raised his hand. He said, with a stutter, that hisname was Ducretot, priest and agriculturist, and that he was the authorof a work entitled "Manures." He was told to send it to a horticulturalclub.

  Then a patriot in a blouse climbed up into the rostrum. He was aplebeian, with broad shoulders, a big face, very mild-looking, with longblack hair. He cast on the assembly an almost voluptuous glance, flungback his head, and, finally, spreading out his arms:

  "You have repelled Ducretot, O my brothers! and you have done right; butit was not through irreligion, for we are all religious."

  Many of those present listened open-mouthed, with the air of catechumensand in ecstatic attitudes.

  "It is not either because he is a priest, for we, too, are priests! Theworkman is a priest, just as the founder of Socialism was--the Master ofus all, Jesus Christ!"

  The time had arrived to inaugurate the Kingdom of God. The Gospel leddirectly to '89. After the abolition of slavery, the abolition of theproletariat. They had had the age of hate--the age of love was about tobegin.

  "Christianity is the keystone and the foundation of the new edifice----"

  "You are making game of us?" exclaimed the traveller in wines. "Who hasgiven me such a priest's cap?"

  This interruption gave great offence. Nearly all the audience got onbenches, and, shaking their fists, shouted: "Atheist! aristocrat! lowrascal!" whilst the president's bell kept ringing continuously, and thecries of "Order! order!" redoubled. But, aimless, and, moreover,fortified by three cups of coffee which he had swallowed before comingto the meeting, he struggled in the midst of the others:

  "What? I an aristocrat? Come, now!"

  When, at length, he was permitted to give an explanation, he declaredthat he would never be at peace with the priests; and, since somethinghad just been said about economical measures, it would be a splendid oneto put an end to the churches, the sacred pyxes, and finally all creeds.

  Somebody raised the objection that he was going very far.

  "Yes! I am going very far! But, when a vessel is caught suddenly in astorm----"

  Without waiting for the conclusion of this simile, another made a replyto his observation:

  "Granted! But this is to demolish at a single stroke, like a masondevoid of judgment----"

  "You are insulting the masons!" yelled a citizen covered with plaster.And persisting in the belief that provocation had been offered to him,he vomited forth insults, and wished to fight, clinging tightly to thebench whereon he sat. It took no less than three men to put him out.

  Meanwhile the workman still remained on the rostrum. The two secretariesgave him an intimation that he should come down. He protested againstthe injustice done to him.

  "You shall not prevent me from crying out, 'Eternal love to our dearFrance! eternal love all to the Republic!'"

  "Citizens!" said Compain, after this--"Citizens!"

  And, by dint of repeating "Citizens," having obtained a little silence,he leaned on the rostrum with his two red hands, which looked likestumps, bent forward his body, and blinking his eyes:

  "I believe that it would be necessary to give a larger extension to thecalf's head."

  All who heard him kept silent, fancying that they had misunderstood hiswords.

  "Yes! the calf's head!"

  Three hundred laughs burst forth at the same time. The ceiling shook.

  At the sight of all these faces convulsed with mirth, Compain shrankback. He continued in an angry tone:

  "What! you don't know what the calf's head is!"

  It was a paroxysm, a delirium. They held their sides. Some of them eventumbled off the benches to the ground with convulsions of laughter.Compain, not being able to stand it any longer, took refuge besideRegimbart, and wanted to drag him away.

  "No! I am remaining till 'tis all over!" said the Citizen.

  This reply caused Frederick to make up his mind; and, as he looked aboutto the right and the left to see whether his friends were prepared tosupport him, he saw Pellerin on the rostrum in front of him.

  The artist assumed a haughty tone in addressing the meeting.

  "I would like to get some notion as to who is the candidate amongst allthese that represents art. For my part, I have painted a picture."

  "We have nothing to do with painting pictures!" was the churlish remarkof a thin man with red spots on his cheek-bones.

  Pellerin protested against this interruption.

  But the other, in a tragic tone:

  "Ought not the Government to make an ordinance abolishing prostitutionand want?"

  And this phrase having at once won to his side the popular favour, hethundered against the corruption of great cities.

  "Shame and infamy! We ought to catch hold of wealthy citizens on theirway out of the Mai
son d'Or and spit in their faces--unless it be thatthe Government countenances debauchery! But the collectors of the citydues exhibit towards our daughters and our sisters an amount ofindecency----"

  A voice exclaimed, some distance away:

  "This is blackguard language! Turn him out!"

  "They extract taxes from us to pay for licentiousness! Thus, the highsalaries paid to actors----"

  "Help!" cried Pellerin.

  He leaped from the rostrum, pushed everybody aside, and declaring thathe regarded such stupid accusations with disgust, expatiated on thecivilising mission of the player. Inasmuch as the theatre was the focusof national education, he would record his vote for the reform of thetheatre; and to begin with, no more managements, no more privileges!

  "Yes; of any sort!"

  The actor's performance excited the audience, and people moved backwardsand forwards knocking each other down.

  "No more academies! No more institutes!"

  "No missions!"

  "No more bachelorships! Down with University degrees!"

  "Let us preserve them," said Senecal; "but let them be conferred byuniversal suffrage, by the people, the only true judge!"

  Besides, these things were not the most useful. It was necessary to takea level which would be above the heads of the wealthy. And herepresented them as gorging themselves with crimes under their gildedceilings; while the poor, writhing in their garrets with famine,cultivated every virtue. The applause became so vehement that heinterrupted his discourse. For several minutes he remained with his eyesclosed, his head thrown back, and, as it were, lulling himself to sleepover the fury which he had aroused.

  Then he began to talk in a dogmatic fashion, in phrases as imperious aslaws. The State should take possession of the banks and of the insuranceoffices. Inheritances should be abolished. A social fund should beestablished for the workers. Many other measures were desirable in thefuture. For the time being, these would suffice, and, returning to thequestion of the elections: "We want pure citizens, men entirely fresh.Let some one offer himself."

  Frederick arose. There was a buzz of approval made by his friends. ButSenecal, assuming the attitude of a Fouquier-Tinville, began to askquestions as to his Christian name and surname, his antecedents, life,and morals.

  Frederick answered succinctly, and bit his lips. Senecal asked whetheranyone saw any impediment to this candidature.

  "No! no!"

  But, for his part, he saw some. All around him bent forward and strainedtheir ears to listen. The citizen who was seeking for their support hadnot delivered a certain sum promised by him for the foundation of ademocratic journal. Moreover, on the twenty-second of February, thoughhe had had sufficient notice on the subject, he had failed to be at themeeting-place in the Place de Pantheon.

  "I swear that he was at the Tuileries!" exclaimed Dussardier.

  "Can you swear to having seen him at the Pantheon?"

  Dussardier hung down his head. Frederick was silent. His friends,scandalised, regarded him with disquietude.

  "In any case," Senecal went on, "do you know a patriot who will answerto us for your principles?"

  "I will!" said Dussardier.

  "Oh! this is not enough; another!"

  Frederick turned round to Pellerin. The artist replied to him with agreat number of gestures, which meant:

  "Ah! my dear boy, they have rejected myself! The deuce! What would youhave?"

  Thereupon Frederick gave Regimbart a nudge.

  "Yes, that's true; 'tis time! I'm going."

  And Regimbart stepped upon the platform; then, pointing towards theSpaniard, who had followed him:

  "Allow me, citizens, to present to you a patriot from Barcelona!"

  The patriot made a low bow, rolled his gleaming eyes about, and with hishand on his heart:

  "Ciudadanos! mucho aprecio el honor that you have bestowed on me!however great may be vuestra bondad, mayor vuestra atencion!"

  "I claim the right to speak!" cried Frederick.

  "Desde que se proclamo la constitution de Cadiz, ese pacto fundamentalof las libertades Espanolas, hasta la ultima revolucion, nuestra patriacuenta numerosos y heroicos martires."

  Frederick once more made an effort to obtain a hearing:

  "But, citizens!----"

  The Spaniard went on: "El martes proximo tendra lugar en la iglesia dela Magdelena un servicio funebre."

  "In fact, this is ridiculous! Nobody understands him!"

  This observation exasperated the audience.

  "Turn him out! Turn him out!"

  "Who? I?" asked Frederick.

  "Yourself!" said Senecal, majestically. "Out with you!"

  He rose to leave, and the voice of the Iberian pursued him:

  "Y todos los Espanoles descarien ver alli reunidas las disputaciones delos clubs y de la milicia nacional. An oracion funebre en honour of thelibertad Espanola y del mundo entero will be prononciado por un miembrodel clero of Paris en la sala Bonne Nouvelle. Honour al pueblo francesque llamaria yo el primero pueblo del mundo, sino fuese ciudadano deotra nacion!"

  "Aristo!" screamed one blackguard, shaking his fist at Frederick, as thelatter, boiling with indignation, rushed out into the yard adjoining theplace where the meeting was held.

  He reproached himself for his devotedness, without reflecting that,after all, the accusations brought against him were just.

