A Girl of the Commune

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  Arnold Dampierre had moved from his lodgings in the Quartier Latin atthe outbreak of the insurrection, and had taken up his abode in one ofthe streets leading up to Montmartre. There he was in close connectionwith many of the leaders of the Commune, his speeches and his regularattendance at their meetings, his connection with Dufaure, who was thepresident of one of the revolutionary committees, and with his daughter,and the fact that he was an American, had rendered him one of the mostconspicuous characters in the Quarter. He would have been named one ofthe delegates of the Council of the Commune, but he refused the honor,preferring to remain, as he said, "the representative of the greatrepublic across the seas."

  More than once Cuthbert met him as he rode about, but only once did theyspeak. Cuthbert was crossing the square in front of the Hotel de Ville,when he saw Arnold Dampierre. The latter was on foot and did not noticeCuthbert until he was within a few yards of him; as his eye fell on himhe hesitated and then walked on as if about to pass without speaking;Cuthbert, however, held out his hand.

  "Why, Dampierre," he said, "you are not going to cut me, are you? Therehas been no quarrel between us, and the last time we met was when wewere lying next to each other in the ambulance."

  Dampierre took the offered hand. "No, no," he said with nervousquickness, "no quarrel at all, Hartington, but you see we have gonedifferent ways, that is to say, I have gone out of your way, and thoughtthat you would not care to continue the acquaintance."

  "There is no such feeling on my part, I can assure you. There need be noquestion between us as to the part you have taken. I am sorry, but itis no concern of mine, and after living in the same house for a year orso, and having faced death side by side at Champigny, no difference ofpolitical opinion should interfere with our friendship. Besides, youknow," he added with a laugh, "I may want to get you to exert yourinfluence on my behalf. Events are thickening. In troubled times it isalways well to have a friend at court, and if I come to be treated as asuspect, I shall refer to you for a character as a peaceable andwell-intentioned student of art."

  "There is no fear of anything of that sort, Hartington; but should you,by any possibility, get into trouble, you have but to send to me.However, this state of things will not last long, the people are fairlyroused now and will soon sweep the butchers of Versailles before them,and a reign of perfect freedom and equality will be established, and theworld will witness the spectacle of a free country, purging itself fromthe tyranny of capital and the abuse of power, under which it has solong groaned. But I have much to do and must be off," and with a hastyshake of the hand he hurried away again.

  Cuthbert looked after him. "The poor fellow is fast qualifying for amad-house," he said; "he has changed sadly, his cheeks are hollow andhis eyes unnaturally brilliant. Those patches of color on his cheeks aresigns of fever rather than of health. That woman, Minette, isresponsible for this ruin. It must end badly one way or the other; thebest thing that could happen to him would be to fall in one of thesesorties. He has made himself so conspicuous that he is almost certain tobe shot when the troops take Paris, unless, indeed, he becomes an actuallunatic before that. Wound up as he is by excitement and enthusiasm hewill never bring himself to sneak off in disguise, as most of the menwho have stirred up this business will do."

  The time passed quickly enough in Paris, events followed each otherrapidly, there was scarce a day without fighting, more or less serious.Gradually the troops wrested position after position from theCommunists, but not without heavy fighting. The army at Versailles hadswelled so rapidly by the arrival of the prisoners from Germany thateven in Paris, where the journals of the Commune endeavored to keep upthe spirits of the defenders by wholesale lying as to the result of thefighting outside its walls. It was known that at least a hundredthousand men were now gathered at Versailles.

  "There is no doubt of one thing," Cuthbert said, as standing with Maryon the Trocadero, they one day watched the duel, when the guns at Meudonwere replying vigorously to the fire of the forts, "I must modify myfirst opinions as to the courage of the Communists. They have learnt tofight, and allowing for all the exaggeration and bombast of theirproclamations, they now stand admirably; they have more than onceretaken positions from which they have been driven, and although verylittle is said about their losses, I was talking yesterday to a surgeonin one of the hospitals, and he tells me that already they must be asgreat as those throughout the whole of the first siege.

  "They are still occasionally subject to panics. For instance, there wasa bad one the other night when the troops took the Chateau of Becon, andagain at Clamart, but I fancy that is owing to the mistake theCommunists made in forcing men who are altogether opposed to them intotheir ranks. These men naturally bolt directly they are attacked, andthat causes a panic among the others who would have fought had the reststood. Still, altogether, they are fighting infinitely better thanexpected, and at Clamart they fought really well in the open for thefirst time. Before, I own that my only feelings towards the battalionsof beetle-browed ruffians from the faubourgs was disgust, now I ambeginning to feel a respect for them, but it makes the prospect here allthe darker.

