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/
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
\
1
/
7
I V *
A WOMAN
OF THE
COMMUNE
A TALE OF TWO SIEGES OF PARIS
BY
G. A. HENTY
Author of
1 In the Days of the Mutiny? * The Curse of Carne's Hold?
1 Dorothy's Double? Etc., Etc.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY HAL HURST
LONDON
F. V. WHITE & CO.
14 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, IV.
1896
sfr.f I chil-
is fi
"''V5
C^r a > C
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGB
1
CHAPTER II . .
12
CHAPTER III
24
CHAPTER IV .
37
CHAPTER V
49
CHAPTER VI
58
CHAPTER VH .
70
CHAPTER Vin .
79
CHAPTER IX
91
CHAPTER X
102
CHAPTER XI
112
CHAPTER Xn .
123
CHAPTER XIII .
134
CHAPTER XIV .
146
CHAPTER XV .
158
CHAPTER XVI .
170
VI
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX .
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
PACE
182
193
208
222
237
247
259
272
283
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
BY
HAL HURST
PACE
Vive la Commune .... Frontispiece 288
He did not RKO0ONI8E Heb fob a Moment 15
CUTHBEBT STOOD STILL FOB A MOMENT, PBEPABED TO
8TBIKE AGAIN IF THE MAN B08E ... 86
OaBBYINO HeBBET.F WITH THE AlB OF A TOUNO AMAZON . 105
Mabt Bbandeb was lying Insensible on the Ground 153
This Time the Answeb was not '• No ! " . 195
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
CHAPTER I
Jeremiah Brandeb was one of the most prominent personages
in the cathedral town of Abchester. He inhabited an old-
fashioned, red brick house near the end of the High Street.
On either side was a high wall facing the street, and from this
a garden, enclosing the house, stretched away to a little stream
some two hundred yards in the rear ; so that the house com-
bined the advantage of a business residence in front with
those of seclusion, an excellent garden, and an uninterrupted
view behind.
Jeremiah Brander enjoyed in a very large degree the confi-
dence and respect of his fellow-townsmen. His father and his
grandfather had been, like himself, solicitors, and he numbered
among his clients most of the county families round. Smaller
business he left to the three younger men who divided between
them the minor legal business of the place. He in no way
regarded them as rivals, and always spoke of them benevo-
lently as worthy men to whom all such business as the collec-
tion of debts, criminal prosecutions, and such matters as the
buying and selling of houses in the town, could be safely
entrusted. As for himself, he preferred to attend only to
business in his own line, and he seldom accepted fresh clients,
never, indeed, until a new-comer had taken his place among
the accepted society of the county.
In the public business of the city, however, he played a
very important part. He was town clerk, treasurer of several
societies, solicitor to the Abchester County and City Bank,
legal adviser of the cathedral authorities, deacon of the prin-
cipal church, city alderman, president of the musical society,
treasurer of the hospital, a director of the gas company, and
was, in fact, ready at all times to take a prominent part in
any movement in the place.
A
2 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
He was a man of some fifty years of age, inclined to be
stout, somewhat florid in complexion, and always dressed with
scrupulous care. There was nothing about him to indicate
that he belonged to the legal profession. His talk, as a rule,
was genial and almost cheery, but his manner varied according
to the circumstances. In his capacity as treasurer he was con-
cise and business-like ; in matters connected with the Church
he was a little given to be dogmatic, which, considering the
liberality of his subscriptions to all the Church objects and
charities, was but natural.
As president of the musical society he was full of tact and
acted the part of general conciliator in all the numerous
squabbles, jealousies and heart-burnings incidental to such
associations. In every one of the numerous offices he filled
he gave unbounded satisfaction, and the only regret among
his fellow-townsmen was that he had on three occasions re-
fused to accept the honour of the Mayoralty, alleging, and with
a fair show of reason, that although ready at all times to aid to
the utmost in any movement set afoot for the advantage of
the city, it was impossible for him to spare the time required
to perform properly the duties of Mayor.
Jeremiah Brander had married the daughter of a gentle-
man of an old county family which had fallen somewhat in
circumstances. It was rumoured at the time that he bad lent
some assistance to the head of the family, and that the match
was scarcely a willing one on the lady's part. However that
might be, no whisper had ever been heard that the marriage
was an unhappy one. It was regarded as rather a come down
for her, but, if so, she never showed that she felt it as a fall.
The marriage had certainly improved his standing in the
county. His wife formed a sort of link between him and his
clients, and he occupied a considerably better position among
them than his father had done, being generally accepted as a
friend as well as a legal adviser.
It is not to be supposed that so successful a man had no
detractors. One of his legal brethren had been heard to speak
of him contemptuously as a humbug. A medical practitioner
who had failed to obtain the post of house surgeon at the
hospital owing to the support the president had given to
another competitor for the post, had alluded to him bitterly
as a blatant ass ; and a leading publican, who had been fined
before the magistrates for diluting his spirits, was in the habit
of darkly uttering his opinion that Jerry Brander was a deep
card and up to no good.
© i
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 3
But as every great man has bis enemies, the opinion of a
few malcontents went for nothing in tbe general concensus of
•admiration for one who was generally regarded as among the
pillars of Abchester society, and an honour to the city.
" It is high time you did something, Jerry," his wife said
to him one morning after their three daughters had left the
breakfast-table.
" In what way, Eliza ? " Mr Brander said, looking up from
his newspaper ; " it seems to me I do a good deal."
"You know what I mean," she said, sharply. "You
know you promised me a hundred times that you would give
up all this miserable business and settle down in the county
The girls are growing up ; Mary has just left Girton and is of
•an age to go into society."
" She may be of «ge," Mr Brander said, with an irritability
unusual to him, " but it strikes me that society is the last
thing she is thinking of. We made a mistake altogether in
giving way to her and letting her go to that place ; she has
got her head full of all sorts of absurd ideas about woman's
mission and woman's duties, and nonsense of that sort, and
has got out of hand altogether. You have not a shadow of
influence over her, and I can't say that I have much more.
Thank goodness her sisters don't take after her in any way."
"Well, that is all true," Mrs Brander said, "and you
know we have agreed on that subject for a long time, but it
is no answer to my question. I have been content to live all
these years in this miserable dull place, because I was fool
enough to believe your promise that you would in time give
up all this work and take a position in the county."
" To some extent I kept my promise," he said. " There is
not a week that we don't drive half a dozen miles, and some-
times a dozen, to take part in a dull dinner."
" That is all very well so far as it goes, but we simply go
to these dinners because you are the family lawyer and I
«m your wife."
"Well, well, you know, Eliza, that I was in treaty for the
Haywood's estate when that confounded mine that I had in-
vested in went wrong, and fifteen thousand were lost at a
blow — a nice kettle of fish we made between us of that."
We," she repeated, scornfully.
Yes, we. You know perfectly well that before I went
into it I consulted you. The mine was paying well then, and
at the rate I bought in would have paid twenty per cent,
on the investment. I told you that there was a certain
u
u
4 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
risk always with these mines, and that it was either a big-
addition to our income or a total loss."
" Yes ; but you said that coal mines were not like other
mines."
" And as a rule they are not," he said, " but there was first
that great strike, then a fall in the price of coal, and then,,
just when things hegan to look better again, we came upon
that fault that nobody had dreamt of being there, and theni
the whole thing went to smash. Tou must not be impatient.
I am as anxious as you are, Eliza, to have done with all this,,
and I hope by the time Clara and Julia are ready to come
out I may be able to carry out the plans we have always
had — I as much as you. Tancred takes a great deal of the-
work off my hands now, and I can see that he has the con-
fidence of most of my people. In another couple of years I
shall have no fear of the business falling off if I hand it
over to him entirely. You know he has only a fifth share,
and I have no doubt he will be glad to arrange to pay me-
half, or perhaps three-fifths, when I retire. Now, I must
be going across to the office."
The office was situated in a smaller house standing opposite-
the lawyer's residence. In his father's time a portion of the
ground floor of the house was devoted to business purposes,
but after his marriage Jeremiah Brander had taken the*
house opposite and made it his place of business.
About twelve o'clock a gig drew up at the door ; a moment
later a young clerk came in.
" Dr Edwards wishes to speak to you, Mr Brander."
" Show him in."
"Well, doctor," he said, as his visitor entered, "it is-
seldom that I see you here, though we meet often enough
elsewhere. Come you to buy or to sell, or do you want a
will prepared or a patient sued, if so you know that's alto-
gether out of my line ? "
" I quite understand that, Brander," the other said, as he-
took the arm-chair the lawyer pointed out to him. " No, I
have come to tell you something you will be very sorry to hear.
I have just come in from Fairclose. I had a note from Harting-
ton last night asking roe to go over first thing this morning."
" He does not look like a man who would require-
professional services, doctor ; he is sixty, I suppose, but
he could tire out most of the younger men either across-
country or after the partridges."
"Yes, he looks as hard as iron and sound as a roach,.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 5
'but appearances are deceptive. I should have said as
you do yesterday if anyone had asked me. I have come
to tell you to-day in confidence that he has not many months,
perhaps not many weeks, to live."
The lawyer uttered an exclamation of surprise and
regret.
"Yes, it is a bad business," the doctor went on. "He
"told me that when he came back from hunting yesterday
he went upstairs to change, when suddenly the room seeme-l
to go round. Fortunately he had just sat down on a couch
-and taken off his top-boots, and he fell sideways on to it.
He says he was insensible for about half an hour ; the first
thing he was conscious of was the servant knocking at the
•door to say that dinner was ready ; he told the man that
he did not feel well and should not go down ; he got off
his things and lay down for an hour and then felt well
-enough to write the note to me. Of course, I made a
thorough examination of him, and found that, as I feared,
it was a bad case of heart disease, probably latent for a long
time, but now I should say making rapid progress. Of course
I told him something of the truth.
" * Is it as bad as that ? ' he said. ' I have felt a lot of
palpitation lately afW a hard run with the hounds, and
fancied something must be wrong. Well, say nothing about
it, doctor; when it comes it must come, but I don't want
my affairs to be discussed or to know that every man I meet
is saying to himself, "Poor old buffer, we sha'n't have him
long among us." '
" Then he said, more seriously, ' I would rather it
-should be so than that I should outgrow my strength and
become' a confirmed invalid. I have enjoyed my life and have
•done my best to do my duty as a landlord and as a magistrate.
I am as prepared to die now as I should be twenty years
on. I have been rather a lonely man since I lost my wife.
Cuthbert's ways are not my ways, for he likes life in London,
cares nothing for field sports. But we can't all be cast in one
.groove, you know, and I have never tried to persuade him
to give up his life for mine, why should I ? However, though
I wish you to tell no one else, I should be glad if you will
•call on Brander and ask him to drive over. I made my
will years ago, but there are a few matters I should like
to talk over with him. ' "
This is sad, indeed," the lawyer said, sympathetically.
The Squire— everyone about here calls him the Squire, you
At
6 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
'know, though there are men with broader acres than his in*
the neighbourhood — will be terribly missed. Dear, dear, it
will make a sad gap indeed. How long do you think he is.
likely to last ? "
"He might go at any moment, Brander; but as he has
rallied from this shock it may be some little time before he-
has another. I should give him perhaps a couple of months.
By the way, I think his son ought to be informed of it."
" I will ask him about it," the lawyer said. " Of course,.
Cuthbert ought to know, but maybe the Squire will keep it
entirely to himself. I should say there is nothing that would
upset him more than the thought of being fretted over, and I
am not sure that he is not right. Of course, I shall drive-
over there this afternoon."
After Dr Edwards had left, Jeremiah Brander sat for a long;
time in deep thought. Once the clerk came in to ask for in-
structions about a deed that he was drawing up, but he waved
him away impatiently.
" Put it aside," he said, " I cannot see to it just now, I am
busy, and not to be disturbed for the next hour, whoever
come*."
It was evidently a difficult problem Jeremiah Brander h*d
to solve. He took out his bank-book and went through his
payments for a long while back, and then went through some-
bundles of old cheques. One of these he took off the file ; it
was for the sum of fifteen thousand pounds, made payable
to self.
"It is lucky now," he muttered, "that I drew it, as I
didn't want it known even in the bank what I was putting
the money into." Then from a strong box, with the name " J.
W. Harrington," he took out a bundle of documents, many
of which were receipts for money signed by the Squire, care-
fully examined the dates and amounts, and put them down on
a piece of paper.
"There would be no difficulty about the signature," he-
said ; " none whatever, a child could imitate it."
Laying one of the sheets before him he wrote on a sheet of
foolscap "J. W. Hartington" a score of times, imitating the^
somewhat crabbed handwriting so accurately that even an ex-
pert would have had some difficulty in detecting the differ-
ence ; he then tore the sheet into small pieces, put them into-
the heart of the fire and watched them shrivel up to nothing.
" I think it could be done without the slightest risk," he-
said to himself, "if one managed the details carefully." Then
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 7
he sat down and remained for half an hour without stirring.
"It can be done," he said at last, " it is well worth trying ; the
property ought to be worth seveuty thousand, but at a forced
sale it might go for fifty five or sixty. I reckoned last week
that I could sell out my stocks for twenty-six thousand, which,
with the fifteen thousand, would bring it over forty, and I
could raise the balance on the estate without difficulty ; then
with the rents, and what I shall draw for this business, I shall
be in clever."
He locked up the papers carefully, put on his hat, and went
across the road to lunch.
There was no trace in his face or manner of the grave
matters that had occupied his thoughts for the last two hours.
He was cheerful and even gay over the meal. He joked Mary
about the advancement of women, told the other girls that he
intended that they should take lessons in riding, gave them
an amusing account of the meeting of the musical society he
had attended the evening before, and told his wife that she
must dress specially well at the dinner they were going to
that evening, as he had heard that most of the county big wigs
would be there.
Mr Brander was always pleasant in the bosom of his family.
Occasionally sharp words might pass when he and his wife
were alone, but when the girls were present he was always the
genial father. There is no better advertisement for a man
than his children's talk. They are unconsciously his best
trumpeters, and when Mr Brander's name was mentioned, and
his many services to his townsmen talked over, the fact that
he was one of the best and kindest of men in his family circle,
and that his girls positively worshipped him, was sure to be
adduced as final and clinching evidence of the goodness of his
character.
After lunch he went down to the bank and had a private
interview with the manager.
" By-the-bye," he said, after a short talk, " I have a client
who wants to buy fifty shares."
The manager glanced sharply at him.
" They stand at a premium," Mr Brander went on, as if not
noticing the glance ; " though they have fallen thirty shillings
lately. It is not an investment I should myself recommend,
but at the same time, for various reasons, I did not care to
endeavour to dissuade him ; it would scarcely do for it to be
reported that I had said anything to the disadvantage of this
institution, standing as I do in the position of its solicitor. I
8 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
think you mentioned the other day that you held rather more
shares than you cared for. Perhaps you could let me have
some ? "
The other nodded. " I could part with fifty," he said, drily.
" Let me think, when was the last board meeting ? "
" This day fortnight."
"I have rather neglected the matter in the pressure of
business," Mr Brander said, quietly, "and my client thinks
the matter is already concluded, so perhaps it would be as well
to date the transfer on the day after the board meeting, and I
will date my cheque accordingly. ,,
" It will be all the same to me," the manager said. " Shall I
draw out the transfer at once ? "
" Do so. The shares stand at six pounds ten, I think, so I
will draw you out a cheque for three hundred and twenty-five
pounds. That will be right, I think," and he wrote a cheque
and handed it across to the manager.
" What name shall I put in as the purchaser, Mr Brander ¥ "
" James William Hartington,"
The manager lifted his brows and hesitated for a moment,
but then, without a remark, filled in the transfer, dating it as
requested.
" I must get two of the clerks to witness my signature,"
he said.
The lawyer nodded.
Two young clerks were fetched up by the messenger.
" I only want you to witness my signature," the manager
said, as he signed his name. "Please to sign here, Mr Kar-
ford ; now, Mr Levison, you sign underneath." He held his
finger to the spot where they were to sign in such a way that
they could not, even if they wished, read the name inserted in
the body of the document.
" I will take it away with me and obtain Harrington's
signature," Mr Brander said, after they had left the room,
"I am going over to see him now. I will send it in to you
before the next board meeting, and, by the way, it would be
as well when you get it stamped to pass it in with several
others. I know how these things are done, and in ninety-nine
cases out of a hundred the directors don't even glance at the
names on the transfers. Of course they are nothing to them,
they have other things to think about, but there might possibly
be some remark at your transferring some of your shares just
at the present moment. By the way," he said, carelessly, " I
don't think, if I were you, I would make any further advances
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 9
to Mild rake. Of course, he has a big business, and no doubt
he is all right, but I have learned privately that they are not
•doing as well as they seem to be, and I know the bank is
pretty deep there already."
The manager turned somewhat paler, but said, though with
manifest effort, —
" They are perfectly safe, Mr Brander — as safe as a bank."
" No doubt, no doubt, Mr Cumming ; but you know all
banks are not perfectly safe. Well, I daresay you can manage
that for me."
" Certainly, there can be no difficulty whatever about it.
I have ten or twelve other transfers, and there will doubtless
loe some more before next board meeting. The affixing the
stamp is a purely mechanical business."
After the lawyer had left, Mr Cumming sat for some time
passing his hand nervously over his chin.
" Brander evidently has an idea that all is not right," he
thought to hiinself. " Of course he cannot know how things
really stand or he would never have let Hartington take
shares. It is a curious transaction altogether, and I cannot
make head nor tail of it. However, that is no business of
mine. I will cash the cheque at once, and send the money to
town with the rest. If Mildrake can hold on, we may tide
matters over for the present ; if not, there will be a crash.
However, he promised to send me forty-eight hours' notice,
and that will be enough for me to arrange matters and get off."
Returning to his office, the lawyer found his gig waiting at
the door, and at once drove over to Fairclose, Mr Harrington's
place.
" I am grieved, indeed, to hear the news Edwards brought
me this morning," he said, as he entered the room where the
Squire was sitting.
" Yes, it is rather sudden, Brander, but a little sooner or a
little later does not make much difference after all. Edwards
told you, of coarse, that I want nothing said about it."
" That is so."
" Nothing would annoy me more than to have any fuss.
I shall just go on as I have before, except that I shall give up
hunting; it is just the end of the season, and there will be
but two or three more meets. I shall drive to them, and have
a chat with my friends and see the hounds throw off. I shall
give out that I strained myself a bit the last time I was out,
and must give up riding for a time. Have you brought my
will over with you ? "
10 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" Yps, I thought you might want to add something to it."
" That is right — there are two or three small legacies I have
thought of ; there is a list of them."
Mr Brander took out the will and added a codicil. The
legacies were small ones of ten or twenty pounds to various
old people in the village, and the work occupied hut a few
minutes. The housekeeper and one of the men were called up
to witness the signature, and, when they had retired, Mr
Brander sat chatting for half an hour on general topics, Mr
Hartington avoiding any further allusion to the subject of his
illness. Mr Brander got back in time to dress comfortably for
dinner.
" Really, Mary," he said, when he went into the drawing-
room, where his wife and Mary were waiting ready for him,
"I do think you might dress yourself a little more brightly
when we are going to such a house as we are to-night. I don't
say that that black silk with the lace and those white flowers
are not becoming, but I think something lighter and gayer
would be more appropriate to a young girl."
" I don't" like colours, father, and if it hadn't been for
mamma I should never have thought of getting these expen-
sive flowers. I do think women lower themselves by dressing
themselves as butterflies. No wonder men consider they
think of nothing but dress, and have no minds for higher
matters."
" Pooh, pooh, my dear, the first duty of a young woman is
to look as pretty as she can. According to my experience,
men don't trouble themselves much about the mind, and a
butterfly, after all, is a good deal more admired than a bee,
though the bee is much more useful in the long run."
" If a woman is contented to look like a butterfly, father,
she must be content to be taken for one, but I must say I
think it is degrading that men should look upon it in that
light. They don't dress themselves up in all sorts of colours,
why should we ? "
" I am sure I can't tell you why, Mary, but I suppose it is
a sort of instinct, and instincts are seldom wrong. If it had
been intended that women should dress themselves as plainly
and monotonously as we do, they would not have had the love
of decorating themselves implanted almost universally among
f hem. You are on the wrong track, child, on the wrong track
altogether, and if you and those who think like you imagine
that you are going to upset the laws of Nature and to make
women rivals of men in mind if not in manner, instead of being
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 11
what they were meant to be — wives and mothers — you are-
altogether mistaken."
" That is only another way of putting it, father, that be-
cause women have for ages been treated as inferiors, they
ought always to remain so."
"Well, well, my dear, we won't argue over it. I think
you are altogether wrong, but I have no objection to your
going your own way and finding it out at last for yourself ;
but that does not alter my opinion that on an occasion of a
set dinner party in the county, where everybody will be in
their fullest fig, that dress — which is pretty and becoming
enough in its way, I admit — can hardly be considered as
appropriate. "
Mary did not answer, but gave an almost imperceptible shrug
of her shoulders, expressing clearly her absolute indifference
to other people's tastes, so long as she satisfied her own. Mary
was, indeed, decided in most of her opinions. Although essen-
tially feminine in most respects, she and the set to which she
had belonged at Girton had established it as a principle to
their own satisfaction that feminine weaknesses were to be
sternly discouraged as the main cause of the position held
relatively to men. Thus they cultivated a certain brusque-
ness of speech, expressed their opinion uncompromisingly, and
were distinguished by a certain plainness in the fashion of
their gowns, and by the absence of trimmings, frillings and
similar adornments.
At heart she was as fond of pretty things as other girls of
her age, and had, when she attired herself, been conscious
that she felt a greater satisfaction at her appearance than she
ought to have done, and doubted whfther she had not made
an undue concession to the vanities of society in the matter
of her laces and flowers. She had, however, soothed her
conscience by the consideration that she was at home but for
a short time, and while there, she might well fall in with her
parents' views, as she would be soon starting for Germany to
enter upon earnest work. Her father's remarks, then, were
in a sense satisfactory to her, as they showed that, although
she had made concessions, she had, at least, gone but half-
way.
The dinner passed off well. Mary was fortunate in being
taken down by a gentleman who had advanced views on the
necessity of British agriculturalists adopting scientific farm-
ing if they were to hold their own against foreign producers,
and she surprised him by the interest she exhibited in his
12 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
theories, so much so that he always spoke of her afterwards as
one of the most intelligent young women he had ever met.
Mr Brander was in remarkably good spirits. On such
occasions he entirely dropped his profession, and showed a
keen interest in all matters connected with the land. No
one would that evening have supposed that his mind was in
the smallest degree preoccupied by grave matters of any kind.
CHAPTER II
As his father had said, Cuthbert Harrington's tastes differed
widely from his own, Cuthbert was essentially a Londoner,
and his friends would have had difficulty in picturing him as
engaged in country pursuits. Indeed, Cuthbert flartington,
in a scarlet coat, or toiling through a turnip field in heavy
boots with a gun on his shoulder, would have been to them an
absurd anomaly.
It was not that he lacked strength ; on the contrary, he
was tall and well, if loosely, built. Grace is not a common
manly attribute, but he possessed it to an eminent degree. There
was a careless ease in his manner, an unconscious picturesque-
ness in his poses, a turn that would have smacked of haughti-
ness had there been the slightest element of pride in his dis-
position, in the curve of the neck and well-poised head.
His life was chiefly passed among artists, and like them as
a class, he affected loose and easy attire. He wore turn-down
collars with a carelessly-knotted necktie, and a velvet jacket.
He was one of those men whom his intimates declared to be
capable of doing anything he chose, and who chose to do
nothing. He had never distinguished himself in any way at
Harrow. He had maintained a fair place in his forms as he
moved up in the school, but had done so rather from natural
ability than from study. He had never been in the eleven,
although it was the general opinion he would have certainly
had a place in it had he chosen to play regularly. As he saun-
tered through Harrow so he sauntered through Cambridge;
keeping just enough chapels and lectures to avoid getting into
trouble, passing the examinations without actual discredit,
rowing a little, playing cricket when the fit seized him, but
preferring to take life easily and to avoid toil, either mental or
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 1$
bodily ; nevertheless he read a great deal, and on general
subjects was one of the best informed men of his college.
He spent a good deal of his time in sketching and paint-
ing, art being his one passion. His sketches were the admira-
tion of his friend 8, but although he had had the best lessons
he could obtain at the University, he lacked the application
and industry to convert the sketches into finished paintings.
His vacations were spent chiefly on the Continent, for his life
at home bored him immensely, and to him a week among the
Swiss lakes, or in the galleries pf Munich or Dresden, was
worth more than all the pleasures that country life could
give him.
He went home for a short time after leaving the Univer-
sity, but his stay there was productive of pleasure to neither
his father nor himself. They had not a single taste in common,
and though Cuthbert made an effort to take an interest in
field sports and farming, it .was not long before his father
himself told him that, as it was evident the life was altogether
distasteful to him, and his tastes lay in another direction,
he was perfectly ready to make him an allowance that would
enable him either to travel or to live in chambers in London.
u I am sorry, of course, lad," he said, " that you could not
make yourself happy with me here ; but I don't blame you,
for it is, after all, a matter of natural disposition. Of course
you will come down here sometimes, and, at anyrate, I shall
be happier in knowing that you are living your own life and
enjoying yourself in your own way, than I should be in seeing
you trying in vain to take to pursuits from which you would
derive no pleasure whatever."
"I am awfully sorry, father," Cuthbert had said. "I
heartily wish it had been otherwise, but I own that I would
rather live in London on an almost starvation income than
settle down here. I have really tried hard to get to like
things that you do. I feel it would have been better if I had
had always stayed here and had a tutor ; then, no doubt, I
should have taken to field sports and so on. However, it is
no use regretting that now, and I am very thankful for your
offer."
Accordingly he had gone up to London, taken chambers in
Gray's Inn, where two or three of his college friends were
established, and joined a Bohemian Club, where he made the
acquaintance of several artists, and soon became a member of
their set. He had talked vaguely of taking up art «s a pro-
fession, but nothing ever came of it. There was an easel or
J4 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
two in his rooms and any number of unfinished paintings ;
but he was fastidious over his own work and unable from
want of knowledge of technique to carry out his ideas, and the
canvases were one after another thrown aside in disgust.
His friends upbraided him bitterly with his want of appli-
cation, not altogether without effect. He took their remon-
strances in perfect good temper, but without making the
slightest effort to improve. He generally accompanied some
of them on their sketching expeditions to Normandy, Brit-
tany, Spain or Algiers, and his portfolios were the subject of
mingled admiration and anger among his artist friends in St
John's Wood ; admiration at the vigour and talent that his
sketches displayed, anger that he should be content to do
nothing greater.
His days were largely spent in their studios where, seated
in the most comfortable chair he could find, he would smoke
lazily and watch them at work and criticise freely. Men
grumbled and laughed at his presumption, but were ready to
acknowledge the justice of his criticism. He had an excellent
eye for colour and effect and for the contrast of light and
shade, and those whose pictures were hung were often ready
enough to admit that the canvas owed much of its charm
to some happy suggestion on Cuthbert's often ready part.
Every two or three months he went home for a fortnight.
He was greatly attached to his father, and it was the one
drawback to the contentment of his life that he had been
unable to carry out the Squire's wishes, and to settle down
with him at Fairclose. He would occasionally bemoan him-
self over this to his friends.
" I am as bad as the prodigal son," he would say, " except
that I don't get what I deserve, and have neither to feed on
husks nor to tend swine ; but though the fatted calf would
be ready for me if I were to return, I can't bring myself to
<lo so."
" I don't know about being a prodigal," Wilson, one of the
oldest of his set, would grumble in reply, " but I do know you
are a lazy young beggar, and are wasting your time and oppor-
tunities ; it is a thousand pities you were born with a silver
spoon in your mouth. Your father ought to have turned you
adrift with an allowance just sufficient to have kept you on
bread and butter, and have left you to provide everything
^lse for yourself ; then you would have been an artist, sir, and
would have made a big name for yourself. You would have
had no occasion to waste your time in painting pot-boilers,
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 15
~bat could have devoted yourself to good, honest, serious work,
which is more than most of us can do. We are obliged, to
consider what will sell and to please the public by turning
out what they call pretty picture* — children, playing with
•dogs, and trumpery things of that sort. Bah ! it is sickening
to see a young fellow wasting his life so."
But Cuthbert only laughed good-temperedly ; he was -accus-
tomed to such tirades, and was indeed of a singularly sweet
•and easy temper.
It was the end of the first week in May, the great artistic
ovent of the year was over, the Academy was opened, the
pictures had been seen and criticised, there .was the usual
indignation at pictures being hung generally voted to be
-daubs, while others that had been considered among the
studios as certain of acceptance had been rejected. Two or
three of Cuthbert's friends were starting at once for Cornwall
to enjoy a rest after three months' steady work, and to lay in
a stock of fresh sketches for pictures for the following year.
" I will go with you," Cuthbert said, when tney informed
him of their intention ; " it is early yet, but it is warm enough
even for loafing on the rocks, and I hate London when it's full
I will go for a fortnight anyhow," and so, with Wilson and' two
jounger men, he started for Newquay, on the north of Corn-
wall. Once established there the party met only at meals.
"We don't want to be doing the same bits," Wilson said,
u and we shall see plenty of each other of an evening." Cuth-
bert was delighted with the place, and, with his usual enthu-
siasm, speedily fixed upon a subject, and setting up his easel
and camp-stool began work on the morning after his arrival
He had been engaged but a few hours when two young ladies
came along. They stopped close to him, and Cuthbert, who
hated being overlooked when at work, was on the point of
growling an anathema under his fair, drooping moustache,
when one of the girls came close and said quietly, —
" How are you, Mr Hartington ? Who would have thought
of meeting you here V
He did not recognise her for a moment and then ex-
claimed, —
" Why, it is Mary Brander ! I beg your pardon," he went
on, taking off his soft, broad-brimmed hat ; ** I ought to have
said Miss Brander, but having known you so long as Mary
Brander, the name slipped out. It must have been three years
since we met, and you have shot up from a girl into a full-
grown young lady. Are your father and mother here ? "
18 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
portfolios by whose aid I can travel over the ground again
and recall not only the scenery but almost every incident,
however slight, that occurred in connection with."
" Well, Anna, I think we had better be continuing our walk."
"I suppose we had. May I ask, Mr Hartington, where
you are staying 1 I am sure my mother will be very pleased
if you will call upon us at Porthalloc, there is a glorious view
from the garden. I suppose you will be at work all day, but
you are sure to find us in of an evening."
" Yes, I fancy I shall live in the open air as long as there
is light enough to sketch by, Miss Treadwyn, but if your
mother will be good enough to allow me to waive ceremony,
I will come up some evening after dinner ; in the meantime,
may I say that I shall always be found somewhere along the
shore, and will be glad to receive with due humility any
^hidings that my old playmate, if she will allow me to call her
so, may choose to bestow upon me."
Anna Treadwyn nodded. "I expect we shall be here
every day; the sea is new to Mary, and at present she is
wild about it."
" How could you go on so, Mary 1 " she went on, as they
continued their walk.
"How could I?" the girl replied. "Have we not agreed
that one of the chief objects of women's lives should not only
be to raise their own sex to the level of man, but generally to
urge men to higher aims, and yet because I have very mildly
shown my disapproval of Cuthbert Harrington's laziness and
waste of his talents, you ask me how I can do it ?"
" Well, you see, Mary, it is one thing for us to form all
sorts of resolutions when we were sitting eight or ten of us
together in your rooms at Girton, but when it comes to putting
them into execution, one sees things in rather a different light.
I quite agree with our theories, and I hope to live up to them
as far as I can, but it seems to me much easier to put the
theories into practice in a general way than in individual
cases. A clergyman can denounce faults from the pulpit
without giving offence to anyone, but if he were to take one
of his congregation aside and rebuke him, I don't think tho
experiment would be successful"
" Nathan said unto David, Thou art the man."
"Yes, my dear, but you will excuse my saying that at
present you have scarcely attained the position of Nathan."
Mary Brander laughed.
"Well, no, but you see Cuthbert Hartington is not a
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 19
stranger. I have known him ever since I can remember, and
used to like him very much, though he did delight in teasing
me ; but I have been angry with him for a long time, and
though I had forgotten it, I remember I did tell him my mind
last time I saw him. You see his father is a dear old man,
quite the beau ideal of a country squire, and there he is all
alone in his big house while his son chooses to live up in
London. I have heard my father and mother say over and
over again that he ought to be at home taking his place in the
county instead of going on his own way, and I have heard
other ladies say the same. 1 '
" Perhaps mothers with marriageable daughters, Mary,"
Anna Treadwyn said, with a smile ; " but I don't really see
why you should be so severe on him for going his own way.
You are yourself doing so without, I fancy, much deference to
your parents' opinions, and besides, I have heard you many a
time rail against the soulessness of the conversation and the
gossip and tittle tattle of society in country towns, meaning
in your case in Abchester, and should, therefore, be the last
to blame him for revolting against it."
" You forget, Anna," Mary said, calmly, " that the cases
are altogether different. He goes his way with the mere
selfish desire to amuse himself. I have set what I believe to
be a great and necessary aim before me. I don't pretend that
there is any sacrifice in it ; on the contrary, it is a source of
pleasure and satisfaction to devote myself to the mission of
helping my sex to regain its independence, and to take up the
position which it has a right to."
" Of course we are both agreed on that, my dear ; we only
differ in the best way of setting about it."
" I don't suppose Mr Hartington will take what I said to
heart," Mary replied, serenely, " and if he does it is a matter
of entire indifference to me."
The subject of their conversation certainly showed no signs of
taking the matter to heart. He smiled as he resumed his work.
"She is just what she used to be," he said to himself.
" She was always terribly in earnest. My father was saying
last time I was down that he had learned from Brander that
she had taken up all sorts of Utopian notions about woman's
rights and so on, and was going to spend two years abroad,
to get up her case, I suppose. She has grown very pretty,
she was very pretty as a child ; though, of course, last time I
saw her she was at the gawky age. She is certainly turning
the tables on me, and she hit me hard with that stale old
20 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Latin quotation. I must admit it was wonderfully apt. She
has a good eye for dress, it is not many girls that can stand
those severely plain lines, but they suit her figure and face-
admirably. I must get her and her friend to sit on a rock
and let me put them into the foreground of one of my
sketches; funny meeting her here — however, it will be an
amusement."
After that it became a regular custom for the two girls to*
stop as they came along the shore for a chat with Cuthbert,
sometimes sitting down on the rocks for an hour ; their stay,
however, being not unfrequently cut short by Mary getting up
with heightened colour and going off abruptly. It was Cuth-
bert's chief amusement to draw her out on her favourite sub-
ject, and although over and over again she told herself angrily
that she would not discuss it with him, she never could resist
falling into the snares Cuthbert laid for her. She would not
have minded had he argued seriously with her, but this was
just what he did not do, either laughing at her theory, or
replying to her arguments with a mock seriousness that irritated
her far more than his open laughter.
Anna Treadwyn took little part in the discussions, but sat
an amused listener. Mary had been the recognised leader of
her set at Girton ; her real earnestness, and the fact that she
intended to go abroad to fit herself the better to carry out her
theories, but making her a power among the others. Much aa
Anna liked and admired her, it amused her greatly to see her
entangled in the dilemma into which Cuthbert led her,,
occasionally completely posing her by his laughing objections.
Of an evening Cuthbert often went up to Porthalloc, where
he was warmly welcomed by Anna's mother, whose heart he
won by the gentle and deferential manner that rendered him
universally popular among the ladies of the families of his,
artist friends. She would sit smilingly by when the conflicts
of the morning were sometimes renewed, for she saw with
satisfaction that Anna at least was certainly impressed with
Cuthbert's arguments and banter, and afforded very feeble aid
to Mary Brander in her defence of their opinions.
"I feel really obliged to you, Mr Hartington," she said oue
evening, when the two girls happened to be both out of the
room when he arrived, " for laughing Anna out of some of the
ideas she brought back from Girton. At one time these gave
me a great deal of concern, for my ideas are old-fashioned, and
I consider a woman's mission is to cheer and brighten her
husband's home, to be a good wife and a good mother, and to>
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 21
be content with the position God has assigned to her as
being her right and proper one. However, I have always
hoped and believed that she would grow out of her new-
fangled ideas, which I am bound to say she never carried to the
■extreme that her friend does. The fact that I am somewhat
of an invalid, and that it is altogether impossible for her to
•carry out such a plan as Miss Brander has sketched for herself,
-and that there is no opportunity whatever for her to get up a
propaganda in this quiet little Cornish town, has encouraged
that hope ; she herself has said but little on the subject since
she came home, and I think your fights with Miss Brauder
will go far to complete her cure."
" It is ridiculous from beginning to end," Cuthbert said,
"" but it is natural enough. It is in just the same way that
some young fellows start in life with all sorts of wild Radical
notions, and settle down in middle age into moderate Liberals,
if not into contented Conservatives. The world is good
•enough in its way, and, at anyrate, if it is to get better it will
be by gradual progress and not by individual effort. There is
much that is very true in Miss Brander's views that things
might be better than they are, it is only with her idea that
she has a mission to set them right that I quarrel. Earnest-
ness is no doubt a good thing, but too much of it is a misfor-
tune rather than an advantage. No doubt I am prejudiced,"
he laughed, " because I am afraid that I have no particle of
it in my composition. Circumstances have been against its
growth, and there is no saying what I might be if they were
to change. At present, at anyrate, I have never felt the
want of it, but I can admire it among others even though I
laugh at it."
A month passed, and Wilson and his two companions
moved further along the coast in search of fresh subjects, but
Cuthbert declined to accompany them, declaring that he
found himself perfectly comfortable where he was, at which
his companions all laughed, but made no attempt to persuade
him further.
" Do you know, Mary," Anna said, a few days later, "you
•and Mr Hartington remind me strongly of Beatrice and
Benedict."
" What do you mean, Anna ? " Mary asked, indignantly.
" Nothing, my dear," Anna replied, demurely, " except that
you are perpetually quarrelling."
" We may be that," Mary said, shortly, " but we certainly
shall not arrive at the hame kind of conclusion to our quarrel."
22 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"You might do worse, Mary ; Mr Hartington is charming.
My mother, who is not given to general admiration, says he
is one of the most delightful men that she ever met. He is
heir to a good estate, and, unless I am greatly mistaken, the
idea has occurred to him if not to you. I thought so before,
but have been convinced of it since he determined to remain
here while those men he was with have all gone away."
" You will make me downright angry with you, Anna, if
you talk such nonsense," Mary said, severely. "You know
very well that I have always made up my mind that nothing
shall induce me to marry and give up my freedom, at anyrate
for a great many years, and then only to a man who will see
life as I do, become my co-worker, and allow me my independ-
ence. Mr Hartington is the last man I should choose ; he has.
1.0 aim or purpose whatever, and he would ruin my life as well
as his own. No thank you. However, I am convinced that
you are altogether mistaken, and Cuthbert Hartington would
no more dream of asking me to be his wife than I should of
taking him for a husband — the idea is altogether prepos-
terous. "
However, a week later when Cuthbert, on going up to
Porthalloc one morning, catching sight of Mary Brander in
the garden by herself, joined her there and astonished her by
showing that Anna was not mistaken in her view. He com-
menced abruptly, —
" Do you know, Miss Brander, I have been thinking over
your arguments, and I have come to the conclusion that
woman has really a mission in life. Its object is not pre-
cisely that which you have set yourself, but it is closely allied
to it, my view being that her mission is to contribute to
the sum of human happiness by making one individual man
happy."
" Do you mean, is it possible that you can mean, that you
think woman's mission is to marry ? " she asked, with scorn ;
" are you going back to that ? "
" That is entirely what I meant, but it is a particular case
I was thinking of rather than a general one. I was thinking
of your case and mine. I do not say that you might not do
something towards adding to the happiness of mankind, but
mankind are not yearning for it. On the other hand, I am
sure that you could make me happy, and I am yearning for
that kind of happiness."
" Are you really in earnest, Mr Hartington ? "
" Quite in earnest, very much so. In the six weeks since
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 23
I have been here I have learnt to love you, and to desire,
more earnestly certainly than I have ever desired anything
before, that you should be my wife. I know that you do not
credit me with any great earnestness of purpose, but I am
quite earnest in this. I do love you, Mary."
" I am sorry to hear it, and am surprised, really and truly
surprised I thought you disapproved of me altogether ; but
I did think you gave me credit for being sincere. It is clear
you did not, or you could not suppose that I would give up all
my plans before even commencing them. I like you very
much, Outhbert, though I disapprove of you as much as I
thought you disapproved of me ; but if ever I do marry, and
I hope I shall never be weak enough to do so, it must be to
someone who has the same views of life that I have ; but I
feel sure that I shall never love anyone if love is really what
one reads of in books, where woman is always ready to
sacrifice her whole life and her whole plans to a man who
graciously accepts the sacrifice as a matter of course."
" I was afraid that that would be your answer," he said,
gravely. " And yet I was not disposed to let the chance of
happiness go without at least knowing that it was so. I can
quite understand that you do not even feel that I am really
in earnest. So small did I feel my chances were, that I
should have waited for a time before I risked almost certain
refusal, had it not been that you are on the point of going
abroad for two years. And two years is a long time to wait
when one feels that one's chance is very small at the end of
that time. Well, it is of no use saying anything more about
it I may as well say good-bye at once, for I shall pack up
and go. Good-bye, dear. I hope that you are wrong, and
that some day you will make some man worthy of you happy,
but when the time comes remember that I prophesy that he
will not in the slightest degree resemble the man you picture
to yourself now. I think that the saying that extremes meet
is truer than those that assert that likes meet like. But who-
ever he is I hope that he will be someone who will make you
as happy as I should have tried to do."
" Good-bye, Cuthbert," she said, frankly ; " I think this has
all been very silly, and I hope that by the time we meet again
you will have forgotten all about it."
There was something in his face, as she looked up into it,
that told her what she had before doubted somewhat — that
he had been really in earnest for once in his life — and she
added, " I do hope we shall be quite good friends when we
24 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
meet again, and that you will then see I am quite right about
this."
He smiled, gave her a little nod, and then, dropping her
hand, sauntered into the house.
" It is the most foolish thing I have ever heard of," she
said to herself, pettishly, as she looked after him. " I can't
think how such an idea ever occurred to him. He must have
known that even if I had not determined as I have done to
devote myself to our cause, he was the last sort of man I
should ever have thought of marrying. Of course he is nice,
and I always thought so, but what is niceness when he has no
aims, no ambitions in life, and he is content to waste it as he
is doing."
Five minutes later Anna Treadwyn joined her in the
garden.
" So I was right after all, Mary ? "
" How do you know ? Do you mean to say that he has told
you ? "
" Not exactly ; but one can use one's eyes, I suppose. He
said nothing last night about going away, and now he is
leaving by this afternoon's coach ; besides, although he laughed
and talked as usual one could see with half an eye that it was
forced. So you have actually refused him 1 "
" Of course I have ; how can you ask such a question t It
was the most perfectly absurd idea I ever heard of."
" Well, I hope that you will never be sorry for it, Mary."
" There is not much fear of that," Mary said, with a toss
of her head ; " and let me say that it is not very polite either
of you or him to think that I should be ready to give up all
my plans in life the first time I am asked, and that by a
gentleman who has not the slightest sympathy with them. It
is a very silly and tiresome affair altogether, and I do hope I
shall never hear anything of it again."
CHAPTER III
CuTnnERT Hartington had been back in town but two days
when he received a letter from Mr Brander apprising him of
the sudden death of his father. It was a terrible shock, for he
had no idea whatever that Mr Hartington was in any way out
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 25
of health. Cuthbert had written only the day before to say that
he should be down at the end of the week, for indeed he felt
unable to settle down to his ordinary course of life in London.
He at once sent off a telegram ordering the carriage to meet
him by the evening train, and also one to Mr Brander, begging
him to be at the house if possible when he arrived.
Upon hearing from the lawyer that his father had been
aware that he might be carried off at any moment by heart
disease, but that he had strictly forbidden the doctor and him-
self from writing to him, or informing anyone of the circum-
stances, he said —
" It is just like my father, but I do wish it had not been so.
I might have been down with him for the last three months of
his life."
" The Squire went on just in his usual way, Cuthbert. I
am sure that he preferred it so. He shrunk, as he said, from
knowing that people he met were aware that his days were
numbered, and even with me, after our first conversation on
the subject, he made no allusion whatever to it. He was as
cheery and bright as ever, and when I last met him a week
ago, even I, who knew the circumstances, could see no difference
whatever in his manner. I thought be was wrong at first, but I
came to the conclusion afterwards that his decision was not an
unwise one. He spared you three months of unavailing pain ;
he had no fear of death, and was able to go about as before to
meet his friends without his health being a subject of dis-
cussion, and in all ways to go on as usual until the call came.
His death was evidently painless; he sat down in his easy
arm-chair after lunch for his usual half-hour's nap, and evi-
dently expired in his sleep. The servant found him, as he
believed, still asleep when he came in to tell him that the
carriage was at the door, and it was only on touching him
he discovered what had happened. They sent the carriage off
at once to fetch Dr Edwards. He looked in at my office and
took me over with him, and I got back in time to write to you."
The shock that the Squire's sudden death caused in Ab-
chester was, a fortnight later, obliterated by the still greater
sensation caused by the news that the bank had put up its
shutters. The dismay excited thereby was heightened when
it became known that the manager had disappeared, and
reports got about that the losses of the bank had been
enormous. The first investigation into its affairs more than
confirmed the worst rumours. For years it had been engaged
in propping up the firm, not only of Mild rake & Company,
26 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
which bad failed to meet its engagements on the day preceding
the announcement of the bank's failure, but of three others
which had broken down immediately afterwards. In all of
these firms Mr Gumming was found to have had a large interest.
On the day after the announcement of the failure of the
bank, Mr Brander drove up to Fairclose. He looked excited
and anxious when he went into the room where Cuthbert
was sitting listlessly with a book before him.
" I have a piece of very bad news to tell you, Mr Harring-
ton," he said.
" Indeed ? " Cuthbert said, without any very great interest
in his voice.
" Yes ; I daresay you heard yesterday of the failure of the
bank?"
" Dr Edwards looked in here as he was driving past to tell
me of it. Had we any money in it ? "
" I wish that was all, it is much worse than that, sir. Tour
father was a shareholder in the bank."
" He never mentioned it to me," Cuthbert said, his air of
indifference still unchanged.
" He only bought shares a comparatively short time ago. I
think it was after you were here the last time. There were
some vague rumours afloat as to the credit of the bank, and
your father, who did not believe them, took a few shares as a
proof of his confidence in it, thinking, he said, that the fact
that he did so might allay any feeling of uneasiness."
" I wonder that you allowed him to invest in bank shares,
Mr Brander."
" Of course I should not have done so if I had had the
slightest idea that the bank was in difficulties, but I was in no
way behind the scenes. I transacted thrir legal business for
them in the way of drawing up mortgages, investigating titles,
and seeing to the purchase and sales of property here in the
county ; beyond that I knew nothing of their affairs. I was
not consulted at all in the matter. Your father simply said to
me, ' I see that the shares in the bank have dropped a little,
and I hear there are some foolish reports as to its credit. I
think, as a county gentleman, I ought to support the County
Bank, and I wish you to buy, say fifty shares for me.' "
" That was just like my father," Cuthbert said, admiringly.
" He always thought a great deal of his county, and I can
quite understand his acting as he did. "Well, they were ten-
pound shares, I think, so it is only five hundred gone at the
worst."
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 27
" I am afraid you don't understand the case," Mr Brander
said, gravely. " Each and every shareholder is responsible for
the debts of the bank to the full extent of his property, and
although I earnestly hope that only the bank's capital has been
lost, I can't disguise from you that, in the event of there being
a heavy deficiency, it will mean ruin to several of the share-
holders."
" That is bad, indeed," Cuthbert said, thoroughly interested
now. " Of course you have no idea at present of what the
state of the bank is ? "
" None whatever, but I hope for the best. I am sorry to
say I heard a report this morning that Mr Hislop, who was, as
you know, the chairman of the bank, had shot himself, which,
if true, will, of course, intensify the feeling of alarm among
the shareholders."
Cuthbert sat silent for some time.
" Well," he said at last, " this is sudden news ; but if things
are as bad as possible, and Fairclose and all the estate go, I
shall be better off than many people. I shall have that five
thousand pounds that came to me bf my mother's settlement,
I suppose?"
" Yes, no doubt. The shares have not been transferred to
my name as your father's executor. I had intended, when I
came up next week, to go through the accounts with you, to
recommend you to instruct me to dispose of them at once,
which I should have done, in my capacity of executor, without
transferring them in the first place to you. Therefore any
claim there may be will lie against the estate and not against
you personally."
" That is satisfactory anyhow," Cuthbert said, calmly. " I
don't know how I should get on without it. Of course, I shall
be sorry to lose this place, but, in some respects, the loss will
be almost a relief to me. A country life is not my vocation,
and I have been wondering for the last fortnight what on
earth I should do with myself. As it is, I shall, if it comes to
the worst, be obliged to work. I never have worked, because
I never have been forced to do so, but, really, I don't know that
the prospects are altogether unpleasant ; and at anyrate I am
sure that I would rather be obliged to paint for my living than
to pass my life in trying to kill time."
The lawyer looked keenly at his client, but he saw that he
was really speaking in earnest, and that his indifference at the
risk of the loss of his estates was unaffected.
Well," he said, after a pause, "lam glad indeed that
it
28 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
you take it so easily. Of course I hope most sincerely that
things may not be anything like so bad as that, and that, at
worst, a call of only a few pounds a share will be sufficient to
meet any deficiency that may exist ; still I am heartily glad
to see that you are prepared to meet the event in such a spirit,
for to most men the chance of such a calamity would be
crushing."
" Possibly I might have felt it more if it had come upon
me two or three years later, just as I had got to be reconciled
to the change of life, but, you see, I have so recently and un-
expectedly come into the estate that I have not even begun to
appreciate the pleasures of possession, or to feel that they
weigh in the slightest against the necessity of my being
obliged to give up the life I have been leading for years. By-
the-bye," he went on, changing the subject carelessly, " how is
your daughter getting on in Germany ? I happened to meet
her at Newquay three weeks ago, and she told me she was
going out there in the course of a week or so. I suppose she
has gone?"
" Yes, she has gone," Mr Brander said irritably. " She is
just as bent as you were, if you will permit me to say so,
on the carrying out of her own scheme of life. It is a great
annoyance to her mother and me, but argument has been
thrown away upon her, and as, unfortunately, the girls have
each a couple of thousand left under their own control by
their mother's sister, she was in a position to do as she liked.
However, I hope that a year or two will wean her from the
ridiculous ideas she has taken up."
" I should doubt whether her cure will be as prompt as
you think, it seemed to me that her ideas are somewhat
fixed, and it will need a good deal of failure to disillusionise
her."
" She is as obstinate as a little mule," Mr Brander said
shortly. "However, I must be going," he went on, rising
from his chair. "I drove over directly I had finished my
breakfast, and must hurry back again to the office. Well, I
hope with all my heart, Mr Hartington, that this most
unfortunate affair will not turn out so bad after all. "
Cuthbert did not echo the sentiment, but accompanied his
visitor silently to the door, and after seeing him off, returned
to the room, where he re-seated himself in his chair, filled and
lighted his pipe, put his legs on to another chair, and proceeded
to think the matter out.
It was certainly a wholly unexpected change, but at pre-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE £!>
sent he did not feel it to be an unpleasant one, but rather a
relief. He had for the last ten days been bemoaning himself.
While but an heir apparent he could live his own life and take
his pleasure as he liked. As owner of Fairclose he had duties
to perform — he had his tenants' welfare to look after, there
would be the bailiff to interview every morning, and to go
into all sorts of petty details as to hedges and ditches, fences
and repairs, and things he cared not a jot for, interesting as
they were to his dear old father. He supposed he should
have to go on the bench, and to sit for hours listening to petty
cases of theft and drunkenness, varied only by a poaching affray
at long intervals.
There would be county gatherings to attend, and he would
naturally be expected to hunt and to shoot. It had all seemed
to him inexpressedly dreary. Now all that was, if Branded
fears were realised, at an end. Even if it should not turn out
to be as bad as that, the sum he would be called upon to pay
might be sufficient to cripple the estate, and to afford him a
good and legitimate excuse for shutting up or letting the house,
and going away to retrench until the liabilities were all cleared
off. Of course, he would have to work in earnest now, but
even the thought of that was not altogether unpleasant.
"I believe it is going to be the best thing that ever
happened to me,' 1 he said to himself. " I know that I should
never have done anything if it hadn't been for this, and
though I am not fool enough to suppose I am ever going to
turn out anything great, I am sure that after a couple of years'
hard work I ought to paint decently, and anyhow to turn out
as good things as some of those men. It is just what I have
always been wanting, though I did not know it. I am afraid
I shall have to cut all those dear old fellows, for I should
never be able to give myself up to work among them. I
should say it would be best for me to go over to Paris ; I can
start on a fresh groove there. At my age I should not like
to go through any of the schools here. I might have three
'months with Terrier ; that would be just the thing to give me
a good start ; he is a good fellow, but one who never earns
more than bread and cheese.
" There isn't a man in our set who really knows as much
about it as he does. He has gone through our own schools,
was a year at Paris, and another at Rome. He has got the
whole thing at his fingers' ends, and would make a splendid
master if he would but go in for pupils, but with all that he
can't paint a picture. He has not a spark of imagination,
30 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
nor an idea of art ; he has no eye for colour or effect. He
can paint admirably what he sees, but then he sees nothing
but bare facts. He is always hard up, poor fellow, and it
would be a real boon to him to take me for three months, and
stick at it hard with me, and by the end of that time I ought
to be able to take my place in some artist's school in Paris
without feeling myself to be an absolute duffer among a lot of
fellows younger than myself. By Jove ! this news is like a
breeze on the east coast in summer — a little sharp, perhaps,
but splendidly bracing and healthy, just the thing to set a
fellow up and make a man of him. I will go out for a walk
and take the dogs with me."
He got up, went to the stables, and unchained the dogs,
who leapt round him in wild delight, for the time of late had
been as dull for them as for him ; told one of the stable boys
to go to the house and say that he would not be back to lunch,
and then went for a twenty-mile walk over the hills, and re-
turned somewhat tired with the unaccustomed exertion, but
with a feeling of buoyancy and light-heartedness such as he
had not experienced for a long time past. For the next week
he remained at home, and then, feeling too restless to do so
any longer, went to town, telling Mr Brander to let him know
as soon as the committee, that had already commenced its in-
vestigations into the real state of the bank's affairs, made their
first report.
The lawyer was much puzzled over Cuthbert's manner. It
seemed to him utterly impossible that anyone should really be
indifferent to losing a fine estate, and yet he could see no
reason for Cuthbert's assuming indifference on so vital a subject
unless he felt it. He even discussed the matter with his wife.
" I cannot understand that young Harrington," he said ;
" most men would have been completely crumpled up at the
news I gave him, but he took it as quietly as if it had been a
mere bagatelle. The only possible explanation of his indiffer-
ence that I can think of is that he must have made some low
marriage in London, and does not care about introducing his
wife to the' county ; it is just the sort of thing that a man
with his irregular Bohemian habits might do — a pretty model,
perhaps, or some peasant girl he has come across when out
sketching."
"He never did care particularly about anything," Mrs
Brander said, " and it may be he is really glad to get away
from the country."
" That would be possible enough if he had a good income
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 31
in addition to Fairclose, but all tbat he will have is that five
thousand that came to him from his mother, and I should say
he is likely enough to run through that in a couple of years at
the outside, and then where will he be ? "
"I can't think, Jeremiah, how you ever permitted his
father to do such a mad thing as to take those shares."
" I know what I am doing, my dear ; don't you worry your-
self about that. You have been wanting me for a very long
time to give up business and go into the country. How
would Fairclose suit you ? "
" You are not in earnest ! " she exclaimed, with an excite-
ment very unusual to her. " You can't mean that ? "
" I don't often say what I don't mean, my dear, and if
Fairclose comes into the market, more unlikely things than
that may come to pass ; but mind, not a word of this is to be
breathed."
" And do you really think it will come into the market 1 "
sb e asked.
" As certain as the sun will rise to-morrow morning. We
only held our first meeting to-day, but that was enough to
show us that the directors ought all to be shut up in a lunatic
asylum. The affairs of the bank are in a frightful state,
simply frightful; it means ruin to everyone concerned."