  What fatal idea was this candidature! But what asses! what idiots! Hedrew comparisons between himself and these men, and soothed his woundedpride with the thought of their stupidity.

  Then he felt the need of seeing Rosanette. After such an exhibition ofugly traits, and so much magniloquence, her dainty person would be asource of relaxation. She was aware that he had intended to presenthimself at a club that evening. However, she did not even ask him asingle question when he came in. She was sitting near the fire, rippingopen the lining of a dress. He was surprised to find her thus occupied.

  "Hallo! what are you doing?"

  "You can see for yourself," said she, dryly. "I am mending my clothes!So much for this Republic of yours!"

  "Why do you call it mine?"

  "Perhaps you want to make out that it's mine!"

  And she began to upbraid him for everything that had happened in Francefor the last two months, accusing him of having brought about theRevolution and with having ruined her prospects by making everybody thathad money leave Paris, and that she would by-and-by be dying in ahospital.

  "It is easy for you to talk lightly about it, with your yearly income!However, at the rate at which things are going on, you won't have youryearly income long."

  "That may be," said Frederick. "The most devoted are alwaysmisunderstood, and if one were not sustained by one's conscience, thebrutes that you mix yourself up with would make you feel disgusted withyour own self-denial!"

  Rosanette gazed at him with knitted brows.

  "Eh? What? What self-denial? Monsieur has not succeeded, it would seem?So much the better! It will teach you to make patriotic donations. Oh,don't lie! I know you have given them three hundred francs, for thisRepublic of yours has to be kept. Well, amuse yourself with it, my goodman!"

  Under this avalanche of abuse, Frederick passed from his formerdisappointment to a more painful disillusion.

  He withdrew to the lower end of the apartment. She came up to him.

  "Look here! Think it out a bit! In a country as in a house, there mustbe a master, otherwise, everyone pockets something out of the moneyspent. At first, everybody knows that Ledru-Rollin is head over ears indebt. As for Lamartine, how can you expect a poet to understandpolitics? Ah! 'tis all very well for you to shake your head and topresume that you have more brains than others; all the same, what I sayis true! But you are always cavilling; a person can't get in a word withyou! For instance, there's Fournier-Fontaine, who had stores atSaint-Roch! do you know how much he failed for? Eight hundred thousandfrancs! And Gomer, the packer opposite to him--another Republican, thatone--he smashed the t
ongs on his wife's head, and he drank so muchabsinthe that he is going to be put into a private asylum. That's theway with the whole of them--the Republicans! A Republic at twenty-fivepercent. Ah! yes! plume yourself upon it!"

  Frederick took himself off. He was disgusted at the foolishness of thisgirl, which revealed itself all at once in the language of the populace.He felt himself even becoming a little patriotic once more.

  The ill-temper of Rosanette only increased. Mademoiselle Vatnazirritated him with her enthusiasm. Believing that she had a mission,she felt a furious desire to make speeches, to carry on disputes,and--sharper than Rosanette in matters of this sort--overwhelmed herwith arguments.

  One day she made her appearance burning with indignation againstHussonnet, who had just indulged in some blackguard remarks at theWoman's Club. Rosanette approved of this conduct, declaring even thatshe would take men's clothes to go and "give them a bit of her mind, theentire lot of them, and to whip them."

  Frederick entered at the same moment.

  "You'll accompany me--won't you?"

  And, in spite of his presence, a bickering match took place betweenthem, one of them playing the part of a citizen's wife and the other ofa female philosopher.

  According to Rosanette, women were born exclusively for love, or inorder to bring up children, to be housekeepers.

  According to Mademoiselle Vatnaz, women ought to have a position in theGovernment. In former times, the Gaulish women, and also the Anglo-Saxonwomen, took part in the legislation; the squaws of the Hurons formed aportion of the Council. The work of civilisation was common to both. Itwas necessary that all should contribute towards it, and that fraternityshould be substituted for egoism, association for individualism, andcultivation on a large scale for minute subdivision of land.

  "Come, that is good! you know a great deal about culture just now!"

  "Why not? Besides, it is a question of humanity, of its future!"

  "Mind your own business!"

  "This is my business!"

  They got into a passion. Frederick interposed. The Vatnaz became veryheated, and went so far as to uphold Communism.

  "What nonsense!" said Rosanette. "How could such a thing ever come topass?"

  The other brought forward in support of her theory the examples of theEssenes, the Moravian Brethren, the Jesuits of Paraguay, the family ofthe Pingons near Thiers in Auvergne; and, as she gesticulated a greatdeal, her gold chain got entangled in her bundle of trinkets, to whichwas attached a gold ornament in the form of a sheep.

  Suddenly, Rosanette turned exceedingly pale.

  Mademoiselle Vatnaz continued extricating her trinkets.

  "Don't give yourself so much trouble," said Rosanette. "Now, I know yourpolitical opinions."

  "What?" replied the Vatnaz, with a blush on her face like that of avirgin.

  "Oh! oh! you understand me."

  Frederick did not understand. There had evidently been something takingplace between them of a more important and intimate character thanSocialism.

  "And even though it should be so," said the Vatnaz in reply, rising upunflinchingly. "'Tis a loan, my dear--set off one debt against theother."

  "Faith, I don't deny my own debts. I owe some thousands of francs--anice sum. I borrow, at least; I don't rob anyone."

  Mademoiselle Vatnaz made an effort to laugh.

  "Oh! I would put my hand in the fire for him."

  "Take care! it is dry enough to burn."

  The spinster held out her right hand to her, and keeping it raised infront of her:

  "But there are friends of yours who find it convenient for them."

  "Andalusians, I suppose? as castanets?"

  "You beggar!"

  The Marechale made her a low bow.

  "There's nobody so charming!"

  Mademoiselle Vatnaz made no reply. Beads of perspiration appeared on hertemples. Her eyes fixed themselves on the carpet. She panted for breath.At last she reached the door, and slamming it vigorously: "Good night!You'll hear from me!"

  "Much I care!" said Rosanette. The effort of self-suppression hadshattered her nerves. She sank down on the divan, shaking all over,stammering forth words of abuse, shedding tears. Was it this threat onthe part of the Vatnaz that had caused so much agitation in her mind?Oh, no! what did she care, indeed, about that one? It was the goldensheep, a present, and in the midst of her tears the name of Delmarescaped her lips. So, then, she was in love with the mummer?

  "In that case, why did she take on with me?" Frederick asked himself."How is it that he has come back again? Who compels her to keep me?Where is the sense of this sort of thing?"

  Rosanette was still sobbing. She remained all the time stretched at theedge of the divan, with her right cheek resting on her two hands, andshe seemed a being so dainty, so free from self-consciousness, and sosorely troubled, that he drew closer to her and softly kissed her on theforehead.

  Thereupon she gave him assurances of her affection for him; the Princehad just left her, they would be free. But she was for the time beingshort of money. "You saw yourself that this was so, the other day, whenI was trying to turn my old linings to use." No more equipages now! Andthis was not all; the upholsterer was threatening to resume possessionof the bedroom and the large drawing-room furniture. She did not knowwhat to do.

  Frederick had a mind to answer:

  "Don't annoy yourself about it. I will pay."

  But the lady knew how to lie. Experience had enlightened her. Heconfined himself to mere expressions of sympathy.

  Rosanette's fears were not vain. It was necessary to give up thefurniture and to quit the handsome apartment in the Rue Drouot. She tookanother on the Boulevard Poissonniere, on the fourth floor.

  The curiosities of her old boudoir were quite sufficient to give to thethree rooms a coquettish air. There were Chinese blinds, a tent on theterrace, and in the drawing-room a second-hand carpet still perfectlynew, with ottomans covered with pink silk. Frederick had contributedlargely to these purchases. He had felt the joy of a newly-married manwho possesses at last a house of his own, a wife of his own--and, beingmuch pleased with the place, he used to sleep there nearly everyevening.

  One morning, as he was passing out through the anteroom, he saw, on thethird floor, on the staircase, the shako of a National Guard who wasascending it. Where in the world was he going?

  Frederick waited. The man continued his progress up the stairs, with hishead slightly bent down. He raised his eyes. It was my lord Arnoux!

  The situation was clear. They both reddened simultaneously, overcome bya feeling of embarrassment common to both.

  Arnoux was the first to find a way out of the difficulty.

  "She is better--isn't that so?" as if Rosanette were ill, and he hadcome to learn how she was.

  Frederick took advantage of this opening.

  "Yes, certainly! at least, so I was told by her maid," wishing to conveythat he had not been allowed to see her.

  Then they stood facing each other, both undecided as to what they woulddo next, and eyeing one another intently. The question now was, which ofthe two was going to remain. Arnoux once more solved the problem.

  "Pshaw! I'll come back by-and-by. Where are you going? I go with you!"