  "I have no doubt that as soon as McMahon has got all his batteries intoposition he will open such a fire as will silence the forts and speedilymake breaches in the walls; but the real fighting won't begin till theyenter. The barricades were at first little more than breastworks, butthey have grown and grown until they have become formidablefortifications, and, if stoutly defended, and with every house occupiedby desperate men, it will be terrible work carrying them by assault.However, there are few places where the main defences cannot be turned,for it is impossible to fortify every street. However, if the Communistsfight as desperately as we may now expect, in their despair, the work ofclearing the whole city must occupy many days."

  "It will be very unpleasant in Passy when the batteries on all thoseheights open fire."

  "It would, indeed, if they were to direct their fire in this direction,for they could wipe Passy out altogether in a few hours; but everythingshows that Thiers is anxious to spare Paris itself as much as possible.Not a shot has been fired at random, and scarcely a house has beeninjured. They fire only at the forts and at the batteries on this side,and when they begin in earnest I have no doubt it will be the same. Itwould be a mere waste of shot to fire up there, and if the Versaillespeople were to do unnecessary damage it would bring them into odiumthroughout all France, for it would be said that they were worse thanthe Prussians."

  On the 25th of April, at 8 o'clock in the morning, the long silence ofthe besiegers' batteries ended. Cuthbert was taking his coffee when heheard a sound like the rumble of a heavy wagon. He ran to his window.There was quiet in the street below, for everyone had stopped abruptlyto listen to the roar, and from every window heads appeared. Completinghis dressing hastily, he went out and took the first fiacre he met anddrove to Passy. The rumble had deepened into a heavy roar; the airquivered with the vibrations, and the shriek of the shells mingled withthe deep booming of the guns. When he entered Madame Michaud's, she, herhusband and Mary were standing at the open window.

  "We have just come down from the top of the house," Mary said, "it is agrand sight from there; will you come up, Cuthbert?"

  "Certainly, Mary; you see I was right, and there do not seem to be anyshell coming this way."

  "No. But we were all desperately alarmed, were we not madame, when theybegan."

  "It was enough to alarm one," Madame Michaud said indignantly, "half thewindows were broken, and that was enough to startle one even without thefiring."

  "It was perfectly natural, madame," Cuthbert agreed; "the first shock isalways trying, and even soldiers with seasoned nerves might be excusedfor starting, when such a din as this commenced."

  Cuthbert and Mary went up at once to the roof, where the old gentlemanfrom below had already set up his telescope. He did not need that,however, to observe what was going on. Along almost the whole crest ofth
e eminences round the south and west, heavy guns were playing upon thedefences. From the heights of Chatillon, the puffs of white smoke camethick and fast, the battery at the Chateau of Meudon was hard at work,as were those of Brimborien and Breteuil. Mount Valerien was joining inthe fray, while batteries on the plateau of Villejuif were firing at theforts of Montrouge and Bicetre. Without exception, the greater part ofthe fire was concentrated upon the forts of Issy and Vanves, whileattention was also being paid to the batteries at Point de Jour andPorte Maillot.

  The Communists replied to the fire steadily, although Issy, which camein for by far the largest share of the attentions of the assailants,fired only a gun now and then, showing that it was still tenanted by thedefenders. It was difficult indeed to see how often it replied, for theshell burst so frequently on it that it was difficult to distinguishbetween their flashes and those of its guns. Through the telescope couldbe seen how terrible was the effect of the fire; already the fort hadlost the regularity of its shape, and the earth, with which it had beenthickly covered, was pitted with holes. Presently there was an outburstof firing comparatively close at hand.

  "That is the battery on the Trocadero," one of the party exclaimed. "Ithink that they must be firing at Valerien, I saw several spurts ofsmoke close to it."

  "I hope not," Cuthbert said, "for if Valerien answers, our position herewill not be so pleasant."

  For an hour Valerien disregarded the shells bursting in and around it,and continuing its fire against Issy.

  "That was a good shot," the astronomer said, as he sat with his eyes athis telescope watching the fort. "A shell burst right on one of theembrasures." A minute or two later came a rushing sound, rising rapidlyto a scream; instinctively most of those on the roof ducked their heads.

  "Valerien is waking up," Cuthbert said; "here comes another."