" It is fortunate, indeed, tbat you did not hold any shares,
Jeremiah."
" I was not sucb a fool," he said shortly, " as to trust my
money in the hands of a body of men who were all, no doubt,
excellent fellows and admirable county gentlemen, but who knew
no more of business than babies, and who would be mere tools
in the hands of their manager ; and I had the excellent excuse
that I considered the legal adviser of a bank should have no
pecuniary stake whatever in its affairs, but be able to act alto-
gether without bias."
There was an ironical smile on his lips, and his wife said
admiringly,—
" How clever you are, Jeremiah."
"It did not require much cleverness for that," he said,
with some complacency. " You can reserve your compliments,
my dear, until we are established at Fairclose. All I ask is
that you won't ask any questions or allude to the matter until
it is settled, but leave it entirely in my hands. So far, things
are working in the right direction."
"Perhaps it will be a good thing for Cuthbort Hartington
after all," she said, after sitting for some minutes in silence.
32 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
" No doubt it will," he said. " At anyrate, as he does
not take it to heart in the slightest degree, we need not worry
ourselves over him."
"It is funny," she said, "but sometimes the idea has
occurred to me that Cuthbert might some day take a fancy
to one of our girls, and I might see one of them mistress at
Fairclose; but I never dreamt I might be mistress there
myself, and I can't guess, even now, how you can think of
managing it."
" Don't you trouble to guess at all, my dear ; be content
with the plum when it falls into your mouth, and don't worry
yourself as to how I manage to shake the tree to bring the
fruit down."
Three weeks later it became known definitely that, after
calling up the remainder of the bank's capital, there would be
a deficiency of nearly a million, and that every shareholder
would be called upon to contribute, to the full extent of his
ability, to cover the losses. One or two letters from Mr
Brander had already prepared Cuthbert for the final result of
the investigation, and he had already began to carry out the
plan he had marked out for himself. He had, as soon as he
had returned, astonished his friends by informing them that
he found that instead of coming into his father's estates, as he
had expected, it was not likely he would ever touch a penny
from them, as his father had been a shareholder in the Ab-
chester Bank, and he so believed everything would be swept
away.
" Fortunately," he went on, " I have got enough of my
own to keep my head above water, and I dare say you
fellows won't believe me, but I mean to go to work in
earnest."
The announcement was made to a dozen men who were
smoking in Wilson's studio, he having returned the day before
from Cornwall.
" Well, youngster, I won't commiserate with you," he
growled. "I have beea wondering since I heard from
King last night what had kept you away, what on earth
you would do with yourself now you have come into your
money. I often thought it was the worst thing in the world
for you that you had not got to work, and if you are really
going to set to now, I believe the time will come when
you will think that this misfortune is the best thing that ever
happened to you."
"I am not quite sure that I do not think so already,"
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 33
Cuthbert replied. "I am not at all disposed to fancy
myself a martyr, I can assure you. I mean to go over to
Paris and enter an art school there. I know what you
fellows are. You would never let me work."
There was a general chorus of indignation.
" Well, how much do you work yourselves ? You potter
about for nine months in the year, and work for four or five
hours a day for the other three."
" Saul among the prophets ! " Wilson exclaimed. " The
idea of Cuthbert Hartington rebuking us for laziness is rich
indeed/ 1 and a roar of laughter showed the general apprecia-
tion of the absurdity.
"Never mind," Cuthbert said loftily. "You will see;
'from morn till dewy eve* will be my idea of work. It is
the way you men loaf, and call it working, that has so far kept
me from setting to. Now I am going to burst the bonds of
the Castle of Indolence, and when I come back from Paris I
shall try to stir you all up to something like activity."
There was another laugh, and then Wilson said, —
"Well, it is the best thing you can do to go abroad.
I don't believe you would ever make a fresh start here."
"I have made a fresh start, Wilson; our respected
brother Terrier, here, has undertaken to teach me the rudi-
ments, and for the next three months his studio doors will be
closed to all visitors from ten to five."
" Is that so ? I congratulate you, Cuthbert. That really
looks like business ; and if Terrier can't teach you how to
use the brush and put on colour no one can. Gentlemen,
we will drink the health of the new boy. Here is to Cuthbert
Hartington, and success to him." Glasses were raised and
the sentiment heartily echoed.
For three months Cuthbert worked steadily ; to his own
surprise, not less than to that of his instructor, he found the
hours none too long for him ; during that time he had re-
ceived a letter from Mr Brander that surprised him.
"Dear Mb Habtington, — In accordance with your
instructions I at once informed the Receiver of the bank
that you were prepared to hand over the Fairclose estates
for the benefit of the creditors, instead of waiting for the
calls to be made, and that you wished the matter to be
arranged as speedily as possible, as you were shortly
going abroad. The necessary deeds will in a few days be
prepared. You will doubtless be surprised to hear that I have
34 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
arranged with the Receiver for the purchase of the estates by
private treaty. I have long been intending to retire from busi-
ness, and have been on the look-out for an estate in the country.
I hope this arrangement will not be displeasing to you."
As Mr Brander had the reputation of being a wealthy man,
and his wife's wishes that he should retire from business and
purchase an estate in the county were public property, Cuth-
bert was not surprised, but, at the same time, he was not
altogether pleased. He had never liked the lawyer. He had
no particular grounds for not doing so, but he had, as a
boy, an instinctive notion that he was a humbug.
" I wonder," he said to himself, " whether he has all
along had an eye to Fairclose, and whether he really did
his best to dissuade my father from making that disastrous
investment ? At anyrate, it does not make any difference to
me who is there. It might have been some stranger, some
manufacturing fellow; I would rather think of Mary being
at the old place than a man of that sort. He would have
been more likely than Brander to be hard on the tenants,
and to have sold off all the things and have turned the place
inside out. I don't say that under ordinary circumstances
I should choose Brander as a landlord, but he will know well
enough that there would be nothing that would do him more
harm in the county than a report that he was treating the
Squire's tenants harshly. Well, I suppose I had better
write him a line saying that I am glad to hear that he has
bought the place, as I would naturally prefer that it should
be in his hands than those of a stranger."
A fortnight later, Cuthbert, in looking over the Abchester
Guardian, which was sent to him weekly, as the subscription
was not yet run out, read the following paragraph : —
" We understand that our greatly respected townsman, Mr
J. Brander, has purchased the house and estate of Fairclose,
which has come into the market owing to the failure of the
Abchester Bank, in which the late Mr Hartington was most
unfortunately a shareholder, and which has involved hundreds
of families in ruin. The greatest sympathy is everywhere
expressed for Mr Cuthbert Hartington. We understand that
the price given by Mr Brander was fifty-five thousand pounds.
We believe that we are correct in stating that Mr Brander
was the holder of a mortgage for fifteen thousand pounds on the
estate."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 35
" Mortgage for fifteen thousand pounds," Cuthbert repeated.
<( Impossible ! Why should my father have mortgaged the
place 1 He could have no occasion to raise the money. His
tastes were most simple, and I am sure that he never lived
beyond his income. He paid me a handsome allowance, but,
thank God, I never exceeded it. What in the world can this
mean? I will write to Brander at once. No, I won't; I
will write to the liquidator. If there was such a thing he
is certain to have looked into it closely, for it was so much
off the sum available for assets."
By return of post Cuthbert received the following letter : —
"Dear Mb Hartington, — In reply to your question, I
beg to confirm the statement in the newspaper-cutting you
send to me. Mr Brander was the holder of a mortgage for
fifteen thousand pounds on your father's estate. I looked into
the matter very closely, as it came as a surprise upon us.
Everything was in proper order. Mr Brander's bank-book
showed that he drew out fifteen thousand pounds on the date
of the mortgage, and the books of the bank confirm his book.
Notice had been given to them a week previously that he
would require that sum in notes and gold, and it was so paid
-over to him. His books also show payment of the interest,
and his receipts for the same were found among Mr Harting-
ton's papers. There was, therefore, no shadow of a doubt
possible as to the genuine nature of the mortgage. — Yours
truly, W. H. Cox."
Although satisfied that for some reason or other his father
had borrowed this sum on mortgage from his lawyer, Cuthbert
was no less puzzled than before as to the purpose for which it
had been raised, or what his father could possibly have done
with the money. He therefore wrote to Mr Brander, saying
that though it was a matter in which he had himself no pecu-
niary interest, he should be glad if he would inform him of
the circumstance which led his father to borrow such a sum.
" I thought/' he said, " that I knew everything about my
father's money affairs, for he always spoke most openly about
them to me, and he never let drop a word as to the mortgage
or as to any difficulty in which he had involved himself, or any
investment he had thought of making ; and I am, therefore,
entirely at a loss to understand how he could have required
.such a sum of money."
The lawyer's answer came in due course.
36 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
"My dear Mb Habtington, — I was in no way surprised
at the receipt of your letter, and indeed have been expecting
an inquiry from you as to the mortgage. It happened in this*
way : — Some three years ago your father said to me, * I want
to raise fifteen thousand pounds on the estate, Brander.' I
was naturally greatly surprised, for, acting for him as I did*
I was, of course, aware that he lived well within his income.
He went on, ( Of course you are surprised, Brander, but as
you must know well, most men have a skeleton in a cup-
board somewhere. I have one, and as I am getting on in
life, I want to bury it for good. It makes no difference to-
you what it is, and I have no intention of going into the
matter. It suffices that I want fifteen thousand pounds.'
* Of course there is no difficulty about that, sir,' I said ; * the
estate is unencumbered, and, as there is no entail, you are*
free to do with it as you like.' ' But I want it done quietly,'
he said. 'I don't want it talked about that I have mort-
gaged Fairclose. The best plan by far would be for you to-
do it yourself, which I have no doubt you can do easily enough
if you like.' I said that I would much rather have nothings
to do with it, as I have always considered it a mistake for
lawyers to become principals in money transactions with their
clients, and had always refused to do anything of the sort.
However, he put the matter so strongly that he at last induced
me, against my better judgment, to consent to advance the
money, and at his earnest request I handed him the money in
notes, so that no one, even at the bank, should be aware that
such a sum had passed between us. Of course the mortgage
was drawn up in the usual form and duly executed and wit-
nessed, and I have no doubt that the liquidator of the bank
will be happy to show you your father's receipt for the money-
and the receipts given by me to him for the interest. As you
say, the matter does not pecuniarily affect you now, but at
the same time I am naturally anxious you should satisfy your-
self thoroughly that the transaction was in every respect a.
bona fide one."
Outhbert sat for some time with the letter before him.
" I suppose the dear old dad must have got into some scrape
or other years ago," he said to himself. " What it was it is
no use wondering, still less inquiring about. I am surprised
he never told me, but I suppose he could not wind himself up
to the point, and I have no doubt he intended to tell me some
day, and would have done so if he hadn't been carried off so
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 37
suddenly. Anyhow, he knew me well enough to be sure that
when I heard of this mortgage, and learned bow it had been
done, that my love and respect for him would be sufficient to
prevent my trying to search into his past. He little thought
that the mortgage would not affect me to the extent of a
penny. "Well, there is an end of it, and I won't think any
more about the matter — the secret is dead and buried ; let it
rest there. And now it is time to be off to my work."
CHAPTER IV
A year later Cuthbert Hartington was sitting in a room,
somewhat better furnished than the majority of the students'
lodgings, on the second floor of a house in Quartier Latin.
The occupant of the room below, Arnold Dampierre, was with
him. He was a man three or four years Cuthbert's junior,
handsome, grave-eyed, and slightly built ; he was a native of
Louisiana, and his dark complexion showed a taint of Mulatto
blood in his veins.
" So you have made up your mind to stay," he said.
" Certainly, I intend to see it through ; in the first place,
I don't want to break off my work, and, as you know, am
Ambitious enough to intend to get a couple of pictures finished
in time for the Salon, although whether they will hang there
is another matter altogether."
" Don't pretend to be modest, Cuthbert. You know well
•enough they will be hung, and more than that, they will be
■a success. I would wager a hundred dollars to a cent on it,
though you haven't as yet settled on the subjects. You know
that you are Goudtfs favourite pupil, and that he predicts
great things for you, and there is not one of us who does not
•agree with him. You know what Goude* said of the last thing
you did : * Gentlemen, I should be proud to be able to sign
my name in the corner of this picture — it is admirable.' "
" It was but a little thing," Cuthbert said carelessly, but
nevertheless colouring slightly. " I hope to do much better
work in the course of another year." Then he went back to
the former subject of conversation.
" Yes, I shall see it through. We have had a good many
•excitements already — the march away of the troops, and the
wild enthusiasm and the shouts of * A Berlin.' I don't think
38 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
there was a soul in the crowd who was not convinced that the
Germans were going to be crumpled up like a sheet of paper.
It was disgusting to hear the bragging in the studio, and they
were almost furious with me when I ventured to hint mildly
that the Prussians were not fools, and would not have chosen
this time to force France into a war if they had not felt that
they were much better prepared for it than Napoleon was.
Since then it has been just as exciting the other way — the
stupor of astonishment, the disappointment and rage as news
of each disaster came in ; then that awful business at Sedan,
the uprising of the scum here, the flight of the Empress, the
proclamation of the Republic, and the idiotic idea that seized
the Parisians that the Republic was a sort of fetish, and that
the mere fact of its establishment would arrest the march of
the Germans. "Well, now we are going to have a siege, I
suppose, and as I have never seen one, it will be interesting.
Of course I have no shadow of faith in the chattering news-
paper men and lawyers who have undertaken the government
of France ; but they say Trochu is a good soldier, and Paris
ought to be able to hold out for some time. The mobiles are
pouring in, and I think they will fight well, especially the
Bretons. Their officers are gentlemen, and though I am sure
they would not draw a sword for the Republic, they will fight
sturdily for France. I would not miss it for anything. I am
not sure that I sha'n't join one of the volunteer battalions
myself."
" You have nothing to do with the quarrel," his companion
said.
"No, I have nothing to do with the quarrel; but if I
were walking along the streets and saw a big lout pick a>
quarrel with a weaker one, and then proceed to smash him up
altogether, I fancy I should take a hand in the business.
The Germans deliberately forced on the war. They knew
perfectly well that when they put up a German Prince as
candidate for the throne of Spain it would bring on a war
with France. Why, we ourselves were within an ace of
going to war with France when Guizot brought about the
Spanish marriage, although it was comparatively of slight im-
portance to us that Spain and France should be united. But
to the French this thing was an absolutely vital question, for
with Germany and Spain united their very existence would
be threatened, and they had nothing for it but to fight, as
Germany knew they would have to do."
" But the candidature was withdrawn, Hartington."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 39
" Withdrawn ! ay, after the damage was done and France
in a flame of indignation. If a man meets me in the street
and pulls me by the nose, do you think that if he takes off
his hat and bows and says that he withdraws the insult I am
going to keep my hands in my pockets 1 Twice already has
France been humiliated and has stood it. Once when Prussia
made that secret treaty with Bavaria and Baden, and threw
it scornfully in her face ; the second time over that Luxem-
burg affair. Does Germany think that a great nation, jealous
of its honour and full of fiery elements, is going to stand
being kicked as often as she chooses to kick her ? You may
say that France was wrong in going to war when she was
really unprepared, and I grant she was unwise, but when a
man keeps on insulting you, you don't say to yourself I muse
go and take lessons in boxing before I fight him. You would
hit out straight, even if he were twice as big as yourself.
That is what I feel about it, Dampierre, and feeling so I
fancy that when the thing begins here I shall get too hot over
it to help joining in. Ah, here comes some of the lads."
There was a clatter of feet on the staircase, and a moment
later half a dozen young Frenchmen ran in in a state of wild
excitement.
" They have entered Versailles, a party of their horsemen
have been seen from Valerian, and a shot has been fired at
them. They have fled."
"Well, I should think they naturally would," Cuthbert
said. " A handful of horsemen are not likely to remain to be
made targets of by the guns of Valerian."
" It is the beginning of the end," one of the students ex-
claimed. " Paris will assert herself, France will come to her
assistance, and the Germans will find that it is one thing to
fight against the armies of a despot, and another to stand
before a free people in arms."
" I hope so, Rene\ but I own I have considerable doubts of
it. A man, when he begins to fight, fights because he is there
and has got to do it. If he does not kill the enemy he will
be killed, if he does not thrash the enemy he will be
thrashed, and for the time being the question whether it is
by a despot or by a provisional Government that he is ruled
does not matter to him one single jot. As to the Parisians,
we shall see. I sincerely hope they will do all that you expect
of them, but in point of fact I would rather have a battaliou
of trained soldiers than a brigade of untrained peasants or
citizens, however full of ardour they may be."
40 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"Ah, you English, it is always discipline, discipline."
"You are quite right, Rene\ that is when it comes to
fighting in the open; fighting in the streets of a town is a
very different thing. Then I grant individual pluck will do
wonders— look at Saragosa, look at Lucknow. Civilians in
both cases fought as well as the best-trained soldiers could do,
but in the field discipline is everything. Putting aside the
great battles where your feudal lords, with their brave but
undisciplined followers, met our disciplined bow and billmen,
look at the Jacquerie ; the peasants were brave enough, and
were animated by hate and despair, but they were scattered
like chaff by mere handfuls of knights and men-at-arms.
The Swiss have defended their mountains against the armies
of despots, because they had mountains to defend, and were
accustomed to scaling the rocks, and all good shots, just as
the people of a town might hold their streets. I believe that
you will hold Paris. I doubt whether the Germans will ever
be able to enter your walls, but famine will enter,. and, defend
yourselves as obstinately as you may, the time must come
when food will give out."
"As if we should wait to be starved," another of the
students said scoffingly. "If the time comes when there's
nothing to eat, we would set Paris on fire and hurl ourselves
every man upon the Germans, and fight our way through.
Do you think that they could block every road round Paris ? "
" I know nothing about military affairs, Leroux, and there-
fore don't suppose anything one way or the other. I believe
the Parisians will make a gallant defence, and they have my
heartiest good wishes and sympathy, and when all you men
join the ranks my intention is to go with you. But as to the
end, my belief is that it will be decided not by Paris but by
France."
" Bravo ! bravo ! Cuthbert," the others exclaimed ; " that
shows, indeed, that you love France. Rene' said he thought
you would shoulder a musket with us, but we said Englishmen
only fought either for duty or interest, and we did not see
why you should mix yourself up in it."
" Then you are altogether wrong. If you said Englishmen
don't fight for what you call glory, you would be right, but
you can take my word for it that, in spite of what peace-at-any-
price people may say, there are no people in the world who
are more ready to fight when they think they are right than
Englishmen. We find it hard enough to get recruits in time
of peace, but in time of war we can get any number we want.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 41
The regiments chosen to go to the front are delighted, those
who have to stay behind are furious. Glory has nothing to do
with it. It is just the love of fighting. I don't say that I am
thinking of joining one of your volunteer battalions because
I want to fight. I do so because I think you are in the
right, and that this war has been forced upon you by the
Germans, who are likely to indict horrible sufferings on the
city."
" Never mind why you are going to fight," Leroux said ;
*' you are going to fight for us, and that is enough. You are a
good comrade ; and your friend here, what is he going to do ? "
" I shall join also," Dampierre said. " You are a Republic
now, like our own, and, of course, my sympathies are wholly
with you."
" Five la Republique I Vive F American I " the students
shouted.
Cuthbert Hartington shrugged his shoulders.
" "We were just starting for a stroll to the walls to see how
they are getting on with the work of demolition. Are any of
you disposed to go with us ? "
They were all disposed, being in so great a state of excite-
ment that anything was better than staying indoors quietly.
The streets were full of people. Carts were rumbling along,
some filled with provisions, others with the furniture and
effects of the houses now being pulled down outside the
enceinte, or from the villas and residences at Sevres Meudon
and other suburbs and villages oustide the line of defence.
Sometimes they came upon battalions of newly-arrived
mobiles, who were loudly cheered by the populace as they
marched along ; sturdy, sunburnt peasants with but little of
the bearing of soldiers, but with an earnest, serious expression
that seemed to say they would do their best against the
foes who were the cause of their being torn away from their
homes and occupations. Staff-officers galloped about at full
speed ; soldiers of the garrison, or of Vinoy's Corps, who had
come in a day or two before, lounged about the streets looking
in at the shops. No small proportion of the male population
wore kepis, which showed that they belonged either to the
National Guard or to the battalions that were springing into
existence.
"Why do we not register our names to-day?" Rene*
exclaimed.
" Because a day or two will make no difference," Cuthbert
replied ; " and it is just as well to find out before we do join
42 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
something about the men in command. Let us above all
things choose a corps where they have had the good sense to
get hold of two or three army men, who have had experience
in war, as their field-officers. We don't want to be under a
worthy citizen who has been elected solely because he is
popular in his quarter, or a demagogue who is chosen because
he is a fluent speaker, and has made himself conspicuous
by his abuse of Napoleon. This is not the time for tomfoolery ;
we want men who will keep a tight hand over us, and make
us into fair soldiers. It may not be quite agreeable at first,
but a corps that shows itself efficient is sure to be chosen
when there is work to be done, and will be doing outpost duty
whilst many of the others will be kept within the walls as
being of no practical use. Just at present everything is topsy-
turvy, but you may be sure that Trochu and Vinoy, and the
other generals, will gradually get things into shape, and will
not be long before they find what corps are to be depended on
and what are not."
Crossing the river, they made their way out beyond the
walls. Even the light-hearted students were sobered by the
sight beyond. Thousands of men were f ngaged on the work
of demolition. Where but ten days since stood villas surrounded
by gardens and trees, there was now a mere waste of bricks and
mortar stretching down to the forts of Issy and Vanves. The
trees had all been felled and, for the most part, cut up and
carried into Paris for firewood. Most of the walls were
levelled, and frequent crashes of masonry showed that these
last vestiges of bright and happy homes would soon disappear.
A continuous stream of carts and foot passengers came along
the road to the gate — the men grim and bitter, the women
crying, and all laden with the most valued of their little bo-
longings. Numbers of cattle and herds of sheep, attended by
guards, grazed in the fields beyond the forts.
" By Jove ! Dampierre," Cuthbert said, "if I hadn't made up
my mind to join a corps before, this scene would decide me.
It is pitiful to see all these poor people, who have no more to
do with the war than the birds in the air, rendered homeless.
A good many of the birds have been rendered homeless too,
but fortunately for them it is autumn instead of spring, and
they have neither nests nor nestlings to think of, and can fly
away to the woods on the slopes below Meudon."
" What a fellow you are, Hartington, to be thinking of the
birds when there are tens of thousands of people made
miserable."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 43
" I fancy the birds are just as capable of feeling misery as
we are," Cuthbert said quietly; "not perhaps over trivial
matters, though they do bicker and quarrel a good deal among
themselves, but they have their great calamities, and die of
thirst, of hunger, and of cold. I remember during a very hard
frost some years ago our garden was full of dying birds, though
my father had bushels of grain thrown to them every day. It
was one of the most painful sights I ever saw, and I know I
felt pretty nearly as much cut up at it as I do now. I hate
to see dumb animals suffer. There is a sort of uncomplaining
misery about them that appeals to one, at anyrate, appeals to
me, infinitely. These poor fellows are suffering too, you will
say. Yes, but they have their consolation. They promise
themselves that as soon as they get into Paris they will join
a corps and take vengeance on those who have hurt them.
They may think, and perhaps with reason, that when the
trouble is over they will find their cottages still standing, and
will take up life again as they left it. They have at least the
consolation of swearing, a consolation which, as far as I know,
is denied to animals and birds."
"You are a rum fellow, Hartington, and I never know
when you are in earnest and when you are not."
" Let us go back," Rene* Caillard, who, with the others, had
been standing silently, said abruptly. " This is too painful ; I
feel suffocated to think that such a humiliation should fall on
Paris. Surely all civilised Europe will rise and cry out
against this desecration." He turned, and with his comrades
walked back towards the gate. Cuthbert followed with
Arnold Dampierre.
" That is just the way with them," the former said ; "it
would have been no desecration had they encamped before
Berlin, but now, because it is the other way, they almost
expect a miracle from heaven to interpose in their favour.
Curious people the French. Their belief in themselves is firm
and unshakable, and whatever happens, it is the fault of
others and not of themselves. Now, in point of fact, from
all we hear, the Germans are conducting the war in a very
much more humane and civilised way than the French would
have done if they had been the invaders, and yet they treat
their misfortunes as if high heaven had never witnessed such
calamities. Why, the march of the Germans has been a
peaceful procession in comparison with Sherman's march or
Sheridan's forays. They have sacked no city, their path is not
marked by havoc and conflagration ; they fight our men, and
44 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
maybe loot deserted houses, bat, as a rule, unarmed citizens
and peasants have little to complain of."
" That is true enough," the other agreed reluctantly.
" My opinion is," Cuthbert went on, " that all these poor
people who are flocking into Paris are making a hideous
mistake. If they stopped in their villages, the betting is
that no harm would have come to them; whereas now they
have left their homes unguarded and untenanted — and it
would not be human nature if the Germans did not occupy
them — while in Paris they will have to go through all the
privations and hardships of a siege, and perhaps of a bom-
bardment; besides, there are so many more hungry mouths
to feed. In my opinion Trochu and the Provisional Govern-
ment would have acted very much more wisely had they issued
an order that no strangers, save those whose houses have been
destroyed, should be allowed to enter the city, and advising
the inhabitants of all the villages round either to remain
quietly in their homes, or to retire to places at a distance.
Fighting men might, of course, come in, but all useless mouths
will only hasten the date when famine will force the city to
surrender."
" You seem very sure that it will surrender sooner or later,
Hartington," Dampierre said irritably. " My opinion is that
all France will rise and come to her rescue."
" If Bazaine cuts his way out of Metz they may do it, but
we have heard nothing of his moving, and the longer he stays
the more difficulty he will have of getting out. He has a fine
army with him, but if he once gives time to the Germans to
erect batteries commanding every road out of the place, he will
soon find it well-nigh impossible to make a sortie. Except
that army France has nothing she can really rely upon. It is
all very well to talk of a general rising, but you can't create an
army in the twinkling of an eye ; and a host of half -disciplined
peasants, however numerous, would have no chance against an
enemy who have shown themselves capable of defeating the
whole of the trained armies of France. No, no, Burnside, you
must make up your mind beforehand that you are going in on
the losing side. Paris may hold out long enough to secure reason-
able terms, but I fancy that is about all that will come of it."
The other did not reply. He had something of the un-
reasoning faith that pervaded France, that a Republic was
invincible, and that France would finally emerge from the
struggle victorious.
" We shall try and find out to-night about the corps," Rene"
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 45
Caillard said, as the others overtook them some distance inside
the gates. "After what we have seen to-day we are all
determined to join without delay. I heard last night from
some men at Yeillant's that they and a good many others
have put their names down for a corps that is to be called the
Chasseur des Ecoles. They said they understood that it was
to be composed entirely of students. Not all art, of course,
but law and other schools."
" That would be just the thing," Cuthbert said, " if they
can only get some good officers. One likes the men one has to
work with to be a little of one's own class. Well, if the
officers are all right, you can put my name down. I suppose
there is no occasion for me to go myself."
" Of course there is occasion, lazy one. You have to be
sworn in."
Cuthbert nodded.
"I suppose we sha'n't have to give up work altogether?"
"I should think not," Rene* said. "I suppose we shall
have two or three hours 1 drill in the morning, and nothing
more till the time for action comes. Of course, the troops and
the mobiles will do the work at the forts and walls, and we
shall be only called out if the Prussians venture to attack us,
or if we march out to attack them."
" So much the better. I came here to work, and I want
to stick to it, and not to waste my time in parades and sentry
duty. Well, we shall meet at the studio in the morning, and
you can give us your news then."
Some fifteen young men met on the following morning at
Goud#s studio.
"Now, gentlemen," said the artist, a short man, with a
large head and an abundant crop of yellow hair falling on to
his shoulders, " please to attend to business while you are here.
Paint ; you have plenty of time outside to discuss affairs."
M. Goude' was an artist of considerable talent, but of
peppery temper. He had at one time gone to war with the
Hanging Committee of the Salon because one of his paintings
had been so badly hung that he declared it to be nothing
short of an insult, and had forthwith proceeded to publish
the most violent strictures upon them. The result was, that
on the following year his pictures were not hung at all, where-
upon, after another onslaught upon them, he had declared his
determination never again to submit a picture to the judg-
ment of men whose natural stupidity was only equalled by
their ignorance of art.
46 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
This tow he had for eight years adhered to, only occasion-
Ally painting a picture and selling it privately, bat devoting
himself almost entirely to the studio he had opened when ho
ceased exhibiting. He was an admirable teacher, and his list
of pupils was always full. He was an exacting master, and
would take none but students who showed marked ability.
As a preliminary, a picture had to be presented to him for ex-
amination, and, at least, three out of four of the canvases
sufficed to ensure their author's prompt rejection.
It was therefore considered an honour to be one of Goud£'s
pupils, but it had its drawbacks. His criticisms were severe
and bitter, and he fell into violent passions, when, as Leroux
once observed, he looked like the yellow dwarf in a rage.
Outhbert had heard of him from Terrier, who said that Goud^
had the reputation of being by far the best master in Paris.
He had presented himself to him as soon as he arrived there.
His reception had not been favourable.
" It is useless, monsieur," the master had said abruptly ;
" there are two objections. In the first place, you are too old ;
in the second place, you are a foreigner, and I do not care to
teach foreigners. I never had but one h$kf and I do not
want another. He was a Scotchman, and because I told him
one day, when he had produced an atrocious daub, that he
was an imbecile pig, he seized me and shook me till my teeth
chattered in my head, and then kicked over the easel and
went out."
"You may call me an imbecile pig if you like," Outhbert
said, with his quiet smile ; " it would hurt me in no way. I
have come over to learn and I am told you are the best master
in Paris. When a man is a great master he must be per-
mitted to have his peculiarities; and if he likes to treat grown-
up men as children, of course he can do so, for are we not
children in art by his side."
M. Goude* was mollified, but he did not show it.
" Have you brought any canvases with you ? "
" I have brought the last two things I did before leaving
London."
" Well, you can bring them if you like," the master said
ungraciously, "but, I warn you, it will be useless. You
English cannot paint, even the best of you ; you have no soul,
you are monotonous. But you may bring them."
An hour later Cuthbert returned to the studio, which was
now occupied by the students.
"You are prompt," the master said, looking round from
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 47
the student whose work he was correcting with no small
«mount of grumbling and objurgation. " Put jour things on
those two spare easels ; I will look at them presently."
Seeing that several of the other students were smoking,
Outhbert filled and lighted his pipe, calmly placed the pictures
on the easels without taking off the cloths in which they were
wrapped, and then pat his hands into the pockets of his velvet
jacket and looked round the room. After his experience of
some of the luxuriously-arranged studios at St John's Wood,
the room looked bare and desolate. There was no carpet and
not a single chair or lounge of any description. Some fifteen
young fellows were painting. All wore workmen's blouses.
All had moustaches, and most of them had long hair. They
appeared intent on their work, but smiles and winks were
furtively exchanged, and the careless nonchalance of this tall
young Englishman evidently amused them. In four or ^ve
minutes M. Goude' turned round and walked towards the easels.
Outhbert stepped to them and removed the cloths. The master
stopped abruptly, looked at them without speaking for a
minute or two, then walked up and closely examined them.
" They are entirely your own work 1 " he asked.
" Certainly ; I did not show either of them to my master
until I had finished them."
They were companion pictures. The one was a girl stand-
ing in a verandah covered with a grape vine, through which
bright rays of sunshine shone, one of them falling full on her
face. She was evidently listening, and there was a look of
joyous expectancy in her face. Underneath, on the margin of
the canvas, was written in charcoal, " Hope." The other re-
presented the same figure darkly dressed, with a wan, hopeless
look in her face, standing on a rock at the edge of an angry
sea, over which she was gazing ; while the sky overhead was
-dark and sombre, without a rift in the hurrying clouds. It
was labelled " Despair."
For two or three minutes longer M. Goude* looked silently
-at the pictures, and then, turning suddenly, called out, " At-
tention, gentlemen. Regard these pictures, they are the work
of this gentleman who desires to enter my studio. In the
eight years I have been teaching I have had over two hundred
canvases submitted to me, but not one like these. I need not
say that I shall be glad to receive him. He has been well
taught. His technique is good and he has genius. Gentle-
men, I have the honour to present to you Monsieur Cuthbert
Hartington, who is henceforth one of you."
48 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
The students crowded round the pictures with exclamations
of surprise and admiration. It was not until M. Goude* said
sharply, " To work," that they returned to their easels.
" You will find canvases in that cupboard if you like to set
to work at once. Choose your own size and subject and
sketch it out in chalk. I should like to see how you work.
Ah, you have a portfolio. I will look through your sketches
this afternoon if you will leave it here."
Cuthbert chose a canvas from a pile ready stretched,
selected a sketch from his portfolio of a wayside inn in Nor-
mandy, pinned it on the easel above the canvas, and then
began to work. M. Goude* did not come near him until the
work was finished for the morning, then he examined what he
had just done.
"You work rapidly," he said, "and your eye is good.
You preserve the exact proportions of the sketch, which is.
excellent, though it was evidently done hastily, and unless I
mistake was taken before you had begun really to paint.
You did not know how to use colour, though the effect is sur-
prisingly good, considering your want of method at the time.
I will look through your portfolio while I am having my
lunch. In an hour we resume work." So saying, he took up
the portfolio and left the room. The students now came up
to Cuthbert and introduced themselves one by one.
" You see our master in his best mood to-day," one said.
" I never have seen him so gracious, but no wonder. Now we
have no ceremony here. I am Ren£, and this is Pierre, and
this Jean, and you will be Cuthbert."
" It is our custom in England," Cuthbert said, " that a
new boy always pays his footing, so, gentlemen, I hope you
will sup with me this evening. I am a straogor and know
nothing of Paris ; at anyrate, nothing of your quarter, so I
must ask two of you to act as a committee with me, and to
tell me where we can get a good supper and enjoy ourselves."
From that time Cuthbert had been one of the brotherhood
and shared in all their amusements, entering into them with
a gaiety and heartiness that charmed them and caused them
to exclaim frequently that he could not be an Englishman,
and that his accent was but assumed. Arnold Dampierre had
been admitted two months later. He had, the master said,
distinct talent, but his work was fitful and uncertain. Some
days he would work earnestly and steadily, but more often he
was listless and indolent^ exciting M. Goudtf's wrath to fever
heat.
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 49
Among the students he was by no means a favourite. He
did not seem to understand a joke, and several times blazed
out so passionately that Cathbert had much trouble in sooth-
ing matters down, explaining to the angry students that
Dampierre was of hot, southern blood, and that his words must
not be taken seriously. Americans, he said, especially in the
south, had no idea of what the English call chaff, and he
begged them, as a personal favour, to abstain from joking
with him, or it would only lead to trouble in the studio.
CHAPTER V
Thbbe was no more talk after the master had given the order
for work. Most of the easels were shifted round and fresh
positions taken up, then there was a little pause.
" She is late," M. Goude* said, with an impatient stamp of
the foot. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the
door opened, and a girl entered.
"Good-morning, messieurs," and she made a sweeping
curtsey.
" You are five minutes late, Minette."
" Mafoi, master, what would you have with the Prussians
in sight, and all Paris in the streets — five minutes mean
neither here nor there. I expected praise for having come
at all."
"There, there," the artist said hastily, "run into your
closet and change, we are all waiting."
She walked across the room to a door in the corner, with
an expression of careless defiance in her face, and re-appeared
in five minutes in the dress of a Mexican peasant girl attired
for &/Ste. The dress suited her admirably. She was rather
above the middle height, her figure lithe and supple, with ex-
ceptionally graceful curves ; her head was admirably poised on
her neck ; her hair was very dark, and her complexion Spanish
rather than French. Her father was from Marseilles, and her
mother from Aries.
Minette was considered the best model in Paris, and M.
Goude* had the merit of having discovered her. Three years
before, when passing through a street, inhabited by the poorer
class of workmen, in Montmartre, he had seen her leaning
D
50 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
carelessly against a doorway. He was struck with the easy
grace of her pose. He walked up the street, and then re-
turned. As he did so, he saw her spring out and encounter
an older woman, and at once enter upon a fierce altercation
with her. It was carried on with all the accompaniment of
southern gesture, and ceased as suddenly as it began, the sir),
with a gesture of scorn and contempt, turning and walking
back to the post she had left with a mien as haughty as that
of a queen dismissing an insolent subject.
" That girl would be worth a fortune as a model," the
artist muttered. " I must secure her, her action and gesture
are superb." He walked up to her, lifted his broad hat, and
said, " Mademoiselle, I am an artist. My name is Goude\ I
have an academy for painting, and I need a model. The work
is not hard ; it is but to sit or stand for two or three hours of a
morning, and the remuneration I should offer would be five
francs a day for this. Have I your permission to speak to
your parents f "
There was an angry glitter in her eye — a change in her
pose that, slight as it was, reminded the artist of a cat about
to spring.
" A model for a painter, monsieur ? Is it that you dare
to propose that I shall sit without clothes to be stared at
by young men ? I have heard of such things. Is this what
monsieur wishes ? "
" Not at all, not at all," M. Goude* said hastily. " Made-
moiselle would always be dressed. She would be sometimes
a Roman lady, sometimes a Spanish peasant, a Moorish girl,
a Breton or other maiden. Tou would always be free to
refuse any costume that you considered unsuitable."
Her expression changed again. " If that is all, I might
do it," she said ; " it is an easy way of earning money. How
often would you want me % "
" I should say three times a week, and on the other three
days you would have no difficulty in obtaining similar work
among artists of my own acquaintance. Here is my card and
address."
The girl took it carelessly.
" I will speak to my father about it this evening when he
comes home from work. Tou are quite sure that I shall not
have to undress at all ?"
" I have assured mademoiselle already that nothing of the
sort will be required of her. There are models, indeed, who
pose for figure, but these are a class apart, and I can assure
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 51
mademoiselle that her feelings of delicacy will be absolutely
respected."
The next day Minette Dufaure appeared at the 'studio, and
had ever since sat for all the female figures required. The air
of disdain and defiance she had first shown soon passed away,
and she entered with zest and eagerness upon her work. She
-delighted in being prettily and becomingly dressed. She
listened intelligently to the master's descriptions of the char-
acters that she was to assume, and delighted him with the
readiness with which she assumed suitable poses, and the
steadiness with which she maintained them.
There was nothing of the stiffness of the model in her
attitudes. They had the charm of being unstudied and
natural, and whether as a Bacchanal, a peasant girl, or a
■Gaulish amazon, she looked the part equally well ; her face
was singularly mobile, and although this was an inferior con-
sideration to the master, she never failed to represent the
•expression appropriate to the character she assumed.
Her reputation was soon established among the artists who
occasionally dropped into Goud#s studio, and her spare time
was fully occupied, and that at much higher rates of pay than
those she earned with him. After the first two or three
months she came but twice a week there, as that amply
sufficed for the needs of the studio. On his telling her that
he should no longer require her to come three times a week,
as his pupils had other things to learn besides drawing the
female figure, the master said, —
" I must pay you higher in future, Minette. I know that
my friends are paying you five francs an hour."
" A bargain is a bargain," she said. " You came to me first,
and but for you I should never have earned a penny. Now
we have moved into a better street and have comfortable
lodgings. We have everything we want, and I am laying by
money fast. Tou have always treated me well, and I like
you, though your temper is even worse than my father's. I
shall keep to my agreement as long as you keep to yours, and
if you do not I shall not come here at all."
With the students Minette was a great favourite. In the
pause of five minutes every half-hour to allow her to change
Iter position, she chatted and laughed with them with the
frankest good temper, more than holding her own in the
sallies of chaff. When they occasionally made excursions in
a body into the country to sketch and paint, she was always
of the party, going in the capacity of comrade instead of that
52 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
of a model, contributing a full share to the lunch-basket, but
ready to pose as a peasant girl with a faggot on her head, a
gleaner, or a country woman with a baby on her lap, accord-
ing to the scene and requirements. It was a matter of course
that Minette should be present at every supper-party or little-
fete among the students, always being placed at the seat of
honour at the head of the table, and joining in all the fun of
those merry re-unions. For a time she treated all alike as
comrades, and accepted no compliments save those so extrava-
gant as to provoke general laughter. Gradually, however, it
came to be understood among the students that Minette made
an exception in the case of Arnold Dampierre, and that on
occasions when they happened to break up in pairs he was
generally by her side.
" One never can tell what women will do," Rene* Caillard
said one evening, when five or six of them were sitting smok-
ing together. " Now, Minette might have the pick of us."
" No, no, Rene*," one of the others protested, " most of us.
are suited already."
" Well, several of us, then. I am at present unattached,,
and so are Andre and Pierre and Jean ; so is Cuthbert.
Now, putting us aside, no woman in her senses could hesitate
between the Englishman and Dampierre. He has a better
figure, is stronger and better looking. He is cleverer, and is
as good-tempered as the American is bad ; and yet she takes
a fancy for Dampierre, and treats all the rest of us, including
the Englishman, as if we were boys."
"I fancy women like deference," Pierre Leroux said.
" She is a good comrade with us all ; she laughs and jokes,
with us as if she were one of ourselves. Now the American
very seldom laughs and never jokes. He treats her as if she
were a duchess, and takes her altogether seriously. I believe
he would be capable of marrying her."
The others all burst into a laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" Cuthbert asked as he
entered the room at the moment.
"Pierre is just saying that he thinks the American ia
capable of marrying Minette."
" I hope not," Cuthbert said, more seriously than he gener-
ally spoke. " Minette is altogether charming as she is. She
is full of fun and life ; she is clever and sparkling. There is
no doubt that in her style she is very pretty. As to her grace
it needs no saying. I think she is an honest, good girl, but
the idea of marrying her would frighten me. We see the-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 53
■surface, and it is a very pleasant one, but it is only the surface.
Do you think a woman could look as she does in some of her
poses and not feel it. We have never seen her in a passion,
but if she got into one it would be terrible. When she flashes
out sometimes it is like a tongue of flame from a slumbering
volcano. You would feel that there might be an eruption
that would sweep everything before it. As you know, I gave
up painting her after the first two months ; but I sketch her
in every pose, not always her whole figure, but her face, and
keep the sketches for use some day. I was looking through
them only yesterday and I said to myself, ' This woman is
•capable of anything. She might be a Joan of Arc, or a
liucretia Borgia. She is a puzzle to me altogether. Put
her in a quiet, happy home and she might turn out one of the
hest of women. Let her be thrown into turbulent times and
she might become a demon of mischief. At present she is
-altogether undeveloped. She is two-and-twenty in years, but
a child, or rather a piquant, amusing young girl in manner,
•and perhaps in disposition. She is an enigma of which I
should be sorry to have to undertake the solution. As she
seems I like her immensely, but when I try to fathom what
*he really is, she frightens me."
The others laughed.
" Poor little Minette," Pierre Leroux said. " You are too
hard upon her altogether, Cuthbert. The girl is a born
octrees and would make her fortune on the stage. She can
represent, by the instinct of art, passions which she has never
felt. She can be simple and majestic, a laughing girl and a
furious woman, a Christian martyr and a Bacchanal, simply
because she has mobile features, intelligence, sentiment,
•emotion, and a woman's instinct, that is all. She is a jolly
little girl, and the only fault I have to find with her is
that she has the bad taste to prefer that gloomy American to
me."
" Well, I hope you are right, Pierre, though I hold my own
opinion unchanged — at anyrate, I sincerely trust that Dam-
pierre will not make a fool of himself with her. You men do
not like him because you don't understand him. You are gay
and light-hearted, you take life as it comes. You form con-
nections easily and lightly and break them off again a few
months later just as easily. Dampierre takes life earnestly.
He is indolent, but that is a matter of race and blood. He
would not do a dishonourable action to save his life. I believe
be is the heir to a large fortune, and he can, therefore, afford
54 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
to work at his art in a dilettante sort of manner, and not like
us poor beggars, who look forward to earning our livelihood by
it. He is passionate, I grant, but tbat is the effect of his
bringing up on a plantation in Louisiana, surrounded by his
father's slaves, for though they are now free by law, the nature
of the negro is unchanged, and servitude is his natural posi-
tion. The little white master is treated like a god; every
whim is humoured, and there being no restraining hand upon
him, it would be strange if he did not become hasty and some-
what arrogant. Not that there is any arrogance about Dam-
pierre— he is unaffected and simple in his tastes, except in the
matter of his lodgings. I question if there is one of us who
spends less than he does, but he no more understands you
than you understand him ; he takes your badinage seriously,
and cannot understand that it is harmless fun. However, he-
is better in that respect than when he first came over, and in
time no doubt his touchiness will die out. God forbid that he
should ever spoil his life by such a hideous mistake as marry-
ing Minette. Except on the principle that people are always-
attracted by their opposites, I can't account for his infatuation
for this girl, or for her taking up with him. He has never
alluded to the subject to me. I don't know that her name-
has ever been mentioned between us. I agree with you that
I think he is in earnest about her, but my conclusion is
certainly not formed on anything he has ever said himself.
I have often thought that a good deal of his irritability arises
from his annoyance at her fun and easy way with us all. Ho
never comes to any of our little meetings. If he is really in
earnest about her I can understand that it would be a terrible
annoyance to him to see her taking a lead in such meetings
and associating so freely with your, let us say, temporary
wives. I have seen him on some of our sketching excursions,
walk away, unable to contain his anger, when you have all
been laughing and joking with her."
" I consider that to be an insolence," Rene* said hotly.
"No, no, Rene. Imagine yourself five years older, and
making a fortune rapidly by your art, in love with some girl
whom you hope to make your wife. I ask you whether you
would like to see her laughing and chatting en bonne camarade
^with a lot of wild young students? Still less, if you can
imagine such a thing, joining heart and soul in the fun of
one of their supper-parties. You would not like it, would
you ¥ "
"No," Rene' admitted frankly. "I own I shouldn't. Of
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 55
course, I cannot even fancy such a thing occurring, but if it
did I can answer for it that I should not be able to keep my
temper. I think, now that you put it so, we shall be able to
make more allowances for the American in future."
To this the others all agreed, and henceforth the tension
that had not unfrequently existed between Dampierre and
his fellow-students was sensibly relaxed.
" You were not here last week, Minette," M. Goude* said, as
he went up on to the platform at the end of the room to arrange
her pose.
" I did not think that you would expect me, master," she
said, "but even if you had I could not have come. Do you
think that one could stand still like a statue for hours when
great things were being done, when the people were getting
their liberty again, and the flag of the despot was being pulled
down from the Tuilleries. I have blood in my veins, master,
not ice."
" Bah," M. Groud^ exclaimed. " What difference does it
make to you, or to anyone, as far as I see, whether the taxes
are levied in the name of an emperor or of a republic 1 Do
you think a republic is going to feed you any better and
reduce your rents, or to permit Belleville and Montmartre to
become masters of Paris. In a short time they will grumble
at the Republic just as they grumble at the Emperor. It is
folly and madness. The Emperor is nothing to me, the
Government is nothing to me. I have to pay my taxes — they
are necessary — for the army has to be kept up, and the
Government paid ; beyond that, I do not care a puff of my
pipe what Government may call itself."
"You will see what you will se#>" said the girl, senten-
tiously.
" I dare say, Minette, as long as I have eyes I shall do that
Now, don't waste any more time."
" What am I to be, master ¥ "
" A Spanish peasant girl dancing ; hold these slips of wood
in your hand, they are supposed to be castanets ; now, just
imagine that music is playing and that you are keeping time
to it with them, and swaying your body, rather than moving
your feet, to the music."
After two or three changes she struck an attitude that
satisfied the master.
" That will do, Minette, stand as you are ; you cannot im-
prove that. Now, gentlemen, to work."
She was standing with one foot advanced, as if in the act
56 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
of springing on to it ; one of her arms was held above her
head, the other advanced across her body ; her head was thrown
back, and her balance perfect.
Cuthbert looked up from his work, took out a note-book,
and rapidly sketched the figure ; and then, putting his book
into his pocket again, returned to his work, the subject of
which was a party of Breton mobiles, with stacked arms under
some trees in the Champs Elysee. He had taken the sketch
two days before, and was now transferring it on to canvas.
" I should not be surprised, " he thought to himself, " if the
girl is right, and if there is not serious trouble brewing in the
slums of Paris.
" As soon as these fellows find out that they are no better
off for the change, and that a republic does not mean beer
and skittles, or, as they would like, unlimited absinthe and
public workshops, with short hours and high pay, they will
begin to get savage, and then there will be trouble. The
worst of it is, one can never rely upon the troops, and dis-
cipline is certainly more relaxed than usual, now that the
Emperor has been upset, and every jack thinks himself as good
as his master. Altogether, I think we are likely to have lively
times here before long. I am not sure that the enemies within
are not likely to prove as great a danger to Paris as the foe
without. It was a happy idea of mine to come to Paris, and
I am likely to get subjects enough to last for a lifetime,
though I don't know that battle-scenes are altogether in my
line. It does not seem to me that I have any line in particular
yet. It is a nuisance having to decide on that, because I have
heard Wilson say an artist, like a writer, must have a line,
and when he has once taken it up he must stick to it If a
man once paints sea-pieces, the public look to get sea-pieces
from him, and won't take anything else. It is the same thing
if he accustoms them to Eastern, or Spanish, or any other
line.
" It may be that this war will decide the matter for me,
which will be a comfort and relief, though I doubt if I shall
ever be able to stick in one groove. Goud<$ said only yesterday
that I had better go on working at both figure and landscape.
At present he could not give an opinion as to which I was
likely to succeed in best, but that he rather fancied that
scenes of life and action, combined with good backgrounds,
were my forte, and battle-scenes would certainly seem to come
under that category."
After work was over, Cuthbert went out by himself and
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 57
spent the afternoon in sketching. He was engaged on a group
of soldiers listening to one of their number reading a bulletin
of the latest news, when his eye fell on a young lady walking
with a brisk step towards him. He started, then closed his
note-book suddenly, and as she was on the point of passing
turned to her and held out his hand.
" Have you dropped from the skies, Miss Brander ? "
There was surprise, but neither embarrassment nor emotion
on her face as she said frankly, —
" Why, Cuthbert Hartington, this is a curious meeting. I
did know you were in Paris, for I had heard as much from my
father, but I had no idea of your address, and I have wondered
many times since I came here, five weeks ago, whether we
should run against each other. No, I have not dropped from
the clouds, and you ought to have known I should be here. I
told you that I was going to have a year in Germany, and then a
year in France. My year in Germany was up two months ago.
I went home for a fortnight, and here I am as a matter ol
"Course."
" I might have known you would carry out your programme
exactly as you had sketched it, but I thought that the dis-
turbed state of things over here might have induced you to
•defer that part of the plan until a more appropriate season.
Surely Paris is not just at present a pleasant abode for a young
lady, and is likely to be a much more unpleasant one later on."
" I think there could hardly be a more appropriate time
for being here, Mr Hartington. One could have no better
time for studying social problems than the present, when con-
ventionalities have gone to the winds and one sees people as
they are. But this is hardly the place to talk. I am board-
ing with a family at No. 15 Avenue de Passy. Will you come
and see me there % "
" Certainly I will, if you will allow me. What will be a
convenient time ? "
" I should say three o'clock in the afternoon. They are all
out then except Madame Michaud and her little daughter, and
we shall be able to chat comfortably, which we could not do if
you came in the evening, when the father is at home and two
boys who are away at school during the day. Will you come
to-morrow V 9
" Yes, my afternoons are free at present."
She held out her hand, and then walked away with a
steady, business-like step. Cuthbert stood watching her till
she had disappeared in the crowd.
58 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" She has no more sentiment in her composition at present,*
he said to himself, with a laugh that had some bitterness in it,
" than a nether millstone. Her mind is so wrapped up in this
confounded fad of hers that there is no room in it for anything
else. I might have been a cousin, instead of a man she had
refused, for any embarrassment or awkwardness she felt at our
sudden meeting. It clearly made no impression at all upon her.
She remembers, of course, that she met me at Newquay. I don't
suppose she has really forgotten that I asked her to be my wif e>
but it was a mere incident, and affected her no more than if I had
asked her to buy a picture and she had refused. I wish to good-
ness I had not met her again. I had got fairly over it, and was
even beginning to wonder how I ever could have wanted to*
marry anyone so different in every way from the sort of woman
I fancied I should have fallen in love with. How foolish of
her coming over to Paris at this time. Well, I daresay it has
all saved a lot of trouble. I suppose at that time Brander
would have been delighted at the prospect, but it would have
been a very different thing after the failure of the bank. I
don't think he would have made a pleasant father-in-law under
the present circumstances. He is an old fox. I always thought
so, and I think so more than ever now. It has been a queer
affair altogether. I wonder what Mary thinks of it all. I
suppose she will talk to me about it to-morrow afternoon. By
the way, I have to go this evening with Ren^ and the others
to be sworn in or attested, or whatever they call it, at the
Mairie. Their report as to the officers is satisfactory. I have
heard that Longfranc was an excellent officer before he came
into some money, cut the army and took up art. I have no
doubt he will make a good major, and he understands the men
better than most army men would do. They say the colonel
is a good man too, and was very popular with his regiment
before he retired from the service."
CHAPTER VI
On inquiry of the concierge at No. 15 Avenue de Passy, Cuth-
bert was informed that Madame Michaud lived on the third
floor. On ascending and ringing the bell, the door was opened
by an elderly servant.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 59
"I have called to see Mademoiselle Braoder, is she at
home ? "
" She is, sir."
"Would you give her my card, if you please?"
"Mademoiselle is expecting you," the servant said, and
led the way at once into a sitting-room.
It was of the usual type of such rooms— of good size, but
bare, with bees-waxed flooring, plainly frescoed walls, and a
ceiling coloured grey and bordered with painted arabesques.
Two or three small rugs relieved the bareness of the floor.
An oval table on very thin legs stood in the middle; the
chairs and couch seemed to have been made to match it, and
had an eminently bare and uncomfortable appearance ; a vase
of flowers stood on a spindle-legged little table in front of one
of the windows, which opened down to the ground. Some
coloured prints in frames of stained wood hung on the walls,,
and some skimpy curtains draped the windows.
Mary Brander was seated with a writing-pad on her knee
at the window unoccupied by the vase and its support. Sh*
put the writing-pad and a book, evidently a large diary, down
on the floor.
"You are punctual to the minute, Mr Hartington. I
should never have credited you with that virtue. "
"Nor with any other virtue, I imagine, Miss Brander.
he said, with a smile.
" Oh, yes, I do. I credit you with numbers of them. Now
draw that chair up to the window — it is not comfortable, but
it is the best of them — and let us talk. Now, in the first
place, you don't know how sorry, how dreadfully sorry I have
been about what has happened at home. I was shocked
indeed at the news of the sudden death of your dear father.
He was always so kind when he came to see us, and I liked
him so much ; I felt for you deeply. It must have been an
awful shock for you. I heard it a few days after I got to
Dresden. Then came the other news about that terrible
failure and its consequences. It seemed too shocking alto-
gether that you should have lost the dear old place, but I do
think I was most shocked of all when I heard that my father
had bought it. Somehow it did not seem to be right. Of
course, it must have been, but it did not seem so to me. Did
it to you, Cuthbert ? " and she looked at him wistfully.
" I have no doubt it was all right," he said, " and as it
was to be sold I think I preferred it should be to your
father rather than anybody else. I believe I rather liked
60 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
the thought that as it was not to be my home it would
be yours."
She shook her head.
" It does not seem to me to be natural at all, and I was
miserable all the time I was there the other day."
"Your father respected my wishes in all respects, Mary.
I believe he kept on all the old servants who chose to stay.
He promised me that he would not sell my father's hunters
and that no one should ride them, but that they should be
pensioners as long as they lived ; and the same with the dogs ;
and that at any time if I moved into quarters where I could
keep a dog or two, he would send up my two favourites to me."
" Yes, they are all there. I went out and gave cakes to
the dogs and sugar to the horses every day, and talked to
them, and I think regularly had a cry over them. It was
very foolish, but I could not help it. It did all seem so
wrong and so pitiful. I could not learn much about you from
father. He said that you had only written once to him on
business since things were finally settled, but that you had
mentioned that you were going to Paris, and he said too — "
and she hesitated for a moment, " that although you had lost
Pairclose and all the property you had enough to live upon in
a way — a very poor way — but still enough for that."