  And, when they were in the street, he chatted as naturally as usual.Unquestionably he was not a man of jealous disposition, or else he wastoo good-natured to get angry. Besides, his time was devoted to servinghis country. He never left off his uniform now. On the twenty-ninth ofMarch he had defended the offices of the _Presse_. When the Chamber wasinvaded, he distinguished himself by his courage, and he was at thebanquet given to the National Guard at Amiens.

  Hussonnet, who was still on duty with him, availed himself of his flaskand his cigars; but, irreverent by nature, he delighted in contradictinghim, disparaging the somewhat inaccurate style of the decrees; anddecrying the conferences at the Luxembourg, the women known as the"Vesuviennes," the political section bearing the name of "Tyroliens";everythi
ng, in fact, down to the Car of Agriculture, drawn by horses tothe ox-market, and escorted by ill-favoured young girls. Arnoux, on theother hand, was the upholder of authority, and dreamed of uniting thedifferent parties. However, his own affairs had taken an unfavourableturn, and he was more or less anxious about them.

  He was not much troubled about Frederick's relations with the Marechale;for this discovery made him feel justified (in his conscience) inwithdrawing the allowance which he had renewed since the Prince had lefther. He pleaded by way of excuse for this step the embarrassed conditionin which he found himself, uttered many lamentations--and Rosanette wasgenerous. The result was that M. Arnoux regarded himself as the loverwho appealed entirely to the heart, an idea that raised him in his ownestimation and made him feel young again. Having no doubt that Frederickwas paying the Marechale, he fancied that he was "playing a nice trick"on the young man, even called at the house in such a stealthy fashion asto keep the other in ignorance of the fact, and when they happened tomeet, left the coast clear for him.

  Frederick was not pleased with this partnership, and his rival'spoliteness seemed only an elaborate piece of sarcasm. But by takingoffence at it, he would have removed from his path every opportunity ofever finding his way back to Madame Arnoux; and then, this was the onlymeans whereby he could hear about her movements. The earthenware-dealer,in accordance with his usual practice, or perhaps with some cunningdesign, recalled her readily in the course of conversation, and askedhim why he no longer came to see her.

  Frederick, having exhausted every excuse he could frame, assured himthat he had called several times to see Madame Arnoux, but withoutsuccess. Arnoux was convinced that this was so, for he had oftenreferred in an eager tone at home to the absence of their friend, andshe had invariably replied that she was out when he called, so thatthese two lies, in place of contradicting, corroborated each other.

  The young man's gentle ways and the pleasure of finding a dupe in himmade Arnoux like him all the better. He carried familiarity to itsextreme limits, not through disdain, but through assurance. One day hewrote saying that very urgent business compelled him to be away in thecountry for twenty-four hours. He begged of the young man to mount guardin his stead. Frederick dared not refuse, so he repaired to theguard-house in the Place du Carrousel.

  He had to submit to the society of the National Guards, and, with theexception of a sugar-refiner, a witty fellow who drank to an inordinateextent, they all appeared to him more stupid than their cartridge-boxes.The principal subject of conversation amongst them was the substitutionof sashes for belts. Others declaimed against the national workshops.

  One man said:

  "Where are we going?"

  The man to whom the words had been addressed opened his eyes as if hewere standing on the verge of an abyss.

  "Where are we going?"

  Then, one who was more daring than the rest exclaimed:

  "It cannot last! It must come to an end!"

  And as the same kind of talk went on till night, Frederick was bored todeath.

  Great was his surprise when, at eleven o'clock, he suddenly beheldArnoux, who immediately explained that he had hurried back to set him atliberty, having disposed of his own business.

  The fact was that he had no business to transact. The whole thing was aninvention to enable him to spend twenty-four hours alone with Rosanette.But the worthy Arnoux had placed too much confidence in his own powers,so that, now in the state of lassitude which was the result, he wasseized with remorse. He had come to thank Frederick, and to invite himto have some supper.

  "A thousand thanks! I'm not hungry. All I want is to go to bed."

  "A reason the more for having a snack together. How flabby you are! Onedoes not go home at such an hour as this. It is too late! It would bedangerous!"

  Frederick once more yielded. Arnoux was quite a favorite with hisbrethren-in-arms, who had not expected to see him--and he was aparticular crony of the refiner. They were all fond of him, and he wassuch a good fellow that he was sorry Hussonnet was not there. But hewanted to shut his eyes for one minute, no longer.

  "Sit down beside me!" said he to Frederick, stretching himself on thecamp-bed without taking off his belt and straps. Through fear of analarm, in spite of the regulation, he even kept his gun in his hand,then stammered out some words:

  "My darling! my little angel!" and ere long was fast asleep.

  Those who had been talking to each other became silent; and graduallythere was a deep silence in the guard-house. Frederick tormented by thefleas, kept staring about him. The wall, painted yellow, had, half-wayup, a long shelf, on which the knapsacks formed a succession of littlehumps, while underneath, the muskets, which had the colour of lead, roseup side by side; and there could be heard a succession of snores,produced by the National Guards, whose stomachs were outlined throughthe darkness in a confused fashion. On the top of the stove stood anempty bottle and some plates. Three straw chairs were drawn around thetable, on which a pack of cards was displayed. A drum, in the middle ofthe bench, let its strap hang down.

  A warm breath of air making its way through the door caused the lamp tosmoke. Arnoux slept with his two arms wide apart; and, as his gun wasplaced in a slightly crooked position, with the butt-end downward, themouth of the barrel came up right under his arm. Frederick noticed this,and was alarmed.

  "But, no, I'm wrong, there's nothing to be afraid of! And yet, supposehe met his death!"

  And immediately pictures unrolled themselves before his mind in endlesssuccession.

  He saw himself with her at night in a post-chaise, then on a river'sbank on a summer's evening, and under the reflection of a lamp at homein their own house. He even fixed his attention on household expensesand domestic arrangements, contemplating, feeling already his happinessbetween his hands; and in order to realise it, all that was needed wasthat the cock of the gun should rise. The end of it could be pushedwith one's toe, the gun would go off--it would be a mereaccident--nothing more!

  Frederick brooded over this idea like a playwright in the agonies ofcomposition. Suddenly it seemed to him that it was not far from beingcarried into practical operation, and that he was going to contribute tothat result--that, in fact, he was yearning for it; and then a feelingof absolute terror took possession of him. In the midst of this mentaldistress he experienced a sense of pleasure, and he allowed himself tosink deeper and deeper into it, with a dreadful consciousness all thetime that his scruples were vanishing. In the wildness of his reveriethe rest of the world became effaced, and he could only realise that hewas still alive from the intolerable oppression on his chest.

  "Let us take a drop of white wine!" said the refiner, as he awoke.

  Arnoux sprang to his feet, and, as soon as the white wine was swallowed,he wanted to relieve Frederick of his sentry duty.

  Then he brought him to have breakfast in the Rue de Chartres, atParly's, and as he required to recuperate his energies, he ordered twodishes of meat, a lobster, an omelet with rum, a salad, etc., andfinished this off with a brand of Sauterne of 1819 and one of '42Romanee, not to speak of the champagne at dessert and the liqueurs.

  Frederick did not in any way gainsay him. He was disturbed in mind as ifby the thought that the other might somehow trace on his countenance theidea that had lately flitted before his imagination. With both elbows onthe table and his head bent forward, so that he annoyed Frederick by hisfixed stare, he confided some of his hobbies to the young man.

  He wanted to take for farming purposes all the embankments on theNorthern line, in order to plant potatoes there, or else to organise onthe boulevards a monster cavalcade in which the celebrities of theperiod would figure. He would let all the windows, which would, at therate of three francs for each person, produce a handsome profit. Inshort, he dreamed of a great stroke of fortune by means of a monopoly.He assumed a moral tone, nevertheless, found fault with excesses and allsorts of misconduct, spoke about his "poor father," and every evening,as he said, made an examination of
his conscience before offering hissoul to God.

  "A little curacao, eh?"

  "Just as you please."

  As for the Republic, things would right themselves; in fact, he lookedon himself as the happiest man on earth; and forgetting himself, heexalted Rosanette's attractive qualities, and even compared her with hiswife. It was quite a different thing. You could not imagine a lovelierperson!

  "Your health!"

  Frederick touched glasses with him. He had, out of complaisance, drunk alittle too much. Besides, the strong sunlight dazzled him; and when theywent up the Rue Vivienne together again, their shoulders touched eachother in a fraternal fashion.

  When he got home, Frederick slept till seven o'clock. After that hecalled on the Marechale. She had gone out with somebody--with Arnoux,perhaps! Not knowing what to do with himself, he continued his promenadealong the boulevard, but could not get past the Porte Saint-Martin,owing to the great crowd that blocked the way.

  Want had abandoned to their own resources a considerable number ofworkmen, and they used to come there every evening, no doubt for thepurpose of holding a review and awaiting a signal.

  In spite of the law against riotous assemblies, these clubs of despairincreased to a frightful extent, and many citizens repaired every day tothe spot through bravado, and because it was the fashion.