  For an hour Valerien poured its fire upon the battery on the Trocadero,and with so accurate an aim that at the end of that time it was reducedto silence. While the fire was going on, those on the roof went below,for although the precision with which the artillerymen fired was soexcellent that there was but slight danger, the trial to the nerves fromthe rush of the heavy shell was so great that they were glad to leavethe roof and to take their places at the windows below. The danger wasno less, for had a shell struck the house and exploded, it would havewrecked the whole building, but there was some sense of safety indrawing back behind the shelter of the wall as the missiles were heardapproaching.

  To the disappointment of the middle class who still remained in Paris,the bombardment was only partly renewed on the following day, and thenthings went on as before. It was supposed that its effects, great asthey had been on the forts most exposed to it, had not come up to theexpectations of the besiegers, and the telescope showed that the troopswere hard at work erecting a great battery on Montretout, an eminencenear St. Cloud. On the night of the 5th of May the whole of thebatteries opened fire again, and the troops made a desperate effort tocut the force in Issy from communication either with the town or withVanves. The National Guard poured out from the city, and for some hoursthe fighting was very severe, the troops at last succeeding in theirobject; but as soon as they had done so, the guns on the enciente andthose of Vanves opened so tremendous a fire upon them, that they wereforced to abandon the positions they had won.

  At the Railway Station at Clamart there was also heavy fighting; theNational Guard attacked suddenly and in such overwhelming numbers thatafter a short but desperate resistance, the garrison of the station wereforced to retire. Reinforcements were soon brought up, the troops againadvanced and the insurgents were driven out. Their loss during the nightwas put down as a thousand. On the 8th Montretout, which was armed with72 heavy guns, opened fire, the rest of the batteries joined in, and fora couple of hours the din was terrific. The next day Issy was capturedby the troops. They attacked the village at daybreak, and advancingslowly, capturing house by house, they occupied the church andmarketplace at noon. Just as they had done so, a battalion of Insurgentswere seen advancing, to reinforce the garrison of the Fort. They wereallowed to advance to within fifty yards when a heavy volley was pouredinto them. They halted for a moment, but their colonel rallied them. Hewas, however, killed by another volley, when the men at once broke,threw away their arms, and ran back to the city gates. The rest of thevillage was carried with a rush, and when the troops reached the gate ofthe Fort, it was found open. It was at once occupied, the whole of thedefenders having fled, as they saw that the steady advance of the troopswould, if they remained, cut them off from escape. The fall of the Fortwas so unexpected that the batteries on the heights continued to fireupon it for some time after the troops had gained possession.

  The capture of Issy created an immense effect in Paris. General Rosselresigned the command of the insurgent army. He had been a colonel of theengineers, and was an officer of merit, but his political opinions hadproved too much for his loyalty to his country and profession; doubtlesshe had deemed that if, as at first seemed probable, the insurrectionwould be successful and the revolution triumph, he would become itsNapoleon. He now saw the ruin of his hopes; he had forfeited hisposition and his life, and in the proclamation he issued announcing hisresignation he poured out all the bitterness of his disappointment, andtold the Commune his opinion of them, namely, that they were utterlyincapable, without an idea of the principles either of liberty or oforder, and filled only with jealousy and hatred of each other. Soscathing was the indictment, that he was at once arrested, but managedto make his escape.

  The fire from the batteries on the assailants' right, was nowconcentrated upon Vanves, which was evacuated by the insurgents two dayslater. The fall of these forts left the position at Point de Jourunsupported, and indeed the guns remounted at Issy took its defenders inflank, and rendered it impossible for them to work their guns. In theirdespair the Commune now threw off the mask of comparative moderation,and proceeded to imitate to its fullest extent the government of theJacobins. Decrees were passed for the establishment of courts to arrest,try, and execute suspected persons without delay, and under the falsepretence that prisoners taken by the troops had been executed, themurder of the Archbishop of Paris and other priests, who had been takenand thrown into prison as hostages, was decided upon.

  Upon the fall of Issy being known, Cuthbert considered the end to be sonear that it would be better for him to take up his abode permanently atMadame Michaud's. She had been pressing him to do so for some time, asshe and her husband thought that the presence of an English gentlemanthere would conduce to their safety when the troops entered Paris. Hehad indeed spent most of his time there for the last three weeks, buthad always returned to his lodgings at night. He, therefore, packed uphis pictures and his principal belongings and drove with them to Passy.Two days later he met Arnold Dampierre.