" Not such a very poor way," he said. " There is no secret
about it. I had five thousand pounds that had been settled
on my mother, and fortunately that was not affected by the
smash, so I have two hundred a year, which is amply sufficient
for my wants."
" It is enough, of course, to live upon in a way,' Cuthbert,
but so different from what you were accustomed to."
" I don't suppose you spend two hundred a year," he said,
with a smile.
" Oh, no, but a woman is so different. That is just what
I have, and, of course, I don't spend anything like all of it ;
but, as I said, it is so different with you, who have been accus-
tomed to spend ever so much more."
" I don't find myself in any way pinched. I can assure
you my lodgings in the Quartier Latin are not what you
would call sumptuous, but they are comfortable enough, and
they do not stand me in a quarter of what I paid for my
chambers in London. I can dine sumptuously on a franc and
a half. Another franc covers my breakfast, which is gener-
ally cafi-au4ait and two eggs; another franc suffices for
supper. So you see that my necessaries of life, including
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 61
lodgings and fuel, do not come to anything like half my
income, and I can spend the rest in riotous Hying if I choose."
The girl looked at him earnestly.
" You are not growing cynical, I hope, Cuthbert ? "
" I hope not. I am certainly not conscious of it. I don't
look cynical, do IV
" No," she said doubtfully. " I do not see any change in
you ; but what do you do with yourself 1"
I paint," he said.
Really ! "
" Really and truly. I have become what you wanted me to-
become, a very earnest person indeed, and some day people
may even take to buying my pictures."
" I never quite know when you are in earnest, Cuthbert ;
but if it is true it is very good news. Do you mean that you
are really studying?"
"I am indeed. I work at the studio of one M. Goude, and
if you choose to inquire, you will find he is perhaps the best
master in Paris. I am afraid the Prussians are going to in-
terrupt my studies a good deal. This has made me angry,
and I have enlisted — that is to say, been sworn in as a
member of the Chasseurs des £coles, which most of the
students at Goude^s have joined."
" What ! You are going to fight against the Germans ! "
she exclaimed indignantly. "You never can mean it,
Cuthbert,"
"I mean it, I can assure you," he said, amused at her
indignation. "I suppose you are almost Germanised, and
regard their war against the French as a just and holy
cause."
" Certainly I do," she said, " though, of course, I should
not say so here. I am in France, and living in a French
family, and naturally I would pay nothing that would hurt
the feelings of the people round me; but there can be no
doubt that the French deserve all the misfortunes that have
fallen upon them. They would have invaded Germany, and
all these poor young Germans have been torn away from their
friends and families to fight."
" So have these young Frenchmen. To my mind the war
was deliberately forced upon France, but I think we had
better agree to differ on this subject. You have been among
Germans, and it is not unnatural that you should have
accepted their version. I have been living among Frenchmen,
and although I do not say that it would not have been much
<>2 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
wiser if they had avoided falling into the pit dug for them,
ray sympathies are wholly with them, except in this outburst
of folly that has resulted in the establishment, for a time at
•anyrate, of a republic. Now, I have no sympathy whatever
with republics, still less for a republic controlled by political
adventurers, and, like many Frenchmen, I am going to fight
for France, and in no way for the Republic. At anyrate
let us agree to avoid the subject altogether. We shall never
convince each other however much we might argue it
over."
The girl was silent for two or three minutes, and then
said, —
" Well, we will agree not to quarrel over it. I don't know
how it is that we always see things so differently, Cuthbert.
However, we may talk about your doings without arguing
over the cause. Of course, you do not suppose there will be
much fighting — a week or two will see the end of it all."
" Again we differ," he said. " I believe that there will be
some sharp fighting, and I believe that Paris will hold out for
months."
She looked at him incredulously.
"I should have thought," she said, after a pause, "you
were the last person who would take this noisy, shouting mob
seriously."
" I don't think anything of the mob one way or the other,"
he said. " I despise them utterly, but the troops and the
mobiles are sufficient to man the forts and the walls, and I
believe that middle- class corps, like the one I have entered,
will light manfully ; and the history of Paris has shown over
and over again that the mob of Paris, fickle, vain-headed,
noisy, braggadocios as they are, and always have been, can at
least starve well. They held out against Henry of Navarre
till numbers dropped dead in the streets, and until the
Spaniards came at last from the Netherlands and raised the
siege, and I believe they will hold out now. They have
courage enough, as has been shown over and over again at the
barricades, but they will be useless for fighting, because they
will submit to no discipline. Still, as I said, they can starve,
and it will be a long time indeed before the suffering will be-
come intense enough to drive them to surrender. I fear that
you have altogether underrated the gravity of the situation,
and that you will have very severe privations to go through
before the siege is over."
" I suppose I can stand it as well as others," she laughed,
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 63
41 but I think you are altogether wrong. However, if it should
-come, it will be very interesting."
" Very," he said shortly ; " but I doubt if you will see it
quite in the same light when it comes to eating rats."
" I should not eat them," she said decidedly.
"Well, when it comes to that or nothing I own that I
myself shall eat rats if I can get them. I have heard that the
country rat, the fellow that lives in ricks, is by no means bad
•eating, but I own to having a doubt as to the Paris rat."
" It is disgusting to think of such a thing," she said in-
dignantly ; " the idea is altogether ridiculous."
"I do not know whether you consider that betting is
^among the things that woman has as much right to do as
man ; but if you do, I am ready to wager it will come to rats
before Paris surrenders."
" I never made a bet in my life," she said, " but I will
wager five francs with you that there will be nothing of the
«ort. I do not say that rats may not be eaten in the poor
quarters. I do not know what they eat there. I hear they
•eat horse-flesh, and for anything I know they may eat rats ;
but I will wager that rats will never be openly sold as an
article of food before Paris surrenders."
" It is a bet," he said, " and I will book it at once," and he
gravely took out a pocket-book and made an entry. " And
now," he said, as be replaced the book in his pocket, " how do
you pass your time V
" I spend some hours every day at the Bibliot£que. Then I
take a walk in this quarter and all round the Boulevards.
One can walk just as freely there as one could in Germany,
but I find that I cannot venture off them into the poorer
quarters ; the people stare, and it is not pleasant."
" I certainly should not recommend you to make experi-
ments that way. In the great thoroughfares a lady walking
by herself passes unnoticed, especially if she looks English or
American. They are coming to understand that young women
in those countries are permitted an amount of freedom that is
shocking to the French mind, but the idea has not permeated
to the lower strata of society."
" If you are really desirous of investigating the ways of
the female population of the poorer quarters, I shall be happy
to escort you whenever you like, but I do not think you will
be altogether gratified with the result of your researches, and
I think that you would obtain a much closer insight into
French lower-class life by studying Balzac and some of the
64 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
modern writers — they are not always savoury, but at least they
are realistic."
" Balzac is terrible," she said ; " and some of the others I
have read a little of are detestable. I don't think you can be-
serious in advising me to read them."
" I certainly should not advise you to read any of them,
Miss Brander, if you were a young lady of the ordinary type ;
but as you take up the cause of woman in general it is dis-
tinctly necessary that you should study all the phases of
female life. How else can you grapple with the question ? "
" You are laughing at me again, Mr Hartington," she said^
somewhat indignantly.
" I can assure you that I am not. If your crusade is in
favour only of girls of the upper and middle classes, you are-
touching but the fringe of the subject, for they are outnum-
bered by twenty to one by those of other classes, and those in.
far greater need of higher life than the others."
" It seems rather hopeless," Mary Brander said despond-
ently, after a pause, " one is so unable to influence them."
" Exactly so. You are setting yourself to move a moun-
tain. When the time comes there may be an upheaval, and
the mountain may move of its own accord, but the efforts of a
thousand or ten thousand women as earnest as yourself would
be no more use in proportion than those of a colony of ants
working to level the mountain."
" Don't discourage me, Cuthbert," she said pitifully. " I
do believe with all my heart in my principles, but I do often
feel discouraged. The task seems to grow larger and more-
difficult the more I see of it, and I own that living a year
among German women was rather crushing to me."
"That I can quite understand," he said, with a smile.
" The average German woman differs as widely in her ideas —
I do not say aspirations, for she has none — from your little
group of theorists at Girton as the poles are apart."
" But do not think," she replied, rallying, " that I am in
the least shaken because I see that the difficulty is greater
than I have looked for. Your simile of ants is not correct.
Great things can be done by individuals. Voltaire and Rous-
seau revolutionised French thought from the top to the
bottom. Why should not a great woman some day rise and
exercise as great influence over her sex as these two French-
men did ? But do not let us talk about that any more. I
want to hear more about what you are doing. I have thought
of you so much during the past year, it lias all seemed so strange
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 65
and so sad. Are you really working hard — I mean steadily
and regularly t "
" You evidently think that impossible," he laughed, " but
I can assure you it is true. If you doubt me, I will give you
Goud#8 address, and if you call upon him, and say that you
have an interest in me— you can assign any reason you like,
say that you are an aunt of mine, and intend to make me your
heir — and beg him to inform you frankly of his opinion of my
work and progress, I feel sure that he will give you an account
that will satisfy your doubts."
"I don't think I could do that," she said seriously.
" There, you are laughing at me again," she broke off, as she
looked up at him. " Of course I could not do such a thing,
but I should very greatly like to know about you."
"I do think, Miss Brander, I am working hard enough
and steady enough to satisfy even you. 1 did so for six
months in England with a fellow named Terrier. He was
just the master I wanted. He had not a shadow of imagina-
tion, but was up in all the technical details of painting, and in
six months' hard work I really learnt to paint; previous to
that I knew nothing of painting. I could make a coloured
sketch, but that was all ; now I am on the highway to becom-
ing an artist. Croude* will only receive pupils whom he con-
siders likely to do him credit, and on seeing two of the things I
had done, after I had been working with Terrier, he accepted
me at once. He is a splendid master, out and away the best in
Paris, and is really a great artist himself. He is a peppery
little man, and will tolerate no nonsense, and I can assure you
that he is well satisfied with me. I am going to set to work
to do a couple of pictures on my own account for next year's
Salon. I should have waited another year before trying my
wings if he had not encouraged me to venture at once, and as
he is very much opposed to his pupils painting for exhibition
until they are sufficiently advanced to begin with a success, it
is proof that he has at least some hopes of me."
"lam glad indeed, Outhbert. I sha'n't be quite so sorry
now as I have been about your losing Fairclose. It is so
much nobler to work than it is to fritter away a life doing
nothing. How tiresome it is," she said, " that you have taken
this unfortunate idea into your head of joining a French corps.
It will unsettle you altogether."
M Really," he broke in, with a laugh, "I must protest
against being considered so weak and unstable. You had a
perfect right in thinking me lazy, but I don't think you have
66 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
any right in considering me a reed to be shaken by every pass-
ing wind. I can assure you that I am very fixed in my re-
solves. I was content to be lazy before, simply because
there was no particular reason for my being otherwise, and I
admit that, constitutionally, I may incline that way; but
when a cataclysm occurred, and, as I may say, the founda-
tions were shaken, it became necessary for me to work, and I
took a resolution to do so, and have stuck to it. Possibly I
should have done so in any case. You see, when a man is told
by a young lady he is a useless idler, who does but cumber
the earth, it wakes him up a little."
" I am sure I didn't say that," Mary said indignantly, but
with a hot flush on her cheeks.
"Not in those precise words, perhaps, but you spoke to
that effect, and my conscience told me you were not far wrong
in your opinion. I had begun to meditate whether I ought
not to turn over a new leaf when I came in suddenly for Fair-
close; that, of course, seemed to knock it all on the head.
Then came what we may call the smash. This was so mani-
festly an interposition of Providence in the direction of
my bestirring myself, that I took the heroic resolution to
work."
Mary felt that it was desirable to avoid continuing the
subject. She had long since come to regard that interview in
the garden as a sort of temporary aberration on his part, and
that although, perhaps, sincere at the moment, he had very
speedily come to laugh at his own* folly, and had recognised
that the idea was altogether ridiculous. Upon her it had
made so little impression that it had scarcely occurred to her
when they met that any passage of the sort had taken place,
and had welcomed him as the lad she had known as a child,
rather than as the man who had, under a passing impulse,
asked her to marry him.
"I think," she said suddenly, "I will fetch Madame
Michaud in. It will be nice for you to come here in the
evening sometimes, and it would be better for her to ask
you to do so than for me. These French people have such
funny ideas."
"It would certainly be more pleasant," he agreed, "and
evening will be the time that I have most leisure— that is to
say, when we do not happen to be on duty, as to which I am
very vague at present. They say the sailors will garrison the
forts, and the army take the outpost duty ; but I fancy when
the Germans really surround us it will be necessary to keep
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 67
w> strong a force outside the walls that they will have to call
out some of us in addition. The arrangement at present is,
we are to drill in the morning, and we shall paint in the
afternoon; so the evening will be the only time when we
shall be free."
" What do you do in the evening generally ; you must find
it very lonely?"
" Not at all. I have an American who is in our school, and
who lodges in the same house as I do. Then there are the
students, a light-hearted, merry set of young fellows. We
have little supper-parties, and go to each other's rooms to
•chatter and smoke. Then occasionally I drop into the theatre.
It is very much like the life I had in London, only a good
deal more lively and amusing, and with a great deal less
luxury, and a very much smaller expenditure; and — this is
very serious, I can assure you — very much worse tobacco."
The girl laughed merrily.
" What will you do about smoking when you are reduced to
the extremity you prophesy ? "
" That point is, I confess, troubling me seriously. I look
forward with very much greater dread to the prospect of hav-
ing to smoke dried leaves and the sweepings of tobacco ware-
houses, than I do to the eating of rats. I have been making
inquiries of all sorts as to the state of the stock of tobacco, and
I intend this evening to invest five pounds in laying in a store ;
and mean to take up a plank and hide it under the floor, and
to maintain the most profound secrecy as to its existence.
There is no saying whether, as time goes on, it may not be
declared an offence of the gravest character for anyone to
have a private store of any necessary. If you have any special
weaknesses, such as chocolate or tea, or anything of that sort,
I should advise you not to lose a moment in laying in a good
stock. You will see in another week, when people begin
to recognise generally what a siege means, that everything
eatable will double in price, and in a month only millionaires
will be able to purchase them."
" I really will buy some tea and chocolate," she said.
" Get in a good stock," he said, " especially of chocolate. I
am quite serious, I can assure you. Unfortunately, you have
no place for keeping a sheep or two or a bullock ; and bread at
the end of a couple of months could scarcely be eaten, but
really I should advise you to invest in a dozen of those big
square boxes of biscuits, and a ham or two may come in as
-a welcome addition some day."
68 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Mary laughed incredulously, but she was much more inclined
than before to look at matters seriously, when, on fetching
Madame Michaud in, that lady, in the course of conversation,
mentioned that her husband had that morning bought three
sacks of flour and a hundred tins of preserved meats.
" He is going to get some boxes," she said, " and to have
the flour emptied into them. Then the baker will bring them
round in a cart, so that no one will guess it is flour. He says
it is likely that there will be an order issued that everything
of that sort is to be given into a public store for general dis-
tribution, so it must be brought here quietly. He tells me
that everyone he knows is doing the same thing. My servant
has been out this morning eight times, and has been buying
eggs. She has brought a hundred each time, and we are-
putting them in a cask in salt."
" Do you really think all that is necessary, madame ? " Mary
asked doubtfully.
"Most certainly I do. They say everything will go up
to such prices as never were heard of before. Of course, in a.
month or two the country will come to our rescue and destroy
the Prussians, but till then we have got to live. Already eggs
are fetching four times as much as they did last week. It is
frightful to think of it, is it not, monsieur ? "
" If I were in your place, madame, I would not reckon too
surely on relief in a month. I think that there is no doubt
that, as you say, there will be a prohibition of anyone keeping
provisions of any sort, and everything will be thrown into the
public magazines. Likely enough, every house will be searched,
and you cannot hide your things too carefully."
" But why should they insist on everything being put in
public magazines ? " Mary asked. " It will not go further that
way than if people keep their own stocks and eat them."
" It will be necessary, if for nothing else, to prevent riot-
ing when the pinch comes and people are starving in the
poorer quarters. You may be sure, if they have a suspicion
that the middle and upper classes have food concealed in their
houses, they will break in and sack them. That would only
be human nature, and, therefore, in the interest of order alone,
a decree forbidding anyone to have private stores would have
to be passed ; besides, it would make the food go much further,
for you may be sure that everything will be doled out in the
smallest quantities sufficient to keep life together, and before
the end of the siege comes, each person may only get two or
three ounces of bread a day."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 69
Madame Michaud nodded, as if prepared to be reduced
wen to that extremity.
" You are right, monsieur. I am going to get stuff, and
to make a great number of small bags to hold the flour ; then
we shall hide it away under the boards in many places, so
that if they find some they may not find it all."
"The idea is a good one, madam e, but it has its disadvan-
tages. If they find one parcel they will search so closely
•everywhere that they will find the rest. For that reason, one
good hiding-place, if you could invent one, would be better
than many."
" One does not know what is best to do," Madame Michaud
said, with a gesture of tragic despair. "Who could have
thought that such a thing could happen to Paris ? "
"It is unexpected, certainly," Cuthbert agreed, "but it
has been foreseen, otherwise they would never have taken the
trouble to build this circle of forts round Paris. They are
useful now, not only in protecting the city, but in covering a
wide area, where the cattle and sheep may feed, under the
protection of the guns. I don't think we are as likely to be
as badly off for meat as for bread, for, after the flocks and
herds are all eaten up, there are the horses, and of these there
must be tens of thousands in Paris."
"That is a comfort, certainly," the Frenchwoman said
•calmly, while Mary Brander made a little gesture of disgust.
" I have never tried horseflesh myself, at least, that I know
•of, but they say it is not so bad ; but I cannot think that they
will have to kill the horses for food. The country will not
wait until we are reduced to that extremity."
" Mr Hartington has joined one of the regiments of volun-
teers, Madame Michaud."
" That is good of you, monsieur. My husband is in the
National Guard, and they say everyone will have to take up
a musket ; but as you are a foreigner, of course this would not
«pply to you."
" Well, for the time being, I consider myself a Parisian,
-and as a German shell is just as likely to fall on the roof of
the house where I live as on any other, I consider myself to
be perfectly justified in doing my best in self-defence."
" I trust that you will call whenever you are disposed in
the evening, monsieur," Madame' Michaud said cordially ; "it
will give my husband pleasure to meet an English gentleman
who is voluntarily going to fight in the cause of France."
"Thank you, madame. I shall be very glad to do so.
70 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Mademoiselle's father is a very old friend of our family, and I
have known her ever since she was a little child. It will be
pleasant to me to make the acquaintance of monsieur. And
now, Miss Brander, I must be going."
CHAPTER VII
As he sauntered back into the city, Cuthbert met an English
resident with whom he had some slight acquaintance.
" So you are not among the great army of deserters, Mr
Phipsonr >
" No ; I thought it better to stay here and see it out. If
the Germans come in I shall hang out the English flag, and I
have no doubt that it will be all right. If I go away the
chances are that I should find the place sacked when I return."
" Then, of course, you will keep your place open."
" It will be closed to the public to-morrow — to the public,
mind you. My English customers and friends, if they come
to the little door in the Arcade and give two knocks, and then
three little ones, with their knuckles on the door, will find it
open, and can be served as long as there is any liquor left ;
but for the last three days I have been clearing out nearly all
my stock. The demand has been tremendous, and I was glad
enough to get rid of it, for even if the place isn't looted by
the mob, all the liquors might be seized by the authorities
and confiscated for public use. I shall be glad when the
doors are closed I can tell you, for these people are enough to-
make one sick. The way they talk and brag sets my fingers
itching, and I want to ask them to step into the back room,
take off their coats — those uniforms they are so proud of — and
stand up for a friendly round or two just to try what they
are made of.
" I reckon if a chap can't take one on the nose and come
up smiling, he would not be worth much when he has to stand
up against the Prussians. I thought I understood them pretty
well after having been coachman here for over twenty years,
but I see now that I was wrong altogether. Of course I knew
they were beggars to talk, but I always thought that there
was something in it, and that if it came to fighting they
would show up pretty well ; but to hear them going on now*
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 71
as to what France will do, and doing nothing themselves,
gives one a sickener. Then the way as they blackguard the
Emperor, who wasn't by any means a bad chap, puts' my
monkey up, I can tell you. Why, there is not one in fifty of
them as is fit to black his boots. He had a good taste in
horses too, he had, and when I hear them going on, it is as
much as I can do not to slip in to them.
" That is one reason why I am stopping. A week ago I
had pretty well made up my mind that I would go, but they
made me so mad that I says to myself I will stop and see it
out, if it is only for the pleasure of seeing these fellows get
the licking they deserve. I was out yesterday evening. There
was every caft crowded ; there was the singing places fuller
than I ever saw them ; there were drunken soldiers, who
ought to have been with their regiment outside the walls,
reeling about the streets. Anyone as seed the place would
have put it down that it was a great fete day. As to the
Prussians outside, no one seemed to give them a thought. If
you went from table to table you heard everyone saying that
the Germans would be destroyed, and that everyone who
talked of peace now was a traitor."
" I quite agree with you," Cuthbert said ; " they are most
extraordinary people. Still, I do think they will fight."
" Well, sir, I don't know whether you have heard the news
that they have been licked this morning somewhere out near
Clamart. I heard just now that a lot of the linesmen bolted
and never stopped running till they got into Paris, but they
say the Breton mobiles fought well, though they had to fall
back at last."
" The troops are disorganised at present," Cuthbert said ;
" but when you see what a tremendous thrashing they have
had, it is hardly to be expected that they should fight with
any confidence, but when discipline is restored, and they have
had a few skirmishes, they will be different men altogether.
As to the mobiles, they are mere peasants at present, but a
month of hard work will turn them into soldiers, and, I should
say, better soldiers than the linesmen ; but I am afraid they
will never make anything out of the National Guard. The
only way to do so will be to establish big camps outside the
walls and send them all out there, and put strict army men in
command, with a regiment of regulars in each camp to carry
out their orders. It would be necessary no doubt to shoot a
few hundred of them before anything like discipline could be
established ; and once a week the whole should be sent out to
72 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
attack the Germans so as to teach them to be steady under
fire. In that way they might be turned into decent soldiers."
"Lord bless you, sir, Government would never try that.
There would be barricades in the streets in no time, and as
the soldiers are all outside the walls the mob would upset the
Government in a week."
" I am not at all saying it would do, but it is the only
thing to make soldiers of them."
" Well, sir, you will know where to come when things get
bad. I don't expect there will be any beer to be had, but I
have been down with my son Bob into the cellar for the last
four nights. I could not trust the French waiters, and we
dug holes and have buried a couple of dozen kegs of my best
spirits, so, if they make a clear sweep of the rest, I reckon we
shall be able to keep that door open a goodish while."
" I sha'n't forget, and I hope that your spirits may escape
the searchers, but you know just at present we are not popular
in Paris. They have got an idea in their heads that we ought
to have declared war against the Germans on their behalf;
why, Heaven knows, but you may be sure that all the English
places will be very strictly searched."
" Yes, I reckon on that, and we have got them twelve feet
deep. It will be a job to get them out as we want them, but
there won't be anything else to do, and it will keep us in
health."
Cuthbert had asked all the students to come in and smoke
a pipe that evening in his room, and had ordered supper to be
sent in.
" I am going to have it there instead of one of the usual
places," he said, "because I don't think it is decent to be
feasting in public at a time like this. I expect it is about
the last time we shall have anything like a supper. Things
will be altogether beyond the reach of our purses in another
week. Besides, I hope we shall be outside before long."
Arnold Dampierre was the first to come in.
" I am disgusted with the Parisians," he said moodily.
" Well, yes, I am not surprised. It is not quite the spirit
in which your people entered on their struggle, Dampierre."
" No, we meant it ; the struggle with us was to get to the,
front. Why, do you know, I heard two or three of the
National Guard grumbling in the highest state of indignation.
And why, do you think ¥ . Because they had to sleep in the
open air last night. Are. these the men to defend a city?
There will be trouble before long, Cuthbert. The workmen
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 73
will not stand it ; they have no faith in the Government, nor
in Trochu, nor in anyone."
" Including themselves, I hope," Cuthbert smiled.
"They are in earnest. I have been up at — " and he
hesitated, "Montmartre this afternoon, and they are furious
there."
" They are fools," Cuthbert said scornfully, " and no small
proportion are knaves besides. They read those foul
pamphlets, and gloat over the abuse of every decently-dressed
person. They rave against the Prussians, but it is the bour-
geois they hate. They talk of fighting, while what they want
is to sack and plunder."
" Nothing of the kind," the American said hotly. " They
want honesty and purity, and public spirit. They see vice
more rampant than it was in the days of the Empire. They
see the bourgeois shirking their duty. They see license and
extravagance everywhere."
" It is a pity they don't look at home," Cuthbert laughed,
good-tempered. " I have not yet learned that either purity
or honesty, or a sense of duty are conspicuous at Montmartre
or Belleville. There is just as much empty vapouring there
as there is down the Boulevards. As to courage, they may
have a chance presently of showing whether they have more
of it than the better class. Personally, I should doubt it."
Then he added more seriously, "My dear Dampierre, I can,
of course, guess where you have learnt all this. I know that
Minette's father is one of the firebrands of his quarter, and
that since she has been earning an income here he has never
done a stroke of work, but has taken up the profession of
politician. I am not doubting his sincerity. He may be, for
aught I know, perfectly in earnest, but it is his capacity I
doubt. These uneducated men are able to see but one side of
the question, and that is their own.
"I am not at all blind to the danger. I believe it is
possible that we are going to have another red revolution.
Your men at Belleville and Montmartre are capable of repeat-
ing the worst and most terrible features of that most awful
time, but you know what came of it and how it ended. Even
now some of these blackguard prints are clamouring for one
man to take the supreme control of everything. So far there
are no signs of that coming man, but doubtless, in time,
another Bonaparte may come to the front and crush down
disorder with an iron heel; but that will not be until the
need for a saviour of society is evident to all. I hope, my
74 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
dear fellow, you will not be carried away with these visionary
ideas. I can, of course, understand your predilections for a
republic, but between your Republic and the Commune, for
which the organs of the mob are already clamouring, there is
no shadow of resemblance. They are both founded, it is true,
on the will of the majority, but in the States it is the majority
of an educated and distinctly law-abiding people — here it is
the majority of men who would set the law at defiance, who
desire power simply for the purposes of spoliation."
Dampierre would have replied angrily, but at this moment
the door opened and two or three of the other students
entered.
" Have you heard about that affair at Clamart ? " they de-
manded eagerly. " They say the line behaved shamefully, and
that Trochu declares they shall be decimated."
" Tou may be quite sure that if he said so he will not
carry it out," Cuthbert said. " The army has to be kept in
a good humour, and, at anyrate, until discipline is fully re-
stored, it would be too dangerous a task to venture on punish-
ing cowardice. It is unfortunate, certainly, but things will
get better in time. Tou can hardly expect to make the fugi-
tives of a beaten army into heroes all at once. I have not the
least doubt that if the Germans made an attack in full force
they would meet with very slight resistance ; but they won't
do that. They will go to work in a regular and steady way.
They will erect batteries, commanding every road out of the
town, and will then sit down and starve us out, hastening the
process, perhaps, by a bombardment. But all that will take
time. There will be frequent fighting at the outposts, and if
Trochu and the rest of them make the most of the material
they have at hand, poor as much of it is, they will be able to
turn out an army that should be strong enough to throw it-
self upon any point in the German line and break its way out ;
but it must be an army of soldiers, not a force composed of
disheartened fusritives and half -drilled citizens."
" The National Guard are drilling earnestly," Bene Caillard
said. "I have been watching them this afternoon. They
really made a very good show."
" The father of a family, with a comfortable home and a
prosperous business, can drill as well as the most careless
vaitrien, Rene — better, perhaps, for he will take much greater
pains ; but when it comes to fighting, half a dozen reckless
dare-devils are worth a hundred of him. I think, if I had
been Trochu, I would have issued an order that every un-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 75
married man in Paris between the ages of sixteen and forty-
five should be organised into, you might call it, the active
National Guard, for continual service outside the walls, while
the married men should be reserved for defending the enceinte
at the last extremity. The outside force might be but a third
of the whole, but they would be worth as much as the whole
force together. That is why I think that our corps may dis-
tinguish itsell We have none of us wives or families, and
nothing much to lose, consequently we shall fight welL We
sha'n't mind hardships, for we have not been accustomed to
luxuries. We are fighting as volunteers, and not because the
law calls us under arms.
" We are educated, and have got too much self-respect to
bolt like rabbits. I don't say we may not retire. One can't
do impossibilities, and if others don't stand, we can't oppose a
Prussian army corps. There is one thing you must do, and
that is — preserve good discipline. There is no discipline at
all in the National Guard. I saw a party of them yesterday
drilling, and two or three of them quietly marched out of the
ranks and remonstrated, on terms of the most perfect equality,
with their colonel as to an order he had given. The maxim of
the Republic may do for civil life, though I have not a shadow
of belief either in equality or fraternity ; nor have I in liberty
when liberty means license. Whether that be so or not,
equality is not consistent with military discipline. An army
in which the idea of equality reigns is not an army but a mob,
and is no more use for fighting purposes than so many armed
peasants. The shibboleth is always absurd, and, in a case like
the present, ruinous. The first duty of a soldier is obedience,
absolute and implicit, and a complete surrender of the right of
private judgment."
" And you would obey an officer if you were sure that he
were wrong, Cuthbert?"
" Certainly I would. I might, if the mistake did not cost
me my life, argue the matter out with him afterwards, if, as
might happen among us, we were personal acquaintances ; but
I should at the same time carry out the order, whatever it
might be, to the best of my power. And now I propose that
for this evening we avoid the subject of the siege altogether.
In future, engaged as we are likely to be, we shall hardly be
able to avoid it, and, moreover, the bareness of the table and
the emptiness of the wine cups will be a forcible reminder that
it will be impossible to escape it. Did you show Goude* your
sketch for your picture for the Salon, Rene ? "
76 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" I did, after you had all gone, and I have not got over
the interview yet. His remarks on the design, conception,
and the drawing were equally clear and decisive. He more
than hinted that I was a hopeless idiot, that the time he had
given me was altogether wasted, that I had mistaken my
avocation, and that if the Germans knocked me on the head
it would be no loss either to myself or to society in general.
It is true that after he had finished he cooled down a bit and
made a number of suggestions from which I gathered that if
the whole thing were altered, my idea of the background al-
together changed, the figures differently posed, the effect of
light and shade diametrically reversed, and a few other trifl-
ing alterations made, the thing might possibly be hung on the
top line. Mafoi, I feel altogether crushed, for I had really
flattered myself that the sketch was not altogether without
merit."
When the laugh had subsided Cuthbert said, —
" Courage, Rend, Goudd's bark is always worse than his
bite, and I have no doubt he will take a much more favour-
able view of it as you get on."
" It is all very well for you to say so," Rene' said ruefully.
" You are a spoiled child ; Goudd has never a word of reprool
for you."
"Probably because he knows very well that I shall not
break my heart over it. We must hold a committee of in-
spection on your work to-morrow ; none of us have seen your
design yet, and we may be able between us to make some
useful suggestion."
"No, no," Rene* exclaimed. "Heaven protect me from
that. Do you come, Cuthbert; none of us mind what you
say about our pictures. Your criticisms do not hurt. One
would no more think of being angry with you for using your
knife than with a surgeon for performing an operation."
" Very well, Rend, I will come round early. I have no
doubt your sketch is a very good one on the whole, and after
a few little changes it will satisfy even Goude\ By the way,
have you heard we are to elect our company officers to-
morrow % "
" Will you stand % I am sure you would have all our votes
— that is twenty-five to start with, and as we know most of
the fellows in the company we certainly could secure all those
who have not any candidate they want to run ; besides, there
are, of course, to be three officers, so we should be able to
traffic votes."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 77
M No officering for me," Cuthbert laughed. " In the first
place, I have no greater qualifications for the post than any-
one else, and in the second place, I am English, and though I
might be elected — thanks to your votes — I should never be
liked or trusted; besides, I have not a shadow of ambition
that way. I am going to fight if necessary. I shall have my
note-book in my pocket, and I have no doubt that when we
are lying waiting for our turn to come, I shall have lots of
opportunities for jotting down little bits that will work into
the great battle picture which is to have the place of honour
some day in the Salon. I think it will certainly be pleasant
to have one of our own number among the officers, and I pro-
pose that each of us puts down on a slip of paper the name of
the man he thinks will make the best leader, and throws it
into the hat ; then, whoever gets the most votes we will all
support, and, as you say, by a little traffic in the votes we
ought to be able to get him in among the three."
" Are you absolutely determined not to stand ? "
" Absolutely and positively. So please do not any of you
put my name down ; two or three votes thrown away like that
might alter the decision."
He tore up a sheet of paper into small slips and passed
them round.
" Before we begin to write," he said, " let it be understood
that no one is to vote for himself. I don't mind telling you
who I am going to vote for. It is Henri Vancour. This is a
matter in which it should be no question of personal liking
We should choose the man who appears to us best fitted for
the post."
The name came as a surprise upon the others, for Henri
was one of the last whom it would have occurred to them to
choose. Pencils were already in their hands and they were on
the point of writing when he spoke, and almost all would have
given their votes either for Rene' Caillard or Pierre Leroux,
who were the two most popular men among the party. There
was a pause for some little time before the pencils went to
work.
They had not thought of Henri, but now they did think of
him they acknowledged to themselves that there was a good
deal to be said in his favour. He was a Norman — quiet, hard-
working and even-tempered. His voice was seldom heard in
the chorus of jokes and laughter, but when asked for an
opinion he gave it at once concisely and decidedly. He was
of medium height and squarely built. His face was cast in a
78 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
rough mould, and an expression of resolution and earnestness
was predominant. He had never joined either in the invec-
tive against the Emperor, or in the confident anticipations of
glorious successes over the Germans.
He listened but said nothing, and when questioned would
reply, " Let us see someone do better than the Emperor before
we condemn him. "We will hope for the best, but so for pre-
dictions have been so wrong that it would be better to wait
and see before we blow our trumpets." He had but little
genius, this young Norman, but he had perseverance and
power.
M. Qoude* scolded him less than others with far greater talent,
and had once said, " You will never be a great painter, Henri.
I doubt if you will ever be in the first line, but you will take
a good place in the second. You will turn out your pictures
regularly and the work will always be good and solid. You
may not win any great prizes, but your work will be esteemed,
and in the end you will score as heavily as some of those who
possess real genius."
Yes Henri was, they all felt, now they thought it over, one
they could rely upon. He would not lose his head, he would be
calm in danger, as he was calm at all other times, and he cer-
tainly would show no lack of courage. Accordingly, when the
papers were opened, he was found to have received a consider-
able majority of the votes.
Thank you for choosing me, comrades," he said quietly.
I can only say that if elected I will do my best. A man
can't say more than that. Why you should have fixed upon
me I cannot think, but that is your business. I think I can
promise at anyrate that I won't run away."
When the Franc Tireurs £des coles assembled the next
morning, half an hour was given for consultation ; then the
vote was taken, and Henri Yancour was declared elected
first lieutenant of the company composed entirely of the art
students, the captain being Francois des Valles, who belonged
to an old provincial family, a tall, dark, handsome young man,
•extremely popular among his comrades.
" I think he will do very well," Cuthbert said, as the com-
pany fell in. " There is no fear of his leaving us when under
fire ; his failing, if he has one, will be that he may want to
keep us there too long. It is quite as necessary, when you are
fighting by the side of fellows who are not to be relied on, to
know when to retreat as it is to know when to advance."
This was their first parade in uniform. This had been
«
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 79
decided upon at the first meeting held to settle the constitu-
tion of the corps, and a quiet grey had been chosen, which
looked neat and workmanlike by tbe side of many of the pic-
turesque but inappropriate costumes selected by the majority
of the Franc Tireurs. They had already had three days' drill,
and had learned to form from line into column and from
column into line, to advance as skirmishers and to rally on the
centres of the companies. They now marched out through the
gates, and were first taught to load the chassepots, which had
been bought by a general subscription in the schools, and then
spent the morning in practising and skirmishing, and advanc-
ing and retreating in alternate files.
When they were formed up again the old Colonel said,
" You are getting on well, men. Two more morning's work
and we will go out and complete our lessons in the face of the
enemy."
When dismissed at the end of the third day, they were
told to bring, next morning, the grey greatcoats and blankets
that formed part of their uniform. " Let each man bring with
him three • days' provisions in his bag," the Colonel said ;
"ammunition will be served out to you, and you will soon
learn how to use it to advantage."
CHAPTER VIII
M. Goud£ grumbled much when he heard that his whole
<class were going to be absent for three days.
" A nice interruption to study," he said ; " however, you
were none of you doing yourselves any good, and you may as
well be out in the fields as hanging about the streets gossip-
ing. We can always talk, but during the past six weeks
Paris has done nothing but talk. Don't come back with any
of your number short. You have all got something in you
and are too good for food for Prussian powder."
Cuthbert went that evening to the Michauds in his
uniform, not for the purpose of showing it off, but because
men in plain clothes, especially if of fair complexions, were
constantly stopped and accused of being German spies, wer*
80 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
often ill-treated, and not unfrequently had to pass a night in
the cells before they could prove their identity. Mary gave
an exclamation of surprise at seeing him so attired, but made
no remark until after chatting for half an hour with the
Michauds. The husband presently made the excuse that he
had to attend a meeting, and went on^ while madame took up
some knitting, settled herself in an easy-chair, and prepared
for a quiet doze, then Mary said in English, —
" I have no patience with you, Cuthbert, taking part with
these foolish people. The more I see of them the more I get
tired of their bombast and their empty talk. Every man ex-
pects everyone else to do something and no one does anything."
" They have had nothing to stir them into action yet," he
said ; " only the regulars and the moblots go outside die wall,
and the National Guard are practically useless until the
Germans make an assault. Besides, three parts of them are
married men with families, and nothing short of their homes
being in danger will stir them up to risk their lives. We are
going out for three days to the outposts ; we fall in at five
o'clock to-morrow morning."
" You are going to risk your life," she said indignantly,
"for the Parisians, who have no idea whatever of risking
theirs. I call it madness."
"You are going against your own doctrines, Miss
Brander. Before, you were indignant with me for doing
nothing and being in earnest about nothing. Now that I
am doing something, and that in grim earnest, you are just
as indignant as you were before."
" I did not mean this sort of thing," she said.
"No, I don't suppose you contemplated this. But you
wanted me to- work for work's sake, although as it seemed
then there was no occasion for me to work."
"If it had be n n on the other side I should not have
minded."
" Just so," he smiled. " You have become Germanised, I
have not. My friends here have all enlisted ; I am going
with them partly because they are all my friends, and
partly because it is evident the Germans might have
well stopped this war before now, but they demand terms-
that France can never submit to as long as there is the
faintest hope of success. You need not be at all anxious
about me. We are not going to attack the Prussian positions,
I can assure you. We are only going out to do a little out-
post duty, to learn to hear the bullets flying without ducking,.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 81
and to fire our rifles without shutting our eyes. I don't
suppose there are five men in the three companies who have
ever fired a rifle in their lives.
" You see, the Franc Tireurs are to a great extent inde-
pendent of the military authorities — if you can call men
military authorities who exercise next to no authority over
their soldiers. The Franc Tireurs come and go as they
choose, and a good many of them wear the uniform only as a
means of escape from serving, and, as a whole, they are next
to useless. I think our corps will do better things. We are
all students of art, law, or physic, and a good deal like such
volunteer corps as the artists or * Inns ' of Court. Some of
the younger professors are in the ranks, and at least we are
all of average intelligence and education, so I fancy we shall
fight if we get a chance. I don't mean now, but later on
when we have gained confidence in ourselves and in our rifles.
Just at present the Parisians are disposed to look upon the
Germans as bogies, but this will wear oflj and as discipline
is recovered by the line, and the mobiles grow into soldiers,
you will see that things will be very different ; and although
I don't indulge in any vain fancy that we are going to defeat
the German army, I do think that we shall bear ourselves
like men and show something of the old French spirit."
" That will be a change indeed," the girl said scornfully.
" Yes, it will be a change," he answered quietly, " but by
no means an impossible one. You must not take the vapour-
ings and bombast of the Paris bourgeois, or the ranting of
BLanqui and the Bellevilles roughs as the voice of France.
The Germans thought that they were going to take Paris in
three days ; I doubt if they will take it in three months. If
we had provisions I should say they would not take it in treble
that time. They certainly would not do it without making
regular approaches, and before they can do that they have to cap-
ture some of the forts. These, as you know, are manned by ten
thousand sailors, hardy marines and Bretons, well disciplined,
and untainted by the politics which are the curse of this country.
Well, I must be going. I have to purchase my three days'
store of provisions on my way back to my lodgings, and shall
have to turn out early."
" Don't do anything rash," she said earnestly.
" I can assure you rashness is not in my line at all, and I
don't suppose we shall ever get within five hundred yards of a
Prussian soldier. You need not be in the least uneasy, even
supposing that you were inclined to fidget about me."
82 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"Of course I should fidget about you," she said indig-
nantly. "After knowing you ever since I was a little child,
naturally I should be very sorry if anything happened to
you."
"By the way," he said, without pursuing the subject
farther, " I hear that there is a movement on foot for forming
a corps of women. If they should do so it will afford you
another illustration of the equality of your sex to ours in all
matters, and I will go so far as to admit that I would much
rather lead a company of the market-women than one com-
posed of these Parisian shopkeepers."
" Don't, Mr Hartington," she said appealingly. " I don't
feel equal to fighting now. 1 '
" Then we won't fight. Good-bye ! If we are not lucky
enough to light upon some empty cottages to sleep in I fancy
the gloss will be taken out of this uniform before I see you
again." He picked up his cap, shook hands, and was gone.
Madame Michaud woke up as the door closed.
" He has gone, your tall countryman ? "
" Yes, he is going out to-morrow to the outposts. I think
it is very silly of him, and very wrong, mixing up in a quarrel
that does not concern him, especially when there are tens of
thousands here in Paris who, instead of fighting for their
country, are content to sit all day in cafds and talk."
" They will fight when the time comes," Madame Michaud
said complacently. "They will fight like heroes. The
Prussians will learn what Frenchmen are capable of doing."
But Mary had no patience just at present to listen to this
sort of thing, and with the excuse that her head ached went at
once to her room.
" I do not understand these English," Madame Michaud
thought, as she drew the lamp nearer and resumed her knit-
ting. " Here are a young woman and a young man who are more
like comrades than lovers. She was angry, more angry than I
thought she could be, for she is generally good-tempered, when
I asked her, the first time he came, if they were affiances. ' We
are old friends, madame,' she said, ' and nothing but friends.
Cannot a girl have a man as a friend without there being any
thought of love ? In England people are friends ; they can
talk and laugh to each other without any silly ideas of this
sort occurring to them. This is one of the things that keeps
woman back in the scale, this supposition that she is always
thinking of love.' I did not believe her then, but I have
listened to-night when they thought I was asleep, and I even
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 83
peeped cut two or three times between my eyelids. I could
not understand a word of what they said, but one can tell
things by the tone without understanding the words. There
was no love-making. She scolded him, and he laughed. He
«at carelessly in his chair, and did not move an inch nearer to
her. She was as straight and as upright as she always is.
" That is not the way lovers act when one is going out to
fight. I peeped out when he shook hands with her. He did
not hold her hand a moment, he just shook it. They are
strange people these English. It would be wrong for a French
£irl thus to talk to a young man, but I suppose it is different
with them. Who can understand these strange islanders?
Why, if Lucien were going out to fight I should dissolve
in tears, I should embrace him and hang on his neck, I might
•even have hysterics, though I have never had them in my life.
She is a good girl, too, though she has such strange ideas about
women. What can she want for them ? I manage the house
and Lucien goes to his office. If I say a thing is to be done in
the house, it is done. I call that equality. I cannot tell what
she is aiming at. At times it seems to me that she is even
more mad than her compatriots, and yet on other subjects she
talks with good sense. What her father and mother can be
about to let her be living abroad by herself is more than I can
think. They must be even more mad than she is."
Work at M. Goud#8 school went on steadily during the
intervals between the turns of the Franc Tireurs des Ecoles
going out beyond the walls. Indeed, M. Goude* acknowledged
that the work was better than usual. Certainly, the studio
was never merrier or more full of life. So far from the active
-exercise and the rough work entailed by the constant vigilance
necessary during the long night watches diminishing the in-
terest of the young fellows in their work in the studio, it
seemed to invigorate them, and they painted as if inflamed
with the determination to make up for lost time.
It converted them, in fact, for the time, from a group of
careless, merry young fellows into men with a sense of respon-
sibility. Their time, when away from the studio, had previ-
ously been spent in follies and frivolities. They often drank
much more than was good for them, smoked inordinately,
were up half the night, and came in the morning to work,
with heavy heads and nerveless hands. Now they were
soldiers, men who matched themselves against the invaders
of their country, who risked their lives in her defence, and
they bore themselves more erectly ; a tone of earnestness re-
84 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
placed a languid indifference 'and a carelessness as to their
work, and, in spite of some privations in the way of food,
their figures seemed to expand.
The loss of two nights' sleep a week rendered early hours
necessary, and ensured sound sleep during the remaining ^ve.
The discipline of the studio had been relaxed. The master
felt that at such a time he could not expect the same silent
concentration on work that it* demanded at other times, but
he found, to his surprise, that,! while they laughed and joked
as they painted, they worked none the worse for this, and
that, in fact, there was a general improvement manifest.
Cuthbert heartily enjoyed the change ; the prevailing tone
was more like that to which he was accustomed at the studios
of St John's Wood than was the somewhat strict discipline
that had before prevailed in the studio, and he enjoyed the
hard work and excitement outside the walls. The fact that
they were running the same risks and sharing in the same
work was an added bond of union among the students ; and
although when they met, as they very frequently did, in each
other's lodgings, there was less uproarious fun than before ;.
there was a healthier atmosphere, and more pleasant and
earnest talk.
Arnold Dampierre was the only exception to the general
rule. When in the field, he evinced no want of spirit, and,
upon the contrary, was always ready to volunteer when a few
men were required to crawl forward at night to ascertain the
precise position of the Prussian outposts, or to endeavour to
find out the meaning of any stir or movement that might be
heard towards their front. At other times, his fits of moodi-
ness seemed to increase. He was seldom present at any of
the gatherings of his companions, but went off after work at
the studio was over, and it was generally late at night before
he returned to his rooms.
Cuthbert felt that the American avoided all opportunities
of conversation with him alone. He replied cordially enough
to his greeting when they met, but they no longer dropped in
to smoke a pipe in each other's apartments as they formerly
had done. Cuthbert had no great difficulty in guessing at the
reasons for this change in their relations. He himself, when
he first noticed that Arnold was taking the first place with
Minette, had spoken to him half-jestingly, half-seriously, on
the subject. He had never made any secret of his own dis-
trust of the model, and, in the early days of their intercourse,
had spoken freely to Arnold on the subject. He could under-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 85
-stand that if the American, as it appeared, had become really
attached to her, he would shrink from the risk of any expos-
tulations on the course he had adopted.
Outhbert believed that his comrade was at present in a
state of indecision, and that, although deeply in love, he had
not as yet been able to bring himself to the idea of taking
Minette back as his wife to his home in Louisiana.
" It would be sheer madness," he said to himself, " and
jet I have no doubt it will end in his doing so ; but as he
must know it is a piece of stupendous folly, I can understand
his reluctance to risk my speaking to him on the subject. I
am awfully sorry for him, but I know it is one of those cases
in which, now that it has gone as far as it has, it would be
worse than useless to try to interfere, and would only make
bim more bent upon going through with it. I don't see that
•one can do anything but trust to the chapter of accidents.
Minette, dazzled as she might be by the prospect of marrying
4b gentleman and a man of property, might still hesitate to do
•so if it would entail her having to leave Paris and live abroad.
" I have no doubt that she is very fond of Dampierre, but
she may change her mind. He may be killed before this
business is over. He may decide to return to America
•directly the siege ends, with the idea of coming over to fetch
her afterwards, and either he may get over his infatuation, or
on his return may find that someone else has supplanted him
in her affections. I should not fancy that constancy would be
one of her strong points ; at anyrate, I do not see that I can
•do any good by meddling in the matter ; though if Dampierre
spoke to me about it I should certainly express my opinion
frankly. It is much the best that things should go on between
us as they are now doing. He is a hot-headed beggar, and the
probabilities are strong in the favour of our having a serious
•quarrel if the subject were ever broached between us."
One evening Outhbert had taken up a book after his return
from the studio, and sat reading until it was long past his
usual dinner hour before he went out. He passed through
several badly-lighted streets on his way to the restaurant in
the Palais Royal, where he intended to dine. There were but
few people about, for the evening was wet. He was vaguely
-conscious that someone was going in the same direction as
himself, for he heard footsteps following him a short distance
behind. In one of the worst-lighted and most silent streets
the steps suddenly quickened. Outhbert turned sharply
round. He was but just in time, for a man who had been
86 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
following him was on the point of springing upon him with
uplifted arm.
Cuthbert felt rather than saw that there was a knife in
his band, and struck straight from the shoulder at his face ;
the fellow was in the act of striking when he received the-
blow. He fell as if shot, the knife flying from his hand,
clattering on the pavement several yards away. Cuthbert
stood for a moment prepared to strike again if the man rose,
but as he made no movement he turned on his heel and walked
on.
" It would serve him right if I were to give the scoundrel
in charge for attempted murder, 1 ' be said, " but it would give
me no end of bother. It would not be worth the trouble, and
he has been pretty well punished. I have cut my knuckles,
and I imagine that when he comes to he will find himself
minus some of his teeth. I wonder what his object was —
robbery, I suppose — and yet it is hardly likely that the-
fellow would have singled me out and decided to kill me on
the off-chance of finding something worth taking. He could
not have seen that I have a watch on, for my greatcoat is.
buttoned. It is more like an act of private revenge, but I
have never given anyone of that class any reason to dislike
me. Certainly the man followed me for some distance, for I
have heard the steps behind me ever since I turned off into
these quiet streets. 1 '
" By the way," he exclaimed suddenly, " I should not be
at all surprised if he took me for Dampierre. We are about
the same height, and although I am a good many inches wider
than he is, that might not be noticed in the dark. If the
fellow was watching outside the door, and had known nothing
of there being another man of the same height in the house,
he might very well have taken me for Arnold. He spend*
half his time up at Montmartre, and may N likely enough have
given offence to some of the ruffians up there ; when he is not
in a pleasant temper he does not mind what he says. Possibly,
too, the fellow may be an admirer of Minette, and the thing
may be this outcome of jealousy. At anyrate, I will tell him.
in the morning about the affair, and let him take warning by
it if he chooses. 1 '
Accordingly, next morning he waited outside in the street
for Arnold, who was generally the last to arrive at the-
studio.
" Rather an unpleasant thing happened yesterday evening,
Dampierre. I was followed from here and attacked suddenly
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A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 87
in one of the back streets leading up to the Boulevards. I
had heard footsteps behind me for a little time, and had a
vague sort of idea that I was being followed. The fellow ran
up suddenly, and I had just time to turn and hit out. He
was in the act of striking with a knife, and if I had been a
second later, he would probably have settled me. As it was,
I knocked him down, and I fancy I stunned him. At any-
rate, he did not move, so I walked on. Of course, it may
have been a mere vulgar attempt at murder and robbery, but
from the fact that this man followed me for some considerable
distance, I should say it was not so, but a question of revenge.
I don't know that anyone in Paris has any cause of quarrel
with me, but the idea Afterwards occurred to me that it might
be that he took me for you. We are about the same height,
and if he was watching the house he might, when I came out,
mistake one for the other. Of course, I have not a shadow of
reason for supposing that you have an enemy, but, at anyrate,
I thought it as well to tell you about it, so that you might be
on your guard, as I shall certainly be in the future."
Arnold was silent for a minute.
" I should not be surprised if you are right, Hartington ;
they are a rough lot at Montmartre, and it is possible that I
may, without knowing it, have rubbed some of them the wrong
way. I suppose you did not notice what he was like."
" No, it was too dark, and the whole affair too sudden for
me to see anything of the features. He was in a blouse with
the low cap workmen generally wear. I should say he stood
four or five inches shorter than we do — about five feet eight or
so. He was a square-built fellow. If you happen to come
across him, I fancy you may recognise him, not from my de-
scription, but from my handiwork. Tou see," and he pointed
to his right hand, which was wrapped up in a handkerchief,
"I hit him hard, and have cut two of my knuckles pretty
badly — I fancy against his teeth. If so, I think it likely that
two or three of them will be missing, and as a man of that sort
is hardly likely to go at once to a dentist to have the gap
filled up, it may prove a guide to you.
" For the next day or two his lips are sure to be swollen
pretty badly. Of course, if you have no one in your mind's
eye as being specially likely to make an attempt upon your
life, these little things will afford you no clue whatever, but if
you have any sort of suspicion that one, of three or four men,
might be likely to have a grudge against you, they may enable
you to pick out the fellow who attempted my life. Of course,
88 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
I may be mistaken altogether, and the fellow may have been
only an ordinary street ruffian. Personally it won't make
much difference to me for I am pretty handy with my fists,
but as I know you have had no practice that way, I recom-
mend you always to carry a pistol when you go out at night."
"I always do, Hartington; I always have one in each
pocket of my coat."
" Well, they may be useful, but I should recommend you
to be careful and to walk in the middle of the street when
you are in doubtful neighbourhoods. A pistol is very good in
its way, but it takes time to get it out and cock it, while one's
fist is always ready for service at an instant's notice."
By this time they had arrived at the door of the studio.
Arnold made no allusion to the subject for some days, and
then meeting Cuthbert at the door of his house said, —
" By the way, Hartington, I have reason to believe that
you were right that that blow you luckily escaped was meant
for me. However, I don't think there will be any recurrence
of the matter ; in fact, I may say that I am sure there won't."
" That is all right then, Dampierre. Of course, I don't
want the matter followed up in any way, and should not have
spoken about it had I not thought that I ought to give you
warning."
" I feel very much indebted to you, anyhow, Hartington.
Probably, had I been in your place, the matter would have
gone altogether differently."
Arnold had, in fact, learnt with absolute certainty who
had been Cuthbert's assailant. When he went up to Mont-
martre he told Minette what had happened, and added, " He
suspects that the scoundrel took him in the dark for me."
" Why should anyone bear ill-will to you ? " Minette asked.
" That I can't say, but I do think that very likely he is
right. He keeps himself to himself, never attends meetings of
any kind, and can hardly have made an enemy, while it is
possible that I may have done so."
Minette was thoughtful for some time, and when her
father joined them and said that it was time to be off to a
meeting, she asked him abruptly, —
Have you seen Jean Diantre to-day ? "
Ay," I have seen him, and a pretty sight he is."
" How is that, father ? "
" He took more liquor than was good for him and got a
bad fall as he was going upstairs to his room, and, as luck
would have it, his mouth caught the edge of the stone step.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 89
His lips were all cut and swollen to four times their usual
size, and three of his teeth are out. Mon Dieu, what a cra«h
he must have got. He has been drinking a great deal lately,
and I have warned him over and over again that he would get
himself into trouble ; but, as a rule, liquor does not affect him
that way ; he gets sulky and bad-tempered, but he can gener-
ally walk steadily enough."
" Father, you must come with us to his lodgings," Minette
•exclaimed. " I have something to say to him. I suppose he
is up."
" But it is time to be at the meeting, Minette. What do
you want to see him for 1 "
"Never mind the meeting," she said impatiently. "We
shall be there before it is done. It is more important that I
should see Jean."
" Well, if it must b», it must," Dufaure grumbled, shrug-
ging his shoulders. " When you take a thing into your head
I know it is of no use talking."
Jean Diantre was sitting with two or three of his mates in
his attic over a small brazier of charcoal They rose in sur-
prise at the entrance of Minette and her father, followed by
the American. The girl, without speaking, walked straight
op to Jean.