  All of a sudden Frederick caught a glimpse, three paces away, of M.Dambreuse along with Martinon. He turned his head away, for M. Dambreusehaving got himself nominated as a representative of the people, hecherished a secret spite against him. But the capitalist stopped him.

  "One word, my dear monsieur! I have some explanations to make to you."

  "I am not asking you for any."

  "Pray listen to me!"

  It was not his fault in any way. Appeals had been made to him; pressurehad, to a certain extent, been placed on him. Martinon immediatelyendorsed all that he had said. Some of the electors of Nogent hadpresented themselves in a deputation at his house.

  "Besides, I expected to be free as soon as----"

  A crush of people on the footpath forced M. Dambreuse to get out of theway. A minute after he reappeared, saying to Martinon:

  "This is a genuine service, really, and you won't have any reason toregret----"

  All three stood with their backs resting against a shop in order to beable to chat more at their ease.

  From time to time there was a cry of, "Long live Napoleon! Long liveBarbes! Down with Marie!"

  The countless throng kept talking in very loud tones; and all thesevoices, echoing through the houses, made, so to speak, the continuousripple of waves in a harbour. At intervals they ceased; and then couldbe heard voices singing the "Marseillaise."

  Under the court-gates, men of mysterious aspect offered sword-sticks tothose who passed. Sometimes two individuals, one of whom preceded theother, would wink, and then quickly hurry away. The footpaths werefilled with groups of staring idlers. A dense crowd swayed to and fro onthe pavement. Entire bands of police-officers, emerging from the alleys,had scarcely made their way into the midst of the multitude when theywere swallowed up in the mass of people. Little red flags here and therelooked like flames. Coachmen, from the place where they sat high up,gesticulated energetically, and then turned to go back. It was a case ofperpetual movement--one of the strangest sights that could be conceived.

  "How all this," said Martinon, "would have amused Mademoiselle Cecile!"

  "My wife, as you are aware, does not like my niece to come with us,"returned M. Dambreuse with a smile.

  One could scarcely recognise in him the same man. For the past threemonths he had been crying, "Long live the Republic!" and he had evenvoted in favour of the banishment of Orleans. But there should be an endof concessions. He exhibited his rage so far as to carry a tomahawk inhis pocket.

  Martinon had one, too. The magistracy not being any longer irremovable,he had withdrawn from Parquet, so that he surpassed M. Dambreuse in hisdisplay of violence.

  The banker had a special antipathy to Lamartine (for having supportedLedru-Rollin) and, at the same time, to Pierre Leroux, Proudhon,Considerant, Lamennais, and all the cranks, all the Socialists.

  "For, in fact, what is it they want? The duty on meat and arrest fordebt have been abolished. Now the project of a bank for mortgages isunder consideration; the other day it was a national bank; and here arefive millions in the Budget for the working-men! But luckily, it isover, thanks to Monsieur de Falloux! Good-bye to them! let them go!"

  In fact, not knowing how to maintain the three hundred thousand men inthe national workshops, the Minister of Public Works had that very daysigned an order inviting all citizens between the ages of eighteen andtwenty to take service as soldiers, or else to start for the provincesto cultivate the ground there.

  They were indignant at the alternative thus put before them, convincedthat the object was to destroy the Republic. They were aggrieved by thethought of having to live at a distance from the capital, as if it werea kind of exile. They saw themselves dying of fevers in desolate partsof the country. To many of them, moreover, who had been accustomed towork of a refined description, agriculture seemed a degradation; it was,in short, a mockery, a decisive breach of all the promises which hadbeen made to them. If they offered any resistance, force would beemployed against them. They had no doubt of it, and made preparations toanticipate it.

  About nine o'clock the riotous assemblies which had formed at theBastille and at the Chatelet ebbed back towards the boulevard. From thePorte Saint-Denis to the Porte Saint-Martin nothing could be seen savean enormous swarm of people, a single mass of a dark blue shade, nearlyblack. The men of whom one caught a glimpse all had glowing eyes, palecomplexions, faces emaciated with hunger and excited with a sense ofwrong.

  Meanwhile, some clouds had gathered. The tempestuous sky roused theelectricity that was in the people, and they kept whirling about oftheir own accord with the great swaying movements of a swelling sea, andone felt that there was an incalculable force in the depths of thisexcited throng, and as it were, the energy of an element. Then they allbegan exclaiming: "Lamps! lamps!" Many windows had no illumination, andstones were flung at the panes. M. Dambreuse deemed it prudent towithdraw from the scene. The two young men accompanied him home. Hepredicted great disasters. The people might once more invade theChamber, and on this point he told them how he should have been killedon the fifteenth of May had it not been for the devotion of a NationalGuard.

  "But I had forgotten! he is a friend of yours--your friend theearthenware manufacturer--Jacques Arnoux!" The rioters had been actuallythrottling him, when that brave citizen caught him in his arms and puthim safely out of their reach.

  So it was that, since then, there had been a kind of intimacy betweenthem.

  "It would be necessary, one of these days, to dine together, and, sinceyou often see him, give him the assurance that I like him very much. Heis an excellent man, and has, in my opinion, been slandered; and he hashis wits about him in the morning. My compliments once more! A very goodevening!"

  Frederick, after he had quitted M. Dambreuse, went back to theMarechale, and, in a very gloomy fashion, said that she should choosebetween him and Arnoux. She replied that she did not understand "dumpsof this sort," that she did not care about Arnoux, and had no desire tocling to him. Frederick was thirsting to fly from Paris. She did notoffer any opposition to this whim; and next morning they set out forFontainebleau.

  The hotel at which they stayed could be distinguished from others by afountain that rippled in the middle of the courtyard attached to it. Thedoors of the various apartments opened out on a corridor, as inmonasteries. The room assigned to them was large, well-furnished, hungwith print, and noiseless, owing to the scarcity of tourists. Alongsidethe houses, people who had nothing to do kept passing up and down; then,under their windows, when the day was declining, children in the streetwould engage in a game of base; and this tranquillity, following so soonthe tumult they had witnessed in Paris, f
illed them with astonishmentand exercised over them a soothing influence.

  Every morning at an early hour, they went to pay a visit to the chateau.As they passed in through the gate, they had a view of its entire front,with the five pavilions covered with sharp-pointed roofs, and itsstaircase of horseshoe-shape opening out to the end of the courtyard,which is hemmed in, to right and left, by two main portions of thebuilding further down. On the paved ground lichens blended their colourshere and there with the tawny hue of bricks, and the entire appearanceof the palace, rust-coloured like old armour, had about it something ofthe impassiveness of royalty--a sort of warlike, melancholy grandeur.

  At last, a man-servant made his appearance with a bunch of keys in hishand. He first showed them the apartments of the queens, the Pope'soratory, the gallery of Francis I., the mahogany table on which theEmperor signed his abdication, and in one of the rooms cut in two theold Galerie des Cerfs, the place where Christine got Monaldeschiassassinated. Rosanette listened to this narrative attentively, then,turning towards Frederick:

  "No doubt it was through jealousy? Mind yourself!" After this theypassed through the Council Chamber, the Guards' Room, the Throne Room,and the drawing-room of Louis XIII. The uncurtained windows sent forth awhite light. The handles of the window-fastenings and the copper feet ofthe pier-tables were slightly tarnished with dust. The armchairs wereeverywhere hidden under coarse linen covers. Above the doors could beseen reliquaries of Louis XIV., and here and there hangings representingthe gods of Olympus, Psyche, or the battles of Alexander.

  As she was passing in front of the mirrors, Rosanette stopped for amoment to smooth her head-bands.

  After passing through the donjon-court and the Saint-Saturnin Chapel,they reached the Festal Hall.

  They were dazzled by the magnificence of the ceiling, which was dividedinto octagonal apartments set off with gold and silver, more finelychiselled than a jewel, and by the vast number of paintings covering thewalls, from the immense chimney-piece, where the arms of France weresurrounded by crescents and quivers, down to the musicians' gallery,which had been erected at the other end along the entire width of thehall. The ten arched windows were wide open; the sun threw its lustre onthe pictures, so that they glowed beneath its rays; the blue skycontinued in an endless curve the ultramarine of the arches; and fromthe depths of the woods, where the lofty summits of the trees filled upthe horizon, there seemed to come an echo of flourishes blown by ivorytrumpets, and mythological ballets, gathering together under the foliageprincesses and nobles disguised as nymphs or fauns--an epoch ofingenuous science, of violent passions, and sumptuous art, when theideal was to sweep away the world in a vision of the Hesperides, andwhen the mistresses of kings mingled their glory with the stars. Therewas a portrait of one of the most beautiful of these celebrated women inthe form of Diana the huntress, and even the Infernal Diana, no doubt inorder to indicate the power which she possessed even beyond the limitsof the tomb. All these symbols confirmed her glory, and there remainedabout the spot something of her, an indistinct voice, a radiation thatstretched out indefinitely. A feeling of mysterious retrospectivevoluptuousness took possession of Frederick.

  In order to divert these passionate longings into another channel, hebegan to gaze tenderly on Rosanette, and asked her would she not like tohave been this woman?