  "I am glad to have met you," the latter said, "I have been to our oldplace, and found that you had left. Minette and I are to be marriedto-morrow, a civil marriage, of course, and I should be very glad if youwill be present as a witness. There is no saying who will be alive atthe end of another week, and I should like the marriage to be witnessedby you."

  "I will do so with pleasure, Arnold, though it seems scarcely a time formarrying."

  "That is true, but if we escape we must escape together. If I am killedI wish her to go over to America and live as mistress of my place there,therefore, I shall place in your hands an official copy of the registerof our marriage. Where will she be able to find you after all this isover?"

  Cuthbert gave his address at Madame Michaud's.

  "I don't suppose I shall stay there long after all is finished here," hesaid, "but they will know where to forward any letters to me. Would itnot be better, Arnold, for you to throw up all this at once and returnto your old lodgings, where you may perhaps remain quietly until thesearch for the leaders of this affair relaxes?"

  Arnold shook his head gloomily; "I must go through it to the end. Thecause is a noble one, and it
is not because its leaders are base, and atthe same time wholly incapable men, that I should desert it. Besides,even if I should do so, she would not. No, it is not to be thought of.The marriage will take place at the Mairie of Montmartre, at eleveno'clock tomorrow."

  "I will be there, Arnold." Cuthbert walked slowly back to Passy. He wasshocked at the dismal shipwreck, of what had seemed a bright andpleasant future, of the man of whom he had seen so much for upwards of ayear. Dampierre's life had seemed to offer a fairer chance of happinessand prosperity than that of any other of the students at MonsieurGoude's. He had an estate amply sufficient to live upon in comfort, andeven affluence; and he had artistic tastes that would save him frombecoming, like many southern planters, a mere lounger through life. Hisfatal love for Minette had caused him to throw himself into thisinsurrection, and to take so prominent a part in it that the chance ofhis life being spared, did he fall into the hands of the troops, wassmall indeed; even did he succeed in escaping with Minette his chancesof happiness in the future seemed to Cuthbert to be faint indeed. Withher passionate impulses she would speedily weary of the tranquil andeasy life on a southern plantation, and, with her, to weary was to seekchange, and however that change might come about, it would bring nohappiness to her husband.

  "I am going to see your rival married to-morrow," he said to Mary.

  "What, the model? Don't call her my rival, Cuthbert, it makes me ashamedof myself, even to think that I should have suspected you of caring forthat woman we saw on horseback the other day."

  "Then we will call her your supposed rival, Mary; yes, she is going tobe married to Arnold Dampierre, to-morrow."

  "What a time to choose for it," she said, with a shudder. "In a few daysParis will be deluged with blood, for the Commune boasts that everystreet is mined."

  "We need not believe all that, Mary; no doubt the principal streets havebeen mined, but the Commune have made such a boast of the fact, that youmay be sure the French generals will avoid the great thoroughfares asmuch as possible, and will turn the barricades by advancing along thenarrow streets and lanes; besides, it is one thing to dig mines andcharge them, and quite another thing to explode them at the right momentin the midst of a desperate fight. However, I agree with you that it isa dismal business, but Arnold explained to me that he did it because heand Minette might have to fly together, or, that if he fell, she mightinherit his property. He did not seem to foresee that she too mightfall, which is, to my mind as likely as his own death, for as in formerfights here, the female Communists will be sure to take their place inthe barricades with the men, and, if so, I will guarantee that Minettewill be one of the foremost to do so. The production of female fiendsseem to be one of the peculiarities of French revolutions. As I toldyou, I am going to the wedding in order to sign as a witness; I couldhardly refuse what I regard as the poor fellow's last request, though itwill be a most distasteful business."

  "The last time you spoke to him, you said it struck you that he wasgoing put of his mind."

  "Yes, I thought so and think so still; his manner was changed to-day;before, he had that restless, nervous, excitable look that is theindication of one phase of insanity; to-day there was the gloomy,brooding sort of look that is equally characteristic of another form ofmadness.

  "At the same time that might be well explained by the circumstances, andI have not the same absolute conviction in his sanity that I had before.I suppose you will not care to honor the wedding ceremony by yourpresence."

  "No, no, Cuthbert, not for anything. You cannot think that I should liketo be present at such a ghastly ceremony. I thought the churches wereall shut up."

  "So they are; the marriage is to be a civil one. They will merelydeclare themselves man and wife in the presence of an official; he willenter them as such in a register, and the affair will be over. I wouldnot say so to Arnold, but I have serious doubt whether the Americanauthorities would recognize the ceremony as a legal one, did she everappear there to claim possession. Of course, if he gets away also, itcan be put right by another marriage when they get out, or they can stopfor a few weeks on their way through England, and be married againthere."