"I knew you were a miserable," she said bitterly, "a
drunken, worthless scamp, but until now I did not know you
were a murderer. Yes, comrades, this man with whom you
sit and smoke is a miserable assassin. Yesterday evening he
tried to take the life of Arnold Dampierre here, whom you all
know as a friend of freedom and a hater of tyranny. This
brave companion of yours had not the courage to meet him
face to face, but stole up behind him in the dark and in
another moment would have slain the man he was following,
when the tables were turned. The man he had followed was
not Arnold Dampierre, but another ; and before this wretch
could strike with his knife, be knocked him down, stunned
him, and left him, like a dog that he is, on the pavement. No
doubt he has told you the lie that he told my father, that he
fell while going upstairs drunk. It was a blow of the fist that
has marked him as you see. The man he had tried to murder
did not even care to give him in charge. He despised this
cur too much, and yet the fellow may think himself fortunate.
Had it been Monsieur Dampierre it would not have been a
fist but a bullet through his head that would have punished
him. Now mark me, Jean Diantre," and she moved a pace
90 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
forward, so suddenly that the man started back, " you are a
known assassin and poltroon. If at any time harm befalls
Monsieur Dampierre, I will stab you with my own hand. If
you ever dare to speak to me again, I will hold you up to the
scorn of the women of the quarter. As it is, your comrades
have heard how mean and cowardly a scoundrel you are. Tou
had best move from Montmartre at once, for when this is
known no honest man will give you his hand, no man who re-
spects himself will work beside you. Hide yourself elsewhere,
for if you stay here I will hound you down, I will see that
you have not an hour's peace of your life. We Reds have our
ideas but we are not assassins. We do not sneak after a man
to stab him in the dark, and when we have arms in our hands
we are not to be beaten like curs by an unarmed man."
The other men had shrunk back from him as she spoke.
Jean quailed beneath her torrent of contemptuous words and
from the fury in her eyes. There was no doubting the fact
that her charges were true.
"Who drove me to it?" he said sullenly through his
swollen lips.
" Who drove you ? Drink and your evil temper drove you
to it. You wanted to marry me— me, who never gave you a
word of encouragement ; who knew you au fond, who knew
that you were at the best an idle, worthless scamp, and would
never have married you had there been no other living man in
the universe. But enough. I have said what I came to say,
and you had best take warning. Come, father, you have-
stood this fellow's friend and you have been wrong, but you
know him now."
Minette passed out through the door Arnold held open for
her, her father and Arnold followed, and the four other men,
without a word to Jean Diantre, went down the stairs after
them, leaving him to himself.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 91
CHAPTER IX
" It is hardly worth while, Minette," Arnold said, when they
reached the street ; " the man has had his lesson."
" I could not help it, dear/' she said, in a voice so changed
from that in which she had spoken to Jean Diantre, that no
one would have recognised it as the same ; " he had tried to
kill you, to take you from me. He thought it was you who
had struck him, and hated you worse than ever. It is not
because he has failed once that he might fail another time.
I should never have had a moment's peace when you were
away from me, but I think now you will be safe; he will
remove his quarters and go to Yillette or to the south side ; he
will not dare to show his face in Montmartre again. You are
sure you always carry your pistol, Arnold ? "
"Yes, I promised you I would, and I have done so. I
have a small revolver in each pocket."
"Then in future, when you are out at night, promise me
always to walk with one hand in your pocket, holding the
butt of your pistol, so that you can draw and fire instantly.
He knows you have pistols and will not dare to attack you
singly, and even should he find two or three villains as bad as
himself, you would be a match for them."
" I will take care of myself, Minette, but I do not think
it likely that he will renew the attempt. I could see that the
man was a coward. He was as pale as a sheet, partly with
rage that* he had been discovered and exposed, but partly, I
am sure, from fear too. I know you meant well, dear, but I
would rather that you had not done it. I love you best when
you are gentle and womanly. You almost frighten me when
you blaze out like that."
" I am sorry," she said penitently, " but I felt for the time
mad that your life should have been attempted. I scarcely
knew what I was saying. Do you think that anyone could
be gentle and mild when she had just heard that her lover,
her all, had been almost taken from her by a cowardly
blow. Still I know I am wrong, do not be angry with
me, Arnold."
" I am not angry, dear," he said, and truly ; for no man
can feel really angry with a woman for over zeal in his own
cause, " Do not let us say any more about it, the fellow is
not worth a thought We shall probably never hear of him
again."
92 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" I hope not, Arnold, but after what he tried to do I shall
never feel quite free from anxiety so long as you are in Paris.
I wish your English friend had handed him over to the
police."
" I have no doubt he would have done so, but, as he told
me, the idea that the fellow was anything else than a street
ruffian did not come to him till afterwards. You know what
a business it is bringing a charge of any kind here, and Hart-
ington, having himself punished him pretty severely, did not
•care for the trouble of carrying it further."
The news was rapidly spread in the cabarets by the men
who had been present at Minette's denunciation that Jean
Diantre had endeavoured to assassinate the American, and
much indignation was excited. Had he drawn a knife upon
-a fellow-workman over their wine, the matter would have
excited but slight reprobation, but that he should have crept
up in the dark to attempt to assassinate one who was a de-
nouncer of tyrants, a representative of the great Republic,
was voted to be infamous.
Various punishments were suggested as appropriate for
such a crime, but Jean did not appear at his accustomed
haunts in the morning, and inquiry showed that he had paid
his rent the evening before, had sold his furniture for a few
francs to one of the other lodgers in the house, and had left
the quarter altogether. Resolutions were passed at the next
meeting denouncing him as a traitor to the sacred cause of
humanity, and then the matter was forgotten altogether save
by Minette. ^
As time went on the luxuries of life altogether disappeared
from the shop windows, but there was still no lack of the
absolute necessaries. The stores of corn and rice turned out
to be vastly larger than had been supposed. The herds of
cattle, gathered under shelter of the guns of the forts, had
disappeared, but horseflesh was still fairly abundant. Vege-
tables were not dear, for numbers of people went out every
morning to the gardens and fields surrounding Paris and
returned laden with them.
The animals in the public collection were all killed, and the
carcasses of all the eatable creatures sold at high prices, and
for a time elephant steak, camel hump, venison, and other
meats could be purchased at restaurants, although no doubt
the horse furnished the foundation of the greater portion of
these dishes.
The swans, and other aquatic birds, fetched fabulous prices.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 93-
and their purchase was the occasion of many banquets in
houses where such entertainments had become rare. Still
there were no signs that the time when Paris was to make
its attempt to burst its bonds was at hand. Among the
National Guard complaints at the long inaction were incessant
but there was good reason for doubt whether the discontent
was as general as it seemed.
It was one thing to talk of sweeping the Prussians before
them, quite another to take a part in the performance. Still
the steady drilling that went on had its effect. If the
National Guard did not learn discipline, they at least gained
the power to make a respectable appearance and to go through
simple manoeuvres fairly.
They walked more erect, and even assumed a military
swagger, and spoke somewhat contemptuously of the line and
mobiles, whose discipline was as lax as their own, and among
whom drunkenness was rife, for whatever else failed, the
supply of wine and spirits appeared inexhaustible. Cuthbert
went not unfrequently to dine at the English restaurant of
Phipson, where the utter and outspoken contempt of the
proprietor for the French in general, and the Parisians in
particular, amused him greatly.
" To see these fellows giving themselves military airs when
they take care never to get within gunshot of the enemy, it
is enough to make one's blood boil, Mr Hartington. I believe
that a couple of score of stable-boys with pitchforks would
lick a battalion of them, and it is worse still when one goes
out on the Boulevards and sees them sitting at the cafi*
drinking their absinthe as if there was no enemy within a
hundred yards of the place. I have never liked them, sir, but
I am downright sickened by them now. I shall sell out as
soon as this is over."
"I don't think they are as bad as they seem, Phipson.
If the Prussians ever do force a way into Paris, I think
you will see that these fellows can fight, and fight des-
perately."
" So will a rat, Mr Hartington, if you corner him, but he
will run as long as he gets the chance. I think it will do
them a world of good, and take down some of their cockyness,
if the Prussians did come in. I could not stand it, and, as
you see, I have put my shutters up, and only let in English
customers I know. I tell you I can't bring myself to serving
horseflesh. I have got a few first-rate hams still hanging in
the cellar. As long as they last, and I can pick up anything
94 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
fit for a human being to sit down to, I shall go on ; bat I
ain't going to give my customers grab that is only fit for
hounds. I have not come down to be a cat's-meat man yet.
As to drink, I have got, as you know, a goodish supply of as
fine whisky as ever was brewed, but it won't be long before
that will be the only thing I shall have to sell. I see you
still stick to your soldiering, Mr Hartington."
"Oh, yes, now I have begun I shall go through with it>
though it is not so pleasant as it was a month ago, for the
nights are getting cold; still there is plenty of excitement
About it, and we manage to keep the Prussians awake as well
as ourselves. Whatever it may be with the National Guard,
there is plenty of pluck among the students. I could not
wish to have better comrades."
" Well, there is one advantage, sir, in that uniform. You
can go about without being suspected of, for being a foreigner
is just the same in the eyes of these chaps as being a spy.
It is rum, now, that while this place is pretty nigh kept up
by the money the English and Americans spend here, they
don't like us not one bit."
" How do you make that out, Phipson ? "
" I don't know that I can make it out at all. I take it
it is because we have always licked them, sir, and always shall
do. There was the old days when the Black Prince thrashed
them. I am a Canterbury boy, and have seen his armour
hanging up in the Cathedral many a time ; that is how I come
to know about him. And then I have heard that Marl-
borough used to crumple them up whenever he met them;
and then there was Wellington again. Why, they have never
had so much as a chance with us, and on sea we have licked
them worse than on land. Well, it ain't in nature men should
like that."
" Those are old stories, Phipson, and I don't think they have
much to do with the dislike the French have of us. I think
it is more because they cannot help seeing for themselves that
they are no longer the first power in the world, and that
England has passed them in the race."
"That may have something to do with it, sir, but from
what I have heard them say, and from what I have seen
myself, I think it is partly because Frenchmen find themselves
but poor sort of creatures by the side of most Englishmen.
I have heard them say that Englishmen walked about the
streets of Paris just as if the place belonged to them ; and
there ain't no doubt that an Englishman does somehow or
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 95
other put his foot down and square his shoulders in a way
you never see a Frenchman do. I have noticed it myself
many a time, and then, if he does get into a row with a
Frenchman, the fellow hasn't a chance with him. I expect
that galls them a bit. Anyhow, they don't like it. They
don't hate the Americans so much as they do us, though why
they shouldn't is more than I can see, for there ain't much
difference between us, except that there are very few of them
who know how to use their hands. Well, anyhow, I shall be
glad to have done with the French, though I will say for
them that the lot that uses my place is a good deal better than
the generality. For the most part they dress as English ;
that is to say, they get their clothes made by English tailors,
but, lor' bless you, it ain't no use. They can't wear them when
they have got them — not to look easy and comfortable in
them. I have scores of times wondered what the difference
is, and I could not tell you to save my life; but, for all
that, I can tell a Frenchman the moment he comes in, no
matter how he's got up. There ain't no occasion for them
to open their mouths. I can spot them as easy as one could
tell the difference between a thoroughbred and a common
roadster."
As a rule, the Franc Tireurs des £coles went out on the
southern or western sides of Paris, but one morning they
marched out to St Denis.
"There has been some pretty hot skirmishing on that
side," the Colonel said to his officers before starting, " and I
have been asked to march you out in that direction, and tw
take up the outpost duties on a portion of the line there.
The troops have been having a pretty hard time of it, and
have been pushed backward once or twice, though they have
alway ended by winning back the ground they had lost. We
have a reputation of keeping our eyes open, and the General
told me this morning that I might consider it as a compli-
ment we were sent there."
They were marched to a small cluster of houses, and re-
lieved two companies of the line who had been on duty there
-daring the night. It was the first time a specific post had
been assigned to them, and the men were in high spirits at
what they considered an honour. The authorities treated
the Franc Tireurs as being valueless for any real fighting ; as
being useful to a certain extent for harassing the enemy's
outposts, but not to be counted upon for any regular work,
and so omitted them altogether in the orders assigning the
96 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
positions to be occupied. The corps therefore considered it a.
feather in their caps to be assigned a position by the side of
the regulars. The fires of the troops were still burning, and
the men were soon at work cooking their breakfast, one com-
pany being thrown out in the front of the village.
The houses all bore signs of the strife. Some were almost
unroofed, others had yawning holes in the walls, the work of
shell from the Prussian field-guns, while all were pitted with
scars of bullets on the side facing the enemy. Scarce a pane
of glass remained intact. The floors had been torn up for
firing, and the furniture had shared the same fate. A breast-
work had been thrown up some fifty yards in front of the-
village, and the houses had been connected by earthen walls,
so that if the outwork were taken, the place could be de-
fended until reinforcements came up.
A hundred yards to the left there was a battery of six
guns, and another on a mound four or five hundred yards to-
the right. In the daytime their fire covered the village,,
and there was little chance of the Germans attempting an
attack until after nightfall. The enemy occupied in force a.
village of some size, five hundred yards away, and had
covered it with strong earthworks. Their outposts faced those
of the French with an interval of some two hundred yards-
between them. The sentries on duty were stationed at dis-
tances varying from ten to twenty paces apart, behind walla
or banks of earth. The enemy's outposts were similarly
protected.
Shots were exchanged at intervals throughout the day
between French batteries on the right and left and a redoubt
the Germans had thrown up on a rise four or five hundred
yards behind their village ; the gunners on both sides occasion-
ally directing their fire upon the houses ; the outposts were for
the most part silent, as it was seldom indeed that even a
momentary glimpse was obtained of helmet or kepi, and the-
orders were that there was to be no useless firing.
During the day the companies took turn at outpost duty,
but when night fell the line was strengthened, half the men
being under rifles, while the rest lay down with their arms,
by their side ready to fall in at a moment's notice. A drop-
ping fire was kept up on both sides, but this was rather for the-
purpose of showing that they were on the alert than with any
idea of harming the invisible foe.
At ten o'clock Cuthbert went out with the half-company
to which he belonged, to relieve their comrades who had been*
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 97
for the last three hours in the front line. They had been
some little time on duty when Pierre Leroux, who was in
charge of the half-company, said to Des Valles, who com-
manded the whole of the outposts, —
" It seems to me that I can hear a deep sound ; it comes
in pulsations, and I think it is a considerable body of men
Inarching. ,,
The Captain listened with bent head for a short time.
"You are right, Pierre; there is certainly a movement
of some sort going on in front, but I fancy it is some distance
away ; if they were marching on a village in front we should
hear it more plainly. Tou had better send out' three or four
men from your right — let them go some distance along before
they attempt to creep forward. The Prussian sentries are
too thick along there facing us, but the men might pos-
sibly crawl pretty close up to their outposts farther along,
they won't be so thick there. Pick four good men, it is a
dangerous service. Tell them to get as near as they can to
their sentries without being observed, and then to lie and
listen attentively. They will have a better chance of hearing
there than we have. There is no getting the men to lie
perfectly quiet here."
"Can I take three men and go myself with them, Des
Valles 1"
"Yes, if you like. I will stop with the company until
you return. "
The Lieutenant went along the line, stopping at each man
to ask his name. He chose Cuthbert and two men, one
from each of the principal art schools, as he thought it might
look like favouritism if he took all from among his own com-
rades. The sentries became more and more scattered as he
went along, the main body being posted in front of the
village. The last few men were warned that he was going
forward, and that they were not to fire until he returned.
He sent the last man on the line to communicate with
the outposts, furnished by the corps occupying the ground
farther to the right, that some men were going out to
reconnoitre. Then he and his companions cautiously crawled
forward.
They were rather more than half-way across the ground
when Cuthbert uttered an exclamation as he came in sudden
contact with a figure advancing with similar caution in the
opposite direction. It needed not a guttural oath in German
to inform him that it was an enemy. Touching as they were.
98 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
neither could use their arms, and instinctively they grappled
with each other as they lay on the ground.
" Look out, Leroux, I have got hold of a German," Outh-
bert said in a low voice, while, at the same moment, his
antagonist said something to the same effect in German.
The Lieutenant and the other two men leapt to their feet,
and as they did so four or five men sprang up close in front
of them.
" Fire ! " Leroux exclaimed, and the two men discharged
their pieces. Some shots flashed out in front of them, but in
the darkness none were hit, and in a moment they were en-
gaged in a hand-to-hand fight with their foes.
In the meantime Outhbert and his antagonist were rolling
over and over, locked closely in each other's arms. Seizing a
moment when he came uppermost, Outhbert steadied himself,
relaxed his hold of his opponent, and, half-kneeling, managed to
free himself from his embrace, and gripped him by the throat.
The fight between the others was a short one. The lieu-
tenant had run one of his opponents through the body, but
a German had equalised matters by bringing the butt of his
musket down on the head of one of the Franc Tireurs, and
being now but two against four, Pierre called to the other
to retreat. The Germans followed a few yards and then
halted. As they passed him Outhbert gave a final squeeze to
his antagonist's throat, and feeling sure that he would not be
able to speak for some time, he crept away for a few yards
and lay still among the cabbages that covered the field.
" Where is the sergeant 1 " one of the Germans said in a
low voice, as they retraced their steps. " He must have been
somewhere here when he called."
After two or three minutes' search they came upon him.
" He is alive," one of them said, stooping over him ; " he
is gasping for breath. I think he is dying, but, anyhow, we
may as well carry him."
They lifted the man, and as they did so several shots rang
out from the French outposts. As soon as they had gone on
Outhbert sat up to listen. He could hear now the heavy
tread of men who were, it seemed to him, crossing from the
right towards the German village. He listened for a minute
or two to assure himself that he was not mistaken, and then
crawled back towards his own outposts.
" Don't fire," he said, when he knew that he must be near
to them ; " I am one of those who went out just now."
"Don't fire," he heard a voice he knew to be the lieu-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 99
tenant's repeat, " it is Hartington. I was afraid he was done
for." A minute later he joined him.
At this moment a sharp fire broke out from the German
lines, showing that their party had also returned to their
outposts.
" You will find Des Yalles farther along, Hartington ; if
you have anything to report you had better go to him at once,
you can tell me afterwards how you escaped. I had quite -
given you up."
" I suppose I had better go to him," Outhbert said, "but I
have not much to report, except that there is no doubt the
noise we heard was caused by a heavy column of men march-
ing into the village over there."
Cuthbert found the Captain and made his report.
" Thank you, Hartington. We were pretty well convinced
it was so, for even before the firing between your party and
the Germans began, the sound was loud enough to be clearly
•distinguished. I suppose you can give no guess at their
numbers 1 "
" They were a strong body, but how strong I could not
tell. A hundred Prussians marching will make as much noise
as five hundred Frenchmen, but even allowing for that I should
think there will be at least one strong battalion, perhaps
more."
" If that is the case we must be on the look-out. Of course,
they may fancy we mean to attack them, but on the other
hand they may intend to push forward. I will go with you to
the Colonel, he ought to know what you think about it. He
was along here a few minutes ago, but the noise was not so
plain then, and we did not estimate the force to be anything
like as strong as it is in your opinion."
Cuthbert made his report to the Colonel, and the latter at
once went forward with Des Yalles to the outposts, after
giving orders for the men in the houses to fall in at once and
be ready either to advance to support the front line or to man
the barricades and houses, and cover their retreat. Reaching
the outposts the sound of marching was no longer heard, but
there was a faint, continuous murmur, which could be plainly
made out in the intervals of the fire kept up by the enemy.
" What do you think it is, Des Valles ? " the Colonel asked,
after listening some time.
" I should say, sir, that the column has broken up in the
village, and the men are making their way to the front in open
order. If I were to suggest, Colonel, I should say it would be
100 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
as well to send off men to the two batteries to tell them that
the enemy are mustering in force in the village opposite to us,
and that we expect to be attacked, and also to the officers
commanding the troops on either side of us."
Four men were at once despatched, and ten minutes later
the batteries almost simultaneously opened fire on the village.
As if it had been a signal, a crashing volley was fired from the
line held by the German outposts.
" Here they come ! " the Colonel shouted ; " steady, men ;
wait till you see them, then open fire upon them as quickly
as you can load, but aim steadily. -Captain Des Yalles, will
you warn the line to the left that they are, when the word
is given, to retreat at the double, bearing away first to the left
so as to clear the ground for the fire from the houses f As
soon as they are abreast of them they are to enter at the rear
and aid in the defence. Captain Rainault, will you take
similar orders away to the right ? Ah, here they are."
As he spoke, a storm of musketry broke out all along the
line as a dark mass could be seen approaching. But the
enemy were too strong to be resisted, and in a few seconds the
Colonel shouted the orders to retreat. Then at the top of
their speed the Franc Tireurs ran back, and the instant they
cleared off from the front of the houses the Colonel shouted to
the officer in command there to open fire.
In half a minute the Franc Tireurs were in the enclosure.
Each company had already had its position, in case of attack
assigned to it. For a short time only those on the side facing
the enemy were engaged, but the Prussians speedily over-
lapped the position and attacked it on all sides. Several times
they rushed up close to the barricades, but the fire was so hot
that they were compelled to fall back again. The circle of fire
afforded the gunners in the battery sufficient indication as to-
the position of the defenders, and their shell fell rapidly both
in front and behind it.
The fight had lasted but a few minutes when a crashing
volley was fired from the left. The attack on the houses at
once slackened, as the Prussians turned to oppose the rein-
forcements that had come up, but when, shortly afterwards,
the regiment from the other side also reached the scene of
action their commander felt the surprise had failed, and the
Prussians retired to their former position, and the affair was
over. Four companies of the line were left to strengthen the
position should the enemy try another attack before daybreak,
and then, after congratulating the Colonel of the Frana
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 101
Tireurs on the vigilance that had prevented his being taken
by surprise, and the sturdy defence he had made, the officers
of the line withdrew their men to the positions they had
before occupied.
The loss of the Franc Tireurs was small. The volley
that had preceded the attack had done no execution whatever,
and as they had fought in shelter they had lost but eight men
killed and a score wounded. It was the sharpest affair in which
they had as yet been engaged, and the old Colonel was highly
pleased with the result. After the outposts had resumed
their former position, Cuthbert related to his comrades the
particulars of his struggle with the Prussian sergeant.
" We were pretty well matched," he said, " and I suppose
were equally surpised when we found each other grappling in
the dark. Of course, neither of us knew how many supporters
the other had close at hand, but the first thought that struck
me was that 1 must silence him if possible before his comrades
came to his assistance. 1 was only afraid that 1 should not
be able to shake myself free from his grip so as to get to his
throat, but fortunately he relaxed his hold the moment he felt
that 1 had loosened mine, and as 1 was on the top of him the
rest was easy."
" Well, you got well out of it anyhow, Ha^tington, ,, Pierre
said. " You did not see anything of the man who was knocked
down by a musket, did you ? "
" No, it did not occur to me to look for him, but if you like
I will go out with you and bring him in."
" That is a very good idea, Hartington ; probably he was
only stunned. I will go and get leave for us to do so."
However, just as he turned to go a call was heard in front,
and a minute later a man came in.
"He had," he said, when he recovered consciousness,
" heard a tremendous firing going on, and as soon as he could
colli ct his thoughts became assured that the enemy must be
attacking the village. He therefore concluded that the best
thing was to lie still, which he did until the fire ceased and he
could hear the Prussians retreating. Then he had crawled in
until close to the line of outposts."
u I am heartily glad to see you back again," Pierre said,
shaking him by the hand. " It would always have been a
subject of regret to me if the expedition that I proposed had
lost you your life. As to those who fell in defence of the village
I have no personal responsibility, but I should certainly have
felt that your death always lay at my door."
102 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
CHAPTER X
Another month and a great change had come over Paris.
The spirit of empty gasconnade had been succeeded by one
more befitting the time and circumstances. As the hopes of
assistance from without lessened, the spirit of resistance grew
stronger and firmer. There was no longer any talk of sweep-
ing the Prussians out of France, no longer was it an article of
faith that Paris would be saved ; but the thought of surrender
was farther than ever from men's minds. Paris would resist
to the last. She would give time to France to reorganise her-
self, and would set such an example of devotion and patience
under suffering, that when at last famine forced her to sur-
render, the world should at least say that Paris had proved
herself worthy of her reputation.
The defences had been strengthened to an enormous ex-
tent ; the outlying forts which, when the siege began, could
have been carried without much difficulty by a resolute attack,
had now been rendered practically impregnable ; their ap-
proaches had been thickly mined, obstacles of all sorts erected
round them, and the casements, barracks and magazines pro-
tected by coverings of trunks of trees and so great a depth of
earth as to be able to defy the heaviest shell.
The walls of the enceinte had been repaired and greatly
strengthened, and covered by bastions and other works, so
that even were one of the forts taken the work of the enemy
would but be begun. The theatres had been closed from the
first. The cafes, chantants and the open-air concerts had
long since followed the example, partly because of the increas-
ing seriousness of the temper of the people, partly because of
the failure of the gas. The cafes themselves were no longer
crowded until midnight ; the dim lights of the lamps that had
taken the place of gas gave a sombre air to these establish-
ments, and by eight o'clock in the evening most of them put
up their shutters.
The National Guard were being re-organised. From each
battalion, three or four hundred of the most able-bodied, for
the most part unmarried, men had, by order of the Govern-
ment, been selected and formed into companies for service in
the field, and these promised in a short time to develop into
troops equal in physique and spirit to the mobiles, and vastly
superior to the line.
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 103
Ladies no longer appeared in the streets in rich dresses.
It was felt that these were out of place now, and all adorn-
ments had been rigidly given up, and the women of the better
class set the example of dressing in the simplest of costumes
and the quietest of colours. Great numbers had devoted
themselves to the services of the hospitals and ambulances,
and s A ent the whole of their time in ministering to the sick
and wounded.
As yet there was little real suffering in Paris, and the
privations and inconveniences were borne uncomplainingly,
and even cheerfully. Beef had become almost unobtainable,
but it was agreed that horse-flesh was not a bad substitute ;
cats and dogs were fast disappearing from the streets, and
their flesh, prepared in a variety of ways, took the place on
the cards of the restaurants of hares and game, and the change
was hardly noticed.
Cuthbert was working hard. The school was now definitely
closed, but those who liked to do so were free to work there
when they chose. M. Goude* had taken advantage of the
cessation of lessons to paint on his own account, and was
engaged upon a large canvas which be announced was in-
tended for the Salon.
" All this," he said, " has wiped away old quarrels. If I
were fit for it I would do as so many of the artists of Paris
have done — take my place in the ranks — but I am past the
age for marching and sleeping in ditches ; but I can entertain
no further anger against men who are fighting for France. It
is the duty of those who cannot fight to paint. When the
Salon opens we must show the world that in spite of these
barbarians France still holds her head high, and is at the
head of civilisation."
Cuthbert, however, was not among the number of those
who used the painting-room. He had chosen his lodging so
as to have a north light, and kept his door closed from early
morning until the light faded. An ardour for work had seized
him, and it was with reluctance that he put aside his brush
when the clay's work was over. He was engaged upon two
pictures, and worked upon them alternately as the mood seized
him. When he had done for the day the canvas was always
covered up and the easels placed behind a screen in the corner
of the room, and the doors opened to his friends.
Once a week for two days, when the corps marched out to
take its turn at outpost work, the work was laid by. Be-
tween the regular troops on either side there was but an occa-
104 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
sional exchange of shots, except when one or the other side
attempted to advance its positions ; but this was seldom, for
every post of advantage and every village was now so strongly
fortified as to defy capture except by a large force.
The Germans had recognised already that Paris was not
to be taken by force, at the cost except of a tremendous
expenditure of life ; therefore they were content to close every
avenue of escape, and to leave it to famine to do the work
for them. The French on their side felt that minor operations
to enlarge their boundary somewhat were but a vain effort,
and reserved themselves for a great attempt to break through
the line. The Franc Tireurs, however, were ever active.
They kept up an increasing fusillade upon the Prussian out-
posts night and day, keeping them in a state of perpetual
irritation and watchfulness.
Except when on this service, Cuthbert saw but little of
Arnold Dampierre. The latter had entirely given up paint-
ing, and was seldom at his lodgings ; nor when at home did he
join in the smoking-parties at one or other of the students 1
rooms. Other luxuries had given out, but tobacco was still
fairly cheap, and its solace made up for many privations. Nor
was Arnold's absence regretted. He had never been popular,
and on the few occasions when he appeared among them he
was so moody and taciturn that his absence was felt as a
relief. When on duty with the corps, however, he was
always in good spirits. He seemed to delight in action,
and was ever ready to volunteer for any dangerous work,
such as crawling up close to the German outposts to ascertain
their precise positions. He had so many narrow escapes that
his comrades declared that he held a charmed life against
Prussian bullets.
"The American would be a pleasant fellow if we were
always under arms," Pierre Leroux said one evening. " He is
not the same man directly we get outside the walls, he is
cheerful, good-tempered, and full of ardour ; here he is a bear.
He will get into trouble if he does not mind. I was this
afternoon opposite the Hotel de Ville. There were many of
the unwashed denouncing the Government and its ways to
all who would listen to them. Dampierre was standing in
one of the groups where a man, who I knew to be Minette's
father, for he came to the studio one day to say that she
was unwell and could not come, was addressing them. He
was pouring out threats against the bourgeois, against the
Government, against everyone in fact. He said that at
"Carrying herself with the ai
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 105
present the trne patriots, the working men of Paris, were
disarmed, but even had they arms, they would not imperil
the defence of Paris by civil war; but that as soon as the
accursed Germans had turned their backs, their day would
come, and the true principles of the Republic, the principles
of '79, would then be triumphant, and France would be free
of the incubus of the selfish capitalists, who ground down
the people. I could see that Dampierre thoroughly sym-
pathised with the fellow, and I believe that if there is trouble
he is capable of putting on a red cap and marching with the
scum of Belleville.
" It is not Minette's father, but Minette who has converted
him. I sa w her marching at the head of one of the Belleville
battalions the other day dressed as a cantinidre, and carrying
herself with the air of a young Amazon."
"That girl is capable of auything," Cuthbert said. "I
have always said that she was a small sleeping volcano, and
if there are barricades I can fancy her standing on the top of
one of them and waving a red flag, however thickly the bullets
might be whistling around. I went as far as I could in the
way of warning Dampierre in the early days, but I soon saw
that if we were to continue on terms of amity I must drop it.
It is an infatuation, and a most unfortunate one, but it must
run its course. Dampierre is a gentleman, and although at
present he may be carried away by the enthusiasm of these
people, I fancy that if they should happen, which, God forbid,
to get the upper hand, he would soon be shocked when they
proceeded to carry their theories into execution. As to
Minette, if he is ever mad enough to marry her, the best
thing would be to do so as soon as Paris is open, and to
take her straight away to New Orleans.
"She is a born actress, and is as clever as she is pretty,
and I have no doubt she would have the good sense to play
the part of a grande dame admirably, and would soon become
a leader of French society there; but I should be sorry to
predict how long it would last, and what would come after
it, and I believe in my heart that the best thing that could
happen for him would be to be knocked over by a Prussian
bullet. But after all the thing may never come off. A girl
like Minette must have lovers in her own class. I have no
doubt she is fond of Dampierre at present, but no one can
say how long it will last. I can imagine that she is proud
of her conquest. He is good-lookin£, a gentleman, and rich.
No doubt she is envied in her quarter, and, besides, it must
106 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
be a gratification to her to have induced or fascinated him
into casting in his lot with the Reds, but all that will pall
in time. If I were in his place I should never feel sure of
her until I had placed the ring on her finger.' 1
" That is the time when I should begin not to feel sure of
her," Rene* laughed ; " my anxieties would begin then. She
is as changeable as an April sky. She could love passionately
for a time, but for how long I should be sorry to guess. You
see her in the studio ; she is delighted with every fresh dress
and fresh pose. Never was there so good a model for a few
days, then she gets tired of it and wants something fresh.
She is like a child with a new doll ; for a bit she will be wild
over it, she cannot sleep without it, she takes it with her
everywhere, she adores it, but will soon be thrown by, and
perhaps she will be battering its head with a stick. When
Minette first came to the studio I was mad about her, now I
would as soon have a tiger cat for a mistress."
" That is too severe, Rene\" a young man, who had joined
the studio but three months before, expostulated ; " she seemed
to me a charming young woman. I cannot understand what
you and Cuthbert are talking of her in this way for/'
Rene* laughed.
" Ah, you haven't got over the first stage yet, and many
of the others will agree with you. We all like her, you know ;
we are all glad to have her with us. She is like a glass of
champagne, and we cannot say anything against her in that
quality. It is only when one comes to talk about her as a
wife that one is frightened."
" I believe all this is on account of her standing last month
as Judith about to kill Holof ernes."
" Perhaps you are right, Clement I admit that was a
revelation to me. I used to laugh at Cuthbert, who declared
she frightened him, but I felt then he was right. Good
heavens, what a Judith she was ; it was enough to make one
shiver to see the look of hate, of triumph, and of vengeance in
her face. One knew that one blow would do it ; that his head
would be severed by that heavy knife she held as surely as a
Maitre d'Armes would cut a dead sheep in two."
" It was only a piece of acting, Rene\ You might as well
say that a tragedienne would be capable of carrying out a
tragedy in her own family."
" Perhaps so, Clement, but then you see it would never
occur to me to marry a tragedienne. I should imagine that
she would ask for the salt in the same tone that she would
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 107
demand poison. I grant it was acting, but there was a terrific
truth about it that showed that she was at least able to
picture the position and feel it. I tried to sketch her, but I
gave it up as hopeless. It was beyond me altogether. I
observed that all the others failed too, except Cuthbert here.
He dashed it off in his note-book, and if he ever paints it, I
would not have it hung up in my bedroom for a thousand
francs, for I should never dare to go to sleep with it looking
at me. But, indeed, of late Minette has changed a good deal.
The little fool is carried away by all this talk up at Belleville,
and takes it quite seriously. You remember she has refused
our last three invitations, and she said quite superbly when I
asked her the last time, ' This is no time for feasting and en-
joyment, M. Bene\ when Paris is besieged and thousands are
starving.' "
" Then I don't know where they are," Pierre said. " Belle-
ville was never so well off as it is to-day. Every man gets a
franc and a half a day for wearing a kepi and going for a
few hours once a week on duty on the walls. His wife gets
something, and they have so much for each child. They have
no work to do, and I am told that although six francs a day
are offered by the Government for labourers they cannot get
enough men. The fellows enjoy smoking, lounging, talking
and doing nothing too much to be tempted by any offer.
There may be starvation before we have done ; but, at anyrate,
there is none at present, for every man, woman and child draws
their ration of meat, not a large one, but enough to get on
with. Besides, bread is not very dear, and there is no lack of
vegetables, brought in every day from beyond the forts."
" I said as much to Minette, Pierre, but she only muttered
that working men would not always exist on charity, and the
time would come when there would be plenty for all. We
shall have trouble with them before we have done, I expect.
What do you think, Henri ? "
The Lieutenant took his pipe out of his mouth and nodded.
" There will be trouble," he said. " I have been up to
Belleville several times. This spell of idleness is doing much
harm. As soon as we have done with the Prussians we shall
have the Reds on our hands."
" We are* seven to one against them," Rene' said con-
temptuously. " The voting the other day snowed that."
" Ah, but the seventh know what they want. They want
to be masters. They want money enough to keep them with-
out work. They want to set the streets flowing with blood.
108 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNIS
The other six only want to be left alone. They have no idea
of risking their lives, and you will see, when it begins, they
will hold the butts of their muskets up ; they will say, ' Don't
let us irritate these demons/ and each man will hope that, even
if others are robbed, he will somehow escape.
" You cannot rely on the National Guard ; it is no use to
count them in, and the mobiles only want to be off to their
villages. If the troops had a leader they might fight, but who
is to lead them ? Trochu is an imbecile, the real fighting army
is in the prisons of Germany, and when it is released, will not
care to embark in another war. I think things look bad."
" What should we do ? " Pierre asked.
" We should paint," Henri said ; " that is to say, we should
paint if things go as I think they will, and the National Guard
refuse to fight. If the men who have something to lose won't
lift an arm to defend it, why should we, who have nothing at
stake ? "
" You might paint, but who is going to buy your pictures,
Henri?" Cuthbert said quietly. "As soon as the Reds get
the upper hand, we shall have the guillotine at work, and the
first heads to fall will be those of your best customers. You
don't suppose the ruffians of Belleville are going to become
patrons of art. For my part, I would rather fight against the
savages than level my rifle against the honest German lad*
who are led here against us. I should think no more of shoot-
ing one of these roughs than of killing a tiger — indeed, I re-
gard the tiger as the more honest beast of the two. Still, if
you Frenchmen like to be ruled over by King Mob, it is no
business of mine. Thank God such a thing is never likely to
happen in England — at anyrate in my time. In the first
place, we can trust our troops, and in the second, we could
trust ourselves. Were there not a soldier in the land, such a
thing will never happen. Our workmen have sense enough to
know that a mob rule would be ruin to them as well as to the
rich, and, were it needed, in twenty-four hours half a million
men could be sworn in as constables, and these would sweep
the rabble into the Thames."
" Your rabble would be unarmed, ours have, at present, all
got muskets."
" More fools they who gave them to them, but what can
one expect from such a Government ? There is not among
them a single practical man, except Gambetta, and he is away
at Tours. It is a Government of lawyers and spouters ; of
words they give us plenty, of government nothing. I would
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 109
rather, infinitely rather, that the women at the Halles should
choose a dozen of the most capable women among them, and
establish them as the Government. I will guarantee you
would see a change for the better before twenty-four hours
were over. I doubt if you could see a change for the worse.
Jules Fauvre, with his ridiculous phrase, ' Not one foot of our
territory, not one stone of our fortresses, 1 is no better than a
mountebank, and the others are as bad. Would that either
Ducrot or Vinoy had the firmness and half the talent of a
Napoleon. They would march the troops in, sweep away this
gathering of imbeciles, establish martial law, disarm Belleville
and Montmartre, shoot Flour ens, Pyat, Blanqui and a hun-
dred of the most noxious of these vermin ; forbid all assembl-
ages, turn the National Guards into soldiers, and, after render-
ing Paris impotent for mischief, turn their attention to the
Germans. The one thing that can save Paris to my mind is
a military dictator, but I see no sign of such a man being
forthcoming."
" Bravo ! bravo ! " several of the students shouted, " what
a pity it is that you are an Englishman, Cuthbert. You
would be just the man for us otherwise."
" At anyrate, I should do something, and not let every-
thing drift," Cuthbert retorted, joining in the laughs at his
own unaccustomed vehemence ; "but there, we have broken
our agreement, now let us revert to art." But the effort was
vain, the talk soon drifted back again to the siege, and many
were the conjectures as to what Trochu's famous plan could
be, and which point offered the most hopeful chance for the
army to pierce the German cordon."
Mary Brander had a fortnight before enrolled herself
among the nurses at the American ambulance, which was
doing admirable work, and was admitted by the French them-
selves to be a model which could be followed with great ad-
vantage in their own hospitals. Here everything was neat,
clean and well arranged. The wounded were lodged in tents,
which were well ventilated, and yet warm. The surgeons
and some of the nurses were also under canvas, while others,
among whom was Mary Brander, went back to their homes
when their turn of duty was over. They had, like the ladies
who worked in the French hospitals, adopted a sort of uni-
form, and wore the white badge, with the' red cross on their
arms. With this they could go unquestioned, and free from
impertinent remarks, through the thickest crowds, everyone
making way for them with respectful civility.
110 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" It is terrible," she siid to Cuthbert, upon his calling one
evening when she was off duty, " and yet I do not feel it so
trying as listening to the silly talk and seeing the follies of
the people in the streets. The poor fellows bear their suffer-
ings so patiently, they are so grateful for every little thing
done for them, that one cannot but feel how much there
is likeable among the French in spite of their follies. I talk
to them a good deal, and it is almost always about tbeir homes
and their families, especially their mothers. Sometimes it is
their sweethearts or their sisters. With mobiles and linesmen
it is just the same.
" Sometimes I write letters for them — such simple, touch-
ing letters as they are. It is difficult not to cry as they
dictate, what are in many cases, last farewells. They always
want those at home to know that they have died doing their
duty, but beyond that they don't say much of themselves.
It is of those to whom they are writing that they think.
They tell them to cheer up. They bid younger brothers take
their place. Besides the letters, which will be photographed
and sent off by pigeon post, I have a pile of little packets
to be despatched when Paris is open — locks of hair, photo-
graphs, Bibles, and keepsakes of all kinds/'
"I think, at anyrate, Mary, you have at present dis-
covered one branch at least of woman's mission upon which
we cannot quarrel. We grant not only your equality, but
your superiority to us as nurses."
Mary Brander smiled faintly, but ignored the opening for
argument.
"Some of them are dreadfully wounded," she went on,
her thoughts reverting to the hospital. " It is terrible to think
that when the great battle everyone seems looking forward
to takes place, there may be thousands of wounded to be
cared for. When do you think it will be 1 "
" Soon ; of course, no one can say when, but I don't see
anything to gain from waiting longer. The mobiles are as
good as they are likely to be made. One can't call the line
disciplined according to the English ideas of discipline, but
they are better than they were, and, at anyrate, all are
anxious for something to be done."
" Do you think they will get through 1 w
He shook his head.
" If they could fall suddenly upon the Germans they might
do so, but it is no easy matter to move large bodies of men
quickly, and to be successful they ought to be able to hurl
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 111
themselves against the Germans before they have time to
concentrate. 1 have no doubt, whichever side we issue out
on, we shall get on fairly enough as long as we have the
assistance of the guns of the forts, but beyond that I don't
think we shall get. The Germans must by this time know
the country vastly better than we do. They are immensely
better trained in making extensive movements. They have
excellent generals, and good officers. I fancy it will be the
same thing that it has been before. We shall make an
advance, we shall push the enemy back for a bit, we shall
occupy positions, and the next day the Germans will retake
them. We have no method, and no commissariat. Even now
bodies of troops are outside the walls frequently four-and-
twenty hours without food. In the confusion consequent on '
a battle matters will be ten times worse. In the morning
the troops will be half starved and half frozen, and there
will be very little fight left in them."
"What would you do if you were commander-in-chief,
Cuthbertr
"I am altogether unfit to make a plan, and still more
unfit to carry it out," he said, " but my idea would certainly
be to attack somewhere with half my force to force the enemy
back, and to hold positions at the end of the day so that the
Germans would concentrate to attack in the morning. At
night I would withdraw the greater portion of them, march
them straight across Paris ; the other half of the army would
attack there at daybreak, and would be reinforced soon after
the fighting began by those who had fought the day before.
I think in that way they ought to be able to cut their
way out, but what they would do when they once get out
is more than I can tell you. They have no cavalry to speak
of, while the Germans have a splendid cavalry force who
would harass them continually. The infantry would pursue,
and would march infinitely better than we should do. We
should scatter to get food, whole regiments would break
up and become masses of fugitives, and finally we should
be surrounded, either cut to pieces or forced to surrender.
Of two things I am not sure that it would not be best
for us to be handsomely thrashed on the first day of our
sortie."
" You take a very gloomy view of things," she said, almost
angrily.
" Why, I should have thought you would be pleased. I
am prophesying success for your friends, the Germans,"
112 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"I don't know why you should always insist that they are
my friends. I was of opinion that they were right at first,
and am so still, but I think they now are behaving hardly and
cruelly; at least I think Bismarck is. It was heartless for
him to insist, as a condition of the armistice, that Paris should
not be re-victualled while it lasted. Of course they could not
agree to that, though they would have agreed to anything like
fair conditions. Everyone really wanted peace, and if the
Germans hadn't insisted on those terms, peace would have
been made. So things have changed altogether, and it is clear
that not the Germans, but their leaders, want to injure and
humiliate France to the utmost. They were not content with
their pound of flesh, but they want to destroy France alto-
gether. I despised these people at first, but I don't despise
them now. At least they are wonderfully patient, and though
they know what they will have to suffer when everything
is eaten up, no one has said a word in favour of surrender
since Bismarck showed how determined he was to humiliate
them."
" I think I shall win my bet after all, Mary."
"I am not so sure as I was that you won't. I didn't
think I could ever have eaten horse-flesb, but it is really not
so bad. Monsieur Michaud told us yesterday that he dined
out with some friends and had had both cat and rat. Of
course they were disguised with sauces, but the people made
no secret of what they were, and he said they were really
very nice. I don't think I could try them, but I don't feel as
certain as I did ; anyhow, we haven't begun to touch our
stores, and there is no talk of confiscating everything yet."
CHAPTER XI
Two men were sitting in a cabaret near the Halles. One was
dressed in the uniform of a sergeant of the National Guard.
He was a powerfully-built man with a black beard and a
moustache, and a rough crop of hair that stuck out aggres-
sively beneath his kepi. The other was some fifteen years
younger ; beyond the cap he wore no military uniform. He
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 113
had a moustache only and was a good-looking young fellow of
the (mvrier class.
"I tell you it is too bad, Pere Dufaure. A year ago
she pretended she liked me, and the fact that she wore good
dresses and was earning lots of money did not seem to make
any difference in her. But now all that is changed. That
foreigner has turned her head. She thinks now she is going
to be a lady, and has thrown me over as if 1 were dirt,
but I won't have it," and he struck his fist upon the table ;
"those cursed aristocrats are not to have everything their
own way."
" Patience, Jean. Women will be women, and the right
way to win her back is to have patience and wait. I don't
say that just at present her head is not turned with this
American, who, by the way, is a good Republican, and though
he has money, has good notions, and holds with us that we
have too long been ground down by the bourgeois, still she
may tire of him after a while. He is not amusing, this
American, and though Minette may like being adored she
likes being amused also. Pooh, pooh, this matter will come
all right. Besides, although she likes the American at pre-
sent, she thinks more of the Commune than of any lover.
Have patience and do not quarrel with her. You know that
1 am on your side. But Minette is a good deal like what
her mother was. Ah ! these women. A man can do nothing
with them when they make up their minds to have their own
way. What can I say to her ? 1 cannot threaten to turn
her out of the house for everything in it is hers. It is she
who earns the money. She is too old to be beaten, and if it
comes to scolding, her tongue runs faster than mine does, and
you know besides she has a temper."
Jean nodded.
" She is worse than a wild cat when her back is up," he
said. " Why, when this thing first began, and I told her to
beware how she went on with this American, for that I would
kill him if he came in my way, she caught up a knife, and if I
had not run like a rabbit she would have stuck me, and you.
know how she went on, and drove me out of Montmartre.
After that affair I have not dared see her since. Why not let
her go, and take to someone else, Jean ? There are plenty of
pretty girls in the quarter, who would not say no to the nest
rising worker in his trade."
" It is no use, Pere Dufaure. I have told myself the same
a hundred times, but I cannot do it. She has her tempers,
114 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
what woman has not ; but at other times who is so bright and
gay as she is?"
" Well, well, Jean, we shall see what we shall see. You
don't suppose that if things do not turn out well, as we hope
they will do, I should let her carry out this whim of hers, and
go off with the American and leave me to shift for myself ?
Not such a fool. At present I say nothing. It is always
better to hold your tongue as long as you can. I make him
welcome when he comes to our house ; we go together to the
meetings, and sometimes he speaks, and speaks well, though
he does not go far enough for us. Well, no onu can say what
may happen — he may be shot by the Germans, or he may be
shot at the barricades, who knows 1 At anyrate it is best to
hold my peace. If I leave things alone Minette is as likely
as not to change her mind again, but if I were to say anything
against him — first, we should have a scene ; secondly, she
would be more than ever determined on this whim. You
must be patient, Jean, and all will come well in the end.' 9
" I am not so sure of that," Jean said sullenly. " I was
as patient as I could be, but no good came of it ; then, as you
know, I tried to get rid of him, but failed, and had to move
away, but one thing is certain, if I don't marry her he never
shall. However, I can wait."
" That is all right, Jean ; wait till our little affairs come
off and the bourgeois are under our feet. There will be good
posts for true citizens then, and I will see that you have one,
and it will be time to talk about marriages when everything
is going on well. When we once get the Germans out of the
way we shall see what we shall see. Sapristie ! we will make
short work of the capitalists, and as for the troops, they will
have had enough fighting, and will be ready enough to march
off and leave us alone."
At the time they were talking, the couple they were
speaking of were standing leaning on the parapet of the wall
by the river. They met there every evening when there was
no assembly of importance to attend.
" I wish it was all over, Minette," he said, " and that we
could leave the city and be off. It would be a different life
for you, dear, but, I hope, a pleasanter one. There would be
no cold weather like this, but you can sit all the year round in
the verandah without needing a wrap. There will be servants
to wait on you, and carriages, and everything you can wish
for, and, when you are disposed, there will be society, and as
all of our friends speak French you will soon be quite at home
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 115
'with them. And, what one thinks of a good deal at present,
there will be fruits and flowers, and plenty to eat, and no
sound of cannon, and no talk of wars. We fought out our
war ten years ago."
" It sounds nice, Arnold, very nice, but it will be strange
not to work."
" You won't want to work there," he said ; " in the day it
is so hot that you will be glad to sit indoors in a darkened
room and do nothing. I shall paint a good deal, and, when
you have the fancy, you can sit as my model again."
" And is it a large city, Arnold ? It seems to me now that
I could not live in the country, I should soon get dreadfully
tired of it."
"It is a large city," he said, " though, of course, not so
large as Paris. There are theatres there, and amusements of
all sorts."
" I should be content with you, Arnold. It does not seem
to me that I could want anything else. But, after all this
excitement, it will seem strange to have nothing to do."
" I shall be glad to be out of it," he said. " Your father
•and the others are quite right — the rich have too much and
the poor too little. The manufacturers gain fortunes, and
the men whose work enriches them remain poor all their
lives. Still, I fear that they will go too far, and that
troubles me."
She made a quick movement, as if about to speak, but
ohecked herself for a moment, and then said quietly, —
" You know the proverb, Arnold, ' One cannot make an
omelette without breaking eggs.' "
" That is true," he said, " as to an omelette, but a change
of Government can be carried out without costing life, that is,
unless there is resistance, and I hope there will be none here.
The incapables over there will slink away. Why, Flourens
and a few hundred men were enough to snatch the Govern-
ment out of their feeble hands. If the people declare that
they will govern themselves who is to withstand them ? I
hope to see the triumph and then to go. You know I am not
a coward, Minette. Our corps have shown that they can fight ;
but I long for my quiet home again, with its gardens and
flowers, and balmy air, and I like handling a paint-brush much
better than a rifle, and, above all, to see you mistress of my
home, but I know there is a good deal to go through first.
Trochu's plans may be carried out any day."
" Ah, those Prussians ! " she exclaimed, in a tone of the
116 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
deepest hate, with a gesture of defiance towards Versailles.
"They will dare to fire at you."
" Yes, I imagine they will do that," Minette, he said, with
a laugh, " and pretty hotly too."
"Well, if they kill you," she said passionately, "I will
avenge you. I will go out through the outposts an d will find
my way to Versailles, and I will kill William or Bismarck.
They may kill me afterwards; I care nothing for that.
Charlotte Corday was a reactionist, but she slew Mare't, and oJ
died calmly and bravely. I could do as much, and would, to-
revenge you."
" I hope you would not attempt anything so mad, Minette.
Of course I must take my chance, as everyone else will do, and
the Prussians will be no more to blame if one of their bullets
killed me than if it had struck anyone else. Everyone who
goes into a battle has to run his chances. I had an elder
brother killed in the civil war we had in the States. I have
no great love for the North, but I do not blame them especially
for the death of my brother. There were a great number killed
on both sides, and that he should be among them was the
fortune of war. But it is bitterly cold, Minette ; let us be
walking. I am glad we are not on outpost duty to-night. I
put on so many flannel shirts that I can hardly button my
tunic over them, but, in spite of that, it is cold work standing
with one's hands on one's trigger looking out into the dark-
ness. It is quite a relief when a rifle rings out either from
our side or the other. Then for a bit everyone is alive and
active. We think the Prussians are advancing, and they think
we are, and we both blaze away merrily for a bit. Then there
is a lull again, and perhaps an hour or two of dreary waiting
till there is a fresh alarm. As soon as we are relieved we
hurry off to our quarter, where there is sure to be a fire blazing.
Then we heat up the coffee in our canteens, pouring in a little
spirits, and are soon warm again."
"I cannot see why- they don't form corps of women,
Arnold ; we have just as much at stake as the men have, and
I am sure we should be quite as brave as the most of them —
a great deal braver than the National Guard."
" I have no doubt you would, dear, but it will be quite
time for you to fight when all the men are used up. What the
women ought to do is to drive the men outside the walls. If
the women were to arm themselves with mops soaked in dirty
water, and were to attack every man under forty they found
lurking in the streets, they would soon make a change in things.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 117
You should begin in your own quarter first, for although they
are always denouncing the bourgeois for not fighting, I cannot
see that there is any more eagerness to go out at Montmartre
than there is in the quarter of the bank — in fact, a great deal
less."
" Why should the ouvriers fight with the Germans, Arnold ?
To tbem it matters little whether Paris is taken by the
Germans or not ; it is not they whose houses will be sacked,
it is not they who will have to pay the indemnity."
"No, but at least they are Frenchmen. They can talk
•enough about the honour of France, but it is little they do to
preserve it. They shout, * The Prussians must be destroyed/
And then go off quietly to their cabaries to smoke and drink.
I do not admire tjhe bourgeois, but I do not see anything
more admirable among the ouvriers. They talk grandly but
they do nothing. There is no difficulty in getting volunteers
for the war companies among the National Guard of the
centre, though to them the extra pay is nothing; but at
Belleville and Montmartre the war companies don't fill up.
They rail at the bourgeois, but when it comes to fighting out-
side the walls I will wager that the shopkeepers show the
most courage."
" They will fight when there is anything to fight for," she
said confidently, " but they don't care to waste their time on
the walls when there is nothing to do, and the Germans are
miles away."
"Well, we shall see," he replied grimly. "Anyhow, I
wish it were all over, and that we were on our way home.
You have never seen a ship yet, Minette. You will be aston-
ished when you go on board one of the great liners," and as
they walked along the Boulevards he told her of the floating
palaces, in one of which they were to cross the ocean, and for-
getting for a time the questions that absorbed her, she listened
with the interest of a child hearing a fairy tale. When they
neared Montmartre they separated, for Minette would never
walk with him in her own quarter.
The next morning, November 28th, the order was issued
that the gates were to be closed and that no one was to be
allowed to pass out under any pretext whatever. No one
doubted that the long-expected sally was to be carried out.
Bodies of troops marched through the streets, trains of waggons
with munitions of war moved in the same direction, and in an
hour all Paris knew that the sortie was to take place some-
where across the loop formed by the Marne.
118 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"It is for to-morrow," Pierre Leroux exclaimed, running-
into Cuthbert's room; "we are to parade at daybreak, the
gates are shut, and troops are moving about everywhere."
" All right, Pierre ; we have been looking for it for so long,
that it comes almost as a surprise at last."
Outhbert got up, made himself a cup of coffee, drank it
with a piece of dry bread, and then sallied out. Mary would
be on duty at ten o'clock. He knew the way she took on her
way to the hospital, and should meet her. In half an hour he
saw the trim figure in the dark dress, and the white band
round the arm.
" I suppose you have beard that we are going to stir up the
German nest to-morrow," he said gaily.
" Yes, I have heard," she said sadly ; " it is very dreadful."
" It is what we have been waiting for and longing for for
the last two months. We are to be under arms at daybreak,
and as you will be at the ambulance for the next twenty-four
hours, I thought I would make an effort to catch you on the-
way. I want you to come round to my lodgings."
She looked surprised.
" Of course I will come," she said frankly ; " but what do-
you want me to do that for ? "
" Well, there is no saying as to who will come back again
to-morrow, Mary, and I want you to see my two pictures. I
have been working at them for the last two months steadily.
They are not quite finished yet, but another week would have
been enough for the finishing touches ; but I don't suppose you
will miss them. Nobody has seen them yet, and nobody would
have seen them till they were quite ready ; but, as it is pos-
sible they never may be finished, I should like you to see them
now. I am not taking you up under any false pretences," he
said lightly, "nor to try again to get you to change your
mission. I only want you to see that I have been working
honestly. I could see, when I have spoken of my painting,,
there was always a little incredulity in the way in which you
listened to me. You had so completely made up your mind
that I should never be earnest about anything, that you could
not bring yourself to believe that I wasn't amusing myself
with Art here, just as I did in London. I had intended to
have brought them triumphantly in a fiacre to your place
when they were finished, and I can't deny myself the pleasure
of disabusing your mind. It is not far out of your way, and,
if we walk fast, you can still arrive at your ambulance in
time. If there were any fiacres about, I would call one, but
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 119
they have quite disappeared — in the first place, because no
one is rich enough to be able to pay for such luxuries, and, in
the second, because most of the horses have been turned to
other uses."