  "What woman?"

  "Diane de Poitiers!"

  He repeated:

  "Diane de Poitiers, the mistress of Henry II."

  She gave utterance to a little "Ah!" that was all.

  Her silence clearly demonstrated that she knew nothing about the matter,and had failed to comprehend his meaning, so that out of complaisance hesaid to her:

  "Perhaps you are getting tired of this?"

  "No, no--quite the reverse." And lifting up her chin, and casting aroundher a glance of the vaguest description, Rosanette let these wordsescape her lips:

  "It recalls some memories to me!"

  Meanwhile, it was easy to trace on her countenance a strainedexpression, a certain sense of awe; and, as this air of gravity made herlook all the prettier, Frederick overlooked it.

  The carps' pond amused her more. For a quarter of an hour she keptflinging pieces of bread into the water in order to see the fishesskipping about.

  Frederick had seated himself by her side under the linden-trees. He sawin imagination all the personages who had haunted these walls--CharlesV., the Valois Kings, Henry IV., Peter the Great, Jean Jacques Rousseau,and "the fair mourners of the stage-boxes," Voltaire, Napoleon, PiusVII., and Louis Philippe; and he felt himself environed, elbowed, bythese tumultuous dead people. He was stunned by such a confusion ofhistoric figures, even though he found a certain fascination incontemplating them, nevertheless.

  At length they descended into the flower-garden.

  It is a vast rectangle, which presents to the spectator, at the firstglance, its wide yellow walks, its square grass-plots, its ribbons ofbox-wood, its yew-trees shaped like pyramids, its low-lying greenswards, and its narrow borders, in which thinly-sown flowers make spotson the grey soil. At the end of the garden may be seen a park throughwhose entire length a canal makes its way.

  Royal residences have attached to them a peculiar kind of melancholy,due, no doubt, to their dimensions being much too large for the limitednumber of guests entertained within them, to the silence which one feelsastonished to find in them after so many flourishes of trumpets, to theimmobility of their luxurious furniture, which attests by the aspect ofage and decay it gradually assumes the transitory character ofdynasties, the eternal wretchedness of all things; and this exhalationof the centuries, enervating and funereal, like the perfume of a mummy,makes itself felt even in untutored brains. Rosanette yawnedimmoderately. They went back to the hotel.

  After their breakfast an open carriage came round for them. They startedfrom Fontainebleau at a point where several roads diverged, then went upat a walking pace a gravelly road leading towards a little pine-wood.The trees became larger, and, from time to time, the driver would say,"This is the Freres Siamois, the Pharamond, the Bouquet de Roi," notforgetting a single one of these notable sites, sometimes even drawingup to enable them to admire the scene.

  They entered the forest of Franchard. The carriage glided over the grasslike a sledge; pigeons which they could not see began cooing. Suddenly,the waiter of a cafe made his appearance, and they alighted before therailing of a garden in which a number of round tables were placed. Then,passing on the left by the walls of a ruined abbey, they made their wayover big boulders of stone, and soon reached the lower part of thegorge.

  It is covered on one side with sandstones and juniper-trees tangledtogether, while on the other side the ground, almost quite bare, slopestowards the hollow of the valley, where a foot-track makes a pale linethrough the brown heather; and far above could be traced a flatcone-shaped summit with a telegraph-tower behind it.

  Half-an-hour later they stepped out of the vehicle once more, in orderto climb the heights of Aspremont.

  The roads form zigzags between the thick-set pine-trees under rocks withangular faces. All this corner of the forest has a sort of choked-uplook--a rather wild and solitary aspect. One thinks of hermits inconnection with it--companions of huge stags with fiery crosses betweentheir horns, who were wont to welcome with paternal smiles the goodkings of France when they knelt before their grottoes. The warm air wasfilled with a resinous odour, and roots of trees crossed one anotherlike veins close to the soil. Rosanette slipped over them, grewdejected, and felt inclined to shed tears.

  But, at the very top, she became joyous once more on finding, under aroof made of branches, a sort of tavern where carved wood was sold. Shedrank a bottle of lemonade, and bought a holly-stick; and, without oneglance towards the landscape which disclosed itself from the plateau,she entered the Brigands' Cave, with a waiter carrying a torch in frontof her. Their carriage was awaiting them in the Bas Breau.

  A painter in a blue blouse was working at the foot of a
n oak-tree withhis box of colours on his knees. He raised his head and watched them asthey passed.

  In the middle of the hill of Chailly, the sudden breaking of a cloudcaused them to turn up the hoods of their cloaks. Almost immediately therain stopped, and the paving-stones of the street glistened under thesun when they were re-entering the town.

  Some travellers, who had recently arrived, informed them that a terriblebattle had stained Paris with blood. Rosanette and her lover were notsurprised. Then everybody left; the hotel became quiet, the gas was putout, and they were lulled to sleep by the murmur of the fountain in thecourtyard.

  On the following day they went to see the Wolf's Gorge, the Fairies'Pool, the Long Rock, and the _Marlotte_.[G] Two days later, they beganagain at random, just as their coachman thought fit to drive them,without asking where they were, and often even neglecting the famoussites.

  They felt so comfortable in their old landau, low as a sofa, and coveredwith a rug made of a striped material which was quite faded. The moats,filled with brushwood, stretched out under their eyes with a gentle,continuous movement. White rays passed like arrows through the tallferns. Sometimes a road that was no longer used presented itself beforethem, in a straight line, and here and there might be seen a feeblegrowth of weeds. In the centre between four cross-roads, a crucifixextended its four arms. In other places, stakes were bending down likedead trees, and little curved paths, which were lost under the leaves,made them feel a longing to pursue them. At the same moment the horseturned round; they entered there; they plunged into the mire. Furtherdown moss had sprouted out at the sides of the deep ruts.

  [G] The "Overall." The word _Marlotte_ means a loose wrapper worn byladies in the sixteenth century.--TRANSLATOR.

  They believed that they were far away from all other people, quitealone. But suddenly a game-keeper with his gun, or a band of women inrags with big bundles of fagots on their backs, would hurry past them.

  When the carriage stopped, there was a universal silence. The onlysounds that reached them were the blowing of the horse in the shaftswith the faint cry of a bird more than once repeated.

  The light at certain points illuminating the outskirts of the wood, leftthe interior in deep shadow, or else, attenuated in the foreground by asort of twilight, it exhibited in the background violet vapours, a whiteradiance. The midday sun, falling directly on wide tracts of greenery,made splashes of light over them, hung gleaming drops of silver from theends of the branches, streaked the grass with long lines of emeralds,and flung gold spots on the beds of dead leaves. When they let theirheads fall back, they could distinguish the sky through the tops of thetrees. Some of them, which were enormously high, looked like patriarchsor emperors, or, touching one another at their extremities formed withtheir long shafts, as it were, triumphal arches; others, sprouting forthobliquely from below, seemed like falling columns. This heap of bigvertical lines gaped open. Then, enormous green billows unrolledthemselves in unequal embossments as far as the surface of the valleys,towards which advanced the brows of other hills looking down on whiteplains, which ended by losing themselves in an undefined pale tinge.

  Standing side by side, on some rising ground, they felt, as they drankin the air, the pride of a life more free penetrating into the depths oftheir souls, with a superabundance of energy, a joy which they could notexplain.

  The variety of trees furnished a spectacle of the most diversifiedcharacter. The beeches with their smooth white bark twisted their topstogether. Ash trees softly curved their bluish branches. In the tufts ofthe hornbeams rose up holly stiff as bronze. Then came a row of thinbirches, bent into elegiac attitudes; and the pine-trees, symmetrical asorgan pipes, seemed to be singing a song as they swayed to and fro.There were gigantic oaks with knotted forms, which had been violentlyshaken, stretched themselves out from the soil and pressed close againsteach other, and with firm trunks resembling torsos, launched forth toheaven despairing appeals with their bare arms and furious threats, likea group of Titans struck motionless in the midst of their rage. Anatmosphere of gloom, a feverish languor, brooded over the pools, whosesheets of water were cut into flakes by the overshadowing thorn-trees.The lichens on their banks, where the wolves come to drink, are of thecolour of sulphur, burnt, as it were, by the footprints of witches, andthe incessant croaking of the frogs responds to the cawing of the crowsas they wheel through the air. After this they passed through themonotonous glades, planted here and there with a staddle. The sound ofiron falling with a succession of rapid blows could be heard. On theside of the hill a group of quarrymen were breaking the rocks. Theserocks became more and more numerous and finally filled up the entirelandscape, cube-shaped like houses, flat like flagstones, propping up,overhanging, and became intermingled with each other, as if they werethe ruins, unrecognisable and monstrous, of some vanished city. But thewild chaos they exhibited made one rather dream of volcanoes, ofdeluges, of great unknown cataclysms. Frederick said they had been theresince the beginning of the world, and would remain so till the end.Rosanette turned aside her head, declaring that this would drive her outof her mind, and went off to collect sweet heather. The little violetblossoms, heaped up near one another, formed unequal plates, and thesoil, which was giving way underneath, placed soft dark fringes on thesand spangled with mica.