  "It is all most horrid, Cuthbert."

  "Well, if you see it in that light, Mary, I won't press you to goto-morrow, and will give up any passing idea that I may have had, thatwe might embrace the opportunity and be married at the same time."

  "It is lucky that you did not make such a proposition to me in earnest,Cuthbert," Mary laughed, "for if you had, I would assuredly have hadnothing more to do with you."

  "Oh, yes, you would, Mary, you could not have helped yourself, and youwould, in a very short time have made excuses for me on the ground of mynatural anxiety to waste no further time before securing my happiness."

  "No one could expect any happiness after being married in that sort ofway. No, sir, when quite a long time on, we do get married, it shall bein a church in a proper and decent manner. I don't know that I mightnot be persuaded to make a sacrifice and do without bridesmaids or evena wedding-breakfast, but everything else must be strictly _en regle_."

  The next morning at the appointed hour, Cuthbert went up to Montmartre.Several men, whose red scarfs showed that they belonged to theGovernment of the Commune were standing outside. They looked with somesurprise at Cuthbert as he strolled quietly up. "I am here, messieurs,to be a witness to the marriage of my friend, Arnold Dampierre."

  The manner of the men instantly changed, and one said, "We are here alsoto witness the marriage of our noble American friend to the daughter ofour colleague, Dufaure. Dampierre is within, Dufaure will be here withhis daughter in a few minutes." Cuthbert passed through and entered theoffice where a Commissary of the Commune was sitting at a table. Arnoldwas speaking to him. He turned as Cuthbert entered.

  "Thank you, Hartington. This is not exactly what I had pictured would bethe scene at my wedding, but it is not my fault that it must be managedthis way, and I intend to have the ceremony repeated if we get safely toEngland. After all, it is but what you call a Gretna Green marriage."

  "Yes, as you say, you can be married again, Arnold, which wouldcertainly be best in all respects, and might save litigation some day.But here they come, I think."

  There was a stir at the door, and Minette and her father entered,followed by the Communists with red scarfs. Arnold also wore one ofthese insignia. Minette was in her dress as a Vivandiere. She held outher hand frankly to Cuthbert.

  "I am glad to see you here, monsieur," she said. "It is good that Arnoldshould have one of his own people as a witness. You never liked me verymuch, I know, but it makes no difference now."

  "Please to take your place," the officer said. Cuthbert stepped back apace. Arnold took his place in front of the table with Minette by hisside, her father standing close to her.

  "There is nothing, Arnold Dampierre," the official asked, "in the lawsof your country that would prevent you making a binding marriage."

  "Nothing whatever. When a man is of age in America he is free tocontract any marriage he chooses without obtaining the consent of anyrelation whatever."

  The official made a note of this. "Martin Dufaure, do you give yoursanction and consent to the marriage of your daughter with ArnoldDampierre, American citizen."

  "I do," the Communist said.

  "Take her hand, Arnold Dampierre."

  "Do you take this woman as your wife?"

  As the words left his lips, there was a pistol-shot. With a low cry,Arnold fell across the table. Cuthbert had turned at the report, and asthe man who had fired, lowered his pistol to repeat the shot, he sprangforward, and struck him with all his weight and strength on the temple.The man fell like a log, his pistol exploding as he did so. With a crylike that of a wounded animal Minette had turned around, snatched adagger from her girdle, and, as the man fell, she sprang to his side andleant over him with uplifted knife. Cuthbert caught her wrist as she wasabout to strike.

  "Do not soil your hand with blood, Minette," he said quietly
as sheturned fiercely upon him. "Arnold would not like it; leave this fellowto justice, and give your attention to him."

  Dropping the knife she ran forward to the table again, two or three ofArnold's colleagues were already leaning over him. Believing that herlover was dead, Minette would have thrown herself on his body, but theyrestrained her.

  "He is not dead, Minette, the wound is not likely to be fatal, he isonly hit in the shoulder."

  "You are lying, you are lying, he is dead," Minette cried, struggling tofree herself from their restraining arms.

  "It is as they say, Minette," her father said, leaning over Arnold,"here is the bullet hole in his coat, it is the same shoulder that wasbroken before; he will recover, child, calm yourself, I order you."

  Minette ceased to struggle, and burst into a passion of tears.