She did not seem to pay very much attention to what he
was saying, but broke in with the question, —
" Do you think there will be much fighting) n
" It would be folly to try to persuade you that there won't,*
he said. " When there are so many thousand men with guns
and cannon who are determined to get out of a place, and an
equal number of men with guns and cannon just as deter
mined to keep them in, the chances are that, as the Irish say,
there will be wigs on the green. I do not suppose the loss
will be great in comparison to the number engaged, because
certainly a good many of the French will reconsider their de-
termination to get out, and will be seized with a burning
desire to get back as soon as the German shells begin to fall
among them. Still, I do hope that they will make a decent
fight of it. I know there are some tremendously strong
batteries on the ground enclosed by the loop of the Marne,
which is where they say it is going to be, and the forts will
be able to help, so that certainly for a time we shall fight with
great advantages. I do wish that it was not so cold ; fighting
is bad enough in summer, but the possibility of lying out all
night on the snow, wounded, is one I very strongly object
to."
He continued to talk in the same light strain until they
reached his lodgings, in order to put the girl at her ease.
" So this is your sitting-room/' she said, with a laugh that
had a tremor in it. " It is just what I supposed it would be
— very untidy, very dusty, and yet, in its way, comfortable.
Where are the pictures ? "
" Behind that screen ; I keep them in strict seclusion there.
Now, if you will sit down by the window, I will bring the
easels out."
She did as he told her. The pictures were covered when
he brought them out. He placed them where the light would
fall best on them, and then removed the cloths.
" They have not arrived at the glories of frames yet," he
said, " but you must make allowances for that. I can assure
you they will look much larger and more important when they
are in their settings."
The girl sat for a minute without speaking. They were
reproductions, on a larger scale and with all the improvements
120 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
that his added skill and experience could introduce, of the two
he had exhibited to M. Goude* when he entered the studio.
" I had intended to do battle-pieces," he said, " and have
made innumerable sketches, but somehow or other the inspira-
tion did not come in that direction, so I fell back on these,
which are taken from smaller ones I painted before I left
London. Do you like them? You see I hang upon your
verdict. You at present represent the public to me."
There were tears standing in the girl's eyes.
" They are beautiful," she said softly, " very beautiful. I
am not a judge of painting, though I have been a good deal in
the galleries of Dresden, and I was at Munich too ; and I know
enough to see they are painted by a real artist. I like the
bright one best ; the other almost frightens me, it is so sad
and hopeless. I think — " and she hesitated, " that girl in the
verandah is something like me, though I am sure I never look
a bit like that, and I am nothing — nothing like so pretty."
"You never look like that, Miss Brander, because you
have never felt as that girl is supposed to be feeling. Some
day, when the time comes that you feel as she does, you will
look so. That is a woman — a woman who loves. At present
that side of your nature has not woke up. The intellectual
side of you, if I may so speak, has been forced, and your soul
is still asleep. Some day you will admit that the portrait —
for I own it to be a portrait — is a life-like one. Now," he
broke off abruptly, " we had better be going or you will be
late at your post."
She said no more until they were in the street.
" I have been very wrong," she said suddenly, after walk-
ing for some time in silence. " You must have worked hard
indeed. I own I never thought that you would. I used to
consider your sketches very pretty, but I never thought that
you would come to be a great artist."
" I have not come to that yet," he said ; " but I do hope
that I may come to be a fair one some day — that is, if the
Germans don't forcibly interfere. But I have worked very
hard, and I may tell you that Goude\ who is one of the best
judges in Paris, thinks well of me. I will ask you to take
care of this," he said, and he took out a blank envelope.
" This is my will. A man is a fool who goes into a battle
without making provision for what may happen. When I re-
turn, you can hand it to me again. If I should not come
back, please enclose it to your father. He will see that its
provisions are carried out. I may say that I have left you
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 121
the two pictures. You have a right to them, for if it had not
been for you, I don't suppose they would ever have been
painted. I only wish that they had been quite finished."
Mary took the paper without a word, nor did she speak
again until they arrived at the ambulance, then she turned
and laid her hand in his.
" Good-bye, Mary, I hope I shall ask you for that envelope
back again in a couple of days."
" God grant that it may be so/' she said ; " I shall suffer
so till you do."
"Yes, we have always been good friends, haven't we?
Now, child, you always used to give me a kiss before I left
you then. Mayn't I have one now."
She held up her face, he kissed her twice, and then turned
and strode away.
" I wonder whether she will ever grow to be a woman,"
he said to himself bitterly, " and discover that there is a heart
as well as brains in her composition. There was no more of
doubt or hesitation in the way in which she held up her face
to be kissed, than when she did so as a child. Indeed, as a
child, I do think she would have cried if I told her at parting
that I was going away for good. Well, it is of no use
blaming her. She can't help it if she is deficient in the one
quality that is of all the most important. Of course she has
got it and will know it some day, but, at present, it is latent,
•and it is evident that I am not the man who has the key of
it. She was pleased at my pictures. It was one of her ideas
that I ought to do something, and she is pleased to find
that I have buckled to work in earnest, just as she would be
pleased if Parliament would pass a law giving to women some
of the rights which she has taken it into her head they are
deprived of. However, perhaps it is better as it is. If any-
thing happens to me to-morrow, she will be sorry for a week
or two, just as she would if she lost any other friend, while if
Arnold Dampierre goes down Minette will for a time be like
a mad woman. At anyrate, my five thousand will help her
to carry out her crusade. I should imagine that she won't
get much aid in that direction from her father."
" Halloa, I know that man's face," he broke off as he
noticed a well - dressed man turn in at the door of a quiet-
looking residence he was just approaching, " I know his face
well; he is an Englishman, too, but I can't think where I
have seen it." He could not have told himself why he should
have given the question a second thought, but the face
122 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
kept haunting him in spite of the graver matters in his mind,
and as he reached the door of his lodgings he stopped
suddenly.
" I have it," he exclaimed ; " it is dimming, the manager
of the bank, the fellow that ruined it and then absconded. I
saw they were looking for him in Spain and South America,
and a dozen other places, and here be is. By Jove, he is a
clever fellow. I suppose he came here as soon as the war
broke out, knowing very well that the police would have
plenty of other things to think of besides inquiring as to the
antecedents of Englishmen who took up their residence here.
Of course he has been absolutely safe since the fall of the
Empire. The fellow has grown a beard and moustache ; that
is why I did not recognise him at first. Of course he has taken
another name. Well, I don't know that it is any business
of mine. He got off with some money, but I don't suppose it
was any great sum. At anyrate, it would not be enough to
make any material difference to the creditors of the bank.
However, I will think it over later on. There is no hurry
about the matter. He is here till the siege is over, and I
should certainly like to have a talk with him. I have
never been able to get it quite out of my mind that there has
been something mysterious about the whole affair as far as my
father is concerned, though where the mystery comes in is
more than I can imagine. I expect it is simply because I
have never liked Brander, and have always had a strong
idea that our popular townsman was at bottom a knave as
well as a humbug."
Mary Brander went about her work very quietly all day,
and more than one of the wounded patients remarked the
change in her manner.
" Mademoiselle is suffering to-day," one of them said to her
as he missed the ring of hopefulness and cheeriness with which
she generally spoke to him.
" I am not feeling well, I have a bad headache ; and more-
over, I have friends in the sortie that is to be made to-night."
" Ah, yes, mademoiselle, there must be many sad hearts
in Paris. As for me, my spirits have risen since I heard it.
At last we are going to begin in earnest, and it is time. I
only wish I could have been well enough to have taken my
share in it. It is tiresome to think that I have been wounded
in a trifling skirmish. I should not have minded if it had
been to-morrow, so that when I am an old man I might tell
my grandchildren that I got that scar on the day when we
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 123
drove the Prussians from the front of Paris. That would
have been something to say. Courage, mademoiselle; after
all, there are twenty who get through these things safely to
every one that is hit, and your friends will be covered with
glory."
" I hope that it will be as you think," she said, " but it
may be the other way, and that the sortie will fail"
" You must not think that," he said. " We have not had
a fair chance before, now we have got one. But even should
we not win the first time, we will the second or the third.
What, are Frenchmen always to be beaten by these Prussians ?
They have beaten us of late because we have been badly led ;
but there must come another Jena to us one of these days."
Mary nodded, and then passed on to the next patient. In
the evening the news came that things were not all in readi-
ness, and that the sortie was deferred at least for twenty-four
hours.
" You are not well, Miss Brander," the chief surgeon of the
hospital said to her soon afterwards. " I have noticed all day
that you have been looking fagged and worn out. As it is
certain now that we shall have no unusual pressure upon our
resources for another thirty-six hours at anyrate, I think you
had better go home."
" I have a bad headache," she said.
" Yes, I can see that, and your hand is as cold as ice. Go
home, child, and have a long night's rest. This sort of work
is very trying until one gets hardened to it. Fortunately, I
have no lack of assistance. If you do not feel better to-morrow
morning, take another twenty-four hours off duty. You are
likely to want all your strength and nerve on Monday, if
this affair comes off in earnest, which, I own, I am inclined to
doubt, for, so far, there has been no shadow of earnestness
about anything since the siege began."
CHAPTER XII
The Franc Tireurs des £coles had marched out beyond the
walls when the order came that the affair was postponed, and
124 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
that they would not be required till the following day, when
they were to parade at daybreak. There was much indigna-
tion at the change, and all sorts of causes were suggested for
it. One rumour was to the effect that the pontoon bridges
for crossing the river were of insufficient length. Others said
that the train of provisions that was to accompany the force
after it had cut its way through the Prussians was not ready.
One rumour was to the effect that the Prussians had been
apprised by spies of Trochu's intentions, and had massed
heavy bodies of men at the threatened point. The most
generally received opinion was that Trochu's object had been
only to make a demonstration on this side of Paris, with the
object of deceiving the Prussians and inducing them td weaken
their lines at other points, and that the real attack would be
made in another direction altogether.
" It is a nuisance whichever way it is," Cuthbert said as,
after the corps was dismissed, he walked back with a group of
his friends; " it is a mistake too. We had all got ourselves up
to boiling heat, and had made up our minds to go through
with it, and this delay is like a dash of cold water. Of course,
it is the same with the rest of the force. One hates being
humbugged, and it makes one doubt whether our generals
know their business. Well, there is one thing, the delay
won't be a long one ; it is eight o'clock now, and as we must
be up by six I shall turn in at once and get a good sleep. Be
sure and don't forget your flasks in the morning. The weather
gets colder and colder."
The next morning, however, the men were again dismissed
after parade, and told they were to fall in again at day-
break next day. There was a feeling of restlessness and dis-
quiet throughout Paris. The town was placarded with pro-
clamations of Trochu and Ducrot. The latter was a sort of
valedictory letter to Paris,, saying that he was going out to
conquer or to die, and that if defeated he would never return
to Paris alive. It was evident by their tone that at the time
the proclamations were penned it was intended that the battle
should take place on that day, and that the delay was conse-
quent upon a breakdown in the arrangements, and was not the
result of any fixed plan.
Paris for once was serious. Special services were held in
all the churches, and these were thronged by citizens and
soldiers. Cuthbert went to the building where a few of the
English residents attended service throughout the siege. Mary
Brander was not present, but as she had said the day before
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 125
that she would be on duty for twenty-four hours he had not
expected to see her.
In the afternoon he went to a restaurant and dined fairly
well, indulging himself in all the luxuries obtainable, and then
returned and spent the evening with Hen6 and Pierre. The
next morning when he dressed himself for parade he took the
precaution of putting on as many articles of underclothing as
be could button his tunic over. This time there was no mis-
take in the orders, as not a few of those who fell in had hoped
in their hearts might be the case. As soon as the corps was
formed up and their arms and ammunition pouches examined,
the word was given and they marched away towards the gate of
Cbarenton and issued out. Many bodies of troops were con-
verging upon it and the other gates on that side of the city
with train 8 of ammunition and supply waggons, and there was
a delay of an hour before they could pass out. The greater
part of the force had left the city on the two previous days,
and a hundred thousand men under Ducrot were massed in
the Bois de Vincennes and between that point and the neck of
the loop formed by the Marne.
The Franc Tireurs were halted near Charenton, and learn-
ing that the attack would not take place till night, the Colonel
took possession of an empty barn near the village. The men
piled their arms outside and made themselves as comfortable as
they could. Now that there was no longer any doubt that an
engagement would take place in a few hours, the natural light-
headedness of the students revived. All had brought with
them a good store of provisions in their haversacks, and each
man carried a thick blanket besides his military cloak. Many
of them had in addition to their flasks slipped a bottle of wine
into their haversacks, and a meal was joyously partaken of,
after which pipes were lighted, and with their blankets wrapt
round their legs, all were inclined to agree that campaigning,
even in winter, bad its pleasures.
"We are a deal better off than most of the troops,"
Cuthbert said to Arnold Dampierre; "it must be bitter in
the snow out in the woods, and it will be worse when it gets
dark."
" It is better for all than it was for our fellows in the
south," Dampierre said. " We have warm clothes and plenty
to eat. They were in rags, and often well-nigh starving."
" Yes, that must have been a very rough business. It is a
great advantage that we are Franc Tireurs, and therefore free,
to a great extent, to follow our own devices. I beard the
126 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
Colonel say that when he had applied for orders he was told
that none would be given to detached corps like his, but that
now, as at other times, they must make themselves useful
when they saw an opportunity. The line are to cross first,
then the mobile, and then the active battalions of the National
Guards. If I judge the Colonel rightly, he will manage to
put us somewhere in front. We stand well after that affair
at Bourget, so I have no doubt he will get us across one of
the bridges as soon as the line are over."
Soon after four o'clock it began to get dusk.
The Colonel, who had been away endeavouring to find out
what was the general plan of operations, returned soon after.
The officers gathered round him.
" Pontoon bridges will be thrown across the river on both
sides of the loop. The Pontinniers will set to work on them
when it is dark. I fancy the real attack will be through
Champigny, and that on the other side will be more of the
nature of a false alarm ; so we will go with the main force.
There are some strong batteries erected in the loop which will
prepare the way for us and a big train of field-guns. The
troops will begin to cross at early daylight, so we can't do
better than remain where we are until five o'clock. Then we
will go and take our place near one of the bridges and slip
across as soon as we see an opportunity. With such a mass
of troops to move, there are sure to be delays in bringing the
regiments up, and the first that occurs we will slip in and get
over. The men may as well lie down at once and get a good
night."
It needed somewhat close packing for the men to rest
themselves, but the crowding was more than counter-balanced
by the warmth, and it was not long before all were asleep.
At one o'clock in the morning they were awakened by a
tremendous cannonade. All the forts round Paris had
suddenly opened fire upon the German positions. Believing
that the enemy must have obtained a knowledge of the
approaching sortie, and were anticipating it by assaulting the
forts, the Colonel ordered the men to stand to their arms.
In an hour the firing ceased and all was quiet again. The
men, with a little grumbling at being taken out and chilled
in the night air, returned to the barn. At four o'clock they
were again aroused by the fire being resumed.
" We may as well be off, lads," the Colonel said ; " we have
some distance to march, and it is not worth while to turn in
again."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 127
Between the reports of the guns a dull, rumbling sound
could be heard.
" The artillery and train are on the move," Cuthbert said
to Ren6, who was next to him in the ranks, "so we shall not
be too soon if we are to take our share in the early part of
the fighting."
They left the main road and followed the fields, as many of
them were well acquainted with the country, and they had no
difficulty in keeping in the right direction. The men marched
at ease, each picking his way as best he could across the
ground, which was broken up into small enclosures and
gardens. They halted outside a village on the banks of the
Marne, where one of the pontoon bridges had been thrown
across. Here they piled arms and endeavoured to keep
themselves warm by stamping their feet and swinging their
•arm 8.
Soon after morning dawned heavy firing broke out suddenly
behind them. The Colonel had learned at Charenton that
General Yinoy, with fifteen thousand men, was to advance from
between the southern forts and to attack Ville Juif and the
heights of Mealy, so as to induce a concentration of the enemy
in that direction, and so to diminish the difficulties of the
main advance.
For a time there was a sound of cannon only, then came
a crackle of musketry, telling that the advance had begun.
The battery on the commanding position of St Maur opened
in earnest, and was aided by several batteries of field artillery,
the din being now incessant. Gradually the rattle of musketry
became fainter, showing that the French were driving the
enemy back, and a mounted officer riding past told them that
Montmesly was taken. The news raised the spirits of the
soldiers to the highest point, and their impatience was be-
coming almost uncontrollable when the order arrived for them
to advance, and the troops at once began to cross the six
pontoon bridges that had been thrown at different points
across the Marne.
" There is no hurry, mes braves," the Colonel said, as the
Franc Tireurs stamped with impatience as they saw the columns
crossing the river, while they remained in enforced inactivity.
" At first the troops will carry all before them as Yinoy's men
have done. The fighting will only commence in earnest when
the Prussians bring up their supports. We shall be in time
for that, never fear. We ought to have begun at daybreak,"
he growled, in a low voice, to the Major ; " four precious hours
128 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
have been wasted. £7 this time we ought to have gained at
least three or four miles of ground ; in that case we might
have been through the Prussian lines before sunset. Every
hour in these short days is of importance."
Presently the roll of musketry showed that the French
skirmishers were engaged with the German outposts. The-
Franc Tireurs had by this time moved down close to the
bridge ; but it was not until midday that they were able to
cross. Then the Colonel, taking advantage of a short delay on
the part of one of the regiments to come up to the bridge,,
pushed the men across, and, leaving the road, took them
forward at the double. By this time the roar of battle was
unbroken. The batteries along the heights behind them, the
forts, and the field-guns in advance were all hard at work ;
the shell flying over the heads of the advancing troops and
bursting in the villages held by the Germans. In front, the
rattle of musketry was deafening. Champigny, they learned
from a wounded soldier who was making his way to the rear,
had been carried, and the troops there had pushed some dis-
tance forward, but on the left, Villiers la Desert was found to-
be too strongly fortified to be taken. The French batteries,
were, however, raining shell upon it.
As the Franc Tireurs approached Champigny they saw
that the place had not been taken without a severe struggle.
The bodies of French soldiers strewed the ground thickly, and,
as they passed through the streets, the Saxon uniforms were
mingled with those of their assailants. The corps pushed for-
ward until they ascended the low hills behind the village.
Here they found the French troops halted. It was evident
Ducrot did not intend to advance further until joined by the
whole of his command.
" This is pure madness," the Colonel said ; " by to-morrow
we shall have fifty thousand Germans in front of us. If
Ducrot hasn't got his whole force, and his train and ambulance
up, he might, at least, carry Villiers by assault. Of course, it
could not be done without loss, but what have we come out
for but to fight. We cannot advance as long as they hold
that place, for when their supports come up, as you may be
sure they will do ere long, they can pour out from there and
take us in the rear. However, we may as well go forward to-
the skirmishing line. We will work down by the right. If
the German supports come up they are likely to advance that
way, and as I hear no firing in that quarter we may find some*
spot unoccupied by the line."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 129
The order was given and the corps marched off, and pre-
sently took up their position between the river and the French
regiment forming the extreme right flank of the advance. In
extended order, and taking advantage of every inequality of
the ground, they pushed on, and after advancing a quarter of
a mile were brought to a standstill by a sudden outbreak of
musketry fire at various points along the crest of a slight rise
some six hundred yards in front of them. Taking cover be-
hind a low wall running at right angles to the river, they
opened a dropping fire in return. This, however, was at once
stopped by the Colonel, who himself went along the line.
" Don't throw away a shot, lads," he said ; " you may want
every cartridge before you have done. It will be time enough
to begin when they show in force over that crest. n
There was no more for the men to do than there had been
when they were waiting for their turn to cross the bridge, but
they were satisfied now they were in the front line and within
shot of the enemy. The march had set their blood in circula-
tion, and while two or three of each company kept a keen
lookout over the top of the wall, the others laughed and joked,
after first employing themselves in knocking holes through the
wall, a few inches above the ground, so that they could He and
fire through if the enemy advanced. The musketry fire had
almost ceased away to their right, and they hoped that Yinoy
had established himself well out in that direction. Various
were the conjectures as to why the advance had ceased on
their own side. Some conjectured that Trochu's plan con-
sisted only in crossing the river and then marching back again
in order to accustom the troops to stand fire. One suggested
that the General had come out without ink or paper with
which to write bis grandiose proclamations to the Parisians,
and they were waiting until it had been fetched from his
office.
" What do you think, Henri ? " Rene* asked the lieutenant.
" I should say," he said gravely, " that when our advance
came upon the real Prussian line of defence, they found it too
strong to be carried. They must have known that they could
never hold Champigny under the fire of our guns and forts,
and used it only as an outpost. Of course it was from this
side they would think it likely that we should try to break
out, and they would certainly erect batteries to command all
the roads. They have had nothing else to do for the last ten
weeks."
" I have no doubt that is partly the reason, Henri," Cutb-
130 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
bert said, " but I think it may be principally due to the fact
that Ducrot can't get his troops across the river. Even with
a well-organised army and a good staff, and commanding
officers who all know their duty, it is a big job to get a hundred
thousand men, with artillery, ambulances and trains, across a
river. Here, with the exception of Ducrot himself and a few
of the line officers, nobody knows anything about the matter.
By what we saw, I should think there are not more than twenty
thousand men across the river, and the confusion on the other
side must be frightful. We ourselves saw that the street of
that village was absolutely choked up with waggons, and I
have no doubt all the roads are the same. Of course, they
never ought to have moved forward at all till all the troops
were over. If Trochu really meant to break out, the north is
the side where he should have tried. The whole force could
have been massed between the walls and St Denis, and have
been marched in regular order against the Prussians, with the
field batteries at intervals, and the trains following at a proper
distance on the various lines of roads."
" I hope that is his plan still, and that this attack from
the south is only a feint to draw as many of the Germans as
possible over to this side. We have a tremendous advantage
in having this short line to march across. If Trochu were to
send the train off at once, while we re-crossed and followed as
soon as it was dark, the whole army might be outside the
northern wall before morning. To-morrow we might get into
position for attack, make all the arrangements, and advance
far enough to dash forward at their lines as soon as it is light
next day, and, with Ducrot's and Vinoy's force united, we
ought to go right through them. We should have one hundred
and fifteen thousand men, and I don't suppose they could oy>-
pose us with a third of that number. However strong their
positions, we ought to be able, to carry them if we went at
them with a rush. Besides, we should have the guns at the
northern forts to help us. At anyrate, after this delay here,
I consider the idea of any further advance in this direction to
be out of the question. By to-morrow morning they may have
a hundred thousand men facing us, and if we don't re-cross
to-night, we may find it very difficult business to do so to-
morrow."
u We have got the batteries and forts to cover us," Henri
Vancour said. "The Germans could never advance against
us in force under their fire."
" I hope we are going to cross this evening if we are going
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 131
to cross at all," Pierre Leroux said. "It is cold enough
now, but if we are going to pass the night here it will be
bitter."
" There are those houses by the river. We are a good deal
nearer to them than any other troops," Arnold Dampierre said.
4t They will hold us if we pack in pretty closely."
As the afternoon wore on, the Colonel sent two officers to
inspect the houses, which were all found to be empty. As
soon as he received the report, be sent twenty men off with
orders to cut down hedges and form faggots, and then to light
fires in each room. There was no further movement. A
heavy musketry fire was kept up far away to the left, and the
batteries occasionally fired heavily ; but all idea of movement
was evidently abandoned for the day, and the enemy were not
in sufficient force to take the offensive.
As soon as it became dark, therefore, half a company were
left on guard at the wall, and the rest of the corps marched off
to the houses. Roaring fires were blazing in every room, for
some fruit trees had been cut down and split up into logs.
The party on guard were to be relieved every two hours.
As soon as the men were bestowed in their quarters, the
Major went off to discover, if possible, what had been the
result of the fighting on the other side of the loop. It was
two hours before he returned, and the news he brought was
dispiriting.
" I have been up to Creteil," he said, " and have learnt
from the people there, who saw the whole affair, what has
happened. The advance was good. We swept the Germans
at first before us, and for a time our fellows made a stand on
the crest of Montmesly. But the enemy were reinforced, and
drove us down the hill again. Then came a disgraceful panic.
The soldiers who had fought fairly at first became a mob ; the
mobile, who had not done as well as had been expected, were
worse. There was a battalion of the National Guard of Belle-
ville, and the scoundrels ran without firing a shot. At Creteil
the men absolutely fought to get through the street. It was
disgraceful. I hear that further to the right the line did
better, and that we still hold Ville Juif and other villages well
in advance of our old position. That is all I could learn.
They say our losses have been pretty heavy; at anyrate,
Creteil is full of wounded, and the ambulances are taking
them into Paris. There is great confusion on the other side
of the river. The roads are all choked with the waggon-trains.
Nobody has got any orders, nobody knows what is going to
132 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
be done, no one knows where Ducrot or Trochu are. It is*
enough to make one tear one's hair to see such confusion and
mismanagement."
The night passed off quietly. The next day, to the sur-
prise of everyone, things remain unchanged. No effort was.
made to pass the baggage-train over the bridges. A portion
of the troops had been put under canvas tbe first evening, and,
save for the dead still lying about, the broken arms, the stains,
of blood, and the parties engaged in carrying the wounded
across the river to the ambulance waggons, and others bury-
ing the dead, the scene differed little from an ordinary en-
campment. The troops laughed and jested round the camp
fires, and occupied themselves- with their cooking. The horses
that had been killed were already but skeletons, the flesh
having been cut off for food. The advance parties had been
called in, and a barricade thrown up just beyond Champigny,
where the advance guard occasionally exchanged shots with
the Prussians a few hundred yards away. Strong parties were-
at work erecting a series of earthworks on the hill.
The Franc Tireurs fell back from the position they had held
the night before, and established themselves in a few houses,
half roofless and shattered by shell, between Champigny and
the river. Most of the houses in the long, straggling street
of Champigny bore marks of the conflict that had raged there
before the Saxons had been driven out. Fortunately, large
stores of straw were found in the village, and these added
much to the comfort of the troops, and the Franc Tireurs.
carried off a good many trusses to their quarters. Consider-
able amounts of other stores were also discovered there, and
were thoroughly appreciated by the soldiers after their re-
stricted rations.
They smoked their pipes that evening, feeling thankful
that, as they lay behind Champigny, there was no occasion for
them to turn out on outpost duty.
"They say we shall fight again to-morrow for certain,"'
Bene' said.
" I think it likely we shall, Rend, but I should be inclined
to bet ten to one that it is the Prussians who will attack.
They will have had forty-eight hours to mass their forces here,
and will be fools if they don't take advantage of the oppor-
tunity we have been good enough to give them."
Day was just breaking when a sharp rattle of musketry
broke out. The Franc Tireurs sprang to their feet. .
" I should have won my bet, Rene\ if you had taken it,"'
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 133
Cuthbert exclaimed, as he slung his cartridge-box over his
shoulder. " They are on us all along the line."
In less than a minute the rattle of musketry swelled into
a continuous roar, above which came the boom of cannon and
the explosion of shells in and around Champigny. Just as the
corps was formed up, the heavy guns in the battery of St
Maur behind them opened fire, their deep roar sounding loud
above the sharp explosion of the Prussian field-guns. As they
advanced at the double towards the village, they could see a
mob of panic-stricken men rushing from the front.
" The cowards ! the vile cowards ! " broke from the lips of
the men; and as some of the fugitives ran past them, they
saluted them with yells and cries of contempt. Fully five
thousand panic-stricken men were in wild flight, all rushing
towards the bridge.
" If I were the commander of St Maur," Rene* said, " I
would turn my guns upon these cowards. They are greater
enemies to France than are the Prussians."
" Forward, my children ! " shouted the old Colonel. " Let
us show them that there are still some Frenchmen ready to
fight and die for their country ! "
The officer in command of St Maur, and the General on
the spot, were equal to the situation. Seventy or eighty field-
pieces were massed round the redoubt, and a tremendous fire
opened upon the Prussian batteries out on the plain, while a
strong guard was sent down to the end of the bridge to bar
the way to the mob of fugitives. The Germans had alreacbC
obtained possessi g of the other end of the village when the
Franc Tireurs entered it, but a small body of troops were
standing firm. Some barricades thrown up across the street
were manned, and from these, and from every house, they re-
plied to the fire of the advancing Prussians. But the latter
were still pushing on, wresting house by house from their
hands, while a hail of shell from the German batteries fell
upon the part of the village still held by the French. As the
Franc Tireurs advanced, the Colonel ortdered one company to
wheel off on either hand to occupy he gardens behind the
houses, and so prevent the enemy from taking the defenders
in the rear. He himself pressed forward down the street to
aid the soldiers at the barricades.
The sun had by this time risen, and its light, glinting on
the Prussian helmets, showed strong bodies advancing down
the slopes into the vill age. The woods on either hand were
still held by the French, but the irregular fire showed that
134 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
they were not in strong force. The din was terrific. Three
or four of the French mitrailleuses were adding to the roar,
and sending streams of ballets into the advancing Germans.
Nerved by the desperation of the situation, and fiercely
angered at the cowardice of their countrymen, the young
artists of Cuthbert's company dashed forward, climbing walls,
bursting through hedges, burning with eagerness to meet
the foe.
The Prussian shells were bursting all round, bullets sang
above and around them, the rattle of musketry grew louder
and fiercer, but there was not a moment's check until Francois
des Valles shouted to them to halt behind a low wall. The
enemy were but a hundred yards away, pressing forward
through the gardens.
" Steady, men ; steady ! " he shouted. " lie down for a
minute to get breath, then let every other man open fire, but
don't throw away a shot. Let the others try and get some
stones out of the wall and make loopholes."
As yet they had not been seen by the Germans, and these
were but fifty yards away, in a thick line of skirmishers, when
Des Valles gave the word, and the Franc Tireurs, rising on
one knee and resting their muskets on the wall, opened a
steady fire upon them. Many fell, and, taken by surprise, the
rest ran back to a wall some thirty yards in rear, and thence
opened a heavy fire.
" lie down, lads ! " Des Valles shouted, and all set to work
to loophole the wall. " Don't show your heads above it unless
they advance again. All we have got to do is to hold our
ground."
CHAPTER XIII
By the aid of their sword-bayonets the Franc Tireurs soon
pierced the wall, and lying at full length a yard apart, replied
to the enemy's fire. Through the smoke they could just make
out the upper line of the wall, and as the Prussians stood up
to fire picked them off. Henri Vancour crept along the line,
urging the men to fire slowly.
"They will advance presently," he said. "You can tell
A WOMAN Of THE COMMUNE 135
by the fire that they are getting thicker and thicker. We
must check their rush."
Five minutes later there was a deep cheer, and a crowd of
dark figures leapt over the wall. A flash of fire ran along the
Mne of defenders, and then, as fast as the chassepots could be
reloaded, a rolling tire broke out. So heavy was it, that before
crossing a third of the intervening space the Germans wavered,
hesitated, and then ran back to their shelter.
" Bravo ! bravo ! " Des Valles shouted, springing to his
feet in his excitement, but as he spoke the enemy's fire broke
out again. " Vive la France 1 " he shouted, and then fell
heavily backwards.
His fall was noticed only by those nearest to him, for the
Franc Tireurs were all busy. The rattle of musketry in the
houses to their right showed that the French were still holding
their own.
The Germans were apparently waiting for reinforcements
before they attempted another rush against the position held
by their invisible foes. They in turn loopholed the wall
they held, and the musketry duel continued. Between the
walls were two lines of low hedges, but the leaves had fallen,
and each party could see the loopholes through which their
opponents fired. Henri Yancour, who was now in command,
ordered half the men to crawl back to the next wall, some fifty
paces in the rear, and to loophole that.
" They next time they come," he said, " they will be too
strong for us, and we must fall back." The remainder of the
men he placed near the two ends of the wall, so that as they
fell back their comrades behind could open their fire, and so
cover their retreat. It was another quarter of an hour before
the Germans made a move. Then a great body of men sprang
over the wall. Forty rifles were discharged simultaneously,
then Henri's whistle rang out. The men leapt to their feet,
and at the top of their speed ran to the wall behind them,
from which their comrades were pouring a stream of fire into
the Germans. Several fell as they ran ; the rest, on gaining the
wall, threw themselves over, and as soon as they had reloaded
joined its defenders. The Germans, however, were still press-
ing on, when they were taken in flank by a heavy fire from
the back of the houses held by the French, and they got no
farther than the wall that had just been vacated. Then the
musketry duel recommenced under the same conditions as
before. The company had already lost thirty men ; ten lay by
the wall they had defended, killed by bullets that had passed
136 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
through the loopholes; eight more were stretched on the
ground that they had just traversed. The rest had made their
way to the rear, wounded. Cuthbert had had a finger of the
left hand carried away as he was in the act of firing. He had
felt a stinging blow, but had thought little of it until he had
taken his position behind the second wall/'
" Tie my handkerchief over this, Rene*," he said ; " fortun-
ately it is only the left hand, and a finger more or less makes
little odds. Where is Dampierre, I don't see him ? "
" I am afraid he is lying under that wall there/' Rene said ;
" at anyrate, I don't see him here ; he ought to be the third
man from me. Minette will go out of her mind if he is killed."
But they had no further time for talking, and as soon as
his hand was bandaged, Cuthbert took his place at a loop-
hole.
" I think things are better," he said, after a few minutes,
to Ren&. " The shells are not falling round us as they did.
The heavy guns at St Maur must have silenced the German
batteries, and I fancy by the heavy firing from the other end
of the village that we have been re^lforced. ,,
This was indeed the case. For some time the Prussians
continued to make obstinate efforts to advance, but gradually
the number of defenders of the village increased, as the French
officers managed to rally small parties of the fugitives at the
bridge, and led them forward again, their efforts being aided
by the mounted gendarmes, who, riding anions: the soldiers,
beat them with the flat of their swords, and literally drove
them forward again.
By eleven o'clock the line of the Franc Tireurs had been
thickened by the fresh arrivals, and the roar of rifles along
the wall was continuous. The French, who had hitherto
fought silently, now began to cheer, and when a regiment
came up in something like fair order through the gardens its
colonel shouted, "Forward, men, and drive the Germans
out"
With a cheer of anticipated triumph those who had so
stubbornly defended the position sprang up, and the whole
rushed forward against the enemy. A tremendous volley
flashed from the wall in front of them. Cuthbert felt that he
was falling. The thought flashed through his mind that his
foot had caught in something, and then he knew nothing
more. .When he recovered consciousness he was lying with a
Rcore of others on the floor of a kitchen. There was a gaping
hole in the roof and loopholes in the walls, but of this at
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 137
present he saw nothing. A man with a lantern was standing
beside him while another was doing something, he didn't
know what, to him.
" What is it ? " he muttered.
" You are wounded, mon brave, and seriously, I am afraid,
but not fatally — at least, I hope not."
" Is this Champigny ? "
" Yes."
"Then we have held the village?"
" Yes, we beat the Prussians back all along the line ; they
could not stand our artillery fire. There, I have bandaged
you up for the present ; to-morrow morning you will be taken
into Paris."
" I should like to go to the American ambulance, if you
can manage it, doctor," Cuthberb said. "I am an English-
man, and have friends there."
" I will manage it if I can for you, lad. Your corps has
done splendidly to-day. Everyone says if it had not been for
you, Champigny would have been lost. So you well deserve
anything I can do for you."
The desperate defence of Champigny had indeed saved
that portion of the French army across the river from destruc-
tion. It had given time for the fugitives to rally, and as if
ashamed of the panic to which they had given way, they had
afterwards fought steadily and well, and had driven the Ger-
mans back beyond the line they had occupied the night before,
Brie-sur-Marne being now in the possession of the French,
having been carried by a desperate assault, in which General
Ducrot lead the way at the head of the troops. During the
various operations they had lost about one thousand killed and
five thousand wounded.
The four days that had elapsed since Mary Brander had
said good-bye to Cuthbert at the entrance to the ambulance
had effected a marked change in her appearance. She had
returned to her work on the Monday morning, but no fresh
cases had come in, for there had been a lull in the skirmishes
at the outposts. During the last few days the beds had been
cleared out as much as possible to make room for the expected
influx, and there was but little for her to do. After going
round the tent of which she had charge, the American surgeon
put his hand upon her shoulder.
"You are no better, Miss Brander," he said. "This is
too much for you. I did not expect to see you break down,
for I have noticed that your nerves were as steady as those
138 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
of an old hospital nurse. Though you naturally lost your
colour when standing by with the sponge at some of those
operations, there was no flinching or hesitation; but I see
that though you did not show it at the time that it has
told upon you. I shall be sorry to lose your services,
especially at the present moment, but I think you bad
better give it up for a time. We have plenty of volunteers,
you know."
. "I will stay on, if you please, Dr Swinbourne. It is not the
work but the suspense that has upset ma One has been expect-
ing this dreadful battle to begin for the last three days, and to
know that at any moment now two hundred thousand men may
fly at each other, and that thousands upon thousands may t>e
killed, is almost too awful to think about. The silence seems
so oppressive, one knows that they are gathering and pre-
paring, and that while all seems so still, we may suddenly hear
the roar of the cannon all round. I think when it once
begins I shall be myself again. It is the waiting that is so
oppressive."
"I can understand that," he said kindly. "It is the
same thing with the troops themselves. It is the pause before
a great battle that shakes the nerves of the men. As soon as
the work begins the feeling passes off and the man who, a few
minutes before, was as weak as a child, feels the blood rush-
ing hotly through his veins, and the burning desire to get at his
enemy overpowers all sense of danger. Well, as there is really
nothing for you to do to-day, for there are three of you in this
tent and only four beds occupied, you had better put your
bonnet on again, child ; a brisk walk will be the best thing
for you; try and interest yourself in what you see passing
round you. From what I hear the fighting will not begin
until to-morrow morning, and it must be later in the day
before the wounded begin to come in. So, though you can
return and take charge again to-night if you like, there will
be really no occasion for you to do so until to-morrow, say at
twelve o'clock ; but mind, unless you are looking a good deal
better, I shall send you off again. My assistants will need all
their nerve for the work we are likely to have on hand. In-
deed, I must beg you to do so, Miss Brander ; nothing is so
trying as sitting in idleness. I shall really want your services
to-morrow, and for my own sake, as well as yours, I must
insist upon my orders being obeyed."
Mary Brander conscientiously tried to carry out the
doctor's instructions, walked briskly along the Boulevards,
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 139
and then going up the Champs Elysees, and turning to the left,
went to the edge of the plateau above the river, and there sat
down on a bench and looked over the country to the south.
There were many groups of people gathered at this point;
most of them, doubtless, like herself, bad friends in the army
gathered outside the walls, and were too anxious and restless
to remain indoors. But although her eyes were fixed on the
country beyond the forts, Mary Brander did not take in the
scene. She was thinking, as she had been for the last two
days, and was full of regrets for the past. She had not alto-
gether admitted this to herself, but she knew now that it was
so, although she had fought hard and angrily with herself
before she owned it.
"He was right," she said to herself bitterly, "when he
said that I had not yet discovered that I bad a heart as well
as a head. We are miserable creatures we women. A man
can go straight on his way through life — he can love, he can
marry, but it makes no change in his course. I know I read
somewhere that love is but an incident in a man's life, while
it is a woman's all, or something of that sort. I laughed at
the idea then as absurd ; now that it is too late I see it is
true. He loved me, or at least he liked me so much that he
thought it was love. I laughed at him ; I told him he was
not worthy of a woman's love. He went away ; here was an
end of it as far as he was concerned. He lost his property
and took to work nobly, and when we met he was just the
same as he had been before, and treated me as if I had been
a cousin, and has no doubt laughed many a time at the
thought of that morning in the garden at Newquay, and
indeed thought so little of it that he did not mind my seeing
all those sketches of that woman in his note-book.
" There were three or four of them, too, stuck up on the
walls of his room. Of course she goes there. He said she
was a model Of course he is fond of her. I should not have
thought it of him ; but men are wicked and women are fools,"
she added, after a pause, " and I do think that I am one of
the most foolish of them. I am like a child who throws away
a toy one minute and cries for it the next. It is horrid, and
I am ashamed of myself, downright ashamed. I hate myself
to think that just because a man is nice to me, and leaves me
two pictures if he is killed, that I am to make myself miser-
able about him, and to feel that I could give up all my plans
in life for his sake. I understand now how it is that women
are content to remain what they are. It is because nature
140 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
made them so. We are like weathercocks, and have no fixed
point, but can be turned by a passing breath.
" We have no rights, because we are content to remain
slaves. Here is my life spoilt. A week ago I was my own
mistress, and felt as free and independent as any man ; now
a thrill runs through me at every cannon shot. The things
that had seemed so important to me then do not occupy a
thought now. However, I hope I am not quite a fool. T
shall shake it off in time perhaps," and she smiled pitifully ;
" it will even do me good. I shall understand things better.
Anna used to tell me I was intolerant, and made no allow-
ance for human nature. I laughed then, but she was right.
When this is all over I shall go away. I don't suppose I shall
ever see him again, and I will make up my mind not to think
of him any more. I wonder what he is doing now ; whether
his corps went out last night or will go to-day ? I hope they
won't be in front. They have no right to put volunteers in
front when they have got regular soldiers. It is downright
wicked that he should have enlisted when it was no business
of his. I wonder she let him do it."
Then she broke off, rose to her feet suddenly, and with an
angry exclamation, "Mary Brander, you are a weak fool,"
she started back at a quick pace and with head erect. Again
she walked round the Boulevards, and having thoroughly tired
herself, made her way home, drank a cup of Bouillon made
from horse-flesh, went straight to bed and sobbed herself to
sleep. She woke up with a start. The house shook with the
explosion of heavy guns. She sprang up and went to her
window, threw it open, and looked out.
She could see Forts Issy and Vanvers. Both were firing
heavily, while between the booms of their guns she could hear
the reports of others. No flashes came back from Meudon or
any of the Prussian positions. Nor, though she held her
breath to listen, could she hear the sound of musketry. She
struck a match and looked at her watch. It was but one
o'clock. She closed her window, and wrapping herself up in
her dressing-gown, sat there for some time looking out. Pre-
sently the fire slackened, and she crept back into bed, but
again rose when the forts re-opened fire. Then, feeling that
sleep was impossible, she lighted a candle and forced herself
to read until daylight. She was dressing when the roar again
broke out. This time it was away to the left. She threw on
her things, put on her bonnet and cloak, and went out of her
room just as M. Michaud issued from his.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 141
"You are going out, mademoiselle. So am I. I will
walk with you, if you will allow me ? I think the real thing
has begun. The firing last night was only, I fancy, to rouse
the Germans and make them pass as bad a night as our men
were doing ; but I think this is the real thing."
Mary was glad of his escort ; it seemed to make it more-
bearable to have someone to speak to. In a few minutes
they reached the spot where she had sat the day before. A
crowd were already collected.
"Where is it?" M. Michaud asked, as they joined a
group who were gathered near the edge of the plateau.
" It is from the southern forts that they are firing, " the
man said. " Look at the smoke rolling up from them ;
they are clearing the way for our men, There, do you see that
puff of smoke away on the right 1 that is from a battery up at
Creteil, and now the Prussian guns on Montmesly, and all
the way round Ville Juif, are answering. The affair is becom-
ing hot. Listen, the chassepots are at work."
Indeed, between the sounds of the cannon, a continuous
murmur could be heard. It sounded like a railway train
passing oyer a distant viaduct.
" Is there any place where we can see better from ? "
" You would see better from the wall over on that side,
but no one is allowed there. Half the National Guard are
under arms, and have taken the places on the walls of the
mobiles, who have gone out."
" It is wretched seeing nothing here," she said feverishly.
" Do you think we could get up to the top of the tower of
NdtreDame?"
" It is a long way ofi," M. Michaud said, "and if people
are permitted there you may be sure by this time there is not
standing room. Besides, even from there the distance would
be too great to make out the movements of the troops."
Mary felt that he was right, and with a little shiver said,
" I will hurry back now, and will then go down to the am-
bulance."
She swallowed a cup of coffee, in which two eggs from the
hidden store had been beaten up, ate a piece of bread, and
then started off As she went along she gathered from the
talk in the streets that things were believed to be going on
well. The musketry was certainly a good deal further ofij and
a light smoke was rising far out upon the plain.
" They say that we have captured Montmesly, and on this
side cannot be far from Ville Juif."
142 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" Ah ! these Prussians have begun to learn what Paris can
do."
" I expect William and Bismarck are by this time packing
up at Versailles," another said. " They will know that their
day has come to an end; everyone says they will both be
hung if we catch them."
Mary hurried on. She knew that hours must elapse before
the wounded could be brought in, but felt a feverish anxiety
to be at the ambulance and to hear what was said there. Just
before she reached it the roar of the distant combat suddenly
increased, but it seemed to her further away to the left. Dr
Swinbourne was standing outside the tents when she came up.
" Do you know what is going on, sir ? " she asked breath-
lessly, as she came up to him.
" I believe that the first firing you heard was the ad-
vance of Vinoy, who moved out under cover of the guns
of the southeru forts. From all I hear, he has advanced a
considerable distance across the plain. I believe that the
firing that has just begun away to the west is the real
battle. Ducrot is out there with a hundred thousand men,
and Vinoy's attack is but a feint to draw the Prussians to
the south, and so clear the way for Ducrot, who crosses the
Marne and advances through Champigny. I heard the plan
last night from one of Trochu's staff. It seems a good one,
and if it is carried out with spirit I see no reason why it
should not succeed. Your rest has done you good, Miss
Brander. Your eyes are brighter, and you look more like
yourself."
"I feel better, doctor. I have been rating myself
soundly, and it has done me good. I feel quite ready for
work again."
The doctor detected a little pathetic ring beneath the
almost defiant tone in which she uttered the words, but he
only said, —
" We all have need of a scolding occasionally, it acts as
a tonic. I should rather like to be braced up myself for to-
night's work."
" It is too bad," Mary said, almost indignantly. "You are
always insisting on our resting ourselves, and you have all
the work on your shoulders. There are eight or ten of us,
and you are all by yourself."
" Not quite by myself. Mr Wingfield is of great assistance
to me, and his aid will be invaluable when the rush comes.
Besides, a surgeon, after the first operation or treatment, has
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 143
little more to do than to watch his patient, if he has nurses
that he can rely upon. As he goes his rounds he gets their
reports, he knows how the patients have passed the night, and
if there is any change in their condition, and if the wounds
require re-bandaging, you are at hand with all that is neces-
sary. It is the responsibility rather than the work which
tries one. Still, if one knows that one is doing one's best,
and that at anyrate the wounded are very much better
cared for, and have much better chances of recovery here
than in the city hospitals, one must be content. Worry
does no good either to one's patient or to oneself. That is a
maxim that does for both of us, Miss Brander. Now you
had better go in and get everything ready. It is probable
that some of those wounded early this morning may soon
be brought in."
Mary went into her marquee.
" The child is herself on the list of wounded," the surgeon
said, as he looked after her. " She has been fighting a battle
of some sort and has been hit pretty hard. Her expression
has changed altogether. There was a brisk alertness about
her before, and she went about her work in a resolute business
sort of way that was almost amusing in a girl of nineteen or
twenty. It was easy to see that she had good health, plenty
of sense, and an abundant confidence in herself. At one
moment she would be lecturing her patients with the gravity
of a middle-aged woman, and five minutes later chattering away
with them like a young girl. I should have put her down as
absolutely heartwhole, and as never having experienced the
slightest real care or trouble, as never having quite recognised
that she had grown into womanhood. Well, something has
occurred to alter all that. She has received a blow of some
sort, and though she may soon get over it she will never be
quite the same as she was before. If one wasn't so weighed
down with work, and had so many serious matters to think of,
she would be an interesting study. I never quite understood
what on earth she is in Paris for by herself at such a time as
this. But there is something that will give me other matters
to think of."
The something was an ambulance waggon which a minute
later drew up in front of the hospital, and from that moment
there was indeed no time for doctor or nurses to give a thought
to anything save the wounded men who continued to pour in
until fully half the two hundred beds were occupied. All
these men belonged to Yinoy's division. Dr Swinbourae would
144 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
take no mora There was already more work to do than he
could get through before next morning, and none of the
wounded who came in later from beyond the Marne were re-
ceived there, but were distributed among the other hospitals
and ambulances, at all of which preparations on a very large
scale had been made.
By morning the most pressing part of the work had been
done. The wounded had been made as far as possible com-
fortable. Some of the bullets had been extracted, some of the
most urgent amputations made. A fresh batch of nurses
arrived to take the places of the white-faced women who had
nobly and steadily borne their part in the trying work of the
night.
" I thank you all, ladies," the doctor said as they gathered
outside the tents before going away. " Your assistance has
been invaluable ; no trained nurses could have shown more
nerve and pluck than you have done. I have just learned that
it is not likely that there will be a renewal of the fighting to-
day, and you can therefore go home with the conviction that
you can take your twenty-four hours off duty without fear
that there will be any pressure in your absence. I am going
to lie down myself for three hours. Even a surgeon has nerves
and I must keep mine steady. There are several operations
that must be performed this afternoon, and some bullets to
hunt up. I beg you all to force yourselves to take something
as soon as you get to your homes, and then to go to bed and
sleep as long as you can."
It did not seem to Mary Brander when she started that
she would be able to walk home, but the keen air revived her,,
and she kept on until she entered Madame Michaud's flat.
" Hon Dieu, my child, how white you look," the French
lady exclaimed as the girl entered the room where she was
taking her morning coffee. " What a night you must have
had!"
The need for strength was past now, and Mary sank into
a chair and burst into a fit of hysterical sobbing. Madame
Michaud caressed and soothed her as if she had been an over-
tired child.
"There," she said, when Mary recovered a little, "take
this cup of coffee and drink it. I have not touched it, and
there are two eggs beaten up in it. Margot will make me
some more in a few minutes. Here is a fresh roll. She made
a batch this morning in the oven ; try and eat it, my child
and drink the coffee, and then I will help you into bed."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 145
Mary, with a great effort, ate a mouthful of bread and
drank the coffee, and in a quarter of an hour was asleep. It
was growing dark when she awoke, and remembering the
doctor's orders she got up and went into the sitting-room.
Madame Michaud kissed her affectionately.
" Now you are looking more like yourself, my child ; truly
you looked like a ghost when you came in. It is the husband's
turn for duty on the walls, so we can sit and have a cosy chat
together. Well," she went on, when Mary had taken a seat
that she had placed for her by the stove, " all is going on
famously. We have pushed the Germans back everywhere,
and Trochu's proclamation says the plans have been carried
out exactly as arranged. There has not been much fighting
to-day, we have hardly had a gun fired. Everyone is rejoicing,
and all the world agrees that now the Prussians have seen how
we can fight they will speedily take themselves off altogether."
" I hope it is so, Madame Micbaud ; certainly the wounded
said that they had advanced a long way on the south side, but I
have not heard at all what was done on the other side of the
Marne. None of the wounded from there were brought to our
hospital. 1 '
" Champigny was taken. They say that there was a hard
fight there, and we pushed the Prussians back beyond it ever
so far," and Madame Michaud's arms expressed illimitable
distance.
" I suppose there are no reports as to what regiments were
engaged 1 " Mary asked.
" Oh, no, but everyone says that the soldiers fought like
lions, and that the National Guard was splendid."
"There were none of the National Guards brought in
wounded to our ambulance," Mary said. "They were all
linesmen and mobiles."
" Perhaps there were no National Guards engaged on that
side, my dear."
" Perhaps not," Mary agreed. " No, I think they all went
out by the east gates."
" Yes, that was where Ducrot commanded, and that was
where the great fight was to be," Madame Michaud said com-
placently ; " no doubt he wanted to have the National Guards
there."
Mary, having, as the result of her own observations, and
from imbibing the very pronounced opinions of Cuthbert as to
the efficiency of the National Guard, formed an estimate
the reverse of favourable to that body, made no reply, but
146 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
indeed derived some little comfort from a point of view dia-
metrically opposed to that of Madame Michaud, saying to her-
self that Trochu probably sent the National Guard with
Ducrot because it was not likely that they would be called
upon to do any serious fighting there.
" Won't you let the boys in, Madame Michaud ? " she said,
changing the subject. " I think their chatter would do me
good, my brain seems stupid still."
The boys were brought in from the next room, where they
were doing their lessons. They were full of the reports they
had gathered from their schoolfellows, and if but half of these
had been true it was evident that the remnant of the German
army were in full flight towards the frontier, and that the
bravest deeds of antiquity faded into insignificance by the side
of the heroism displayed by the French soldiers. Their talk
and excitement had the effect of rousing Mary, and preventing
her thoughts reverting to the scene in the ambulance, and at
half-past nine she again went off to bed feeling more like her-
self than she had done for some days.
CHAPTER XIV
Mabt Brakder was, as usual, called before daylight by
Margot, and was dressing when a sound like the rumbling
of a heavy waggon caused her to pause suddenly, and then
hurry to the window and throw it open.
" They have begun again," she exclaimed, " and the firing
is heavier than it was before. It comes from the east. It
must be Trochu's force engaged again."
She hastily completed her toilette, drank off the coffee
Margot had got ready for her, and then started on her way
to the ambulance.
"It is louder than ever!" she exclaimed. "It must be
a terrible battle."
The roar of the cannon never ceased. The windows and
doors were all open as she went along, and women in various
states of d&habUM were talking excitedly to each other from
the former across the street ; while the men, equally excited,
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 147
were discussing the battle in groups. All agreed that the
forts in the loop of the Marne were engaged. This caused
some disappointment.
" We can't be so far out as we thought," one said, " or we
should be beyond range x)f the guns."
"Perhaps the Germans are attacking us," an old man
suggested, but the idea was received with, derision, and
Mary caught no more of the conversation as she hurried
along.
It was an absolute relief to her when she entered the
ambulance, for the continued roar of the guns and the thought
of what was going on were well nigh intolerable to her nerves,
and her hands were shaking as she removed her bonnet and
cloak. Even the quiet hospital tents shared in the excite-
ment outside. The patients, whose hurts were comparatively
slight, were sitting up in their beds discussing the battle
eagerly. Others, more seriously hurt, raised their heads to
listen, while some, lying apparently unconscious, moaned and
moved uneasily, muttering occasionally incoherent words, the
quiver in earth and air arousing a dim sense of battle and
danger.
" More work for us," Dr Swinbourne said as he passed her,
while she was trying to soothe a restless patient into quiet
again.
" I am afraid so, doctor, and by the sound it will be even
worse than the last."
" The loss is not always proportionate to the noise," he
said cheerfully; "the forts maybe merely preparing a way
for a general advance. They said it was to begin this
morning."
As before, it was not until evening that the wounded
began to come in. Those who were first brought were sombre
and depressed. It was the Germans who were attacking;
the French had been surprised and badly beaten. But later
on the news was better. Champigny had been nobly de-
fended — the French had rallied, and after hard fighting the
Prussians were driven back, and all the ground lost
recovered. Some of the wounded had been among those
who had defended Champigny. To these Mary put the
question she had asked of others who were not too severely
wounded to be able to talk. " Who had taken part in the
fight ? " The mobiles and the line had all been engaged.
" But there were no National Guards, nurse."
" Had they seen any Franc Tireurs ? "
148 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Hitherto the answer to the question had been no; but
the men from Champigny gave a different answer.
Yes, a corps had fought there ; they did not know who
they were. They were dressed in grey. Whoever they were
they fought like tigers. It was they, they all agreed, who.
saved Champigny.
" The Prussians were advancing, " one said, " and we could
not have held out much longer. They were advancing by
the road and through the gardens ; it was all over with us.
when the men in grey came up."
"I was at the barricade," one said. "There were not
twenty of us left there when a company arrived. If they had
fought in a hundred battles they could not have done better.
They had their Colonel with them. A fine old militaire. He
was killed by my side. The Prussians never got a foot
further, for though we were hard pressed again and again,
we held our ground till the cowards, who had run, began to
come back again. It was hot, mademoiselle. I can tell you
it was a rain storm of bullets, and their shell fell every
moment among us, and it would have been all up with them
if the batteries had not silenced their guns."