  One day they reached a point half-way up a hill, where the soil was fullof sand. Its surface, untrodden till now, was streaked so as to resemblesymmetrical waves. Here and there, like promontories on the dry bed ofan ocean, rose up rocks with the vague outlines of animals, tortoisesthrusting forward their heads, crawling seals, hippopotami, and bears.Not a soul around them. Not a single sound. The shingle glowed under thedazzling rays of the sun, and all at once in this vibration of light thespecimens of the brute creation that met their gaze began to move about.They returned home quickly, flying from the dizziness that had seizedhold of them, almost dismayed.

  The gravity of the forest exercised an influence over them, and hourspassed in silence, during which, allowing themselves to yield to thelulling effects of springs, they remained as it were sunk in the torporof a calm intoxication. With his arm around her waist, he listened toher talking while the birds were warbling, noticed with the same glancethe black grapes on her bonnet and the juniper-berries, the draperies ofher veil, and the spiral forms assumed by the clouds, and when he benttowards her the freshness of her skin mingled with the strong perfume ofthe woods. They found amusement in everything. They showed one another,as a curiosity, gossamer threads of the Virgin hanging from bushes,holes full of water in the middle of stones, a squirrel on the branches,the way in which two butterflies kept flying after them; or else, attwenty paces from them, under the trees, a hind strode on peacefully,with an air of nobility and gentleness, its doe walking by its side.

  Rosanette would have liked to run after it to embrace it.

  She got very much alarmed once, when a man suddenly presenting himself,showed her three vipers in a box. She wildly flung herself onFrederick's breast. He felt happy at the thought that she was weak andthat he was strong enough to defend her.

  That evening they dined at an inn on the banks of the Seine. The tablewas near the window, Rosanette sitting opposite him, and he contemplatedher little well-shaped white nose, her turned-up lips, her bright eyes,the swelling bands of her nut-brown hair, and her pretty oval face. Herdress of raw silk clung to her somewhat drooping shoulders, and her twohands, emerging from their sleeves, joined close together as if theywere one--carved, poured out wine, moved over the table-cloth. Thewaiters placed before them a chicken with its four limbs stretched out,a stew of eels in a dish of pipe-clay, wine that had got spoiled, breadthat was too hard, and knives with notches in them. All these thingsmade the repast more enjoyable and strengthened the illusion. Theyfancied that they were in the middle of a journey in Italy on theirhoneymoon. Before starting again they went for a walk along the bank ofthe river.

  The soft blue sky, rounded like a dome, leaned at the horizon on theinden
tations of the woods. On the opposite side, at the end of themeadow, there was a village steeple; and further away, to the left, theroof of a house made a red spot on the river, which wound its waywithout any apparent motion. Some rushes bent over it, however, and thewater lightly shook some poles fixed at its edge in order to hold nets.An osier bow-net and two or three old fishing-boats might be seen there.Near the inn a girl in a straw hat was drawing buckets out of a well.Every time they came up again, Frederick heard the grating sound of thechain with a feeling of inexpressible delight.

  He had no doubt that he would be happy till the end of his days, sonatural did his felicity appear to him, so much a part of his life, andso intimately associated with this woman's being. He was irresistiblyimpelled to address her with words of endearment. She answered withpretty little speeches, light taps on the shoulder, displays oftenderness that charmed him by their unexpectedness. He discovered inher quite a new sort of beauty, in fact, which was perhaps only thereflection of surrounding things, unless it happened to bud forth fromtheir hidden potentialities.

  When they were lying down in the middle of the field, he would stretchhimself out with his head on her lap, under the shelter of her parasol;or else with their faces turned towards the green sward, in the centreof which they rested, they kept gazing towards one another so that theirpupils seemed to intermingle, thirsting for one another and eversatiating their thirst, and then with half-closed eyelids they lay sideby side without uttering a single word.

  Now and then the distant rolling of a drum reached their ears. It wasthe signal-drum which was being beaten in the different villages callingon people to go and defend Paris.

  "Oh! look here! 'tis the rising!" said Frederick, with a disdainfulpity, all this excitement now presenting to his mind a pitiful aspect bythe side of their love and of eternal nature.

  And they talked about whatever happened to come into their heads, thingsthat were perfectly familiar to them, persons in whom they took nointerest, a thousand trifles. She chatted with him about her chambermaidand her hairdresser. One day she was so self-forgetful that she told himher age--twenty-nine years. She was becoming quite an old woman.

  Several times, without intending it, she gave him some particulars withreference to her own life. She had been a "shop girl," had taken a tripto England, and had begun studying for the stage; all this she toldwithout any explanation of how these changes had come about; and hefound it impossible to reconstruct her entire history.

  She related to him more about herself one day when they were seated sideby side under a plane-tree at the back of a meadow. At the road-side,further down, a little barefooted girl, standing amid a heap of dust,was making a cow go to pasture. As soon as she caught sight of them shecame up to beg, and while with one hand she held up her tatteredpetticoat, she kept scratching with the other her black hair, which,like a wig of Louis XIV.'s time, curled round her dark face, lighted bya magnificent pair of eyes.

  "She will be very pretty by-and-by," said Frederick.

  "How lucky she is, if she has no mother!" remarked Rosanette.

  "Eh? How is that?"

  "Certainly. I, if it were not for mine----"

  She sighed, and began to speak about her childhood. Her parents wereweavers in the Croix-Rousse. She acted as an apprentice to her father.In vain did the poor man wear himself out with hard work; his wife wascontinually abusing him, and sold everything for drink. Rosanette couldsee, as if it were yesterday, the room they occupied with the loomsranged lengthwise against the windows, the pot boiling on the stove, thebed painted like mahogany, a cupboard facing it, and the obscure loftwhere she used to sleep up to the time when she was fifteen years old.At length a gentleman made his appearance on the scene--a fat man with aface of the colour of boxwood, the manners of a devotee, and a suit ofblack clothes. Her mother and this man had a conversation together, withthe result that three days afterwards--Rosanette stopped, and with alook in which there was as much bitterness as shamelessness:

  "It was done!"

  Then, in response to a gesture of Frederick.

  "As he was married (he would have been afraid of compromising himself inhis own house), I was brought to a private room in a restaurant, andtold that I would be happy, that I would get a handsome present.

  "At the door, the first thing that struck me was a candelabrum ofvermilion on a table, on which there were two covers. A mirror on theceiling showed their reflections, and the blue silk hangings on thewalls made the entire apartment resemble an alcove; I was seized withastonishment. You understand--a poor creature who had never seenanything before. In spite of my dazed condition of mind, I gotfrightened. I wanted to go away. However, I remained.

  "The only seat in the room was a sofa close beside the table. It was sosoft that it gave way under me. The mouth of the hot-air stove in themiddle of the carpet sent out towards me a warm breath, and there I satwithout taking anything. The waiter, who was standing near me, urged meto eat. He poured out for me immediately a large glass of wine. My headbegan to swim, I wanted to open the window. He said to me:

  "'No, Mademoiselle! that is forbidden.'"

  "And he left me.

  "The table was covered with a heap of things that I had no knowledge of.Nothing there seemed to me good. Then I fell back on a pot of jam, andpatiently waited. I did not know what prevented him from coming. It wasvery late--midnight at last--I couldn't bear the fatigue any longer.While pushing aside one of the pillows, in order to hear better, I foundunder my hand a kind of album--a book of engravings, they were vulgarpictures. I was sleeping on top of it when he entered the room."

  She hung down her head and remained pensive.

  The leaves rustled around them. Amid the tangled grass a great foxglovewas swaying to and fro. The sunlight flowed like a wave over the greenexpanse, and the silence was interrupted at intervals by the browsing ofthe cow, which they could no longer see.

  Rosanette kept her eyes fixed on a particular spot, three paces awayfrom her, her nostrils heaving, and her mind absorbed in thought.Frederick caught hold of her hand.

  "How you suffered, poor darling!"

  "Yes," said she, "more than you imagine! So much so that I wanted tomake an end of it--they had to fish me up!"

  "What?"

  "Ah! think no more about it! I love you, I am happy! kiss me!"

  And she picked off, one by one, the sprigs of the thistles which clungto the hem of her gown.

  Frederick was thinking more than all on what she had not told him. Whatwere the means by which she had gradually emerged from wretchedness? Towhat lover did she owe her education? What had occurred in her life downto the day when he first came to her house? Her latest avowal was a barto these questions. All he asked her was how she had made Arnoux'sacquaintance.

  "Through the Vatnaz."

  "Wasn't it you that I once saw with both of them at the Palais-Royal?"

  He referred to the exact date. Rosanette made a movement which showed asense of deep pain.

  "Yes, it is true! I was not gay at that time!"

  But Arnoux had proved himself a very good fellow. Frederick had no doubtof it. However, their friend was a queer character, full of faults. Hetook care to recall them. She quite agreed with him on this point.