  "You had better send a man to fetch a surgeon at once," Cuthbert said toone of the Communists. "I have no doubt Arnold has but fainted from theshock, coming as it did at such a moment," He then looked at the wound.

  "'Tis not so serious as the last," he said, "by a long way, it is higherand has no doubt broken the collar bone, but that is not a very seriousmatter. I think we had better lay him down on that bench, put a coatunder his head, pour a few drops of spirits between his lips, andsprinkle his face with cold water."

  Cuthbert then went across the room. Several of the Communists werestanding round the fallen man.

  "He is stunned, I think," Cuthbert said.

  "He is dead," one of the men replied. "Your blow was enough to kill anox. It is the best thing for him, for assuredly he would have been hungbefore nightfall for this attempt upon the life of our good Americancolleague."

  Cuthbert stooped down and felt the pulse of the fallen man.

  "I am afraid he is dead," he said, "certainly I had no intention ofkilling him. I thought of nothing but preventing him repeating his shot,which he was on the point of doing."

  "It does not matter in the least," one of the men said, "it is all onewhether he was shot by a bullet of the Versaillais, or hung, or killedby a blow of an Englishman's fist. Monsieur le Commissaire, will youdraw up a proces-verbal of this affair?"

  But the Commissary did not answer; in the confusion no one noticed thathe had not risen from his chair, but sat leaning back.

  "Diable, what is this?" the Communist went on, "I believe the Commissaryis dead." He hurried round to the back of the table. It was as he said,the shot fired as the man fell had struck him in the heart, and he haddied without a cry or a movement.

  "Morbleau," another of the Communists exclaimed, "we came here towitness a comedy, and it has turned into a tragedy."

  An exclamation from Minette, who was kneeling by Arnold, calledCuthbert's attention to her. The American had opened his eyes.

  "What has happened, Minette," he asked, as she laid her head down on hisbreast and burst into another fit of passionate sobbing.

  "You are out of luck, Arnold," Cuthbert said, cheerfully; "a villain hasfired at you, but you have got off this time more lightly than the last,and I think it is nothing more than a broken collar-bone, and that isnot a very serious business, you know; be quiet for a little time; weshall have the surgeon here directly. Of course Minette is terriblyupset, for she thought for a moment that you were killed."

  Arnold lay still, stroking Minette's head gently with his right hand;gradually her sobs ceased, and Cuthbert then left them to themselves.The two bodies had by this time been carried into another room, and oneof the delegates took his seat at the table and drew out a formal reportof the occurrences that had taken place which was signed by the otherspresent and by Cuthbert. A surgeon presently arriving confirmedCuthbert's view that the collar-bone had been broken, and proceeded tobandage it.

  As soon as it was done Arnold stood up unsteadily. "Citizen Rigaud, Ipresume that, as a high official of the Commune, you can replace thecitizen who has fallen and complete the ceremony."

  "Certainly, if it is your wish."

  "It is my wish more even than before."

  "The matter is simple," the delegate said, "my predecessor has alreadyrecorded your answers, there remains but for me to complete theceremony."

  A minute later Arnold Dampierre and Minette were pronounced man andwife, and signed the register, Martin Dufaure, Cuthbert, and the variousdeputies present signing as witnesses. A fiacre had been called up, andwas in readiness at the door. Cuthbert assisted Arnold to take his placein it.

  "If I were you, Arnold," he whispered, "I would go to the old lodgings;of course they are still vacant; if you prefer it, you can take mine, Istill keep them on though I have moved for a time. It will be better foryou in every way not to be up here at Montmartre."

  "Thank you; it would anyhow be quieter. Will you tell the coachman whereto drive?"

  "I will go on the box," Cuthbert said, "of course Dufaure will go withyou." He told the Communist what they had decided on.

  "That will be best," he agreed; "this is not a quiet quarter at present.What with drumming and drinking, it is not a place for a wounded man."

  "You had better go inside with them, and I will go on the box," Cuthbertsaid, "keep Minette talking, it will prevent her breaking down, it hasbeen a terrible shock for her."

  The landlady was heartily glad to see Dampierre back again. Cuthbert andthe Communist assisted the wounded man to bed.

  "I will see about getting things in at present," Cuthbert said, "so donot worry over that, Minette; if everything goes well he will be aboutagain in a few days, but keep him quiet as long as you can, I will comein to-morrow and see how he is getting on."

  After going round to a restaurant and ordering meals to be sent inregularly, with some bottles of wine for Martin Dufaure's benefit,Cuthbert returned to Passy.