" I was in one of the houses," his comrade put in. " We
were doing our best to prevent the Prussians coming up-
through the gardens behind, but there were but few of us,
and they were some hundreds strong. If they had gone on
they would have caught us all in a trap, and we were just
going to warn the others to fall back when we saw the Franc
Tireurs come running up. They were smart fellows as well as
brave ones. They knocked loopholes through a wall in no
time, and clung to it for an hour at least. Then the
Prussians were reinforced heavily. The Franc Tireurs fell back
to the next wall, and when the Prussians rushed forward,
they gave it them hotly while we took them in Hank from the-
houses ; they must have a hundred and fifty men left behind
them when they rushed back to the wall they had advanced
from."
"And did the Franc Tireurs suffer much?" Mary
asked.
"I should say they lost more than half their number.
When they formed up after the fighting was over and the-
Prussians driven back, we gave them a hearty cheer. I be-
lieve there were three companies of them when they came up,
and altogether there were not more than a strong company
paraded You must not think that all the others were
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 149
"killed, mademoiselle," seeing by Mary's face that tbe news was
terrible to her. " Of those who didn't parade you may reckon
that two-thirds were only wounded."
" Not so many as that," the other, who had not observed
Mary's face, said, " they were not the fellows to fall out for a
slight wound. Why, the best part of those who paraded had
hurts, and I fancy some of them were serious, though they did
their best to make light of it, and waved their caps when we
cheered them. Tou may be sure that those who were missing
must have been hard hit indeed."
"Imbecile beast," his comrade growled, as Mary moved
silently away, "could you not see by her face that the girl
had friends in that corps? Didn't you notice how pleased
she looked when we praised their bravery, and how white her
face came when I said what their losses were. I tried to
-comfort her by making out that most of the missing might be
only wounded, and then, imbecile that you are, you break in
with your talk, and as good as tell ber that if they ain't all
•dead, they are likely to be so before long."
" I would have bit my tongue out before I would have
8aid so," the other said penitently, " but I did not notice her
looks. Do you think I would have said it if I had, jast
«s she had been bandaging our wounds, too, like a little
mother 1 "
The Franc Tireurs remained in the village all night, and
■as soon as they fell out, had scattered over the whole
ground, collected the dead and laid them together and brought
the wounded into the houses.
The soldier's estimate was not far wrong ; the number of
the dead exceeded that of the wounded, and most of these
were very seriously hurt. Of those found lying behind the
walls, many had been killed outright, being struck on the
bead by bullets through the loopholes, behind which they were
firing ; but of those hit during the retreat, or when at last
they took the offensive, many of the wounds, though of a
•disabling, were not of a fatal nature. The company on the
other side of the village had not been pressed so severely, but
the Prussian shell had fallen thickly there, and a large pro-
portion of the wounds were caused by fragments of shell or
stone. The company which held the barricade had compara-
tively few wounded, but had lost half their number by bullets
through the head as they fired over its crest.
It was hard work indeed for the surgeons and nurses that
sight. For many nothing could be done, they were beyond
150 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
the reach of surgical aid ; but not only was there the work of
bandaging wounds, but of giving drink and soup to all that
could take them, of writing down last messages to friends
from those among the dying who retained their consciousness,
or in aiding Dr Swinbourne and his assistant in their work,
and in temporarily bandaging the wounds of those for whom
nothing else could be done till daylight. At eight o'clock
next morning, an ambulance waggon drew up to the door, and
an orderly came in to the doctor with a message.
" I have six wounded here. The surgeon told me to tell
you that one of them had particularly wished to be brought up
to your ambulance, and as the others all belonged to the same
corps, I was to leave them here."
" I will see if there is room," the doctor said, and calling
one of the gentlemen who aided in the service of the
ambulance, asked him, " Do you know, Wilson, how many
have died in the night ? "
" Eight or ten, doctor."
" Well, get Philips and Grant to help you to carry out
six of them, lay them in that empty tent for the present.
As soon as you have done that, bring the six wounded in from
the waggon outside."
In a few minutes the injured men were brought in.
" Ah, they are Franc Tireurs," the doctor said.
" They are Franc Tireurs des £coles," the orderly who had
accompanied them said ; " the surgeon said they were all
students. They deserve good treatment, doctor, for no men
could have fought better than they did. Everyone says that
they saved Champigny."
" Put them together, Wilson, if you can, or at anyrate in
pairs. They are students of the University, the art schools,
and so on. If there are not two empty beds together put
them anywhere for the present, we can shift the beds about in
a day or two, when we get breathing time."
" There are two vacant beds in No. 2 marquee, doctor ? "
The doctor stepped to the litter that had just been carried
in. Its occupant was sensible.
" Is there any one of your comrades you would prefer to-
be placed in the bed next to you ? " he asked in French.
" Yes, doctor," he replied in English. " The tall fellow
who was next to me in the waggon. I am a countryman of
yours and he is an Englishman, and we are in the same art
school."
"An American?" Dr Swinbourne replied. "I am glad,.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 151
indeed, they brought you hero. You may be sure that we
will do everything we can to make you comfortable. I will
attend to you directly I have seen the others brought in."
Mary Brander's heart gave a bound as she saw the wounded
man brought in, for she recognised the uniform at once. A
glance, however, at the dark head reassured her. As soon as
the stretcher was laid down by the bed, which was the last in
the line, and the wounded man was lifted on to it, she went as
usual with a glass of weak spirits and water to his side.
" Will you drink, monsieur ? " she asked in French.
" I am an American," he said, with a faint smile, " as I
suppose you are."
" No, I am English, which is nearly the same thing."
" I must trouble you to hold it to my lips," he said, " for
as you see my right arm is useless, my collar bone is broken, I
believe, and my shoulder blade smashed. However, it might
be worse."
She held a glass to his lips. As he drank a sudden thought
struck her.
" Are you Arnold Dampierre ? " she asked.
" That is certainly my name," he said, " though I cannot
think how you guess it."
" I have heard of you from a friend of mine — Cuthbert
Hartington. Can you tell me, sir, if he is hurt 1 "
•* Then you must be Miss Brander. Yes, I am sorry to
say he is hurt. I don't know how badly," he went on hur-
riedly, as he saw the look of pain in her face. " I did not see
him until we were put in the waggon next to each other, and
he was not much up to talking, and, in fact, its motion was
too much for him and he fainted, but no doubt he will soon
come round. They are bringing him into the next bed. Per-
haps it will be better for you if you were to let one of the
other nurses attend to him until he comes round a bit."
But Mary shook her head silently. She had been trembl-
ing as she asked the question, but she stood stiff and rigid as
Cuthbert was brought up. She gave one short gasp when she
saw his face as they lowered the litter to the ground. Then
she hurried to the table on which the glasses were standing,
poured some brandy into a tumbler, and was turning when
the surgeon entered the tent. She put down the glass, hurried
up to him, and laid a fluttering hand on his arm.
" Come, doctor ; please, come quickly."
A momentary flash of surprise crossed his face. However,
he said nothing, but quickened his steps and stood by the
152 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
pallet on to which Cuthbert had just been lifted. A shade
passed over his face ; he put his hand on Cuthbert's wrist,
then knelt down and placed his ear over his heart.
" Is he dead 1 " Mary asked in a whisper, as he rose to his
feet again.
" No, no, my dear, I hope he is worth many dead men yet ;
he has fainted from the jolting of the waggon just as many
others that you have seen have done. Fetch that brandy you
have just poured out. He is hard hit," and he pointed to a
blood-stained patch in his shirt just above the waistband of
his troupers. " There is no doubt about that, but we shall
know more about it presently. "
As she hurried off to fetch the brandy the doctor's lips
tightened.
" It is fifty to one against him," he muttered ; " still, I
have seen men live with similar wounds."
He took the glass from Mary's hands as she returned and
poured a little between Cuthbert's lips. Then he listened to
the heart's beating again.
u It is stronger already," he said encouragingly to Mary.
" Now, my dear, you had better go out for a few minutes and
get a little fresh air. Ask Mrs Stanmore to come here, I
must try and find out where the bullet has gone." As she
moved away he went on, " Wait here a minute, Wilson, I
shall want to turn him over directly. Now for the wound.
Ah ! I thought so !" as he removed a lightly-fastened bandage
and lifted a pad of lint beneath it.
" There has been no bleeding since he was taken up. No
doubt he fell forward at first. Now turn him over. Ah, the
bullet has gone right through ! He must have been hit by a
shot fired at close quarters. Well, that will save us trouble,
and the chances of complications. It is now a simple question
of how much damage it did as it passed through. Ah, Mrs
Stanmore," he went on as the nurse came up with a tray of
bandages and other necessaries, " I find that there is not much
to do here."
He took two small pieces of lint and rolled them up;
poured a few drops of carbolic acid on to them, placed one in
each orifice, put pads of lint over them, and passed a bandage
twice round the body to keep them in place.
" Thank you, Wilson, that will do for the present. Please
pour a little strong brandy and water down his throat, Mrs
Stanmore. Now I will see to the next man. How are you
hurt ? In the shoulder, I see, by your bandages."
ui lying insensible on the ground."
P. ■»
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 153
"I was lying down behind a wall, doctor, and raised
myself slightly to fire through a loophole when a bullet came
through. I heard the surgeon say that it had smashed the
collar bone, and had pone out through the bone behind. I
don't know what he called it^ but it is what I should call the
shoulder bone."
" Well, in that case you are in luck," the surgeon said ; " if
it had glanced more downwards you would have been a dead
man five minutes after you were hit. Do you feel comfortable
at present ? "
" As comfortable as I can expect."
"Then in that case I won't disturb the bandages. They
are all tight now, and the man who bandaged you evidently
knew what he was about, which is more than I can say for
some of those who have sent me in specimens of their handi-
work. For the present there is nothing for you to do but to
lie quiet. I will have a look at you again later, there are so
many cases that must be attended to at once."
" I am in no hurry, I can assure you, doctor. I suffered
too much when they bandaged me to want a repetition of it
until it is absolutely necessary."
The doctor nodded, and then hurried off to visit the
men who had been carried off into the other marques.
As he pushed aside the flaps at the entrance he stopped
abruptly, for a few yards away Mary Brander was lying
insensible on the ground, now covered with a light sprinkle of
snow that had fallen in the morning.
"Poor little girl," he said, as he raised her in his arms,
and carried her into his own tent and placed her in a rocking-
chair, " this affair coming on the top of the work last night
has been too much for her." He went into the next marque.
"Miss Betham," he said to one of the nurses, "Miss
Brander has just broken down; she has fainted. You will
find her in a chair in my tent. Take a bottle of salts and a
little brandy. When she comes round make her lie down on
the bed there. Tell her that my orders are absolute that she
is to keep quiet for a time. She is not to go to work in the
wards again, and she is not to leave my tent until I have
seen her. There is no getting a conveyance, and she won't
be fit to walk home for some time."
An hour later Dr Swinboume snatched a moment from his
work and looked in at his tent. Mary sprang up from the
bed as he entered.
" That is right, my dear," he said, " I see you are active
154 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
again. I am sure you will be glad to hear that the patient
you called me to has recovered consciousness. The bullet
passed right through him, which is a good sign. So that
trouble is disposed of. As to the future, I can say nothing as
yet. Of course it iepends upon what damage the ball did on
its way through. However, I am inclined to view the case
favourably. I can only judge by his face, and although that
is, of course, white and drawn, there is not that ashen sort of
pallor which is almost a sure sign of injury to vital parts. "
"Then you think there is some hope, doctor?" she asked,
with her hands lightly clasped before her.
" Honestly, I think there is. He must, of course, be kept
absolutely free from anything like agitation, and if you think
your presence is likely to agitate him in the slightest degree,
I should say that when you come to work again you had
better exchange into one of the other wards."
" It will not agitate him in the least, doctor, " she said, after
a moment's pause, "I can answer for that. We are old
friends, for he has known me since I was a little child ; we
are more like cousins than anything else, and if he knows
which ambulance he is in, I am sure he will be surprised if I
do not come to him."
" I think it is likely he will guess," Dr Swinbourne said,
" when he hears the nurses .speaking English ; and indeed it
seems that either he or one of the others particularly asked to
be sent here. If it is as you say, your presence may do him
good rather than harm, and you can go to him for a short
time ; but remember that you are not fit for nursing, and that
the sooner you are able to get home again the better. Tou
have been on duty more than twenty-four hours, and it has
been a terribly trying time for you all"
Mary nodded.
"I really feel better now, doctor. I have been very
anxious about Mr Hartington ever since I knew that his
corps had gone out, and I think suspense is harder to bear
than anything. You will see I sha'n't break down again."
" If you do, Miss Brander, remember I shall have to take
your name off the list of nurses. We have enough to do and
think about here without having fainting young ladies on our
hands." He spoke gravely, but Mary saw he was not really
in earnest.
"I never thought," she said, "that I should come under
the category of a fainting young lady, and I feel humiliated.
Then I may go in, doctor ? "
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 155
" Yes, if you are sure of yourself and are certain that it
won't agitate him."
A minute later she stood by Cuthbert's side. He was lying
on his back with his eyes open. A hospital rug had been
thrown over him. As she bent over him his eyes fell on her
face and he smiled faintly.
" I was wondering whether you had heard I was here," he
said in a voice so low that she could scarce hear it. " Well,
you see, I brought my eggs to a bad market, and your friends,
the Prussians, have given me a lesson I would not learn from
you. But we beat them fairly and squarely, there is a satis-
faction in that."
" There does not seem much consolation in it, Cuthbert,"
she said quietly.
"There is to me," he said; "that shows you are not a
soldier. To a soldier it makes all the difference as he lies
wounded, whether he has shared in a victory or suffered in a
defeat."
" Then I am very glad that you have won if it makes any
difference to you, Cuthbert. Now you know you have to lie
very still, and I am sure talking is very bad for you."
"I don't suppose it makes any difference one way or the
other, Mary. A few hours, perhaps, but whether it is to-day
or to-morrow is immaterial"
"You must not talk like that, Cuthbert, and you must
not think so. The doctor says that although, of course,
you are badly wounded, he thinks there is every hope for
you."
" So the surgeon said who dressed my wounds last night,
Mary, but I knew that he did not really think so."
" But I am sure Dr Swinbourne does think so, Cuthbert.
I am certain that he was not trying to deceive me."
" Well, I hope that he is right," Cuthbert replied, but with
the indifference common to men in extreme weakness. "I
should certainly like to give the finishing touches to those two
pictures. There is nothing else to show for my life. Yes, I
should like to finish them. You are looking bad yourself," he
added suddenly ; " all this is too much for you."
" I am only tired," she said, " and, of course, it has been
trying work for the last twenty-four hours."
" Well, you must go home and get some rest. If I had
been going soon I should have liked you to have stopped with
me till I went, but if, as you say, the doctor thinks I may last
for a time it does not matter, and I would rather know that
156 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
you were getting a rest than that you were wearing yourself
out here. What o'clock is it now ? "
" It is just two. Please don't worry about me. If I were
to break down there are plenty to take my place, but I am
not going to. Anyhow, I shall wait to hear what Dr Swin-
bourne says when he next comes round, and then, if the report
is favourable, I shall go home for the night and be here
again the first thing in the morning. Are you in much pain,
Cuthbert ? "
"No, I am in no pain at all. I just feel numbed and a
little drowsy, and my feet are cold."
Mary went away, filled a tin bottle with hot water
and placed it at his feet, and then covered them over with
another rug.
"Now you must not talk any more, Cuthbert Your
hands are cold, let me put the rug over them. There, you
look more comfortable. Now, shut your eyes and try to get
to sleep until the doctor comes round."
Cuthbert closed his eyes at once. Mary went about the
ward doing her work for the next two hours, returning at
frequent intervals to the bedside, and seeing with satisfaction
that he was sleeping quietly. At four o'clock the surgeon
came in. She was occupied in serving out some soup to the
patients and did not go round with him. She had finished
her work when he returned to where she was standing, near
the entrance.
"I did not wake him," he said in answer to her look,
"but his pulse is stronger, and the action of his heart regular.
There is certainly a good chance for him. My hopes that
there is no vital injury are strengthened. He will, I hope,
sleep for hours, perhaps till morning. By that time I may be
able to give a more decided opinion. Now, I think you had
better be off at once. I can see you have recovered your
nerve, but there will be a dozen fresh nurses here in a few
minutes, and I shall clear you all out. Do you feel strong
enough to walk home?"
" Oh yes, doctor. I may come in the first thing in the
morning, mayn't 11 "
" Yes, if you feel equal to it. It is possible," he thought
to himself, as he went to the next marquee, " that the poor
fellow only regards her as a cousin, but I am greatly mistaken
if she has not very much warmer feelings towards him, though
she did so stoutly declare that they were but old friends."
Mary, putting on her bonnet and cloak, went out. As she
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 157
did so, a man, in the uniform of the Franc Tireurs, and a
young woman approached.
" Pardon, mademoiselle," he said, lifting his cap as he came
up to her, " is it possible for friends to visit the wounded ? "
Mary glanced at the speaker's companion and at once re-
cognised her. It was the face of which she had seen so many
drawings in Cuthbert's sketch-book.
" It is not possible to-day," she said, " except in extreme
cases. There have been many applicants but they have all
been refused."
"I fear this is an extreme case," Ren6, for it was he,
urged. "It is a comrade of mine, and the surgeon told me,
after examining him, that he was hit very seriously. This
lady is his ficmcJe."
" I know who you mean," Mary said, after a moment's
silence, " but she could not see him even if she were his wile.
He is asleep now and everything depends upon his sleep being
unbroken."
" If I could only see him I would not wake him," the
woman wailed, while Ren6 asked, —
" Can you tell us if there are any hopes for him ? "
" The surgeon said there are some hopes," Mary said coldly,
"but that everything depends upon his being kept perfectly
quiet. However, I have no power in the matter. I am off
duty now, and you had better apply to Mrs Stanmore. She
is in charge of the ward. It is the farthest of the three
marquees."
"What is that woman to him?" Minette exclaimed
passionately, as Mary walked on. "She loves him or she
hates him. I saw her look at me as you spoke first, and her
face changed. She knew me, though I did not know her."
"Oh, that is all fancy, Minette. How can she know
Arnold? She is tired and worn out. Parbleu f they must
have had terrible work there since the sortie began. It is
getting dark, but it is easy to see how pale and worn-out she
looked. For my part, I would rather go through that fight in
the garden again than work for twenty-four hours in a hospital"
" She knows him," the girl said positively.
" Well, let us go on. This woman may give you leave to
go in."
But Mrs Stanmore was also firm in her refusal
" We cannot allow even the nearest relatives to enter," she
said ; " we are all taken up by duty and cannot have strangers
in the wards ; but if the patient is likely to die and wishes to
158 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
see a friend or relative in the city we send for him or her. If
you will give me your name and address, I will see that you
are sent for should the patient ask for you. The rule, I can
assure you, is absolute, and I have no power whatever to grant
permission to anyone except in the case I have named."
Minette went away raving, and it needed indeed all Renews
remonstrances and entreaties to induce her to leave.
" It is clear," he said, " that he cannot be near death ; were
he so he would assuredly ask for you. So after all it is good
news that you have received, and as I told you all along,
though the surgeon said that it was a serious wound, he did
not say that it was likely to be fatal, as he did in the case of
Cuthbert Hartington. These army surgeons do not mince
matters, and there was no reason why he should not have said
at once to me that the American was likely to die if he
thought it would be so."
" I will go to see him to-morrow/' she said, with an angry
stamp of her foot. " If the women try to prevent me I will tear
their faces. If the men interfere to stop me I will scream so
loud that they will be forced to let me in. It is abominable
to keep a woman from the bedside of the man she loves."
" It is of no use you talking in that wild way, Minette,"
Rene" said sternly. " How do you suppose a hospital is to be
managed if every sick man is to have women sitting at his
bed. It is childish of you to talk so, and most ungrateful.
These foreigners are supporting this ambulance at their own
expense. The ladies are working like slaves to succour our
wounded, and you go on like a passionate child because, busy
as they are, they are obliged to adhere to their regulations.
At anyrate, I will come here with you no more. I am not
going to see these kind people insulted."
CHAPTER XV
Mary Brander made her way wearily home.
"You have had another terrible time; I can see it in
your face," Madame Michaud said as she entered. "They
say there have been four thousand wounded and fifteen
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 159
hundred killed. I cannot understand how you support such
scenes."
" It has been a bard time," Mary said. " I will go up to
my room at once, madame. I am worn out."
" Do so, my dear. I will send you in a basin of broth."
Without even taking her bonnet off, Mary dropped into a
chair when she entered the room, and sat there till Margot
brought in the broth.
" I don't think I can take it, thank you, Margot."
" But you must take it, mademoiselle," the servant said
sturdily. " But wait a moment, let me take off your bonnet
and brush your hair. There is nothing like having your hair
brushed when you are tired."
Passively Mary submitted to the woman's ministrations,
and presently felt soothed as Margot, with by no menus un-
gentle hands, brushed steadily the long hair she had let
down.
"You feel better, mademoiselle?" the woman asked pre-
sently. " That is right ; now take a little of this broth.
Please try, and then I will take off your cloak and frock, and
you shall lie down, and I will cover you up."
Mary made an effort to drink the broth, then the servant
partly undressed her and covered her up warmly with blankets,
drew the curtains across the window, and left her with the
words, " Sleep well, mademoiselle."
But for a time Mary felt utterly unable to sleep. She was
too worn out for that relief. It had been a terrible time for
her. For twenty-four hours she had been engaged unceasingly
in work of the most trying description. The scent of blood
still seemed to hang about her, and she vaguely wondered
whether she should ever get rid of it. Then there had been
her own special anxiety and suspense, and the agony of seeing
Cuthbert brought in apparently wounded to death. The last
blow had been dealt by this woman. She said she was his
Jtcmcde ; but although she had it from her lips, Mary could
not believe it. She might be his mistress, but surely not the
other. Surely he could never make that wild, passionate
woman his wife. Then she felt she was unjust. This poor
creature would naturally be in a passion of grief and agony
at finding that she could not go to the bedside of the man she
loved. She should not judge her from that. She remembered
how different was her expression in some of the sketches she
had seen in Cuthbert's book.
"At anyrate," she said to herself, with a hard sob, "I
i
160 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
have no right to complain. He told me he loved me, and I
was almost indignant at the idea, and told him he was not
worthy of my love. There was an end of it. He was free to
do as he liked, and of course put it out of his mind altogether,
as I did out of mine. How could I tell that the time would
come when I should find out what a terrible mistake I had
made ? How could I dream of such a thing ? How could I
guess that he would come into my life again, and that he
would have the power to spoil it? What a fool I have been.
What a conceited, silly fool ; " and so Mary Brander'a
thoughts, ran on until they become more and more vague,
and sleep at last arrested them altogether. She was awakened
by Madame Michaud coming into the room with a cup of
coffee.
, " Well, my child, have you slept well ? "
" Have I slept, madame ? It cannot have been for more*
than a minute or two." She* looked round in surprise. •' Why,
it is broad daylight ? What time is it ? "
" It is eleven o'clock, my dear. I thought it was time to
fcrouse you, and in truth I was getting anxious that you had
not made your appearance. It is seventeen hours since you
lay down."
" Good gracious ! " Mary exclaimed, " and I was due at
the ambulance at eight. I must have been asleep hours and
hours, madame. I lay awake for a time — two hours, perhaps
— and the last thing I thought was that I should never get to
sleep, and then I have slept all this dreadful time."
" Not a dreadful time at all," Madame Michaud said, with
a smile. " You have not slept a minute too long. I feared for
you when you came in yesterday. I said to my husband in
the evening, ' That angel is killing herself. She could scarce
speak when she came in, and I cry when I think of her face.'
You may thank the good God that you have slept so long and
so soundly. I can tell you that you look a different being
this morning."
" I feel different," Mary said, as she sprang up. " Will
you ask Margot to bring me my can of water at once ? "
"Yes, but drink your coffee and eat yonr bread first.
Margot said you only took a few spoonfuls of broth last
night."
"I must have my bath first, and then I will promise
you I will drink the coffee and eat the last crumb of bread.
You will see I shall be quite blooming by the time I comet
down."
I ^
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 161
Madame Michaud was obliged to admit that Mary looked
more herself than she had done for days past when half an
hour later she came downstairs ready to start.
" I shall be scolded dreadfully, madame, when I get tothe
ambulance four hours after my time."
" You look so much fitter for work, my dear, that, if the
doctor has eyes in his head, he will be well content that you
have taken it out in sleep."
Mary walked with a brisk step down to the hospital.
" I will think no more of it," she said resolutely to her-
self. " I have chosen to be a nurse and I will go through
with it. I think when I get home after this is over I will
become a nursing sister — at anyrate, I may do some good at
that ; there is plenty of work in the world even if it is not in
the way I thought of doing it."
But she hesitated when she reached the tents, afraid to
go in. One of the other nurses came out presently.
" Which tent is Dr Swinbourne in 1 " she asked.
" In this," she said. " I was just speaking to him."
" Would you mind going in again and asking him to come
out. I am dreadfully late this morning, and I should like to
see him before I go iu."
A minute later the surgeon came out.
" What is it, Miss Brander ? " he said kindly. " I missed
you this morning, and hoped you were taking a good sleep."
"That was just it, doctor, and I do feel so ashamed of
myself. They thought I looked tired when I came in, and
were silly enough not to wake me this morning."
" Not silly at all, my dear. They did the very best thing
for you, for you had gone through a terrible strain here. I
am glad, indeed, it was sleep and not illness that kept you
away. You are looking quite a different woman this morn-
ing."
"I am so glad that you are not angry. Please tell me
how the wounded are getting on."
" There were ten deaths in the night," he said, " but as a
whole they are going on welL You will be glad to hear that
the young Englishman, who was shot through the body, has
passed a quiet night, and I have now an almost assured hope
that he will recover. Had there been any vital injury its
effects would be visible by now. Now run in and take up
your work."
With a grateful look Mary entered the tent and was soon
engaged at her work. She was some little time before she
162 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
made her way to the further end of the tent. Then she went
quietly up to Cuthbert's bedside.
"I have just had good news of you, Cuthbert. The
doctor says he has the strongest hopes now of your recovery."
" Yes, he has been telling me that I am doing well," he
said. "Have you only just come? I have been wondering
what had become of you. You looked so pale yesterday that
I was afraid you might be ill."
" I have been sleeping like a top," she said, " for I should
be ashamed to say how many hours. Of course, I ought to
have been here at eight, but they did not wake me, and I feel
all the better for it."
" I remember not so long ago," he said, " that a certain
young lady declared that it was ridiculous for persons to inter-
fere in business which did not concern them. Now, here you
are knocking yourself up and going through horrible work for
people who are nothing to you. That is a little inconsistent."
" I do not argue with people who cannot speak above a
whisper," she said. "Another time I shall be able to prove
to you that there is nothing inconsistent whatever in it.
Well, thank God that you are better, Cuthbert. I should not
have gone away yesterday afternoon if Dr S winbourne had not
assured me that there was nothing that I could do for you,
and that he really thought you might recover. You believe
me, don't you?"
He nodded.
" I do believe you, Mary. I did not think myself that I
had a shadow of a chance, but this morning I began to fancy
that the doctor may be right and that I may possibly live to
be a shining light among artists."
" Did you sleep at all ? " she asked.
" Yes, I have been dozing on and off ever since you went
away. I have drunk a good deal of brandy and water, and I
really think I could take some broth. I told the doctor so
this morning, but he said I had better wait another twelve
hours, and then I might have two or three spoonfuls of arrow-
root, but the less the better. I suppose there is no list of
killed and wounded published yet. I should like to know
who had gone. They were good fellows, every one of them."
" I don't know, Cuthbert, but I should hardly think so.
I think Madame Michaud would have told me had there been
a list published this morning."
Mary now turned to the next bed, but the patient was
lying with his eyes closed.
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 163
" I expect he has gone off to sleep," Cuthbert said ; " he
has been in a lot of pain all night, and half an hour ago they
took off his bandages and put on fresh ones, and I fancy they
must have hurt him amazingly. I could tell that by his quick
breathing, for he did not utter a moan. I am glad that he
has gone off to sleep. I heard the doctor tell him that he
thought he might get the use of his arm again, though it
would probably be stiff for some time."
" You must not talk, indeed, you mustn't," she said, facing
round again. " I am sure the doctor must have told you to
keep perfectly quiet. If you are quiet and good I will come
to you very often, but if not I shall hand you over to the
charge of another nurse. I blame myself for asking you any
questions. Indeed, I am quite in earnest ; you are not fit to
talk. The slightest movement might possibly set your
wound off bleeding ; besides, you are not strong enough. It
is an effort to you, and the great thing is for you to be
perfectly quiet and tranquil. Now, shut your eyes and try
to doze off again."
She spoke in a tone of nursely authority, and with a faint
smile he obeyed her orders. She stood for a minute looking at
him, and as she did so her eyes filled with tears at the change
that a few days had made, and yet her experience taught her
that it would be far greater before long. As yet, weakness
and fever and pain had scarcely begun their work of hollow-
ing the cheeks and reducing him to a shadow of himself.
There was already scarcely a tinge of colour in his face, while
there was a drawn look round the mouth and a bluish tinge
on the lips. The eyes seemed deeper in the head, and the
expression of the face greatly changed — indeed, it was rather
the lack of any expression that characterised it. It might
have been a waxen mask.
From time to time she went back to him, and although
the soft clinging material of her dress and her list slippers
rendered her movements noiseless, he always seemed conscious
of her presence, and opened his eye with a little welcoming
smile as she stood beside him, sipped a few drops from the
glass she held to his lips, and then closed his eyes again
without a word. After a few hours the period of pain and
fever set in, but the doctor found no reason for anxiety.
" You must expect it, my dear," he said to Mary one day
when the fever was at its height. "A man cannot get
through such a wound as his without a sharp struggle.
Nature cannot be outraged with impunity. It is certain
164 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
now that there was no vital injury, but pain and fever almost
necessarily accompany the efforts of Nature to repair damages.
I see no reason for uneasiness at present. I should say that
he has an excellent constitution, and has never played the
fool with it. In a few days, in all probability, the fever will
abate, and as soon as it does so he will be on the highway to-
convalescence."
During that ten days Mary seldom left the hospital, only
snatching a few hours sleep occasionally in a tent which had
now been erected for the use of the nurses on duty. At the
end of that time the struggle was over and the victory won,,
and Cuthbert lay terribly weak and a mere shadow of himself,
but free from fever, and with perfect consciousness in his eves.
" How long have I been here ? " he asked Mary.
"I think it is a fortnight to-day since you came in^
Cuthbert," she answered quietly. " Thank God, you are
quite out of danger now, and the doctor says all we have-
got to do is to build you up."
" You have had a hard time of it, child," he said ; " though
I knew nothing else, I seemed to be conscious that you were-
always near me."
"I have had plenty of sleep, Cuthbert^ and am perfectly
well," she said cheerfully.
"Then your look belies you," he said, "but I know that it
is no use arguing. What has been happening outside ? "
" Nothing. The troops were withdrawn the day after the
fight when you were wounded, and nothing has been done-
since."
"How is Dampierre getting on?" he asked.
" He is getting on well, I believe," she replied. " He was.
deliriouS, and so restless, and talked so loud that the doctor
had him carried into another ward so that you should not
be disturbed by it. I have not seen him since, but I hear he
is going on very well. Your friend Rene has been here twice
— indeed, he has been every day to inquire — but he was
only let in twice. He seems a very kind-hearted fellow, and
was very cut up about you. I am sure he is very fond of you.
He says that Monsieur Goude and the other students have all
been most anxious about you, and that he comes as a sort of
deputation from them all."
Rene* had, indeed, quite won Mary's heart by the enthusi-
astic way in which he had spoken of Cuthbert, and had quite
looked forward to the little chat she had with him every morn-
ing when he came to the ambulance for news.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 165
" He is a grand fellow, mademoiselle/' he would ay, with
tears in his eyes ; " we all love him. He has such talents and
8n ch a great heart. It is not till now that we quite know him.
When a man is dying, men speak of things they would not tell
otherwise. There are four or five that he has helped, and who,
but for him, must have given up their studies. The rest of us had
no idea of it. But when they knew how bad he was, first one
broke down, and then another, and each told how generously
he had come to their aid, and how delicately he had insisted
upon helping them, making them promise to say no word of it
to others. Ma foi, we all cried together. We have lost six
of our number, besides the five here. The rest, except Dam-
pierre, are our countrymen, and yet it is of your Englishman
that we think and talk most."
All this was very pleasant to Mary. Cuthbert was now,
of course, nothing to her, but it soothed her to hear his praises.
He had been wicked in one respect, but in all others he seemed
to have been what she had thought of him when he was a child,
save that he developed a talent and the power of steady work,
for which she had never given him credit, for on this head
Rene* was as emphatic as on other points.
" He will be a great artist, mademoiselle, if he lives. Tou
•do not know how much the master thought of him, and so did
we all. He worked harder than any of us, much harder, but
it was not that only. He has talent, great talent, while the
rest of us are but daubers. You will see his pictures hung on
the line, and that before long. We are all burning to see
those he was painting for the Salon this year. There are only
three of us painting for that ; the master would not let any
•others think of it. Pierre Leroux is the third, and he would
have had little chance of being hung had not the Englishman
gone into his room one day and, taking his brush from his
hand, transformed his picture altogether — transformed it,
mademoiselle— and even Goude* says now that it is good, and
will win a place. But Pierre declares that he has not the
heart to finish it. If Cuthbert dies, he will put it by for
another year."
Rene* was admitted to see Cuthbert the day after the
fever had left him, and sat for an hour by his bedside, telling,
after his first burst of emotion on seeing the change that had
taken place in him, about the fate of hin comrades in the studio.
Mary did not go near them. There were questions Cuthbert
would want to ask, messages that he would want to send that
she ought not to hear. She had wondered that this woman,
166 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
who had for a time come every day, and had as regularly made
a scene at the entrance to the ambulance, had, since Cuthbert
was at his worst, ceased coming.
She had never asked about her, and was ignorant that for
the last four days she had been allowed to sit for a time by the
side of a patient in another ward. She thought, most likely,
that she was ill, and had broken down under the stress of her
grief and anxiety. She had even in thought pitied her. It
was she, and not herself, that ought to be watching Cuthbert's
bedside. She might not be good, but she was a woman, and
she loved, and it must be terrible for her to know how ill he
was, and never to be allowed even to see him for a moment.
It was evident that she had been taken ill, and when, on
Renews leaving, she went to her patient, she expected to find
him downcast and anxious. Sad he certainly was, but he did
not seem to her restless or excited as she had expected
"I have been hearing of the others," he said. "Six of
them are gone, all merry lads, taking life easily, as students
do, but with plenty of good in them, that would have come to
the surface later on. It will make a sad gap in our ranks
when the rest of us come together again. The wounded are
all going on well, I hear ; that, of course, is a great comfort.
I hear the other two companies suffered much more than we
did. The walls we fought behind saved us a good deal, you
see. Rene* says the troops all went out again three days ago,
and that there was a talk of a great fight, but there has only-
been some skirmishing, and they have begun to come back into
the town again. Our corps did not go out. They think they
have done a fair share of the work, and I think so too. Rene
says the old Major, who is now in command, is so furious at
the cowardice shown last time by the National Guards and
some of the troops, that he declares he will not take out his.
brave lads to throw away their lives when the Parisians will
not venture within musket shot of the enemy.
" I think he is quite right. I hope there will be no more
sorties, for I am sure it would be useless. If you had seen, as
I did, seven or eight thousand men running like a flock of
frightened sheep, you would agree with me that it would be
hopeless to think of breaking through the Germans with such
troops as these. One victory would make all the difference in the
world to their morale, but they will never win that one victory,
and it will take years before the French soldier regains his old
confidence in himself. Have you taken to rats yet, Mary 1 **
he asked, with a flash of his old manner.
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 167
" No, sir, and do not mean to. We are still going on very
fairly. The meat rations are very small, but we boil them
down into broth, and as we have plenty of bread to sop into
it, we do very well. Our store of eggs have held on until now.
We have been having them beaten up in our morning coffee
instead of milk, but they are just gone, and Madame Micbaud
says that we must now begin upon the preserved meat.
We are a long way from rats yet, though I believe they
are really hunted and eaten in great numbers in the poorer
quarters. "
"And there is no talk of surrender ?"
"No talk at all — they say we can hold on for another
month yet."
" Wbat is the news from the provinces ? "
"Everywhere bad. Bourbaki has been obliged to take
refuge in Switzerland, and his force has been disarmed there.
Chanzy has been beaten badly near New Orleans, and the
Prussians have probably by this time entered Tours. Faid-
herbe has gained some successes in the north, but, as the
Germans are pushing forward there, as well as everywhere else,
that does not make very much difference to us."
"Then what on earth's the use of holding out any longer?"
he said. "It is sheer stupidity. I suppose the Parisians
think that, as they can't fight, they will at least show that
they can starve. What is the weather like ? I felt very cold
last night, though I had plenty of blankets on."
" It is terribly cold," she said. "The snow is deep on the
ground. It is one of the coldest winters that has been for
years."
" What is the day of the month ? "
" The twenty-sixth."
" Then yesterday was Christmas Day."
"Yes," she said; "not a merry Christmas this year to
any of us — no roast beef, no plum pudding, no mince pies —
and yet, Cuthbert, I had every reason to be thankful, for
what a much more unhappy Christmas it might have been
to me."
He nodded.
" I know what you mean. Yes, you would have missed
me, child — cut off as we are from the world here. I am, as
it were, the sole representative of your family. Of course you
have not heard from them."
She shook her head.
" I don't suppose they trouble much about me," she said,
168 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
a little bitterly. " I am a sort of disappointment, you know.
Of course I have been away now for nearly two years, except
for the fortnight I was over there, and even before that I
scarcely seemed to belong to them. I did not care for the
things that they thought a great deal of, and they bad no
interest in the things I cared for. Somehow, I don't think I
have got on well with them ever since I went up to Girton.
I see now it was entirely my own fault. It does not do for
a girl to have tastes differing from those of her family."
"I felt that, Mary. I felt it very much. I have told
myself, ever since the day of dear old father's death, that I
have been a brute, and I wish, with all my heart, I had put
aside my own whims and gone in for a country life. It is
all very well to say I did not like it, but I ought to have
made myself like it; or, if I could not do that, I ought to
have made a pretence of liking it, and to have stuck to him
as long as I lived. I hadn't even the excuse of having any
high purpose before me."
" We all make mistakes ii* our lives, Cuthbert," the girl
said quietly, " and it is of no use bemoaning them. At any-
rate, you have done your best to retrieve yours, and I mean
to do my best to retrieve mine. I have quite made up my
mind that, when this is over, I shall go to London and be
regularly trained as a hospital nurse, and then join a nursing
sisterhood."
" What ! and give up woman in general ? " Cuthbert said,
with a faint laugh. " Will you abandon your down-trodden
sisters ? Impossible, Mary ! "
" It is quite possible," she said in a business-like manner.
" Become a backslider ! Mary, you absolutely shock me.
At present you have got nursing on the brain. I should have
thought that this ambulance work would have been enough for
a lifetime. At any rate, I should advise you to think it over
very seriously before you commit yourself too deeply to this
new fad. Nursing is one of the greatest gifts of women, but,
after all, woman wasn't made only to nurse, any more than
she was to devote her life to championing her sex."
Mary did not reply, but silently moved off with an air of
deeply-offended dignity.
" What an enthusiastic little woman she is," Cuthbert
laughed quietly to himself ; " anyhow, she is a splendid nurse,
and 1 would infinitely rather see her so than as a female spouter
on platforms. I fancied the siege might have had some effect
on her. She has seen something of the realities of life, and
A tVOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 169
•was likely to give up theorising. She looks older and more
womanly, softer a good deal than she was. I think I can im-
prove that picture now. I had never seen her look soft before,
and had to trust to my imagination. I am sure I can im-
prove it now."
Another fortnight and Cuthbert was out of bed and able
to walk about in the ward and to render little services to
other patients.
" Do you know, Mary," he said one day, when she happened
to be idle and was standing talking to him as he sat on the
■edge of his bed, " a curious thing happened to me the very day
before we went out on that sortie. I saw that fellow dim-
ming, the rascal that ruined the bank and then bolted, you
know. For a moment I did not recall his face, but it
■struck me directly afterwards. I saw him go into a house.
He has grown a beard, and he is evidently living as a quiet
•and respected British resident. It was a capital idea of his,
for he is as safe here as he would be if he were up in a
balloon. I intended to look him up when I got back again
into Paris, but, you see, circumstances prevented my doing
so."
" Of course you will get him arrested as soon as the siege
is over, Cuthbert ? I am very glad that he is found."
" Well, I don't know that I had quite made up my mind
about that. I don't suppose that he made off with any great
sum. You see, the companies he bolstered up with the bank's
money all smashed at the same time. I don't suppose that
he intended to rob the bank at the time he helped them.
Probably he had sunk all his savings in them, and thought
they would pull round with the aid of additional capital. As
far as I could make out from the report of the men who went
into the matter, he did not seem to have drawn any money at
all on his own account until the very day he bolted, when he
took the eight or ten thousand pounds there was in the safe.
No, I don't think I meant to hand him over, or, indeed, to say
anything about it. I thought I would give him a good fright,
which he richly deserves, and then ask him a few questions.
I have never quite understood how it was that dear old dad
came to buy those shares. I did inquire so far as to find out
it was Cummings himself who transferred them to him, and I
should really like to hear what was said at the time. If the
man can prove to me that when he sold them he did not
know that the bank was going to break I should have no ill-
will against him, but if I were sure he persuaded him to buy,
170 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
knowing that ruin would follow, I would hunt him down and
spare no pains to get him punished."
" Why should he have persuaded your father to buy those
shares 1 "
"That's just what I cannot make out. He could have
had no interest in involving him in the smash. Besides, they
were not on intimate terms in any way. I cannot imagine
that my father would have gone to him for advice in reference
to business investments. It was, of course, to your father he
would have turned in such matters."
" How long had he been a shareholder ? "
" He bought the shares only two months before his death,
which makes the matter all the more singular. 91
" What did father say, Cuthbert ? " the girl said, after a
short pause. " I suppose you spoke to him about it?"
" He said that my father had heard some rumours to the
effect that the bank was not in a good state, and, having
no belief whatever in them, he bought the shares, thinking
that his doing so would have a good effect upon its
credit, in which, as a sort of county institution, he felt
an interest."
" But did not father, who was solicitor to the bank, and
must have known something of its affairs, warn him of the
danger that he was running ? "
" That is what I asked him myself, but he said that he
only attended to its legal business, and outside that knew no-
thing of its affairs."
" It seems a curious affair altogether," Mary said gravely,.
" but it is time for me to be at work again."
CHAPTER XVI
While in the ambulance, Mary Brander resolutely put her
conversation with Cuthbert aside, but as soon as she started
for her walk home, it became uppermost in her thoughts. It
was certainly a curious affair. From time to time friends
at home with whom she corresponded, sent her local news-
papers, and this had especially been the case during the first
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 171
few months of her stay in Germany, as they naturally sup-
posed she would be greatly interested in the calamity of the
bank failure.
She had, at the time it was issued, read the full report of
the committee of investigation upon its affairs, and although
she had passed lightly over the accounts, she had noticed that
the proceeds of the sale of the Fairclose estates were put
down as subject to a deduction of fifteen thousand pounds
for a previous mortgage to Jeremiah Brander, Esq. The
matter had made no impression upon her mind at this time,
but it now came back to her remembrance.
Of course it was perfectly natural that if Mr Hartington
wished to borrow money it was to her father, as his solicitor
and friend, that he would have gone. There could be nothing
unusual in that, but what Cuthbert had told her about Mr
Hartington buying the shares but two months before his
death was certainly singular. Surely her father could have
prevented his taking so disastrous a step. Few men are re-
garded by members of their family in exactly the same light
as they are considered by the public, and Jeremiah Brander
was certainly no exception. While the suavest of men in the
eyes of his fellow-townsmen, his family were well aware that
he possessed a temper. When the girls were young his con-
versation was always guarded in their hearing, but as they
grew up he no longer felt the same necessity for prudence
of speech, and frequently indulged in criticisms of his col-
leagues, for whom he professed the most unbounded respect
and admiration in public.
Mary had often felt something like remorse at the thought
that, the first time she read Martin Chuzzlewit, many touches
in the delineation of Mr Pecksniff's character had reminded
her of her father. She believed him to be a just and upright
man, but she could not help admitting to herself that he was
not by a long way the man the public believed him to be. It
was a subject on which she rarely permitted herself to think.
They had never got on very well together, and she acknow-
ledged to herself that this was as much her fault as his. It
was not so much the fact that she had a strong will, and was
bent on going her own way, regardless of the opinion of
others, that had been the cause of the gulf which had grown
up between them, as the dissimilarity of their character, the
absolute difference between the view which she held of things
in general, to that which the rest of her family entertained
regarding them, and the outspoken frankness with which she
172 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
was in the habit of expressing her contempt for things they
praised highly.
Thinking over this matter of Mr Harrington's purchase
of the bank shares, she found herself wondering what motive
her father could have had in permitting him to buy them, for,
knowing how the Squire relied upon his opinion in all busi-
ness matters, she could not doubt that the latter could have
prevented this disastrous transaction. That he must have
had some motive, she felt sure, for her experience of him was
amply sufficient for her to be well aware that he never acted
without a motive of some sort. So far as she could see, no
motive was apparent, but this in no way altered her opinion.
" Cuthbert thinks it a curious affair, and no wonder," she
said to herself. " I don't suppose he has a suspicion that any-
thing has been wrong, and I don't suppose there has; but
there may have been what they call sharp practice. I don't
think Cuthbert likes my father, but he is the very last man
to suspect anyone. It was horrid, before, being at Fairclose
— it will be ten times as bad now. The whole thing is dis-
gusting. It is wicked of me to think that my father could
])Ossibly do anything that wasn't quite honourable and right
— especially when there is not the slightest reason for sus-
pecting him. It is only, I suppose, because I know he isn't
exactly what other people think him to be that makes me
uneasy about it. I know well enough that I should .never
have gone away from home as I did, if it had not been that
I hated so to hear him running down people with whom he
seemed to be so friendly, and making fun of all the things in
which he seemed so interested. It used to make me quite
hateful, and he was just as glad, when I said I should like to
go to Girton, to get rid of me as I was to go.
" It is all very well to say, honour your father and mother,
but if you can't honour them, what are you to do ¥ I have no
doubt I am worrying myself for nothing now, but I can't help
it. It is dreadful to feel like that towards one's father, but I
felt quite a chill run through me when Cuthbert said he should
go and see that man Cumming, and try to get to the bottom of
things. One thing is certain, I will never live at Fairclose—
never. If he leaves it between us, Julia and Clara may live
there if they like, and let me have so much a year and go my
own way. But I will never put foot in it after father and
mother are gone. It is all very miserable, and I do think I
am getting to be a most hateful girl. Here am I suspecting
my own father of having done something wrong, although of
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 17$
what I have not the least idea, and that without a shadow of
reason ; then I am almost hating a woman because a man I
refused loves her. I have become discouraged, and have-
thrown up all the plans I had laid down for myself, because it
does not seem as easy as I thought it would be. No, that is
not quite true. It is much more because Cuthbert has
laughed me out of them. Anyhow, T should be a nice
woman to teach other women what they should do, when I
am as weak as the weakest of them. I don't think there ever
was a more objectionable sort of girl in the world than I
have become."
By the time that she had arrived at this conclusion she
had nearly reached home. A sudden feeling that she could
not in her present mood submit to be petted and fussed over
by Madame Michaud struck her, and, turning abruptly, she
walked with brisk steps to the Arc de Triomphe, and then
down the Champs Elysees and along the Rue Kivoli, and then
round the Boulevards, returning home fagged out, but the
better for her exertion. One thing she determined during
her walk, she would give up her work at the ambulance.
"There are plenty of nurses," she said, " and one more or
less will make no difference. I am miserably weak, but, at
any rate, I have sense enough to know that it will be better
for me not to be going there every day, now that he is out of
danger. He belongs to someone else, and I would rather die
than that he should ever dream what a fool I am ; and, now
I know it myself, it will be harder and harder as he gets,
better to be talking to him indifferently." Accordingly, the
next morning, when she went down, she told Dr Swinbourne
that she felt that she must, at any rate, for a time, give up
nursing.
" You are quite right, Miss Brander," he said kindly ;
" you have taxed your strength too much already, and are
looking a mere shadow of what you were two months ago.
You are quite right to take a rest. I have plenty of assist-
ance, and there is not likely to be such a strain again as
that we have lately gone through. Paris cannot hold out
many weeks longer, and after the two failures I feel sure
that there will be no more attempts at a sortie, especially
as all hopes that an army may come to our relief are now
at an end."
She found it more difficult to tell Cuthbert, but it was not
necessary for her to begin the subject, for he noticed at once
that she had not the usual nursing dress on.
174 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
" You are going the take a holiday to-day, I suppose ? " he
said, as she came up to his bedside.
" I am going to take a holiday for some little time," she
said quietly. "They can do very well without me now.
Almost all the patients in this ward are convalescent, and I
really feel that I need a rest."
" I am sure you do," he said earnestly ; " it has been an
awful time for you to go through, and you have behaved like
a heroine. A good many of us owe our lives to you, but the
work has told on you sadly. I don't suppose you know your-
self how much. We shall all miss you at this end of the
ward — miss you greatly, but I am sure there is not one who
will not feel as I do, glad to know that you are taking a rest
after all your work. Of course, you will look in sometimes to
see how your patients are progressing. As for myself, I hope
I shall be able to come up to see you at the Michauds in
another ten days or so. Now that the doctor has taken to
feeding me up, I can feel that I am gaining strength every
day."
"You must not hurry, Cuthbert," she said gravely. "You
must keep quiet and patient."
"You are not in your nursing dress now, Miss Brander,
and I decline altogether to be lectured by you. I have been
very good and obedient up to now, but I only bow to lawfully
constituted authority, and now I come under the head of con-
valescent, I intend to emancipate myself."
" I shall not come down here to see you unless I hear good
accounts of your conduct," she said, with an attempt to speak
playfully. " Well, good-bye, Cuthbert. I hope you will not
try to do too much."
" Good-bye, dear, thanks for all your goodness to me," he
said earnestly, as he held her hand for a moment in his.
" He had no right to call me dear," Mary thought, almost
indignantly, as she left the hospital, " and he does not guess I
know why he is longing to be out again. I almost wonder he
has never spoken to me about her. He would know very well
that I should be interested in anything that concerns him,
and I think he might have told me. I suppose he will bring
her up some day and introduce her as his wife. Anyhow, I
am glad I know about it, and shall be able to take it as a
matter of course."
Mary did not pay another visit to the ambulance. Now
that she had given up her work she felt the reaction, and al-
though she refused to take to her bed, she passed her time
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 175
sitting listless and weak in an easy-chair, paying but slight
attention to Madame Michaud's talk, and often passing the
greater part of the day in her own room.
Madame Michaud felt so uneasy about her that she went
down to the ambulance and brought up Dr Swinbourne, who
scolded Mary for not having sent for him before. He pre-
scribed tonics, sent her up a dozen of wine from the hospital,
ordered her to wrap herself up and sit at an open window for
a time each day, and to make an effort to take a turn round
the garden as soon as she felt strong enough to do so.
On his return to the ambulance the surgeon said carelessly
to Cuthbert, who had now gained sufficient strength to be of
considerable use as an assistant in the ward, —
"I have been up to see your late nurse, Miss Brander.
There is nothing serious the matter with her, but, as I thought
likely would be the case, she has collapsed now that her work
is over, and will need a good deal of care and attention to
build her up again. You will be out in a few days now, and I
am sure it will do her good if you will go up and have a chat
with her and cheer her up a bit. She is not in bed. My
visit did her good ; but she wants rousing, and remember, if
you can get her to laugh, and joke her about her laziness, it
will do more good than by expressing your pity for her."
" I think I am well enough to be discharged now, doctor,"
Cuthbert said eagerly.
" Yes, but you will have to be very careful for some time.
You will want generous food, and I don't see how you are to
get it outside."
" I suppose the restaurants are still open 1 "
" The common ones are closed, but you can still get a dinner
at some of the best places, although you will have to pay very
heavily for it."
" I don't mind that, doctor ; and besides, I am very anxious
to be at work again. It will be no more tiring standing at an
•easel than it is doing what I can to help here."
" That is true enough, providing you do not do too much
of it Up to a certain extent it will be a good thing for you,
but mind I distinctly forbid you to attempt any such folly as
to try to walk from the Quartier Latin up to Passy. Let me
see," he added thoughtfully. "Yes, I think it can be man-
aged. I will send you home by the ambulance that will be
here to-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You are to keep
yourself quiet all day, and I will get Madame de Millefleurs
to send her carriage round for you at eleven o'clock next day,
176 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
to take you round by Passy. She has told me many times:
that it is always at the disj>osal of any of my patients to whom
it would be useful. I will see her some time to-morrow and
arrange about it"
" Thank you, indeed, doctor. I need not say how grateful
I am to 3 ou for all the kindness I have received here."
"We have done the best wo could for you," the doctor
said, " and I am sure there is not one of those who have pro-
vided funds for this ambulance but feels well rewarded by the-
knowledge that it has been the means of saving many lives.
I think we may say that we have not lost one whom it was
humanly possible to save, while in the French hospitals they
have lost hundreds from overcrowding, want of ventilation,
and proper sanitary arrangements. The mortality there has-
been fearful, and the percentage of deaths after amputations
positively disgraceful."
Rene* came late that afternoon to pay a visit to Cuth-
bert, and was delighted to find that he was to be out next
morning.
" I have kept your rooms in order," he said, " and will have-
a big fire lighted in them before you arrive. They will giv&
you breakfast before you leave, I hope."
" They will do that, Ren6, but I shall manage very well
if there is still anything left of that store of mine in the big:
cupboard."
"You may be sure that there is," Ren6 replied. "I am
always most particular in locking up the doors when I come
away, and I have not used the key you gave me of the cup-
board. I was positively afraid to. I am virtuous, I hope,,
but there are limits to one's power to resist temptation. I
know you told me to take anything I liked, but if I had once
began I could never have stopped."
"Then we will have a feast to-morrow, Ren£. Ask all
the others into supper — but you must act as cook. Tell them
not to come to see me till eight o'clock. If they kept dropping
in all day it would be too much for me. I wish Dampierre
could be with us, but he has not got on so fast as I have.
His wounds were never so serious, but the doctor said the-
bones were badly smashed and take longer to heal. He said
he is not a good patient either, but worries and fidgets. I
don't think those visits of Minette were good for him, the
doctor had to put a stop to them. He would talk and excite*
himself so. However, I hear that he is likely to be out in
another fortnight."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 177
"By that time it will be all over," Rene said. "Negotia-
tions are going on now, and they say that in three or four
days we shall surrender."
" The best thing to do, Ren6. Ever since that last sortie
failed all hope has been at an end, and there has been no
point in going on suffering, for I suppose by this time the
suffering has been very severe."
" Not so very severe, Cuthbert. Of course, we have been
out of meat for a long time, for the ration is so small it is
scarcely worth calling meat, but the flour held out well,
and so did the wine, and most other things. A few hundred
have been killed by the Prussian shells, but with that exception
the mortality has not been very greatly above the average,
except that smallpox has been raging and has carried off a
large number. Among young children, too, the mortality
has been heavy, owing to the want of milk, and things of that
sort. I should doubt if there has been a single death but
from absolute starvation."
To M. Goude's students that supper at Cuthbert Harting-
ton's was a memorable event. The master himself was there.
Two large hams, and dishes prepared from preserved meats
were on the table, together with an abundance of good wine.
*It was the first re-union they had had since the one before the
sortie, and it was only the gaps among their number, and the
fact that their host and several of their comrades were still
weak, and greatly changed in appearance, that restrained their
spirits from breaking into hilarity.
The next morning Madame de Millefleur's carriage came
to the door and Cuthbert was driven to the Michauds. For a
moment Margot failed to recognise Cuthbert as she opened the
door. As she did so, she exclaimed, —
" Mon Dieu y Monsieur Hartington, you look like a ghost ! "
" I am very far from being a ghost, Margot, though there
is not much flesh on my bones. How is Mademoiselle
Brander ? I hear she has not been welL"
" She is as pale as you are, monsieur, but not so thin. She
does nothing but sit quiet all day with her eyes wide open —
she who was always so bright and active, and had a smile for
everyone. I go out and cry often after going into her room.