  "Never mind! One likes him, all the same, this camel!"

  "Still--even now?" said Frederick.

  She began to redden, half smiling, half angry.

  "Oh, no! that's an old story. I don't keep anything hidden from you.Even though it might be so, with him it is different. Besides, I don'tthink you are nice towards your victim!"

  "My victim!"

  Rosanette caught hold of his chin.

  "No doubt!"

  And in the lisping fashion in which nurses talk to babies:

  "Have always been so good! Never went a-by-by with his wife?"

  "I! never at any time!"

  Rosanette smiled. He felt hurt by this smile of hers, which seemed tohim a proof of indifference.

&nb
sp; But she went on gently, and with one of those looks which seem to appealfor a denial of the truth:

  "Are you perfectly certain?"

  "Not a doubt of it!"

  Frederick solemnly declared on his word of honour that he had neverbestowed a thought on Madame Arnoux, as he was too much in love withanother woman.

  "Why, with you, my beautiful one!"

  "Ah! don't laugh at me! You only annoy me!"

  He thought it a prudent course to invent a story--to pretend that he wasswayed by a passion. He manufactured some circumstantial details. Thiswoman, however, had rendered him very unhappy.

  "Decidedly, you have not been lucky," said Rosanette.

  "Oh! oh! I may have been!" wishing to convey in this way that he hadbeen often fortunate in his love-affairs, so that she might have abetter opinion of him, just as Rosanette did not avow how many loversshe had had, in order that he might have more respect for her--for therewill always be found in the midst of the most intimate confidencesrestrictions, false shame, delicacy, and pity. You divine either in theother or in yourself precipices or miry paths which prevent you frompenetrating any farther; moreover, you feel that you will not beunderstood. It is hard to express accurately the thing you mean,whatever it may be; and this is the reason why perfect unions are rare.

  The poor Marechale had never known one better than this. Often, when shegazed at Frederick, tears came into her eyes; then she would raise themor cast a glance towards the horizon, as if she saw there some brightdawn, perspectives of boundless felicity. At last, she confessed one dayto him that she wished to have a mass said, "so that it might bring ablessing on our love."

  How was it, then, that she had resisted him so long? She could not tellherself. He repeated his question a great many times; and she replied,as she clasped him in her arms:

  "It was because I was afraid, my darling, of loving you too well!"

  On Sunday morning, Frederick read, amongst the list of the wounded givenin a newspaper, the name of Dussardier. He uttered a cry, and showingthe paper to Rosanette, declared that he was going to start at once forParis.

  "For what purpose?"

  "In order to see him, to nurse him!"

  "You are not going, I'm sure, to leave me by myself?"

  "Come with me!"

  "Ha! to poke my nose in a squabble of that sort? Oh, no, thanks!"

  "However, I cannot----"

  "Ta! ta! ta! as if they had need of nurses in the hospitals! And then,what concern is he of yours any longer? Everyone for himself!"

  He was roused to indignation by this egoism on her part, and hereproached himself for not being in the capital with the others. Suchindifference to the misfortunes of the nation had in it somethingshabby, and only worthy of a small shopkeeper. And now, all of a sudden,his intrigue with Rosanette weighed on his mind as if it were a crime.For an hour they were quite cool towards each other.

  Then she appealed to him to wait, and not expose himself to danger.

  "Suppose you happen to be killed?"

  "Well, I should only have done my duty!"

  Rosanette gave a jump. His first duty was to love her; but, no doubt, hedid not care about her any longer. There was no common sense in what hewas going to do. Good heavens! what an idea!

  Frederick rang for his bill. But to get back to Pans was not an easymatter. The Leloir stagecoach had just left; the Lecomte berlins wouldnot be starting; the diligence from Bourbonnais would not be passingtill a late hour that night, and perhaps it might be full, one couldnever tell. When he had lost a great deal of time in making enquiriesabout the various modes of conveyance, the idea occurred to him totravel post. The master of the post-house refused to supply him withhorses, as Frederick had no passport. Finally, he hired an opencarriage--the same one in which they had driven about the country--andat about five o'clock they arrived in front of the Hotel du Commerce atMelun.

  The market-place was covered with piles of arms. The prefect hadforbidden the National Guards to proceed towards Paris. Those who didnot belong to his department wished to go on. There was a great deal ofshouting, and the inn was packed with a noisy crowd.

  Rosanette, seized with terror, said she would not go a step further, andonce more begged of him to stay. The innkeeper and his wife joined inher entreaties. A decent sort of man who happened to be dining thereinterposed, and observed that the fighting would be over in a very shorttime. Besides, one ought to do his duty. Thereupon the Marechaleredoubled her sobs. Frederick got exasperated. He handed her his purse,kissed her quickly, and disappeared.

  On reaching Corbeil, he learned at the station that the insurgents hadcut the rails at regular distances, and the coachman refused to drivehim any farther; he said that his horses were "overspent."

  Through his influence, however, Frederick managed to procure anindifferent cabriolet, which, for the sum of sixty francs, withouttaking into account the price of a drink for the driver, was to conveyhim as far as the Italian barrier. But at a hundred paces from thebarrier his coachman made him descend and turn back. Frederick waswalking along the pathway, when suddenly a sentinel thrust out hisbayonet. Four men seized him, exclaiming:

  "This is one of them! Look out! Search him! Brigand! scoundrel!"

  And he was so thoroughly stupefied that he let himself be dragged to theguard-house of the barrier, at the very point where the Boulevards desGobelins and de l'Hopital and Rues Godefroy and Mauffetard converge.

  Four barricades formed at the ends of four different ways enormoussloping ramparts of paving-stones. Torches were glimmering here andthere. In spite of the rising clouds of dust he could distinguishfoot-soldiers of the Line and National Guards, all with their facesblackened, their chests uncovered, and an aspect of wild excitement.They had just captured the square, and had shot down a number of men.Their rage had not yet cooled. Frederick said he had come fromFontainebleau to the relief of a wounded comrade who lodged in the RueBellefond. Not one of them would believe him at first. They examined hishands; they even put their noses to his ear to make sure that he did notsmell of powder.

  However, by dint of repeating the same thing, he finally satisfied acaptain, who directed two fusiliers to conduct him to the guard-house ofthe Jardin des Plantes. They descended the Boulevard de l'Hopital. Astrong breeze was blowing. It restored him to animation.

  After this they turned up the Rue du Marche aux Chevaux. The Jardin desPlantes at the right formed a long black mass, whilst at the left theentire front of the Pitie, illuminated at every window, blazed like aconflagration, and shadows passed rapidly over the window-panes.

  The two men in charge of Frederick went away. Another accompanied him tothe Polytechnic School. The Rue Saint-Victor was quite dark, without agas-lamp or a light at any window to relieve the gloom. Every tenminutes could be heard the words:

  "Sentinels! mind yourselves!"

  And this exclamation, cast into the midst of the silence, was prolongedlike the repeated striking of a stone against the side of a chasm as itfalls through space.

  Every now and then the stamp of heavy footsteps could be heard drawingnearer. This was nothing less than a patrol consisting of about ahundred men. From this confused mass escaped whisperings and the dullclanking of iron; and, moving away with a rhythmic swing, it melted intothe darkness.

  In the middle of the crossing, where several streets met, a dragoon satmotionless on his horse. From time to time an express rider passed at arapid gallop; then the silence was renewed. Cannons, which were beingdrawn along the streets, made, on the pavement, a heavy rolling soundthat seemed full of menace--a sound different from every ordinarysound--which oppressed the heart. The sounds was profound, unlimited--ablack silence. Men in white blouses accosted the soldiers, spoke one ortwo words to them, and then vanished like phantoms.

  The guard-house of the Polytechnic School overflowed with people. Thethreshold was blocked up with women, who had come to see their sons ortheir husbands. They were sent on to the Pantheon, which had beentransformed in
to a dead-house; and no attention was paid to Frederick.He pressed forward resolutely, solemnly declaring that his friendDussardier was waiting for him, that he was at death's door. At lastthey sent a corporal to accompany him to the top of the RueSaint-Jacques, to the Mayor's office in the twelfth arrondissement.

  The Place du Pantheon was filled with soldiers lying asleep on straw.The day was breaking; the bivouac-fires were extinguished.

  The insurrection had left terrible traces in this quarter. The soil ofthe streets, from one end to the other, was covered with risings ofvarious sizes. On the wrecked barricades had been piled up omnibuses,gas-pipes, and cart-wheels. In certain places there were little darkpools, which must have been blood. The houses were riddled withprojectiles, and their framework could be seen under the plaster thatwas peeled off. Window-blinds, each attached only by a single nail, hunglike rags. The staircases having fallen in, doors opened on vacancy. Theinteriors of rooms could be perceived with their papers in strips. Insome instances dainty objects had remained in them quite intact.Frederick noticed a timepiece, a parrot-stick, and some engravings.