She has just gone into the parlour. Tou will find her alone
there," she added, for Margot had always had her ideas as to
the cause of Cuthbert's visits.
Mary was sitting at the open window, and did not look
round as Cuthbert entered.
178 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" Well, Mary, is it actually you, doing nothing ? " he said
cheerily.
She turned round with a start, a flush of colour swept
across her face.
" How you startled me ! * she said. " I am glad, indeed, to
see you. I did not think you would be out so soon. Surely
it is very foolish of you coming so far. 1 '
" Still thinking you are a nurse, Mary," he laughed. " I
can assure you I am very prudent, and I have been brought
up here in a carriage— a carriage with live horses. Dr Swin-
bourne told me you had not got over the effects of your hard
work, and that he had had to order you to take tonics, so
you see, instead of being a nurse you are a patient at
present, while I am a free man. I came out of hospital
yesterday morning, and we had a grand supper last night
out of my hoards, which I found just as I had left them,
which says wonders for the honesty of the Parisians in
general, and for the self-denial of my friend, Rend Caillard,
in particular."
"Why, I should have thought — " and she stopped
abruptly.
" What would you have thought, Miss Brander ? "
" Oh, nothing.'*
" No, no, I cannot be put off in that way. You were
going to say that you thought I should have distributed my
stores long ago, or that I ought to have sent for them for the
use of the hospital. I really ought to have done so. It would
have been only fair, but, in fact, the idea never occurred to
me. Bene had the keys of my rooms, and I told him to use
the stores as he liked, meaning for himself and for our
comrades of the studio."
" I should have thought," she began again, and then, as
before, hesitated, and then asked, abruptly, "Have you not
something to tell me, Cuthbert? — something that an old
friend would tell to another. I have been expecting you to
tell me all the time you were in the hospital, and have felt
hurt you did not."
Cuthbert looked at her in surprise. There was a slight
flush on her cheek, and it was evident that she was deeply in
earnest.
"Tell you something, Mary?" he repeated. "I really
don't know what you mean. No, honestly, I have not a
notion."
" I don't wish to pry into your secrets," she said coldly.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 179
" I learned them accidentally ; but as you don't wish to take
me into your confidence, we will say no more about it."
" But we must say more about it," he replied. " I repeat
I have no idea of what you are talking about. I have no
secret whatever on my mind. By your manner, it must be
something serious, and I think I have a right to know what
it is."
She was silent for a moment, and then said, —
" If you wish it, I can have no possible objection to tell
you. I will finish the question I began twice. I should have
thought that you would have wished that your stores should
be sent to the lady you are engaged to."
Outhbert looked at her in silent surprise.
" My dear Mary," he said gravely at last, " either you are
dreaming or I am. I understood that your reply to my ques-
tion the year before last was as definite and as absolute a re-
fusal as a man could receive. Certainly, I have not from that
moment had any reason to entertain a moment's doubt that
you yourself intended it as a rejection."
" What are you talking about ? " she asked, rising to her
feet with an energy of which, a few minutes before, she would
have deemed herself altogether incapable. " Are you pretend-
ing that 1 am alluding to myself ? Are you insulting me by
suggesting that I mean that I am engaged to you)"
" All I say is, Mary, that if you do not mean that, I have
not the most remote idea in the world what you do mean."
" You say that because you think it is impossible I should
know," Mary retorted indignantly, " but you are mistaken. I
have had it from her own lips."
" That she was engaged to me t "
" She came to the hospital to see you the night you were
brought in, and she claimed admittance on the ground that
she was affianced to yon."
Cuthbert'8 surprise changed to alarm as it flashed across
him that the heavy work and strain had been too much for
the girl, and that her brain had given way.
" I think that there must be some mistake, Mary," he said
soothingly.
" There is no mistake," she went on, still more indignantly.
" She came with your friend Rene, and I knew her before she
spoke, for I had seen her face in a score of places in your sketch-
book, and you told me she was a model in your studio. It is
no business of mine, Mr Hartington, whom you are going to
marry. I can understand, perhaps, your wish that the matter
180 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
should remain for a time a secret, but I did not think, when I
told you that I knew it, you would have kept up the affecta-
tion of ignorance. I have always regarded you as being truth-
ful and honourable beyond all things, and I am bitterly
disappointed. I was hurt that you should not have given
your confidence to me ; but I did think, when I told you that
I knew your secret, you would have manfully owned it, and
not descended to a pretence of ignorance."
For a moment Cuthbert's face had expressed bewilderment^
but as she went on speaking, a smile stole across his face.
Mary noticed it, and her voice and manner changed.
" I think, Mr Hartinsjton," she said, with great dignity,,
"you must see that it will be pleasanter for us both that this
interview shall terminate. "
He rose from his seat, took his hat off the table, and said
quietly, —
" I have but one observation to make before I go. You-
have discovered, Miss Brander, that you made one mistake in
your life. Has it never struck you that you might also havo
made a mistake this time 1 I think that our very long ac-
quaintance might have induced you to hesitate a little before
you assumed it as a certainty that your old acquaintance was
acting in this way, and that for the sake of old times you
might have given him the benefit of the doubt."
The strength that Mary's indignation had given her
deserted her suddenly. Her fingers tightened on the back of
the chair by her side for support.
" How could there be any mistake," she asked weakly, her
vigorous attack now turned into a defence, more by his manner
than his words, " when I heard her say so ? "
" Sit down, child," he said in his old authoritative manner.
"You are not fit to stand."
She felt it would be a step towards defeat if she did so, but
he brought up the chair in which she had before been sitting
and placed it behind her, and quietly assisted her into it.
" Now," he went on, " you say you heard it from her lips.
What did she say ? »
" She said she insisted on going in to see you, and that as
your affianced wife she had a right to do so."
" She said that, did she ? That she was the affianced wife
of Cuthbert Harrington?"
Mary thought for a moment.
" No, she did not use those words — at least, not that I can
remember ; but it was not necessary, I knew who she was. I
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 181
have seen the sketches in your hook, and there were several of
them on the walls of your room. Of course, I knew who she
was speaking of, though she did not, so far as I can remember,
use your name."
" Did it never occur to you, Miss Brander, that it was a
natural thing one should have many sketches of the girl who
-always stood as a model in the studio, and that every student
there would have his sketch-book full of them ? Did you not
know that there were three or four other wounded men of the
«ame corps as myself in the hospital, that one at least was
a fellow-student of mine, and also a foreigner, and that this
young woman was just as likely to be asking to see him as to
■see me ? "
An awful feeling of doubt and shame came with over-
powering force over Mary Brander.
" No," she said desperately, " I never thought of such a
thing. Naturally I thought it was you, and there was no
reason why it shouldn't be. You were perfectly free to please
yourself, only I felt hurt that when you got better you did not
tell me."
Her voice was so weak that Cuthbert poured some water
into a glass and held it to her lips.
" Now, child," he went on in a lighter voice, " I am not
going to scold you — you are too weak to be scolded. Some
day I may scold you as you deserve. Not only is Minette — I
told you her name before — nothing to me, but I dislike her as
-a passionate, dangerous young woman; capable, perhaps, of
good, but certainly capable of evil. However, I regret to say
that Arnold Dampierre, the man who was in the next bed to
me, you know, does not see her in the same light, and I am
very much afraid he will be fool enough to marry her.
Actually she did, a few days later, obtain permission to see
him, and has, I believe, seen him several times since ; but as
he was moved out of your ward whilst 1 was battling with the
fever, I have not seen her. Now don't cry, child ; you have
been a goose, but there is no harm done, and you ought to be
glad to know that your old friend is not going to make a fool
of himself, and he can still be regarded by you as truthful
and honourable. Do you think I would have taken you round
to my rooms if I had been going to make her their mistress t "
" Don't, don't ! n the girl cried. " Don't say anything
more, Cuthbert. I cannot bear it."
" I am not going to say any more. Madame de Millefleur's
horses must by this time be half-frozen and her coachman be
182 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
oat of all patience, and I must be going. I shall come again
as soon as I can, and I shall be very angry if I don't find you
looking much more like yourself when I next come/ 1
CHAPTER XVII
The belief that in a few hours the siege would come to an end
was so general the next morning that Cuthbert determined to
lose no time in seeing Cumming. As soon as the way was.
open the man might take the opportunity to move off to some
other hiding-place, and, therefore, instead of bringing out his
canvases, as he had intended, Cuthbert decided to call on him
at once. Having chartered one of the few remaining fiacres,
at an exorbitant rate, he drove to the house where he had
seen Cumming enter, and went in to the concierge.
" I want some information, my friend, ,, he said, laying a
five-franc piece on the table. " You have a foreigner lodging
here ? "
The man nodded.
" Monsieur Jackson is a good tenant," he said. " He pays
well for any little services."
" How long has he been here ? "
" He came just after war was declared."
" Has he taken his apartments for a long period V
" He has taken them for a year, monsieur. I think he
will take them permanently. I hope so, for he gives no
trouble, and has never been out late once since he came here."
" I want to see him," Cuthbert said. " I believe he is an
old acquaintance of mine."
" If you ring his bell he will open it himself. He keeps
an old woman as servant, but she has just gone out to do his
shopping. He always takes his meals at home. He is on the
second floor — the door to the left."
Cuthbert went up and rang the bell. Cumming himself
opened it. He looked at his visitor inquiringly.
"You do not remember me, Mr Cumming?" Cuthbert
said cheerfully. " I am not surprised, for I have but just
recovered from a very serious wound. I will come in and sit
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 183
down if you don't mind ; I want to have a chat with you.
My name is Cuthbert Hartington."
The man had given a violent start when his name was
mentioned, and his face turned to an ashy pallor. He hesi-
tated for a moment, and then, as Cuthbert entered, he closed
the door behind him, and silently led the way into the sitting-
room.
" I happened to see you in the street/' Cuthbert went on
pleasantly, as he seated himself. " Of course, your beard has
altered you a bit, and I could not at first recall your face, but
it soon came back to me. It was a happy idea of yours shut-
ting yourself up here when there was no chance of an extradi-
tion warrant being applied for. However, to-morrow or next
day that little difficulty will be at an end. I thought I would
come and have a conversation with you, and naturally the
course that I shall take will depend a good deal on the results.
I may mention," he went on, taking a revolver from his pocket
and laying it on the table before him, " that I thought it as
well to bring this with me, for just at present I don't feel
quite up to a personal tussle."
" What do you want to talk about t " the man asked dog-
gedly. " I may tell you at once that I placed what little
money I got where it will never be found, and beyond sending
me up for some years, there will be nothing to be gained by
denouncing me."
" There might be some satisfaction though, in seeing a man
who has ruined you punished — at least, there would be to some
men. I don't know that there would be to me. It would
depend upon circumstances. I am ready to believe that, in
those transactions of yours that brought the bank to ruin, you
honestly believed that the companies you assisted would turn
out well, and that things would come out right in the end. I
do not suppose you were such a fool as to run the risk of ruin
and penal servitude when you had a snug place, unless you
had thought so ; and, indeed, as the directors were as respon-
sible as yourself for making those advances — although they
were, of course, ignorant of the fact that you held a consider-
able interest in those companies — there was nothing actually
criminal in those transactions. Therefore, it is only for that
matter of your making off with the contents of the safe that
you can be actually prosecuted. At anyrate, I have no present
intention of interfering in the affair, and you can remain here
as Mr Jackson up to the end of your life for what I care, if
you will give me the information that I desire."
184 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
The look on the man's face relaxed.
"I will give you any information you desire; I have
nothing to conceal. Of course, they can obtain a conviction
against me for taking the money, but I should save them
trouble by pleading guilty at once. Therefore, I don't see
that I could harm myself in any way by answering any ques-
tions they may choose to ask me."
" I want to get to the bottom of what has all along been
a mystery to me, and that is how my father came to take
those shares, just at the moment when the bank was so
shaky."
" That is more than I can tell you, Mr Hartington. It
has been a puzzle to myself."
"But they were your shares that were transferred to
him." -
"That is so, and the money came in useful enough, for I
knew that the smash must take place soon, and that possibly
I might not be able to lay my hands on much ready cash.
However, I will tell you exactly how it came about. Brander,
the lawyer, came to me, and said his client, Mr Hartington,
wanted fifty shares. I own I was astounded, for Brander
knew perfectly well that things were in a very bad way. By
the way he spoke I saw there was something curious about
the affair, but as he put the screw on, and as much as hinted
that if I did not follow his instructions he would blow the
whole thing into the air, I made no objections, especially as
he proposed that I should transfer some of my own shares.
• The transfer was drawn up in regular form. He brought it
to me duly signed by your father. I noticed that his own
clerks witnessed the signature, so I suppose it was done in the
office. He made a point that I should get the transfer passed
with some others without the attention of the directors being
called to the matter. I got the transfer signed and sealed by
two of the directors while there was a talk going on about
other things, and they signed without looking at names. So
far as I am concerned that was the beginning and ending of
the matter. Oh, there was another point— the transfer was
t ante-dated three weeks. Of course, it might have been lying
in Brander's office all the time. It was dated on the day
after the previous Board meeting, so that in the ordinary
course it would not be passed until the next meeting, and it
might very well have remained in Brander's hands until he
knew that the directors were going to meet again. I have
often wondered what Brander's game was, and of course I
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 185
thought all the more of it when I saw that he had bought
Fairclose. He was a crafty old fox, Brander, but I have
never been able to understand why he permitted your father
to ruin himself."
Cuthbert remained silent for some time.
" Your explanation only thickens the mystery," he
said. " I can no more understand his motive than you can.
Brander's explanation of the affair to me was that my father
insisted, against his advice, in buying the shares, as he did not
believe in the rumours to the discredit of the bank. He was
a strong county man, as you may know, and thought that
when people heard that he had taken shares it would tend
to restore confidence in the concern. Now, as on the con-
trary, Brander seems to have taken special pains to prevent
the transaction being known even by the director.*, it is clear
that his explanation was a lie, that for some reasons of his
own he wished to defeat my father's intentions. I think I
must get you to put the statement you have made to me on
paper, and to /ret it sworn before a public notary — at least, I
think that is the way out here."
" I have no objection to do that, but as it is my intention
to continue to live here where I am now known as a resident
and feel myself pretty safe, except from some chance meeting,
like that of yours, I would rather that it should be done some-
where else."
" That is reasonable enough," Cuthbert agreed. " I expect
the gates will be open in a day or two, and I shall go to
England at once, and try to get to the bottom of this matter.
I should think the Prussians will let Englishmen pass out at
once. Would you mind going with me as far as Calais t We
can get the document sworn to in legal form, and you can then
come back here."
" I would rather go to Brussels," the man said.
" No doubt that would be best," Cuthbert agreed. " It
might be as well that it should not be done at any place in
France. Well, Mr dimming, your secret is safe with me. I
will call on you again as soon as I find that we can get across
to Brussels."
" I shall be ready whenever you are, Mr Hartington. Of
course, I don't quite see what you will do with this document,
but I am perfectly ready to sign it."
" I don't see either. I shall want to think the matter over.
At present I feel in a complete fog."
" I can quite understand that. I may tell you that Brander
186 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
puzzled me a good deal the last two or three months before
the bank stopped. He spent two or three hours going into
the affairs with me. He knew generally how matters stood,
but he had never gone thoroughly into them before. When
he had done he said, ' I knew you were in a very bad way
before, but I did not think it was as bad as this. I want to
see whether the smash could not be postponed. Things have
been bad lately, but I think they are improving, and some of
these affairs that you have been bolstering up might pull round
if you had time given you."
" I did not see much chance of that. However, I did not
say so — in fact, I wanted to hear what he was driving at.
He went on, after looking through the list of mortgages we
held, ' Of course, Cumming, it is to your interest to hold on
here as long as possible, and I may have mine for wishing the
bank to keep its doors open for some little time yet. It would
never do for you to be going into the market to try and
transfer any of these mortgages, but I have clients in London
who would, I think, take some of them over. Of course, I
have taken good care that in no cases did the bank lend more
than fifty per cent, of the full value of the lands, and the
mortgages are all as safe as if they were on consols. So if
you will give me a fortnight's notice when there is anything
pressing coming forward, I think I can manage to get twenty
thousand pounds' worth of these mortgages taken off our hands
altogether. I might repeat the operation three or four times,
and could get it done quietly and with no fuss. In that way
the bank could be kept going for a good many months, which
would give time for things to take a turn. In case of any-
thing like a run taking place, which I think is unlikely, I
could let you have fifteen thousand of my own in a few hours.
I have it standing at call, and could run up to town and bring
it down by the next train."
" Why he should make such an offer as this puzzled me ;
but his reason for wanting to prop the bank up was no busi-
ness of mine, and there was no doubt if he could get fifty or
sixty thousand pounds' worth of mortgages taken off our
hands, it would enable us to hold on for some time. He did,
in fact, get one batch of twenty thousand pounds' worth
transferred, but about a month before we stopped he came in
one morning and said, ' I am sorry to tell you, dimming, that
I have heard from the people in town I had relied on to help
us about those mortgages, and they tell me they have under-
taken the financing of a contractor for a South American rail-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 187
way, and that, therefore, they are not inclined at present to
sink money farther in mortgages, so I am afraid, as far as I
am concerned, things here must take their course, and, as you
know, they did take their course. Naturally, I did not be-
lieve Brander's story ; but it was evident he had, when he
made the offer, some reason for wanting the bank to keep its
doors open for a time, and that that reason, whatever it was,
had ceased to operate when he withdrew the offer."
" I don't see that that part of the business has any bear-
ing upon my affair," Outhbert said, " beyond helping to show
Brander was playing some deep game of his own."
" I don't know, Mr Hartington. However, I will think
the matter over, and we shall have opportunities for discuss-
ing it again on our way to Brussels."
"I almost wish I had let the matter alone altogether,"
Cuthbert said to himself as he drove back to his lodgings.
" I wanted to clear up what seemed a mystery, and I find
myself plunged much deeper into a fog thau ever. Before I
only dimly suspected Brander of having, for some reason or
other, permitted my father to take these shares, when a word
from him would have dissuaded him from doing so. I now
find that the whole transaction was carried out in something
like secrecy, and that, so far from my father's name being used
to prop up the bank, it was almost smuggled into the list of
shareholders, and that even the directors were kept in ignor-
ance of the transfer of Cumming's shares to him. The whole
business has a very ugly look, though what the motive of this
secrecy was, or why Brander should be willing to allow, if not
to assist in my father's ruin, is more than I can conceive.
The worst of the matter is, he is Mary's father. Yes, I wish
to goodness that I had left the whole business alone."
Cuthbert had given his address to dimming, and to his
surprise the man called on him that evening.
" You did not expect to see me again to-day, Mr Harting-
ton," he said, when he entered; "but, thinking the matter
over, a fresh light has struck me, and I felt obliged to come
round to tell you. I hope I am not disturbing you."
" No ; I have been so worried over the confounded busi-
ness that I have given up going to some friends as I had
promised, as I didn't feel that I could talk about indifferent
matters."
" Well, Mr Hartington, my idea will surprise you. It will
seem incredible to you, and it almost seems so to myself, and
yet it all works in so that I can't help thinking it is near the
188 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
mark. I believe that your father never signed that transfer
at all — that his signature was, in fact, a forgery."
" The deuce, you do ! " Cuthbert exclaimed. " What on
earth put such an idea into your head ? Why, man, the idea
is absurd. If it was a forgery it must have been done by
Brander, and what possible motive could he have had for such
an act ? "
"That I don't pretend to say. If I could see that, I
should say it was a certainty, but I own the absence of
motive is the weak point of my idea. In all other respects the
thing works out. In the first place, although your father
was not a man of business, it was singular that he should go
out of his way to take shares in the bank when he must have
known that in the case of things going wrong his whole
property would be involved. No doubt that idea must have
occurred to yourself."
" Certainly, it astonished me beyond measure that he should
have done such a thing. I wrote to Brander at once, hoping
for some sort of explanation. I was at the time satisfied
with that that he gave me, but it was, as you know, because
the matter, on reflection, has since seemed so extraordinary
that I came to you to try and get some further information
about it."
" You saw your father after this supposed transaction, Mr
Hartington 1 "
" Yes, I was down there for a fortnight."
" And he did not mention it to you ? "
" Not a word."
"Was it his habit to talk on business matters with
you ? "
"He never had any business matters except about the
estate, and he generally told me if he had any difficulty
about his rents, and discussed any improvements he thought
of making, but beyond that there was never any question
of money. Sometimes he would say, c My balance at the
bank is rather larger than usual, Cuthbert, and if you like an
extra hundred you can have it,' which I never did."
" Well, of course, it is only negative evidence that he made
no allusion to his having purchased those shares, still, as he
was in the habit of speaking to you about things, he might
very naturally have said, ( I have been investing some spare
cash in the shares of the bank here.' "
" Yes, I should have thought he would have done so."
" You don't think he would have abstained from telling you
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 189
because he might have thought you might have considered it a
rash speculation?"
"Certainly not," Cuthbert said warmly. "I should no
more have thought of criticising anything he chose to do with
his money than I should of flying."
" Well, at anyrate, you may take it that there is no proof
whatever that Mr Hartington was aware of this transaction at
the time of your visit, nor that he was aware of it up to the
time of his death." Cuthbert nodded. " Now let us suppose
that this transfer was a forgery, and was committed by
Brander, what course would he naturally pursue? Exactly
that which he followed ; namely, to -get it placed on the
register without its being noticed by the directors. These
men were all personal friends of your father's. Knowing to
some extent, though, I admit, without realising the peril, that
the bank was seriously involved, they might have refused to
register the transfer until they had privately remonstrated
with him, especially as I was the vendor ; even had they not
done this, one or other of them would almost certainly have
alluded to the subject the first time they met him. Brander
might have intended later on to re-transfer the shares to some
bogus purchaser, but, at anyrate, if he knew your father was
in bad health, he would have wanted to keep the bank from
putting up its shutters until after his death. You will re-
mark that he did assist in that way while your father was
alive, and that, almost immediately after his death, he declined
to support the bank farther. What his motive can have
been in all this I own that I cannot imagine, but, given a
motive, my supposition appears to be perfectly feasible. That
the motive, whatever it was, must have been a very strong
one I admit, for, in the first place, he was running the risk
of being detected of forgery, and in the second, must have
been three hundred pounds out of pocket, for that was the
amount of the cheque he handed to me."
" It was his own cheque, then, and not my father's ? "
" Yes, he said he had rents in hand, and therefore paid it
out of them, which seemed natural enough. But how about
the signatures of the two clerks 1 "
" They may be forgeries too, or, possibly, knowing your
father's signature, they may have signed as a matter of course
without actually seeing him affix it. You will admit that all
this is possible f "
" It seems possible enough," Cuthbert said ; " but what
motive could there have been on Blunder's part) He could
190 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
never have run such a risk merely to gratify any special fancy
lie may have had for Fairclose."
" Certainly not, Mr Hartington. Jeremiah Brander has
not a particle of sentiment in his composition. Of course, as
he was the solicitor of the company, I made it my business
to study the man pretty closely, and I came to the conclusion
that he was a rank humbug, but that he was a humbug
because it payed him to be one."
" That is quite my own idea of him, but that does not
help us in the slightest towards an explanation as to why he
should risk everything when he had nothing whatever to gain
by it."
" No, I feel that difficulty myself," dimming said, strok-
ing his chin thoughtfully. " I admit that beats me altogether.
By the way," he said, suddenly, " I saw in the official report
that he had a mortgage of fifteen thousand on the estate. Do
you mind telling me how that came about ; it may possibly
help us?"
" I have not the least idea. I never heard of the existence
of the mortgage until Brander wrote to me himself about it
at the time he bought the estate, but he gave me an explana-
tion that perfectly satisfied me at the time."
Mr Cumming looked at him inquiringly.
" It was an explanation," Cuthbert said after a pause,
41 that closed my lips altogether on the subject. But in the
present strange state of affairs I do not know that I need
abstain from mentioning it to you. Brander explained that
my father said that he required it to close up a matter that
had long been troubling him. I gathered from the way he
put it that it was some folly with a woman in his early years,
and I need not say that respect for my father's memory pre-
vented me from pursuing the matter further. Brander said
that he had himself advanced the money on the mortgage in
order that the business should be done privately and without
any third person being cognisant of it."
Gumming sat thoughtfully for a minute without speaking,
and then he leapt suddenly to his feet and put his hand on
Cuthbert's shoulder.
" You take my word for it, Mr Hartington, that mortgage
was just as much a bogus affair as the transfer. The one
supplies the motive we have been looking for for the other.
The failure of the bank brought Fairclose into the market, and
not only did Brander purchase it for ten or fifteen thousand
below its value at any other time, but he gained another
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 191
fifteen thousand by this bogus mortgage. There is your motive
for the forgery of your father's name on the transfer."
"I cannot believe it," Cuthbert said slowly. "Brander
could never be such a scoundrel -as that. Besides, of course,
the men who wound up the affairs of the bank would look
closely into the mortgage. Whether it was real or whether it
was a forgery, Brander would equally have obtained the money
at my father's death, so your supposition of a motive fails."
" I do not know. Had the claim been made direct to you,
you would naturally have got some sharp lawyer to investigate
it, and it would have been inquired into a good deal more
•closely than the official liquidator probably took the trouble to
do. A mortgage, of which no one knows anything until after
the mortgagor's death would always be looked upon with sus-
picion, and some collateral proofs would be required. Of
course, I may be wrong altogether, but it would be well for
you to ascertain whether the official liquidator did take any
steps to obtain such evidence."
" That I will certainly do," Cuthbert said. " I did write to
him at the time, and 1 am bound to say his answer seemed
entirely satisfactory and straightforward. He said that Mr
Brander had given proof that he did draw a cheque for the
amount of the mortgage on the day on which it was executed,
and although he did not show that interest had been speci-
fically paid by cheques from my father, there were receipts
found among my father's papers for the half-yearly payments
of interest. These were, it seemed, settled when Brander, who
collected his rents, made up his accounts with him."
" That all seems straightforward enough, Mr Hartington,
and as long as there was no ground for suspicion would doubtless
pass muster, but it is certainly worth while inquiring into."
Cuthbert sat silent for some time.
" After all, the whole of this is but the barest suspicion, 1 '
lie said. " The only thread of fact being that the transfer was
kept secret from the directors, of which no doubt Brander will
be able to give some plausible explanation, and his character
stands so high at Abchester that the question, if raised, would
be scouted an atrocious libel upon him. But supposing that
we had absolute proof, I don't see how I should stand. If my
father was not a shareholder in the bank its creditors had, of
course, no claim whatever on his property, but as the property
has in fact been sold and the proceeds divided long ago, who
.should I have to £0 against 1 "
" That is a matter for the lawyers, Mr Hartington, but I
192 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
imagine you would not have to go back on the creditors of the
bank. You would simply prove that the bank was not in a
position to give a title, and that therefore the sale was null
and void. It would be argued, of course, that you gave the
title, as I suppose you signed the deeds, and your plea would
be that the signature was obtained from you by fraud."
"I did not sign the deeds," Cuthbert said. "Brander
pointed out that, as I had not received any rents or profits, it
would be better that I should stand out of it altogether, and
that the will should not be proved, as otherwise the death
dues would be charged upon it, and therefore it remained in
the hands of the executors, of whom he was one, and it was
they who gave the titles."
" Whoever gave the titles I should say that as the bank
had no claim whatever on the property, if the transfer was a
forgery, the sale would be declared void, and the loss would
fall on the purchaser. This would, in the case of anyone but
Brander, have been very hard, but would, in his, be in
strict accordance with justice. However, this is a matter for
which, of course, you will require the best legal opinion, but
all that is for after consideration. The great difficulty, and I
grant that I don't see how it is to be got over, is to prove that
your father's signature to the transfer was a forgery. The
first step is to ascertain whether the attesting witnesses were
actually present as they should have been when your father's
signature was affixed."
" I will clear up that point anyhow," Cuthbert said. " I
will go straight from Brussels to England, see the clerks, and
here what they have to say on the matter. If they were present
and saw my father sign the transfer there is an end to the
whole affair."
The other nodded.
"I would not mind wagering a hundred pounds to one
that you find that they were not present."
"Well, that will soon be settled, for I have heard this
afternoon that the conditions of surrender were signed this
morning, and that to-morrow the forts are to be given over and
an armistice will commence. In that case I suppose that
foreigners will meet with no difficulty in obtaining passes to
leave at once. Well, I am very much obliged to you for the
suggestion you have made, Mr Gumming, though I have, I con-
fess, very little faith indeed that anything will come of it, and
just at present it seems to me that I would much rather the
matter had remained as it was."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 193
CHAPTER XVIIL
The next morning Cuthbert went down to Madame Michaud's.
" You are looking better, Mary," he said, as he entered.
" Why, you have got quite a pretty colour in your cheeks."
" Don't talk nonsense, please. I am better, a great deal
better. But it is no wonder I have a colour ; I have been
blushing with shame at my own folly ever since you were here."
" If you never do anything more foolish than that, you will
get through life well enough. Appearances were against me,
and you jumped at conclusions a little too fast. Let us say
no more about it."
" You are not looking so well, I think, Cuthbert."
" No ; I have been a little bothered."
"Have you seen that man dimming?" she asked quickly.
" Yes," he answered, in some surprise ; " though what should
make you associate him with my being bothered, I don't know."
" You said that you were going to see him, and somehow,
I don't know why, I have been rather worrying over it. Was
the interview satisfactory ? Did you learn what you wanted ? "
" Not altogether," he said ; " but it is all a matter of con-
jecture, Mary, and I own that it has worried me a bit, and,
indeed, I am sorry I went to him at all. However, as it is
business, and ladies are not good at business, suppose we talk
of something else."
Mary made no reply, but sat looking at him, while she
twisted her fingers nervously before her. "May I ask one
question, Cuthbert?"
"Yes, if you like, but I don't promise to answer it."
" Do you think that there is any blame attached to my
father?"
Cuthbert was startled. He had certainly not expected
this question.
"What on earth should put that idea into your head,
Mary?"
" I don't know," she replied ; " but it has always struck me
as so strange that he should not have prevented Mr Harting-
ton from buying those shares. I don't know much of business,
but I have thought a great deal about it, and it has always
seemed a strange affair to me, and I have worried a great deal
over it since he bought the house. That is one reason why I
hate :*oing there."
194 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" Perhaps your father was not quite so prudent in the
matter as he might have been, Mary," Cuthbert said, trying to
speak lightly, though he found it difficult to do so with the
girl's earnest eyes fixed on him ; "but even of that I am not
sure. Now, suppose we change the subject again ; it -seems
that we are to hit on difficult subjects this morning. The
gates will probably be opened, at anyrate to the foreigners, '
in a day or two. Are you thinking of going home to prepare
yourself for taking up your vocation as a nurse ? "
" Not yet," sh© replied ; " there is no hurry for that, and
it will be some time before the country is settled."
"You are sure that you have not changed your mind
again?"
"No; why should It"
" I thought perhaps you might have done so, and might
possibly be inclined towards the vocation you so scornfully re-
pudiated when I suggested it before. I intended to ask you
yesterday, but it would not have been fair when you were so
weak and shaken."
The girl had glanced at him, and had then flushed hotly.
u I don't know — I am not sure— what you mean."
u And I am sure that you know very well, Mary, that I
mean the vocation of taking care of me, which you repudiated
with scorn — in fact, refused to entertain it seriously at all. Of
course, there may have been other grounds, but the one you
laid stress on was that I was lazy and purposeless, and that if
you ever did take up such a vocation, it would be to take care
of someone you could respect. I don't say for an instant that
I approach to that altitude, but at least I may say I am no
longer an idler, that I have worked hard, and that I have
every hope of success. You see, too, that I want you more
than I did then. I am a poor artist, and not the heir to
a good estate. But as you are fond of sacrificing yourself,
that may not be altogether an objection. At anyrate, dear,
I think I shall be able to keep you comfortably. I am not
sure I should ever have mustered up courage enough to have
spoken on this subject again, had it not been for yesterday.
But that gave me a little hope that you really had come to care
about me a little, and that possibly you might be willing to
change your plans again in my favour."
" I did not think you really loved me then," she said. u I
thought it was just a passing fancy."
" You see it was not, dear. All these months that I have
worked hard, it was partly from the love of art and with the
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A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 195
hope that I might be a really great artist, but at the bottom
of it all along has been the thought of you and the determina-
tion that in one respect I would become worthy of you."
" Don't talk like that, Cuthbert. I know now that I was
a headstrong, conceited girl, thinking I was strong when I
was as weak as water. You were right when you said I was
not yet a woman, for I had never found that I had a heart.
It is I who am unworthy."
"Well, it is no question of worthiness now. The ques-
tion is, Do you love me as I love you f "
" Are you sure you do, Cuthbert ? I have thought all these
months that you had taken me at my word, and that it was
but as a friend you regarded me. Are you sure it is not grati-
tude for what little I did for you in the hospital ? Still more,
that it is not because I showed my feelings so plainly the day
before yesterday, and that it is from pity as well as gratitude
that you speak now."
" Then you were really a little jealous, Mary f "
" You know I was. It was shameful of me to show it, so
shameful that I have hated myself since. I know that, after
doing so, I ought to say no— no a thousand times. I love you,
Cuthbert, I love you ; but I would rather never marry you
than feel it was out of pity that you took me. That would be
too hard to bear."
They were both standing now.
" You are talking nonsense, child," he said tenderly, as he
J took her hand. "You know I love you truly. Surely my
1 pictures must have told you that. Honestly, now, did you not
feel that it was so ? "
" I did not know you loved me then, Cuthbert. There were
other things, you know, that made me feel it could not be so, but
? then that for the first time I really knew — " and she stopped.
" That you loved me, darling 1 " and he drew her closer to
him. " Now, you gave me a straightforward answer before — :
I insist on as straightforward a one now."
And this time the answer was not — No.
" Mind," he said, a few minutes afterwards, " your voca-
tion is definitely fixed at last, Mary, and there must be no
more changing."
" As if you did not know there won't be," she said saucily.
And then suddenly altering her tone, she went on, "Now,
-Cuthbert, you will surely tell me what you would not before.
What did you find out t It is something about my father, I
■am sure."
196 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
" Let me think before I answer you," he said, and then sat
silent for two or three minutes. " Well/' he said at last, " I
think yon have a right to know. You may be sure that, in any
case, I should before, for your sake, have done everything in my
power towards arranging things amicably with him. Now, of
course, that feeling is vastly stronger, and for my own sake, as
well as yours, I should abstain from any action against him.
Mind, at present I have only vague suspicious, but if those
suspicions turn out true, it will be evident that your father
has been pursuing a very tortuous policy, to put it no stronger,
in order to gain possession of Fairclose. I cannot say defin-
itely as yet what I shall do, but at present I incline to the
opinion that I shall drop the matter altogether."
" Not for my sake, Cuthbert," she said firmly. " I have
always felt uneasy about it. I can scarcely say why, but I
am afraid it is so. Of course, I know my father better
than people in general do. I have known that he was not
what he seemed to be. It has always been my sorest trouble
that we have never got on well together. He has never liked
me, and I have not been able to respect him. I know that
if he has done anything absolutely wrong, it seems terrible
that I should even think such a thing possible — but if it haa
been so — I know you will not expose him."
"We will not talk any more about it, dear," Cuthbert
interrupted ;" it is all the vaguest suspicion, so let us put it
aside altogether now. Just at present I am a great deal too
happy to give as much as a thought to unpleasant matters.
We have to attend to the business of the hour, and you have
the two years of love, of which I have been deprived, to make
up for."
" I am very, very glad, Cuthbert, that I was not in love
with you then."
"Why!"
"Because we should have started all wrong. I don't
think I should ever have come to look up to you and honour you
as I do now. I should never have been cured of my silly ideas,
and might even have thought that I had made some sort of
sacrifice in giving up my plans. Besides, then, you were what
people call a good match, and now no one can think that it is
not for love only."
"Well, at anyrate, Mary, we shall have between us
enough to keep us out of the workhouse even if I turn out an
absolute fai'ure."
" You know you won't do that."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 197
" 1 hope not, but, at anyrate, one is liable to illness, to
loss of sight, and all sorts of other things, and as we have
between us four hundred a year, we can manage very com-
fortably even if I come to an end of my ardour for work and
take to idleness again."
" I am not afraid of that," she smiled. " After painting
those two pictures you could not stop painting. I don't think
when anyone can do good work of any sort he can get tired
of it, especially when the work is art. My only fear is that I
sha'n't get my fair share of your time."
"Well, if I see you getting jealous, Mary, I have the
means of reducing you to silence by a word."
" Have you, indeed 1 Will you please tell me what word
is that t"
" I shall just say, Minette ! "
Mary's colour flamed up instantly.
" If you do, sir ; if you do—" and then stopped.
" Something terrible will come of it, eh. Well, it was not
fair."
u It was quite fair, Cuthbert. It will always be a painful
recollection to me, and I hope a lesson too."
" It will not be a painful recollection to me," he laughed.
41 1 think I owe Minette a debt of gratituda Now, what
do you say to taking a drive, Mary f Horse-flesh has gone
down five hundred per cent, in the market in the last
three days, and I was able to get a fiacre on quite reason-
able terms."
" Is it waiting here still. How extravagant, Cuthbert ; it
must have been here nearly an hour."
" I should say I have been here over two hours and a
quarter according to that clock."
" Dear me, what will Madame Michaud think f Shall I
tell her, Cuthbert?"
" I don't care a snap what she thinks. You can do just
as you like about telling her. Perhaps it will be as well, as I
intend to see a good deal of you in the next few days.
But if you write home, don't say anything about it. There
are reasons, which we can talk over another time why, it
will be best to keep it to ourselves for a time."
Mary nodded. That he wished a thing was quite suf-
ficient for her at the present moment.
" Do you want me to go out with you ? " she asked.
"Just as you like. I believe that as a rule a ring has
to be purchased at the conclusion of an arrangement such as
198 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
we have just entered into, and I thought you might just
as well choose one yourself."
" Oh, I would much rather not," she exclaimed ; " and be-
sides, I think for to-day I would rather sit quiet and think it
all over and realise how happy I am."
" Well, for to-day you shall have your own way, Mary, but
you have been doing a good deal more thinking than is good
for you, and after to-day we must go out for a good walk
regularly. You see we have both to get up our strength.
I had quite forgotten I had anything the matter with me,
and you only wanted rousing, dear. The doctor said as
much to me, and you know, after all, happiness is the best
tonic." *
** Then I must be perfectly cured already, Cuthbert ; but
remember you must take care of yourself. The best of
tonics won't set anyone up at once who has had a real illness
as you have had. You want something more substantial.
Good strong soups and roast beef are the essentials in your
case. Remember, sir, I have been your nurse and mean to
continue so till your cure is complete. You will come again
to-morrow, Cuthbert ? "
"Of course, dear. Now about that ring. I have ob-
served you never wear one. Have you one you can lend
me, or must I measure with a piece of thread ? "
" I will get you one, Cuthbert. I am not without such a
possession, although I have never worn one. I looked upon it
as a female vanity," she added, with a laugh, " in the days
when I thought myself above such things. What a little fool
you must have thought me, Cuthbert ! "
The next morning, when Cuthbert came, Mary had her
things on in readiness to go out with him, and after a short
delay to admire and try on the ring, they set out to-
gether.
" I did not tell you yesterday, Mary," Cuthbert said,
after they had walked a short distance, " that, as soon as the
arrangements for foreigners to leave the town are settled, I
am going to Brussels with Cumming. He is going to make
an affidavit, and this he cannot do here, as if I should have
occasion to use the document it would be the means of en-
abling the police to trace him here and to demand his extra-
dition. After that I shall go on to England to make some
inquiries that are essential. I will give you all particulars if
you wish it, but I think it will be very much better that you
shall know nothing about the matter ; it may turn out to be
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 199
nothing at all; it may, on the other hand, be extremely
important. It is a painful business anyhow, but in any case
I think it will be much the best that you should know
nothing about it You can trust me, can you not ? "
"Altogether," she said, "and certainly I would rathei
know nothing about it. But mind, Cuthbert, you must do
what you think is right and best without any question about
me. If you have been wronged you must right yourself, and
I am sure that in doing so you will do it as gently and kindly
as possible."
"I will try to do so," he said. "At present, as I told
you, the suspicions are very vague and rest entirely upon
the statement Cumming has made. If those suspicions
should be verified, a great wrong has been done, and that
wrong must be righted, but that can no doubt be arranged
without publicity or scandal. The reason why I do not wish
you to say a word about our engagement is, that were it
known it would tie my hands terribly and render it so im-
possible for me to take any strong ground that I should
be altogether powerless."
"Do entirely as you think best, Cuthbert. Of course,
beyond the fact that perhaps something wrong may have
been done, I have not an idea what it can be, and I do not
want to know, unless it must be told ma How long are
you likely to be away, and do you think you are fit to
travel?"
"There is no great fatigue in travelling," he said. "I
can't say how long I shall be— not long, I hope. You may
be sure that I shall not be longer than I can possibly help."
" I shall miss you dreadfully, but, of course, if you think
it necessary, you must go. Besides," she said saucily, "if
you are in no hurry about me, I know you will be anxious
to get back to finish your pictures, No, Cuthbert, I really
can't have that. There are people in sight."
" I don't care if there are," he laughed.
"I do, very much. Whoever heard of such a thing t
What would they think of me?"
"I did not know that you cared what people thought
of you, Mary."
"Not about some things, perhaps, but there are limits,
you know."
A week later, duly provided with passes, Cuthbert and
Cumming made their way in a carriage to the Belgian
frontier, and then went on by train to Brussels, where, on
200 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
the day after their arrival, dimming drew up and signed a
statement with reference to the details of his transference
of the shares to Mr Hartington, and swore to its contents
before a Belgian legal official.
" I shall stay here for a few days," he said to Cuthbert,
as the latter started the next morning for England. " I am
quite safe for the present, and after a long course of horse-
flesh I really cannot tear myself away from decent living
until Paris is re-victualled and one can live there in comfort
again. I wish you every success in your search. The more
I think of it the more convinced I am that we are not far
wrong as to the manner in which Brander has got hold of
your estates."
Cuthbert, on arriving in London, took up his quarters at
the Charing Cross Hotel. On the morning after his arrival
he wrote a letter to Dr Edwards, at Abchester.
"My dear Doctor, — I have just returned from Paris,
where I have been shut up for the last four months. I do
not care about coming down to Abchester at present. I
suppose I have not quite got over my soreness over matters
in general, but for reasons which I need not enter into, I
want to know if Brander's clerks, who were with him when
I was last there, are still with him in his office, and, if not,
where they are employed. I do not know anyone else to
T7rite to on the subject, and I am sure you will not mind
taking the trouble in the matter for me."
The answer came back by return of post.
"My dear Cuthbert, — I was very glad to hear of you
again. I have asked Brander from time to time about you,
and he always says that he has not heard from you for
months, and though your letter says nothing beyond the
fact that you are alive, I was glad to get it. I hope next
time you write you will give me full details about yourself,
and that ere long you will make up your mind to come down.
I need not say that we shall be delighted to put you up when
you do come. I should imagine you would not care to go to
Fairclose. Now, as to your question. Harford, the elder of
the two clerks, left the office here very shortly after you
went away. Levison, the younger, is still here. I put my-
self in the way of meeting him as he went to the office this
morning. I stopped and chatted with him for a minute or
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 201
two, and asked him carelessly how Mr Harford was, and
whether he ever heard from him. He said he heard occasion-
ally, and that he was welL 'By the way, where is he work-
ing now ? ' I asked ; ' I know he went up to a firm in town.'
* Oh, yes, he is with Barrington & Smiles, of Essex Street.
He is getting on very well there, I believe. He is head of
their conveyancing branch. I wish I could drop into as good
* billet, doctor. I should be very glad of a change. 9 So
much for that business. Things are getting on pretty much
the same up at the old place. Brander still comes up to his
office for an hour or so every day. I don't think he cares
much for the county gentleman's lifa I fancy Mrs B. is
rather a disappointed woman. The fact is there was a good
deal of feeling in tbe county as to Brander's connection with
the bank. Almost everyone was let in more or less, you
know, for the depositors have only got eight shillings in the
pound so far, and I don't suppose they will ever get much
more. There is an idea that Brander ought to have found
out what was going on, and, indeed, that he must have known
a good deal about it, and that, at anyrate, what he did know
should have been ample to have rendered it his duty to warn
your father against taking shares so short a time before the
smash. His purchase of Fairclose did not improve matters,
and so far from their taking your father's place in the county,
I may say without being absolutely cut they are much more
out of it than they were before. However, when you come
down I will give you all the local gossip."
It was late in the afternoon when Cuthbert received the
letter, and he at once went to Essex Street. Several clerks
were writing in the office. A lad came forward to ask him
his business.
" I want to speak for a moment to Mr Harford."
The lad went up to one of the desks, and the clerk came
forward.
"I don't know whether you remember me," Cuthbert said ;
" my name is Hartington."
" I remember you very well, Mr Hartington, though you
are changed a good deal."
" I have had a sharp illness, but I am getting over it now.
I particularly wished to speak to you about a matter in con-
nection with my father's affairs. I am staying at the Charing
Cross Hotel, and should feel very much obliged if, when
you leave hero, you would come round for a few minutes."
202 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" With pleasure, sir, but I shall not get away till
seven."
" That will do very well," Cuthbert said ; " I would not
have troubled you had it not been important."
A few minutes past seven the clerk was shown into
Cuthbertfs room. After asking him to take a chair Cuthbert
said, —
" As you are aware, Mr Harford, my loss of the Faircloee
estates arose from the unfortunate circumstances of my father
having taken a few shares in the Abchester and County Bank.
The matter has always been a puzzle to me. I have been
abroad for the last eighteen months, and now, having returned,
am anxious to get to the bottom of the matter if I can.
The transfer of the shares from Cumming, the manager of the
bank, to my father, was signed at Mr Brander's office, I
fancy. At anyrate, you and Mr Levison were the attesting
witnesses to my father's signature. Have you any memory of
the transaction, and would you object to tell what took
placet"
" I remember about the transfer, Mr Hartington, because,
when the crash came, everything connected with it was
talked over. In point of fact, we did not see Mr Hartington's
signature actually attached. He called at the office one day,
and just after he had left Mr Brander called us in and said,
'Please witness Mr Hartington's signature.' Of course, we
both knew it very well, and witnessed it. I did not notice
the names on the body of the transfer, though, of course, I
knew from the appearance of the document what it was, but
Mr Brander just pointed out where we were to sign, and we
signed. The only thing I noticed was that, as I wrote, my eye
•fell on the top line, and I saw that it was dated ten days
earlier."
" Was that unusual t "
"No, documents are often dated at the time they are
drawn up, although they may not be signed for some days
later. Of course, it is not exactly regular, but it often
happens. A form is filled up, and one or other of the parties
may be away or unable to sign. I happened to notice it, but
it did not strike me in any way."
And were you often called upon to attest signatures in this
way without seeing them written 1 "
There was nothing unusual in it. As a general rule, we
were called into the room when a signature had to be witnessed,
but it occasionally happened in the case where it was a well-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 203
known client, and we were perfectly acquainted with the
signature, that we did not sign until he had left the
office."
"Do you remember if such a thing ever happened any
other time in the case of my father."
"Only once, I think, and that was afterwards. We
signed then as witnesses to his signature to a legal document.
I don't know what its nature was. It was done in the
same manner directly Mr Hartington had driven away."
" It might have been a mortgage deed."
"It might have been, sir, but as I saw only the last
page of it, and as there were but three or four lines of
writing at the top of the page, followed by the signatures,
I have no idea even of the nature of the document."
" May I ask if you have left the office at Abchester on
pleasant terms with Mr Brander and his partner, for, of
course, you know that he still takes an interest in the
firm."
" Oh, yes, it is still carried on as Brander <fe Jackson, and
Brander still goes down there for an hour or two every day.
Yes, I left on pleasant terms enough, that is to say, I left of
my own free wilL I have for some time wished to come up
to London, and hearing through a friend in this office of a
vacancy at Barrington <fc Smiles, I applied, and was fortunate
enough to get it"
Cuthbert sat silent for a time. So far the answers he had
received tallied precisely with Chiinming's theory. He did not
see how he could carry the inquiry farther here at present.
The clerk, who was watching him closely, was the first to
speak.
" I own, Mr Hartington, that I do not in the slightest
degree understand the gist of your questions, but I can well
imagine that at the present moment you are wondering
whether it would be safe to ask farther. I will, therefore,
tell you at once that one of my reasons for leaving Mr
Brander's employment was that I did not like his way of
doing business, nor did I like the map himself. The general
opinion of him was that he was a public-spirited and kind-
hearted man. I can only say that our opinion of him in the
office was a very different one. He was a hard man, and fre-
quently, when pretending to be most lenient to tenants on the
estates to which he was agent, or to men on whose lands he
held mortgages, he strained the law to its utmost limits. I
will not say more than that, but I could quote cases in which
204 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
be pat on the screw in a way that was to my mind most ab-
solutely unjustifiable, and I had been for a very Jong time
trying to get out of his office before the opportunity came. I
may also say, Mr Hartington, that I had the highest respect
for your father. He always had a kind word when he came
into the office, and regularly at Christmas he handed Levison
and myself a cheque for ten pounds each, for, as he said, the
trouble his business gave us. I tell you this in order that
you may feel you can safely repose any confidence in me, and
that my advice will be wholly at your service if you should
think fit to give me your confidence in this matter, whatever
it may be. But, at the same time, I must say it would be still
better if you put yourself in the hands of some respectable
firm of solicitors. I do not suggest my own principals more
than others, although few men stand higher in the profession."
" There are reasons against my laying the matter before
any firms of solicitors, and the chief of these is that my hands
are tied in a peculiar manner, and that I am unable to carry
it through to its natural sequence, but I will very thankfully
accept your offer, and will frankly tell you the nature of my
suspicions, for they are nothing more than suspicions. I may
first say that the news that my father was a shareholder in
the Abchester Bank astounded me. For a time I put it down
to one of those sudden impulses that are unaccountable, but I
may tell you, and here my confidence begins, that I have come
across Cumming, the bank manager, and from him have ob-
tained some curious particulars of this transaction — particulars
that have excited my suspicions.
" You wondered why I asked you those questions. I will
tell you. You did not see my father affix his signature to
either of those documents. The one being certainly the trans-
fer of some of Cumming's shares to him, the other being, as I
believe, the mortgage that, as you doubtless heard, Mr Brander
held over my father's estate. How could you tell those two
signatures were not clever forgeries?"
Mr Harford gave a start of surprise.
" God bless me, sir," he exclaimed, " such an idea never
entered my mind ! "
"That I can quite understand," Cuthbert said quietly,
" but you must admit it is possible."
" But in that case," the clerk said, after a pause, " Brander
himself must have been the forger, and surely that is not
possible. I fancy I know Mr Brander pretty well, but I
should never have dreamt him capable of forgery. Not be-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 205
cause I have a high opinion of his honesty, but because I
believe him to be a cautious man, and besides, I do not see
what possible interest he could have had in ruining your
father by putting his name on to the register of shareholders.
Even if he had an interest in so doing, the risk of detection
would be frightful, for not only would the matter be known
to the directors, but, as you are aware, any shareholder has
a right, on the payment of a nominal fee, to inspect the list of
shareholders."
"Precautions were taken against this," Cuthbert said.
" Just glance through this paper, which has been signed and
sworn to by Camming in proper form at Brussels."
Mr Harford, ran his eye over the document, and then read
it through carefully, word by word.
"This is an extraordinary statement)" he said gravely.
" Do you believe it, Mr Hartington ? "
" I believe it implicitly. I had the man practically at my
mercy. As you know, there is a warrant out for his arrest,
and a word from me would have set the police on his track
and led to an application for his extradition. Therefore he
had every motive for telling me the truth, and I am as certain
as I can be that he did so."
" If so, there can be no question that Mr Brander had
some very strong reason indeed for preventing the knowledge
of this transfer having ever been made from being known ;
but, in any case, it must have come out when the bank failed,
and of course he must have had a pretty accurate knowledge
of the state of its affairs."
"Yes, but it may be that he had an equally accurate
knowledge of the state of my father's health. That would
account for what Cumming says as to his offer to bolster up
the bank for a time, and for a retraction of that offer within
a few days after my father's death."
"But why on earth should he have run all this risk
merely to ruin you 1 He had no cause of enmity against you,
had he, surf
" None, so far as I knew ; but now we come to the other
document, where you witnessed the signature without having
seen it signed. If the signature on the transfer was a forgery,
why not that on the mortgage, if it was the mortgage. If so,
you see the motive of the transfer. The smash of the bank
brought a good many estates into the market and they would
consequently go cheap. Not only would he get it far below
its value, but by reason of this pretended mortgage he would
206 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
get a further drawback of fifteen thousand pounds from the*
price he would pay as its purchase."
"Good heavens, Mr Hartingtont You take my breath
away ! Have you any reason whatever for believing that the
mortgage was a bogus one V
" None, beyond the fact that I was ignorant of its exist-
ence. I was so surprised that I not only wrote to Brander
himself but to the official liquidator. The former said he had
advanced the money at the urgent request of my father, who
told him he wished to settle a very long-standing claim upon
him, and that he desired that the transaction should be kept
an absolute secret. The official liquidator said he had gone
carefully into the question of the mortgage, that it was of
three years' standing, that the receipts Mr Brander had given
my father for the half-yearly interest on the money had been
found among my father's papers, and that Brander had more-
over produced a document, showing that he had sold securities
to that amount, and had drawn the money from his bankers
in town by a single cheque for fifteen thousand pounds. Do
you remember whether such a deed was ever drawn up in the
officer'
" Certainly it was not, but you see that proves nothing,
for it was to be kept a secret. Brander might have had it
drawn up by some solicitor in London."
" I see that. Well, then, this deed, whatever it was, that
you witnessed, was that drawn up in the office % "
" No. I remember Levison and I talked it over and said it
was curious that a deed between Brander and Mr Hartington
should not have been given to us as usual to be drawn up."
" You witnessed his signature then as well as that of my
father?"
" Yes, I have a particular reason for remembering that,
for I had sat down hurriedly after he had signed it, and
dipping my pen too deeply in the ink, made a blot. It was
no doubt a stupid thing to do, but Brander was so unreason-
ably angry about it, and blew me up so roughly that I made
up my mind there and then to stand it no longer, and wrote
that very evening to my friend in my present office the letter
which led to my getting the situation there two or three
months later."
" That blot may be a most important one," Cuthbert said.
" If it occurs on the mortgage deed on Fairclose, it is clear
that document was not* as it professes on its face, executed
three years earlier."
A WOMAN OF THE' COMMUNE 207
"That would be so indeed/' Mr Harford exclaimed ex-
citedly ; " it would be a piece of evidence there would be do
getting over, and that fact would account for Branded anger,
which seemed to me was out of all proportion to the accident.
If you could show that the mortgage deed on which Brander
claimed is really the document we witnessed, it would be all
up with him. As to the receipts for the payments of interest
they proved nothing as they were, of course, in Brander's own
handwriting and were found where he put them. If you
could find out that Brander had knowledge of Mr Harting-
ton's state of health about the time that transfer was produced
you would strengthen your case. It seems to me that he
must have got an inkling of it just before he filled up
the transfer, and that he ante-dated it a week so that it
would appear to have been signed before he learnt about his
illness. I can see no other reason for the ante-dating it."
" That may have been the reason," Cuthbert agreed. " It
was one of the points for which Camming and I, talking it
over, could see no motive. Certainly he would wish that if
anyone said to him you ought to have prevented Mr Harting-
ton buying those shares when you knew that he was in a pre-
carious state of health, to be able to reply that when the
shares were bought he had not the slightest idea of his being
in anything but the best of health."
" At anyrate I will see Dr Edwards and ascertain exactly
when he did tell Brander. He is certain to be able, by turn-
ing back to his visiting-book, to ascertain when he himself
became aware of my father's danger, and is likely to remember
whether he told Brander at once."