  When he entered the Mayor's office, the National Guards were chatteringwithout a moment's pause about the deaths of Brea and Negrier, aboutthe deputy Charbonnel, and about the Archbishop of Paris. He heard themsaying that the Duc d'Aumale had landed at Boulogne, that Barbes hadfled from Vincennes, that the artillery were coming up from Bourges, andthat abundant aid was arriving from the provinces. About three o'clocksome one brought good news.

  Truce-bearers from the insurgents were in conference with the Presidentof the Assembly.

  Thereupon they all made merry; and as he had a dozen francs left,Frederick sent for a dozen bottles of wine, hoping by this means tohasten his deliverance. Suddenly a discharge of musketry was heard. Thedrinking stopped. They peered with distrustful eyes into the unknown--itmight be Henry V.

  In order to get rid of responsibility, they took Frederick to theMayor's office in the eleventh arrondissement, which he was notpermitted to leave till nine o'clock in the morning.

  He started at a running pace from the Quai Voltaire. At an open windowan old man in his shirt-sleeves was crying, with his eyes raised. TheSeine glided peacefully along. The sky was of a clear blue; and in thetrees round the Tuileries birds were singing.

  Frederick was just crossing the Place du Carrousel when a litterhappened to be passing by. The soldiers at the guard-house immediatelypresented arms; and the officer, putting his hand to his shako, said:"Honour to unfortunate bravery!" This phrase seemed to have almostbecome a matter of duty. He who pronounced it appeared to be, on eachoccasion, filled with profound emotion. A group of people in a state offierce excitement followed the litter, exclaiming:

  "We will avenge you! we will avenge you!"

  The vehicles kept moving about on the boulevard, and women were makinglint before the doors. Meanwhile, the outbreak had been quelled, or verynearly so. A proclamation from Cavaignac, just posted up, announced thefact. At the top of the Rue Vivienne, a company of the Garde Mobileappeared. Then the citizens uttered cries of enthusiasm. They raisedtheir hats, applauded, danced, wished to embrace them, and to invitethem to drink; and flowers, flung by ladies, fell from the balconies.

  At last, at ten o'clock, at the moment when the cannon was booming as anattack was being made on the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, Frederick reachedthe abode of Dussardier. He found the bookkeeper in his garret, lyingasleep on his back. From the adjoining apartment a woman came forth withsilent tread--Mademoiselle Vatnaz.

  She led Frederick aside and explained to him how Dussardier had gotwounded.

  On Saturday, on the top of a barricade in the Rue Lafayette, a youngfellow wrapped in a tricoloured flag cried out to the National Guards:"Are you going to shoot your brothers?" As they advanced, Dussardierthrew down his gun, pushed away the others, sprang over the barricade,and, with a blow of an old shoe, knocked down the insurgent, from whomhe tore the flag. He had afterwards been found under a heap of rubbishwith a slug of copper in his thigh. It was found necessary to make anincision in order to extract the projectile. Mademoiselle Vatnazarrived the same evening, and since then had not quitted his side.

  She intelligently prepared everything that was needed for the dressings,assisted him in taking his medicine or other liquids, attended to hisslightest wishes, left and returned again with footsteps more light thanthose of a fly, and gazed at him with eyes full of tenderness.

  Frederick, during the two following weeks, did not fail to come backevery morning. One day, while he was speaking about the devotion of theVatnaz, Dussardier shrugged his shoulders:

  "Oh! no! she does this through interested motives."

  "Do you think so?"

  He replied: "I am sure of it!" without seeming disposed to give anyfurther explanation.

  She had loaded him with kindnesses, carrying her attentions so far as tobring him the newspapers in which his gallant action was extolled. Heeven confessed to Frederick that he felt uneasy in his conscience.

  Perhaps he ought to have put himself on the other side with the men inblouses; for, indeed, a heap of promises had been made to them which hadnot been carried out. Those who had vanquished them hated the Republic;and, in the next place, they had treated them very harshly. No doubtthey were in the wrong--not quite, however; and the honest fellow wastormented by the thought that he might have fought against the righteouscause. Senecal, who was immured in the Tuileries, under the terrace atthe water's edge, had none of this mental anguish.

  There were nine hundred men in the place, huddled together in the midstof filth, without the slightest order, their faces blackened with powderand clotted blood, shivering with ague and breaking out into cries ofrage, and those who were brought there to die were not separated fromthe rest. Sometimes, on hearing the sound of a detonation, they believedthat they were all going to be shot. Then they dashed themselves againstthe walls, and after that fell back again into their places, so muchstupefied by suffering that it seemed to them that they were living in anightmare, a mournful hallucination. The lamp, which hung from thearched roof, looked like a stain of blood, and little green and yellowflames fluttered about, caused by the emanations from the vault. Throughfear of epidemics, a commission was appointed. When he had advanced afew steps, the President recoiled, frightened by the stench from theexcrements and from the corpses.

  As soon as the prisoners drew near a vent-hole, the National Guards whowere on sentry, in order to prevent them from shaking the bars of thegrating, prodded them indiscriminately with their bayonets.

  As a rule they showed no pity. Those who were not beaten wished tosignalise themselves. There was a regular outbreak of fear. They avengedthemselves at the same time on newspapers, clubs, mobs,speech-making--everything that had exasperated them during the lastthree months, and in spite of the victory that had been gained, equality(as if for the punishment of its defenders and the exposure of itsenemies to ridicule) manifested itself in a triumphal fashion--anequality of brute beasts, a dead level of sanguinary vileness; for thefanaticism of self-interest balanced the madness of want, aristocracyhad the same fits of fury as low debauchery, and the cotton cap did notshow itself less hideous than the red cap. The public mind was agitatedjust as it would be after great convulsions of nature. Sensible men wererendered imbeciles for the rest of their lives on account of it.

  Pere Roque had become very courageous, almost foolhardy. Having arrivedon the 26th at Paris with some of the inhabitants of Nogent, instead ofgoing back at the same time with them, he had gone to give hisassistance to the National Guard encamped at the Tuileries; and he wasquite satisfied to be placed on sentry in front of the terrace at thewater's side. There, at any rate, he had these brigands under his feet!He was delighted to find that they were beaten and humiliated, and hecould not refrain from uttering invectives against them.

  One of them, a young lad with long fair hair, put his face to the bars,and asked for bread. M. Roque ordered him to hold his tongue. Bu
t theyoung man repeated in a mournful tone:

  "Bread!"

  "Have I any to give you?"

  Other prisoners presented themselves at the vent-hole, with theirbristling beards, their burning eyeballs, all pushing forward, andyelling:

  "Bread!"

  Pere Roque was indignant at seeing his authority slighted. In order tofrighten them he took aim at them; and, borne onward into the vault bythe crush that nearly smothered him, the young man, with his head thrownbackward, once more exclaimed:

  "Bread!"

  "Hold on! here it is!" said Pere Roque, firing a shot from his gun.There was a fearful howl--then, silence. At the side of the troughsomething white could be seen lying.

  After this, M. Roque returned to his abode, for he had a house in theRue Saint-Martin, which he used as a temporary residence; and the injurydone to the front of the building during the riots had in no slightdegree contributed to excite his rage. It seemed to him, when he nextsaw it, that he had exaggerated the amount of damage done to it. Hisrecent act had a soothing effect on him, as if it indemnified him forhis loss.

  It was his daughter herself who opened the door for him. She immediatelymade the remark that she had felt uneasy at his excessively prolongedabsence. She was afraid that he had met with some misfortune--that hehad been wounded.

  This manifestation of filial love softened Pere Roque. He was astonishedthat she should have set out on a journey without Catherine.

  "I sent her out on a message," was Louise's reply.

  And she made enquiries about his health, about one thing or another;then, with an air of indifference, she asked him whether he had chancedto come across Frederick:

  "No; I didn't see him!"

  It was on his account alone that she had come up from the country.

  Some one was walking at that moment in the lobby.

  "Oh! excuse me----"

  And she disappeared.

  Catherine had not found Frederick. He had been several days away, andhis intimate friend, M. Deslauriers, was now living in the provinces.

  Louise once more presented herself, shaking all over, without being ableto utter a word. She leaned against the furniture.

  "What's the matter with you? Tell me--what's the matter with you?"exclaimed her father.

  She indicated by a wave of her hand that it was nothing, and with agreat effort of will she regained her composure.

  The keeper of the restaurant at the opposite side of the street broughtthem soup. But Pere Roque had passed through too exciting an ordeal tobe able to control his emotions. "He is not likely to die;" and atdessert he had a sort of fainting fit. A doctor was at once sent for,and he prescribed a potion. Then, when M. Roque was in bed, he asked tobe as well wrapped up as possible in order to bring on perspiration. Hegasped; he moaned.

  "Thanks, my good Catherine! Kiss your poor father, my chicken! Ah! thoserevolutions!"

  And, when his daughter scolded him for having made himself ill bytormenting his mind on her account, he replied:

  "Yes! you are right! But I couldn't help it! I am too sensitive!"