" But even without that, Mr Hartington, if you can prove
that question of the date of the deed you have him completely
on the hip. Still, it will be a very difficult case to carry
through, especially if you cannot get dimming to come into
court,"
" But, as I began by telling you, I cannot carry out the
case to a legitimate conclusion, nor do I want the intervention
of lawyers in the matter. I want the estate back again if I
can get it, but rather than this matter should be made public
I would not lift a little finger to regain the property. It
happens," and he smiled drily, " that Mr Brander's reputation
is almost as dear to me as it is to him, for I am going to
marry his daughter. We should not feel quite comfortable
together, you see, at the thought that the father was working
•out a sentence of penal servitude."
208 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
" That is an unfortunate combination indeed, Mr Harting-
ton," Mr Harford said seriously, though he could not repress
a smile of amusement at the unexpected news. "Then it
seems to me, sir, that Brander may, in fact, snap his fingers
at any threat you may hold out, for he would feel certain
that you would never take any steps that would make the
matter public."
" Fortunately," Cuthbert replied, " Mr Brander is wholly
unaware of the little fact T have mentioned, and is likely to
remain so until matters are finally arranged between us."
"That is indeed fortunate. Then I understand, Mr
Hartington, your object is to obtain so strong a proof of
Brander's share in this affair as will place you in a position
to go down to him and force him into some satisfactory
arrangement with you."
" That is it, and it is clear the first step will be to see the
official liquidator and to obtain a sight of the mortgage."
"I suppose you knew that he is the head of the firm
of Cox, Tuke & Aitkinson, in Coleman Street. I sug-
gest that the best plan will be to see him to-morrow,
and to make an appointment with him for you to inspect
the mortgage. You would wish me, of course, to be with
you when you do so."
"Thank you very much. I will go round there in the-
morning, and will call at your office afterwards and let you
know if I have arranged the matter, and the time at which I
am to call to inspect the mortgage."
CHAPTER XIX
Cuthbert, on calling upon the head of the great firm of
accountants, was courteously received by him.
" Of course, I remember your name, Mr Hartington, with
reference to the Abchester Bank failure. It seemed a par-
ticular hard case, and I know our Mr Wanklyn, who had
charge of the winding-up, took particular interest in it, and
personally consulted me more than once about it, though I
cannot exactly recall the circumstances now. What is it that
you say you want to examine % "
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 209
11 1 want to have a look at the deed of mortgage that Mr
Brander, who purchased the property, had upon it."
"Yes, I remember now, that was one of the points on
which Mr Wanklyn consulted me. It struck him at first
sight as being rather a remarkable transaction, and he went
into it carefully, but it was all proved to be correct to his
satisfaction. It is unfortunate that the system of registering
mortgages is not enforced everywhere as it is in London — it
would save a great deal of trouble in such cases as the present."
" Are the affairs of the bank quite wound up ? "
" Dear me, no x Mr Hartington. Why, it is but two years
since the failure. There are properties to be realised that
cannot be forced on the market without ruinous loss. There
are assets which will not be available until after death; it
is not the assets of the bank, but the assets of individual
shareholders and debtors of the bank that have to be collected.
I should say it will be at least twenty years before the last
dividend will be divided. I am sure Mr Wanklyn will be
happy to let you see any document you desire. I will take
you to him."
Mr Wanklyn had a room on the same floor with his prin-
cipal, and Mr Cox took Cuthbert and introduced him to him.
"Mr Hartington wants to have a look at the mortgage
that Brander held on the late Mr Harrington's estate. You
remember we had several talks about it at the time, and you
took a good deal of pains about the matter. Mr Hartington
wrote to me about it from Paris, if you recollect, and you
replied to him in my name. I will leave him with yon to talk
it over."
" Have you any particular reason for wanting to see the
deed, Mr Hartington!" the accountant asked, when Mr Cox
had left the room. " I only ask because I suppose the docu-
ments connected with the winding-up of the bank must weigh
several tons, and it will take a considerable time for a clerk to
hunt out the one in question. If you have really any motive
for examining it I will get it looked out for you by to-morrow,
but it will put us to a great deal of trouble."
" I am really anxious to see it for a special purpose, Mr
Wanklyn. I have reason to believe there was some irregu-
larity in the matter."
"I am afraid it will make but little difference to you
whether it was so or not, Mr Hartington. The creditors of
the bank have been the sufferers if there was any irregularity
in it"
O
210 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"Yes, I suppose so, and yet I assure you it is not a mere
matter of sentiment with me. Other questions might turn
upon it."
" Then I will certainly have it ready for you by to-morrow
— give me until the afternoon. Will four o'clock suit
your
" Very well. I will, with your permission, bring with mo
one of the attesting witnesses to my father's signature. He
was one of Mr Brander's clerks at the time."
Mr Wanklyn looked up keenly.
" Tou can bring whom you like," he said, after a pause,
"and I will put a room at your disposal, but of course the
document cannot be taken away.' 1
" Certainly not, Mr Wanklyn, and I am very much obliged
to you for granting my request."
Cuthbert called for James Harford at the hour at which
he had said he went out to lunch, and told him of the appoint-
ment he had made.
"I have been thinking it over, Mr Hartington, and I
should recommend you to bring Cooper with you."
" Who is Cooper ¥"
"He is one of our greatest experts on handwriting. I
don't know whether you have any of your father's letters in
your possession 1 "
" Yes, I have several. I brought over the last two I had
from him, thinking they might be useful."
"Well, his opinion on the signatures may be valuable,
though, as a rule, experts differ so absolutely that their evi-
dence is always taken with considerable doubt ; but it is part
of his business to look out for erasures and alterations. It
is quite possible Brander may have removed that blot, and
that he has done it so well that neither you nor I could detect
it ; but whether he did it with a knife or chemicals, you may
be sure that Cooper will be able to spot it, whichever he used.
I have very little doubt that your suspicions are correct,
and those parchments were really the pretended mortgage
deeds. If you like, I will go round and see Cooper at once,
and arrange for him to meet us in Coleman Street to-morrow
at four o'clock."
"Thank you very much. The idea of the blot being
erased had never struck me."
The next day, Cuthbert met James Harford and Mr
Cooper at the door of the accountants', and, after being in*
troduced by the clerk to the expert, they went up together.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 211
On giving his name in the office, a clerk came across to
him.
" If yon will come with me, gentlemen, 1 will lead yon to
the room that is ready for yon. This is the document that
you desire to sea"
As soon as tbey were alone they sat down at the table and
opened the deed.
" How is it for size V 9 Cuthbert asked.
" It is about the same size, but that is nothing. All deeds
are one of two or three sizes of parchment. The last page is
the thing."
Cuthbert turned to it. There were but four lines of
writing at the top of the page, and below these came the
signatures.
" Of course I could not swear to it, Mr Hartington, but it
is precisely in accordance with my recollection. There were
either three, four or five lines at the top — certainly not more
than five, certainly not less than three. As you see, there is
no blot to my signature. Now, Mr Cooper, will you be kind
enough to compare the signatures of these two letters with the
same name there 1 "
Mr Cooper took the letter and deed to a desk by the
window, examined them carefully, then took out a large
magnifying glass from his pocket and again examined
them.
" I should say they are certainly not by the same hand,"
he said decisively. " I do not call them even good imitations.
They are nothing like as good as would be made by any expert
in signing other people's names. The tail of the ' J ' in James
in these two letters runs up into the 'a,' but, as you will
notice, the pen is taken off and the letter ' a ' starts afresh.
Here, on the contrary, you see the pen has not been taken
off, but the upstroke of the ' J ' runs on continuously into the
'a.' More naturally, it would be just the other way. In
these two letters the writer would be signing his name more
hurriedly than to a formal deed, and would be much more
likely to run his letters into each other than when making a
formal signature on parchment.
"Looking through this glass you will observe also that,
although the letters run on together, there is a slight thicken-
ing in the upstroke between each letter — as if the writer had
paused, though without taking his pen off, to examine the
exact method of making the next letter in a copy lying be-
fore him. In the surname there are half a dozen points of
212 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
difference. To begin with, the whole writing slopes less than-
in the other signatures. In both your father's letters, the-
cross of tbe first ' t ' is much lower than usual, and almost
touches the top of the ' r ' and * L' The same peculiarity is
shown in the second ' t ' in both letters, while on tbe deed the
* t's ' are crossed a good deal higher. The whole word is more
cramped, the flourish at the end of the c n' is longer but less
free. In the capital letter the two downstrokes are a good
deal closer together. There has-been the same pause between
each letter as those I pointed out in the Christian name, and,
indeed, tbe glass shows you the pen was altogether taken off"
the paper between the ' o ' and the * n/ as the writer studied
that final flourish. My opinion is that it is not only a forgery,
but a clumsy one, and would be detected at once by anyone
who had the original signatures before him. I will even go
so far as to say that I doubt if any bank clerk well acquainted
with Mr Harrington's signature would pass it."
" And now for the blot," Cuthbert said. " There was a-
blot some where near the signature of Mr Harford. M
" Don't tell me where it was, Mr Harford. I would rather
not know its exact position."
With the aid of the magnifying glass, the expert carefully
examined the parchment, and then held it up to the light.
" The blot was in the middle of the signature, and involved
the letters « a ' and ' r.' Is that right ? "
" That is right, Mr Cooper. He used blotting-paper to it
at once, and it did not show up very strongly."
" An eraser has been used and a chemical of some sort, and
the two letters involved in the blot have been rewritten, or, at
anyrate, touched up, but they have run a little. You can see
it quite plainly through this lens. The difference between
tbeir outline and that of the other letters is quite distinct ;
and by holding the parchment so that the light falls across
it, you can see that although it has been rubbed, probably-
by the handle of a penknife, to give it a gloss, the difference
between that gloss and the rest of the surface is distinctly
visible."
" I see that," the clerk said, " and I should be quite pre-
pared to swear now, Mr Hartington, that this is the document
I signed some three weeks after I signed as witness to the
transfer."
"That is quite good enough, I think, 19 Cuthbert said.
" Thank you, Mr Cooper, you have quite settled the doubt I
had in my mind. I do not think I shall have occasion to ask
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 213
you to go into court over this matter ; bat should I have to do
so, I will, of course, give you due notice."
After paying the expert's fee, Cuthbert went into the office
and handed tbe document over to the clerk from whom he had
received it.
" Would you kindly put it where it can be got at easily
should it be wanted again ? It is of the highest importance."
After parting with Mr Cooper at the door, Cuthbert
walked westward with Mr Harford.
" So far, you have proved that your suspicions are correct,
sir, and I have not the least doubt that your father's signature
to the transfer was, like this, a forgery. May I ask what step
you propose to take next 1 Of course, if your object was not
to prevent publicity, your course would be clear. You would
first apply for a warrant for the arrest of Brander on a charge
of double forgery. When that was proved, you would have to
take steps to apply to have it declared that your father's name
was wrongfully placed among the shareholders of the bank,
•and then endeavour to obtain a decree ordering the liquidator
to re-imburse the proceeds of the sale of the estate and all
other moneys received by him from your father's executor.
Lastly, you would apply to have the sale annulled, not only
on the ground of fraud on the part of Mr Brander, but be-
cause the liquidators could not give a title. Of course, in all
these steps you would have to be guided by a firm of high
standing. But as you particularly wish to avoid publicity, I
suppose your first step will be to confront Brander with the
proofs of his guilt. I suppose you would wish me to go down
with you. I shall be able to do so without difficulty, for I
took no holiday last year, and can, therefore, get two or three
■days whenever I choose to ask for them."
" Thank you, Mr Harford. It will certainly be desirable
that I should be backed up by your presence. The first thing
I shall do will be to go down to Abchester to see Dr Edwards.
I want to ascertain from him when he first knew of my father
having heart disease. That he did know it before his death I
am aware, though, at my father's particular request, he ab-
stained from informing me of the fact. He may also know
when Brander first became acquainted with it. It will
strengthen my case much if I am in a position to show that
it was after he had the knowledge that my father's death
might take place at any moment that he committed these
frauds. As soon as I find this out, which will probably be
in a few hours after my arrival there, I will send you a
214 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
telegram. I am anxious to lose no time, because I do not
want Brander to know of my arrival in Abchester until I
confront him. If I could find out what he did with the
fifteen thousand pounds he proved to the liquidator that he
had drawn out on the day this mortgage was said to have
been executed, I should have the chain of evidence complete ;
but I don't see how that is to be got at"
"It might be got at by advertisements, Mr Hartington.
Fifteen thousand pounds is a large sum, and were you to
advertise a reward of a hundred pounds for information as to-
whom Mr Brander paid the sum of fifteen thousand pounds
on the date named in the mortgage, it is quite probable you
might obtain the information."
"I might get it that way, but unless it is absolutely
necessary, I would rather not do so. Were I to advertise
before I see him, he might have his attention drawn to it,
and it would put him on his guard. I can but resort to it
afterwards if he refuses to come to terms."
Accordingly, the next day Outhbert went down to Ab-
chester, travelling by a train that arrived there after dark,
and, taking a fly, drove to Dr Edwards'.
The servant took in his name, and the doctor at once
hurried out into the hall.
" Why, my dear Cuthbert, I am glad indeed to see you,
though, from your letter, I had hardly hoped to do so for some
little time. Come in, come in ; my wife will be delighted to
see you. Dinner is just on the table, so you have arrived at
precisely the right moment."
" Dear me, Mr Hartington, you are looking terribly ill,*
Mrs Edwards exclaimed, after the first greetings were over.
" I have been ill, but I am quite convalescent now. I did
rather a foolish thing, doctor. I joined a corps of Franc
Tireurs, raised in the schools and studios, and the Germans
put a bullet through my body. It was a very near squeak of
it, but, fortunately, I was taken to the American ambulance^
which was far the best in Paris, and they pulled me through.
It is but ten days since I was discharged cured, but, of course,
it will be some little time before I quite get up my strength
again."
"Where was it, Cuthbert? Then you were fortunate
indeed," he went on as Cuthbert laid his finger on the spot ;
" the odds were twenty to one against you. Did they get the
bullet out?"
" It went out by itself, doctor. We were at close quarters.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 215
in the village of Champigny when we made our sortie on the
first of December, so the ball went right through, and almost
by a miracle, as the surgeon said, without injuring anything
vital. There is the dinner-bell, doctor. I will go into your
sur gery and wash my hands. I remember the ways of the
place, you see."
During dinner-time the talk was entirely of the siege.
When the meal was over the doctor and Cuthbert went to
the former's study, where the doctor lighted a cigar and Cuth-
bert his pipe.
" How are they getting on at Fairclose t " Cuthbert asked
carelessly.
The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
" 1 should say they heartily regret having changed their
quarters. Of course, it was her doing that they did so. She
is a curious mixture of cleverness and silliness. Her weak
point is her ambition to be in county society, and to drop the
town altogether. She has always been hankering for that.
No doubt it is partly for the sake of the girls — at least, she
always lays it to that. But when I used to attend them as
babies she was always complaining to me that the air of the
town did not suit her. However, so far from gaining by the
exchange she has lost.
" As the leading solicitor here, and I may say the leading
man in the place, Brander went a good deal into the county.
Of course his wife did belong to a county family, and no doubt
that helped to open the doors of many good houses to him.
Well, he is in the county now, but he is not of the county.
There was naturally a lot of bad feeling about the smash of
that bank. A good many men besides yourself were ab-
solutely ruined, and as everyone banked there, there was
scarce a gentleman in the county, or a tradesman in the town,
who was not hit more or less severely. The idea was that
Brander, whose name had been a tower of strength to the
bank, had been grossly negligent in allowing its affairs to get
into such a state. I think they were wrong, for I imagine
from what I heard that Brander was correct in saying that
he was not in any way in the counsels of the directors, but
confined himself to strictly legal business, such as investigating
titles and drawing up mortgages, and that he was only present
at the Board meetings when he was consulted on some legal
questions.
" Still there is no stemming the tide of popular opinion.
Abcheeter demanded a scapegoat. Cumming had disappeared
216 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
the five directors were ruined, and so they fell upon Brander.
He could have got over that — indeed, he has got over it as far
as the town is concerned — but his purchase of Fairclose set
the county against him. They considered that he got it for
twenty thousand pounds below its value, which was true
enough; the other estates that went into the market were
all sold at an equal depreciation, but it was felt somehow that
he at least ought not to have profited by the disaster, and
altogether there was so strong a feeling against him that the
county turned its back on Fairclose."
" By the way, doctor, can you tell me when and how you
first became aware of the state of my father ? The loss was so
recent that I asked but . few questions about it when I was
here, though you told me that you had known it for some
little time."
" I can give you the exact date," the doctor said, stretch-
ing out his hand for a book on his desk. " Yes, here it is ;
it was the 23d of March. His man rode down with the news
that he had found him insensible. Of course, I went up as
hard as my horse could carry me. He had recovered conscious-
ness when I got there, and his first request was that I should
say nothing about his illness. When I examined him I found
that his heart was badly diseased, so badly that I told him
frankly he had not many weeks to live, and that, as the
slightest shock might prove fatal, I absolutely forbade him to
ride. He said he hated to be made a fuss of. I urged him at
least to let me write to you, but he positively refused, saying
that you would be greatly cut up about it, and that he would
much rather go on as he was. The only exception he made
was Brander. He was the only soul to whom I spoke of it.
I called in and told him directly I got back here, and he went
that afternoon to Fairclose."
The date was conclusive to Cuthbert. The transfer had
been ante-dated some three weeks ; and the two clerks, there-
fore, attested it on the 24th or 25th of March, so Brander
had lost no time in conceiving his plan and carrying it into
execution.
"By the way, doctor," he said after a pause, "I should
be glad if you will not mention to anyone that I am here. I
don't want people to be coming to see me, and I would
especially rather not see Brander. I never did like the man '
from the time I was a boy, and I don't think I could stand
either his business manner or his hearty one. I thought I
would come down and have the pleasure of a chat with you
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 217
again for a day or two, but I don't mean to stir out while I
am here."
Tbe next morning Outhbert obtained a telegraph form
from the doctor, and sent his man with it to the post-office.
It was directed to Harford, and contained only tbe words,
" Come down this evening if possible. Put up at the * George. 1
Come round in the morning to Dr Edwards. "
Cuthbert was really glad of the day's rest, and felt all the
better for it. On the following morning Harford's name was
brought in just as breakfast was over.
" It is the man who was Brander's clerk, doctor," he said.
" I met him in town, and he has come down to see me on a
little matter of business."*
" Take him into the consulting-room, Cuthbert. I am not
likely to have any patients come for the next half-hour."
4< That settles it, sir," the clerk said, when he heard from
Cuthbert of the date which he had obtained from the doctor ;
" though I cannot swear to a day."
"I hear that Brander comes to his office about eleven
o'clock. He is sure to be there, for I hear that Jackson has gone
away for a few days. I will go at half-past. If you will call
here for me at that time we will walk there together. I will
go in by myself. I will get you to call two or three minutes
after me, so that I can call you into his private room if
necessary."
" You have soon done with him," the doctor said as Cuth-
bert returned to the breakfast-room.
"I have given him some instructions, and he will call
again presently," Cuthbert replied. " By the way, we were
talking of Brander. How have his two girls turned out ? I
mean the two younger ones. I met Mary in Paris during the
siege."
" Ah I I heard from Brander that she was shut up there,
and I was wondering whether you had run against her. He
is very savage at what he calls her vagaries. Did she get
through the starvation all right 1 "
" Oh, yes ! She was living in a French family, and, like
most of the middle class, they had laid in a fair stock of pro-
visions when it became evident the place was to be besieged,
and, though tbe supply of meat was stinted, I don't think
there was any lack of other things."
"I liked Mary," the doctor said warmly; "she was a
straightforward, sensible girl till she got that craze about
women's rights in her mind. In all other respects she was a
218 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
very nice girl, and differed from the rest of them as much as
chalk from cheese."
" And what are the sisters like t M
" They are like their mother, vain and affected, only with-
out her cleverness. They feel bitterly their position at Fair-
close, and make matters worse by their querulous complain-
ings. I never go into the house unless I am sent for pro-
fessionally, for their peevishness and bad temper are intolerable.
If things had gone differently, and they had made good mar-
riages, they might have turned out pleasant girls enough. As
it is, they are as utterly disagreeable as any young women I
ever came across."
" Then Brander must have a very bad time of it."
"Yes; but from what I have seen when I have been
there, I don't think they show off before him much. I fancy
Branded temper has not improved of late. Of course in
public he is the same as ever, but I think he lets himself loose
at home, and I should say that the girls are thoroughly afraid
of him. I have noticed anyhow that when he is at home,
when I call, they are on their best behaviour, and there is not
a word of any unpleasantness or discontent from their lips.
However, I suppose the feeling against Brander will die out
in time. I think it was unjust, though I don't say it was not
quite natural ; but when the soreness wears off a bit, people
will begin to think they have been rather hard on Brander.
There's the surgery bell ; now I must leave you to your own
devices."
At half-past eleven James Harford called, and Cuthbert at
once went out with him, and they walked towards Mr
Brander's office, which was but a couple of hundred yards
away.
" How do you do, Mr Levison ? " Cuthbert asked as he
entered. u Is Mr Brander alone ? "
" Yes, he is alone, Mr Hartington. I am glad to see you
again, sir."
With a nod Cuthbert walked to the door of the inner
office, opened it and went in. Mr Brander started, half rose
from his chair with the exclamation, —
" My dear — I " then he stopped.
There was something in the expression of Cuthbert's face
that checked the words on his lips.
" We need not begin with any greetings, Mr Brander,'*
Cuthbert said coldly. " I have come to tell you a story."
"This is a very extraordinary manner of address, Mr
▲ WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 219
Hartington," the lawyer said in a blustering tone, though
Cuthbert noticed his colour had paled, and that there was a
nervous twitching about the corners of his lips. Brander had
felt there was danger, and the blow had come so suddenly
that he had not had time to brace himself to meet it. With-
out paying any attention to the words, Cuthbert seated him-
self and repeated, —
" I have come to tell you a story, Mr Brander. There was
once a man who was solicitor, agent and friend of a certain
landowner. One day he had heard from his client's doctor
that he had had an attack of heart disease, and that his life
was only worth a few weeks' purchase ; also that the land-
owner desired that an absolute silence should be observed as
to his illness. Then, like another unjust steward, the lawyer
sat down to think how he could best turn an honest penny
by the news. It was rather a tough job. It would involve
forgery among other things, and there was a good deal of risk,
but by playing a bold game it might be managed."
"What do you mean by this]" the lawyer exclaimed
furiously.
"Calm yourself, Mr Brander. There is no occasion for
you to fit the cap on to your own head yet. If you think there
is anything in my story of a libellous nature you are at liberty
to call your two clerks in to listen to it. Well, sir, the scheme
this lawyer I am telling you about worked out, did credit to
bis genius — it was complicated, bold and novel. It happened
he was solicitor to a bank. He knew the bank was hopelessly
involved, that it could last but a few weeks longer, and that
its failure would involve the whole of the shareholders in
absolute ruin. If, therefore, he were to contrive to place his
client's name on the register of shareholders, that point would
be achieved. Accordingly, having forms by him, he filled one
up, forging the name of his client. It would not have done
to have had the date of the transfer later than the seizure of
that gentleman, for manifestly no man aware that he had but
a few days or weeks to live would have entered on a fresh
investment. He therefore ante-dated the transfer by some
three weeks.
" As to the witnesses to the forged signature there was no
difficulty. He waited for a few days till bis client called upon
him, and then, after his departure, called in his two clerks,
who witnessed the signature as a matter of course — an
irregular proceeding, doubtless, but not altogether uncommon.
That matter concluded, he went to the bank. It was above
I
220 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUKE
all things important that none of the directors should be
cognisant of his client having been put on the register, as,
being friends of that gentleman, they might have mentioned
the matter to him when they met him. Having the manager
a good deal under his thumb, from bis knowledge of the state
of affairs, he requested him to pass the transfer with others at
the next Board meeting, in such a way that it should be
signed as a matter of routine, without the names being
noticed, suggesting that the manager should transfer some of
the shares he held. This little business was satisfactorily
performed, and the name passed unnoticed on to the register.
There was one thing further to be done in this direction,
namely, that the bank should not fail before the death of his
client, and he therefore requested the manager to let them
know should there be any pressure imminent on the bank's
resources, offering to get some of the mortgages it held trans-
ferred, and so to bolster up the bank for a considerable time.
As a matter of fact, he did raise twenty thousand pounds in
this manner, and so kept the bank going until after his client's
death, when he withdrew the offer, there being no longer any
occasion to keep it on its legs. You follow this I hope, Mr
Brander. It is interesting for ingenuity and boldness."
The lawyer made no reply. As Cuthbert spoke the ruddy
colour on his cheeks had been replaced by a ghastly pallor.
An expression of bewilderment had come across his face, the
perspiration stood out in big drops on his forehead.
" Thus far you see, Mr Brander," Cuthbert went on, " the
first part of the scheme had been ably carried out, but it still
remained to reap the benefit of this ingenuity. In the first
place it was certain that the estate of his client would, on the
failure of the bank, come into the market. Under such
circumstances, and seeing there would be widespread ruin in
the county, the estate would fetch far under its value. It
would be advisable to get it cheaper still, and this could be
managed by the production of a mortgage upon it, and by the
invention of a plausible tale to account for that mortgage
having been kept a secret even from the dead man's son. As
to the deed itself the matter was easy enough ; the document
would only have to be drawn up by himself, or in some office
in London, the signature of his client affixed as before, and
the two clerks be called in to witness it
"It would be necessary to satisfy the official liquidator,
however, who might make some inquiries concerning it. It
happened that some time before the lawyer had had occasion
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 221
to pay over the sum of fifteen thousand pounds, as he would
be able to prove by his bank-book. Therefore fifteen thou-
sand pounds was the sum fixed upon for the mortgage, and the
date of that document was made to coincide with that of the
payment of that amount. It was easy enough to place among
the dead man's papers receipts for the half-yearly payment of
this interest. It was not necessary to show that his client
had paid these sums by cheques, as they would, of course,
have been deducted from the amount to be handed over by
him as agent to his client.
" The scheme worked admirably. After the death of his
client the bank was allowed to break, the estates fell into the
hands of the official receiver of the bank, the mortgage was
presented, and the proofs considered satisfactory. The lawyer
bought the estate for some twenty thousand pounds below
its value, and this with the mortgage brought the purchase
money down from seventy thousand pounds to half that
sum. The story is interesting, and if anyone should doubt
it, I am in a position to prove it up to the hilt. I have
the sworn statement of the bank manager as to the
particulars of the interview with him, the injunction
that the transfer should be passed unnoticed, the offer to
support the bank, and tbe partial fulfilment of that offer. I
have the opinion of an expert that the signature is not only a
forgery, but an exceedingly clumsy one. I have the statement
of one of the clerks that the signature of both the transfer
and the mortgage was witnessed by him and his fellow-clerk
in obedience to the orders of the solicitor, but they did not
see the signature affixed.
" Lastly, I have a singular piece of evidence that the mort-
gage was signed not on the date it purported, but shortly after
the seizure of the client. The clerk might have had some
difficulty in swearing that this mortgage was the document
that he signed as the signatures were written on the last sheet
of the parchment, and he saw nothing of the contents. But it
happened that there were only four lines of writing on that
page, and there are four on tbe mortgage in the hands of the
official liquidator, but this is not the crucial point. The clerk,
in making his signature, dropped a blot of ink on the parch-
ment. Now it was clear that this blot of ink might prove the
means of identifying this document, and of proving the time
at which it was signed; therefore it was necessary that it
should be erased. This the lawyer proceeded to do, and so
cleverly that an unpractised eye would not detect it. The
222 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
expert, however, though not knowing where the blot had
fallen, detected the erasure at once, and noticed that in erasing
it two of the letters of the name had been involved, and these
had been retouched so as to make them the same darkness as
the rest. The chain of evidence is therefore complete."
The last blow had proved too crushing, There was a
sudden rush of blood to his face, and with a gasping sob Mr
Brander fell back in his chair insensible. Cuthbert ran to the
door and opened it.
" Mr Levison, your employer is taken ill. Send the other
clerk to fetch Dr Edwards at once. He will not have
started on his rounds yet. Bring some water in here."
With the assistance of the clerk, Cuthbert loosened the
lawyer's necktie and collar, swept the papers off the table, and
laid him upon it, folding up his greatcoat and placing it under
his head.
CHAPTER XX
" Apoplexy ! " Dr Edwards exclaimed, as soon as he entered.
" Cut his sleeve open, Cuthbert. Fetch a basin, sir, and some
water," he added to the clerk.
He took a lancet from his pocket and opened a vein in the
arm. At first only a few drops of dark-coloured blood issued
out.
" Dip a cloth in cold water and wrap it round his head ;
and do you, lad, run down to Miggleton, the confectioner, and,
get some ice, quick ; it is a matter of life or death ! "
At last the blood began to flow more freely.
" I think he will do now," the doctor said ; " it is his first
seizure. I have told him a good many times that he was too
fond of good living, and did not take exercise enough. What
brought this about, Cuthbert?"
"We had an unpleasant interview, doctor. I had some
ugly truths to tell him, and did not spare him."
" Then I think you had better go before he comes to his
senses again. Tell my man to bring down a mattress, pillows
and blankets. He won't be fit to be moved to-day, and we
must make him up a bed here. Directly I see that he is out
of immediate danger I will send over to Fairclose to break
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 223
the news to his wife. Yes, I will come round and let you
know how he is going on as soon as I can leave him."
Cuthbert nodded and put on his hat and went out. James
Harford was standing a few paces from the door.
" He has had a fit," Cuthbert said, as he joined him.
" I thought that was it when I saw the clerk run down the
street without a hat and come back with the doctor two or
three minutes later. Will he get over it % "
" The doctor thinks so, and I am sure I most sincerely hope
he will do so— it would be a bad business in all ways if he did
not. Now, Mr Harford, I don't think there is any occasion to
detain you here longer ; it may be days before I can see him
again, and I don't think it will be needful for you to confirm
my statements. I fancy the fight is all out of him — it came upcn
him too suddenly — if he had known that I was here he might
have braced himself up, but coming down like an avalanche
upon him it stunned him. Now, Mr Harford, you must permit
me to draw a cheque for ten pounds for your expenses down
here ; when I come to my own again I shall be able properly
to show my gratitude for the inestimal ' ; services you have
rendered me."
" I will take the money for my expenses, Mr Hartington,
but I can assure you that I have no thought or wish for payment
of any kind for my share in this business, and am only too
glad to have been able to give some little aid towards righting
the grievous harm you have suffered, to say nothing of paying
off my old score against Brander."
Half an hour later Dr Edwards returned home.
" He is conscious now," he said to Cuthbert. " That is to say,
vaguely conscious. I have not let him speak a word, but simply
told him he had had a fit and must remain absolutely quiet. I
don't suppose he has as yet any recollection whatever of what
preceded it. I am going to write a note and send it up to Fair-
close. I must keep a close watch over him for a bit, for I
have taken a good deal of blood from him."
" I would rather you did not mention it to anyone, doctor,
that I was present at the time he had the fit, as things may
happen ere long that will set people talking, and if it was
known that it was during an interview with me that he had
this apoplectic stroke it might give rise to unpleasant surmises
— unpleasant not only to him but to me, for — this is also &
secret at present— I am going to marry his eldest daughter ! "
" You don't say so, Cuthbert. Well, I congratulate you,
lor she is a charming girL I need not say that you can rely
224 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
upon my keeping it quiet until you choose to have it-
published."
" Well, doctor, as it may be some days before I can see
Brander again I will go back to town this evening. I did
not see anyone I knew as I went to his office, and I would
rather that it should not be known that I am down
here. As you are going back there now you might ask Levison
to come round here to see me. I will then tell him that
neither Brander nor myself would wish it mentioned that I
was with him at the time he had that seizure."
" Then, I suppose the fact is, Cuthbert, that while I have-
been flattering myself your visit was to me you really came
down to see Brander % "
" I am rather afraid, doctor, that had some influence in,
bringing me down, but you must forgive me this time."
" All right, lad, I am glad to have had a glimpse of you.
again, whatever your motive was in coming down."
It was ten days before Cuthbert received a letter from the
doctor saying that Mr Brander was now strong enough to see
him.
" He has asked to see you several times," he said, " but I
have told him tbat I could not permit him to talk. However,
he is a good deal stronger now, and is downstairs again, and
as I am sure some worry or other is preying on his mind and
keeping him back, I told him this morning that I would send
for you."
Cuthbert went down by the next train, and was driven
over in the doctor's gig to Fairclose. It was strange to him
to enter the familiar house as a visitor, and he looked round
the library, into which he was sbown upon giving his name,
with a sort of doubt whether the last two years had not been
a dream.
He had not much time for thought, for the door opened
and Mr Brander entered. Cuthbert was shocked at his.
appearance. He looked a mere wreck of himself. He walked
feebly and uncertainly. His face was pale, and the flesh on
the cheeks and chin was loose and flabby. He made his way
to an arm-chair and sank wearily into it.
" What are you going to do with me, Cuthbert Halting-
ton f " he asked in a weak voice. " Does all the world know
that I am a forger and a swindler ? "
" No one knows it, Mr Brander, nor need anyone know it.
If you make restitution as far as is in your power the matter
may rest entirely between us. With the evidence in my
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 225
possession I am in a position to obtain a judge's order strik-
ing out my father's name from the list of shareholders of
the bank and annulling the sale of Fairclose— of regaining
my own, and of securing your punishment for the offences you
have committed. The latter part, as I have said, I have no
desire to press. I consider that you have been punished
sufficiently already, but I must insist upon the restoration of
the estates of which I have been wrongfully deprived."
" And you will say nothing of what I have done ? "
" Nothing whatever. It will be for you to offer any
reason you choose for resigning Fairclose to me; but there
is one other point that I must insist on, namely, that you
leave Abchester. Your illness will be a valid excuse for
retiring altogether from an active share in the business and
of relinquishing the part you have taken in the affairs of the
town. As the senior partner you will doubtless receive a
sufficient income from your business to enable you to live in
comfort elsewhere, and it will be for your own benefit as much
as mine for you to leave the place, for it will be painful for
both of us to meet."
" I cannot give up Fairclose altogether unburdened, ,, the
lawyer said. "Fifteen thousand pounds of the purchase-
money I found myself. The other twenty thousand pounds I
raised on mortgages of the estate, and although that mortgage
would be invalidated by the proof that I had no power to give
it, the mortgagee would, of course, tight the question, and the
whole matter would be made public."
Outhbert was silent for a minute, not from any great
doubt or hesitation, but he did not wish the man to see that
he was eager to make terms, for he would at once think that
he was not in the position to prove the statement he had
made.
" It is a large sum," he said, " a very large sum to lose ;
and then there are two years' rents that you have received."
"These I could repay, Mr Hartington," the lawyer said
eagerly. " I have six thousand pounds invested in securities
I could realise at once."
Outhbert was silent again.
"Mr Brander," he said at last, "I feel, and I think, natur-
ally, very sore at the cruel wrong that has been inflicted upon
me, but I cannot forget that in my boyhood I was always
received with kindness by your wife, and for her sake, and
that of your daughters, I am most anxious your reputation
should remain untarnished. I am willing to believe that
226 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
this crime was the result of a sudden impulse, and that in
other respects you have been an honest man. I cannot
forget, too, that my father had a great esteem for you. As
to the two years' rents you have received, I will not claim
them. I have done well enough without them, and, in fact,
the necessity of working for my living has been of great;
advantage to me, and that alone makes me less inclined than
I otherwise might be to press hardly upon you. I will therefore
make this offer. You shall sign a paper that I have drawn
up, confessing the share you have taken in this business.
That paper I pledge myself solemnly to keep a profound
secret unless by any subsequent actions you force me to
use it in self-protection, and that you will sign a deed of gift
to me of Fairclose and its estates, subject to the mortgage
of twenty thousand pounds. You can hand me over the
deeds of the estate, and I will have the deed of gift drawn
up. You will also give me your promise to leave this town
and settle elsewhere. On these conditions I pledge you my
word that the transaction by which you obtained possession
of the estates shall not be divulged, and that the high
reputation you bear shall be altogether unsullied."
"God bless you, Mr Hartington," the lawyer said in a
broken voice, "for your generosity in sparing my wife and
children from the shame and disgrace that would have fallen
upon them had you insisted on your rights. It is more than
I deserve. I have never had a day's happiness since I came
here ; it seemed to me that all danger of detection had passed,
and yet it was ever before me. I was ever dreading that, in
some way I had not provided against, it would come out.' 1
u May I ask what income you will draw from your
business ? "
" The business is worth between four and five thousand a
year, and by my deed of partnership I was to receive two-
thirds of that as long as I myself chose to take a share in the
management, and one-third when I like to retire altogether.
A thousand a year is to be paid to my widow after my death,
and two hundred apiece to my daughters at her death."
"So you will have some fifteen hundred a year, Mr
Brander, and with that and the six thousand you have
invested you will not do badly. I shall return to town
this evening again, and will bring down the deed as soon as
it is prepared.' 1
"The papers connected with the estate are in a tin box
at my office, Mr Hartington," Mr Brander said in a voice more
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 227
like his own than he bad hitherto used. "I will write an
order to Levison to hand it over to yon. I feel a different
man already," he went on, as he got up and took a seat at the
table ; " before, it seemed to me there was nothing but disgrace
and ruin staring me in the face. Now I may hope that,
thanks to your forbearance, I may enjoy in peace what remains
to me of life. You may not believe me, Mr Hartington —
there is no reason why you should — but I swear to you I have
been a miserable man ever since your father's death. It was
not that I was afraid of detection — it seemed to me in that
respect I had nothing to fear — and yet I was miserable.
Before, I was proud of the respect in which I was held in
the town, and felt to some extent I deserved it, for I had
given up well nigh every moment of my spare time to its
service. Since then I have known that the poorest man in
the town would draw aside from me did he but know what I
was. To my family it has been a terrible disappointment that
the county has turned its back on us. To me it has been
a relief. I have felt a sort of satisfaction at finding that in
this respect at least I had sinned in vain. Were it not for my
wife and girls I would even now prefer that all should be
known, and that I should take the punishment that I deserve.
I could bear prison life better than to go about and mix with
other men, knowing what I know of myself, and feeling always
what they would think of me did they know it also — " and
he broke down and buried his face in his hands.
Cuthbert put his hand on his shoulder.
"You have done wrong, Mr Brander, but as you have
repented of it you may fairly hope it will be forgiven you
as freely and as fully as I forgive you. You may take it from
me that I feel I have been greatly benefited by what has
taken place, and that I have reason to bless the necessity that
fell upon me for working for my living. I was spending a
very useless and indolent life, and had nothing occurred to
rouse me, should probably have led it to the end. Now I
have worked hard for two years, and my masters tell me I
have every prospect of rising to eminence as an artist. There
will be no occasion for me to rely upon that as a profession
now, but the good the necessity for work has done me will
remain, and at anyrate I shall continue to work at it until
this mortgage is paid off. It has in another way brought
happiness into my life. Therefore, on my account at least,
you need not regret what has happened. I should say nothing
<at present as to your intention of leaving here. Possibly we
228 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
may hit upon some reason for your doing so that will be
accepted as a natural one. I can assure you I am as anxious
as you are yourself, indeed more so, that no shadow of sus-
picion of anything wrong should rest upon you. So do no*
worry yourself about it. You can safely leave it in my hands*
Now I will say good-bye. I hope that when I return I shall
find you stronger and better. I do not know that there is any
occasion for you to sign this paper I have brought.' 1
" I would rather do so," the lawyer said firmly ; " it will
be a relief to me to know that I have at least made a full
confession."
He took the document Cuthbert had drawn up, read
it through carefully, then took a pen and added at the
bottom : —
" The fifteen thousand pounds mentioned above as having
been drawn by me from my bank for the purpose of the
mortgage was really used for the payment of calls on shares
held by me in the Oakhurst Mining Company. This can be
established by a reference to the accounts of that company in
the hands of the liquidator."
He then signed his name and handed the paper to Cuth-
bert.
In spite of the efforts the latter made to hurry on Messrs
Barrington & Smiles, it was nearly three weeks before the
deed of gift was prepared. It had in the first place been
sketched out by Cuthbert, with the assistance of James
Harford, and recited " That Mr Brander, of Fairclose, handed
back that estate, together with the house and all appur-
tenances appertaining thereto, to Cuthbert Hartington, as &
dowry with his daughter Mary upon her marriage with the
said Cuthbert Hartington, being moved thereto partly by his
love and affection for his daughter, partly by the desire to
restore to the said Cuthbert Hartington the family estates of
which he had been deprived, partly from the want of care of
the said Jeremiah Brander in failing to represent to the late
J. W. Hartington, father of the said Cuthbert Hartington,
the grievous nature of the liability he would incur by taking
shares in the Abchester and County Bank. 9 '
Cuthbert was the more anxious to get the affair arranged,
as the insurrection in Paris had broken out, and he was eager
to return there. At last the deed was drawn up and he
returned to Abchester, and taking a fly at the station drove
straight to Fairclose.
He had written several times to Mary, lamenting that
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 229
"business had detained him longer than he expected, and sug-
gesting that it would be better for her to leave Paris at once,
but she had replied that she would rather remain there, at
anyrate, until his return. As he did not wish her to come to
Abchester at present, he abstained from pressing the point,
believing that M'Mahon would speedily collect a sufficient
force at Versailles to suppress the insurrection.
He found Mr Brander looking much more himself. It
was a very subdued likeness, but he had evidently gained
strength greatly.
" I have been longing for your return," he said, as soon
as Cuthbert entered the library. " I am eager to get out of
this and to go away. Have you brought down the deed V
" Here it is ; it is all stamped and in due form, and needs
only your signature and that of two witnesses."
Mr Brander rang the bell.
" John, call Gardener in. I want you both to witness my
signature."
The coachman came in.
" Glad to see you again, Mr Cuthbert," he said, touching
an imaginary hat.
" I am glad to see you, Gardener. I knew you were still
here."
All was ready for the signature. While waiting for the
men's entry Cuthbert had said, —
" I would rather you did not read this deed until you have
signed it, Mr Brander. I know it is a most unbusiness-like
thing for you to do, but I think you may feel sure you can
trust me."
"I have no intention of reading it," the lawyer said.
4t Whatever the conditions of that paper, I am ready to comply
with them."
After the signatures had been affixed, and the witnesses
had retired, Cuthbert said, —
" Now, Mr Brander, you are at liberty to read the deed.
I think you will find its provisions satisfactory."
Mr Brander, with a slight shrug of his shoulders that
signified that he was indifferent as to the details of the
arrangement, took the paper and began to run his eyes care-
lessly through it. Suddenly his expression changed. He
gave a start of surprise, read a few lines further, and then
exclaimed, —
" Can this l»e true t Are you really goin? to marry Mary ? "
" It is quite true," Cuthbert said quietly. " I first asked
230 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
her a few weeks before my father's death, when I met her
down at Newquay. She refused me at that time, but we
have both changed since then. I saw a great deal of her in
Paris, and she worked as a nurse in the American ambulance
during the siege. I was one of her patients, having been
shot through the body and brought in there insensible. Hav-
ing assisted in saving my life, she finally same to the con-
clusion that she could not do better than make that life a
happy one. She had refused me because she considered, and
rightly, that I was a useless member of society, and the fact
that I was heir to Fairclose had no influence whatever with
her ; but finding that I had amended my ways and was leading
an earnest and hard-working life she accepted me, small though
my income was."
"God bless her!" Mr Brander said fervently. "We
never got on well together, Mr Hartington. I had always an
uneasy consciousness that she disapproved of me, and that she
regarded me as a humbug, and as I was conscious of the fact
myself this was not pleasant. So I was rather glad than
otherwise that she should choose her own path. But I am
indeed delighted at this. She is honesty and truth itself, and
I pray she may make up to you for wrongs you have suffered
at my hands."
" She will do much more than that, Mr Brander, and you
see I have good reason for what I said when I was here before,
that the change in my fortune had been a benefit, since it had
forced me to take up a profession and work at it. Had it not
been for that I should never have won Mary. My being once
again master of Fairclose would not have weighed with her in
the slightest. She would not have married a mere idler
had he been a duke. Now you had better finish reading the
deed."
The lawyer read it through to the end.
" You have indeed made it easy for me," he said, when he
had laid it down.
" You see, I have an object in doing so, Mr Brander. I
told you that my interest in your reputation was as great as
your own. I hope that in any case I should not have made
a harsh use of the power I possessed. I am sure that I should
not, especially as I felt how much I had benefited by the two
years of work, but perhaps I might not have felt quite so
anxious that no breath of suspicion should fall upon you had
it not been for Mary."
" Does she know ? " Mr Brander asked.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 231
" She does not know, and will never hear it from me. She
may have vague suspicions when she hears that you have
made over Fairclose to me, bat these will never be more than
suspicions. Nor need your other daughters know. They
may wonder, perhaps, that Mary should have so large a share
of your property, but it will be easy for you to make some
sort of explanation, as is given in this deed, of your reason for
restoring Fairclose to me with her."
"They will be too glad to get away from here to care
much how it was brought about, and if afterwards they come
to ask any questions about it, I can tell them so much of the
truth — that it had been found the sale of the property to me
had been altogether illegal and irregular, and that in point of
fact you had a right not only to the estate, but to the twenty
thousand pounds for which I mortgaged it to raise the pur-
chase money, and to the two years' rents."
"That is what I shall tell my wife. I think she has
always had a vague suspicion that there was something shady
about the transaction, and I shall tell her that, so far from
regarding the loss of Fairclose as a hardship, I consider you
have behaved with extreme generosity and kindness in the
matter. Women do not understand business. I am sure it
won't be necessary to go into details. She, too, will be heartily
glad to leave Fairclose."
" Shall we go in and see them, Mr Brander ? You can
tell them as much or as little of the news as you think fit,
and after that you can give me some lunch. I want it
badly."
"Thank you," Mr Brander said gratefully. "I did not
like to ask you, but it will make matters easier. 9 '
He led the way into the drawing-room. Mrs Brander was
sitting at the window with an anxious look on her face.
She knew of Cuthbert's former visit, and that he was again
closeted with her husband, and had a strong feeling that
something was wrong. The girls were sitting listlessly in easy-
chairs, not even pretending to read the books that lay in their
laps. They rose with a look of bright surprise on their faces
as Cuthbert entered with their father.
"Why, Mr Hartington, it is ages since we saw you."
" It is indeed — it is over two years."
" I have two surprising pieces of news to give you, Eliza.
In the first place, it has been discovered that there was a very
serious flaw in the title to Fairclose, and that the sale to me
was altogether illegal Mr Hartington has behaved most
232 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
kindly and generously in the matter, but the result is, he
comes back to Fairclose and we move out."
The three ladies uttered an exclamation of pleasure.
Fairclose had become hateful to them all, and at this moment
it mattered little to them how it had come about that th*-y
were going to leave it.
"You don't mean to cro back to the High Street^ father %"
Julia, the elder of the girls, asked anxiously.
" No, my dear ; it will be a question to be settled between
us where we will go, but I have decided to leave Abchester
altogether. I feel that I require rest and quiet, and shall
give up business and go right out of it."
The girls both clapped their hands.
" And now for my second piece of news, which will sur-
prise you as much as the first. Your sister Mary is going to
marry Mr Harrington. The matter was settled in Paris,
where they have both been shut up during the siege. "
"That is, indeed, good news," Mrs Brander said
cordially, foreseeing at once the advantage of such a
marriage.
The girls took their cue from her, and professed great
pleasure at the news which, however, was not altogether
welcome to them.
" Mary, whom they had never liked, was to be mistress of
Fairclose, and was to gain all the advantages that they had
expected, but had never obtained. The thought was not pleas-
ant, but it was speedily forgotten in the excitement of the
other news. Her mother, however, seeing the pleasure that
her husband unmistakably felt at the thought of the marriage
was genuinely pleased. Not only might the connection be
useful to the girls, but it might be invaluable in covering
their retirement from Fairclose. There might be some-
thing more about that than her husband had said. At
anyrate, this would silence all tongues, and put an end to the
vague anxiety that she had long felt. She had always liked
Outhhert, and had long ago cherished a faint hope that he
might some day take to Mary."
" This all comes very suddenly upon us, Mr Hartington.
I suppose I ought to call you Cuthbert again now."
" It would certainly sound more like old times, Mrs
Brander."
" Only think, my dear," the lawyer put in, " he proposed
to Mary more than two years ago, and she refused him. I
suppose she never told you ] "
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUXE 233
" She never said a word on the subject," Mrs Brander said,
almost indignantly. " Why, it must have been before — " and
she stopped.
"Before my short reign here as master, Mrs Brander.
Yes, I was down at Newquay sketching, when she was stay-
ing with her friend, Miss Treadwyn, and Mary was at the
time too much occupied with the idea of raising womenkind
in the scale of humanity to think of taking up with a useless
member of society like myself."
Mrs Brander shook her head very gravely.
" It was a sad trouble to her father and myself/ she said.
4i I hope shR has got over those ideas."
" I think she has discovered that the world is too large for
her to move," Cuthbert replied, with a smile. " At anyrate,
she has undertaken the task of looking after me instead of re-
forming the world ; it may be as difficult, perhaps, but it sounds
less arduous."
At lunch the girls were engaged in an animated discus-
sion as to where they would like to move to, but Mrs Brander
put an end to it by saying, —
" We shall have plenty of time to talk that over, girls —
it must depend upon many things. Your father's health will,
of course, be the first consideration. At anyi-ate, I shall set
my face against London, so you can put that altogether out of
your minds. An income that would be sufficient to establish
one in a good position near a country or seaside town would
be nothing in London. And now, Cuthbert, we want to
hear a great deal more about our dear Mary. She writes
so seldom, and, of course, she has been cut off for so long
a time from us that we scarcely know what she is doing.
In Germany she did not seem to be doing anything par-
ticular, but, as she said in her letters, was studying the
people and their language."
" That is what she was doing in Paris — at least, that is
what she came to do, but the siege put a stop to her studies,
and she devoted herself to the much more practical work of
nursing the wounded."
" Dear me, what an extraordinary girl she is," Mrs Bran-
der said, much shocked. " Surely there were plenty of women
in Paris to nurse the wounded without her mixing herself up
in such unpleasant work, of which she could know absolutely
nothing."
" She was a very good nurse, nevertheless," Cuthbert said
quietly. " She worked in the American ambulance, under an
234 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
American doctor, the other nurses and assistants being all
American or English."
" How do you know she was a good nurse, Mr Harting-
ton ?" Clara asked.
" Simply because I was one of her patients, Miss Brander.
I joined one of the corps of Franc Tireurs, in which most of
my student friends enrolled themselves, and had the bad luck
to get shot through the body in the sortie at Champigny, and
as your lister was one of the nurses in the tent where I lay, I
think that I am a pretty fair judge as to her powers of nurs-
ing. She was often there during the heaviest time for twenty-
four hours at a stretch, and completely knocked herself up by
her continued labours. At anyrate, I consider I owe my life
in no small degree to her care."
"I don't think we ever understood Mary," Mr Brander
said, in a more peremptory tone than the girls had heard him
use since his seizure. " Tuere is no doubt that it was as much
our fault as it was hers. I feel proud to hear that she
has done such noble work. Mr Hartington tells me," he
said, abruptly changing the conversation, " that he has been
working nurd, with the intention of making art his profession,
as it has long been his amusement. He seems to think that
although he will, of course, be no longer obliged to look upon
it as a necessary career, he intends, at anyrate, to pursue it
for a time."
" That will be very interesting," Mrs Brander said, " and
it is quite the fashion in our days."
" It is very nice when you haven't to live by it," Cuth-
bert said. "When you are obliged to do that, and instead
of painting what you like, have to paint things that will
sell, it is uphill work, and none but men of real talent can
push their way up out of the crowd. I shall be more happily
situated, and shall therefore be able to devote an amount of
care and time to a picture that would be impossible to a man
who had his daily bread and cheese to earn by his brush. And
now, Mr Brander, we will have a few more words together,
and then I must be off. I shall most likely return to town
this evening."
" It must be for you to decide, Mr Brander," he went on
when they were alone in the study, " how this news shall be
broken to the public. I am quite ready to be guided entirely
by your wishes in the matter."
" The sooner the better. I would suggest that you should
.see Dr Edwards before you go up to town. If you will tell him
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 235
what I told them in the next room, that it has been discovered
that there is a flaw in the sale of Fairclose, and that, as jou
are engaged to marry Mary, we have arrived at an amicable
agreement under which you will return at once to Fairclose,
while I intend to seek an entirely new scene and to retire
altogether from business, there will be very little more need-
ful. The news will spread like wildfire over the town and
county. After that I shall have very few questions asked me.
None that I shall not be able to answer without difficulty.
The state of my health will form an excuse for my cutting my
farewells short. There will, no doubt, be some gossip and
wonder as to how it has come about, but the county will be so
pleased at your coming back again to your father's place that
they will not be very curious as to how it occurred. I shall
go off as quickly and as quietly as I can, after calling to say
good-bye to those with whom I have been so long associated
in the municipal business.
" It matters not where we go. I can take a furnished
house at some seaside watering-place. The doctor will advise
which is most likely to suit me, and we can then look round
and settle on our future plans at our leisure. If I gain
strength I think it likely enough we may travel on the
Continent for a time. The girls have never been abroad, and
the prospect would go a long way towards reconciling them
entirely to the change."
" I think that a very good plan," Cuthbert said. " I was
intending to call upon the doctor on my way down, and he
will at once set the ball rolling."
Mr Brander went to the door, where the fly had been wait-
ing for two hours.
" God bless you ! " he said. " I cannot tell you how
deeply grateful I am to you for your forbearance and
generosity."
"Don't worry any more about it, Mr Brander," Cuth-
bert said, as he shook his hand ; " it has been a temporary
change, and good i cither than bad has come of it. Believe
me, I shall put the matter out of my mind altogether."
"Back again, Cuthbert," the doctor said, when he wag
shown into the consulting-room. " I was down just now at
the station to see a man off, and the stationmaster said you
had arrived by the 11.30 train, and that he had seen you
drive off in a fly. I could hardly believe it, but as you are
here in person, I suppose that there can be no mistake about
it. Of course, you have been up to Brander's again ? "
236 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
<<
I have, doctor, and for the last time. That is, the
next time I shall go up it will be to take possession of Fair-
close."
" My dear lad, I am delighted," the doctor said, shaking
him heartily by the hand. "How has this miracle come
about t"
" I cannot give you all the details, doctor. I will simply
give you the facts, which, by the way, I shall be glad if you
will retail to your patients for public consumption," and he
then repeated the statement that he had arranged with Mr
Brander that he should make.
" And that is the tale you wish me to disseminate t " the
doctor said, with a twinkle of his eye, when Cuthbert
concluded.
"That is the statement, doctor, and it has the merit of
being, as far as it goes, true. What the nature of the illegality
of this sale was, I am not at liberty to disclose, not even to
you, but I have discovered that beyond all question it was
irregular and invalid, and Brander and I have come to a
perfectly amicable understanding. I may tell you that, to
prevent the trouble inseparable even from a friendly law suit,
he assigns the property to me as Mary's dowry, and as a
sort of recognition of the fact that he acted without sufficient
care in advising my father to take those shares in the bank.
Thus all necessity for the re-opening of bygone events will be
obviated."
" A very sensible way, lad. You will understand, of course,
that I know enough of Jeremiah to be quite sure that he would
not relinquish a fine property if he had a leg to stand u|x>n.
However, that is no business of mine, and I have no doubt
that the fact that he is going to be your father-in-law has
had no small influence in bringing about this very admirable
arrangement. Of course, the matter will make a good deal
of talk, bat these things soon die out, and the county will
welcome you back too heartily to care how your return has
been brought about. You can rely upon my action in the
part of town crier, and I am sure to some of my patients
the flutter of excitement the news will occasion will do a
great deal more good than any medicine I could give them.
Of course, you are going to stay here?"
" Only to dinner, doctor. I shall run up to town again
this evening."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 237
CHAPTER XXI
It was on the last day of March that Cuthbert Harrington
reached Paris. During the six weeks that had elapsed since
he had left it many events had taken place. He himself had
gone away a comparatively poor man, and returned in the
possession of the estates inherited from his father, unimpaired
save by the mortgage given upon them by Mr Brander. He
had succeeded beyond his hopes, and having obtained un-
looked-for proofs of the fraud that had been practised, had
been able to obtain restitution — which was to him the most
important point — and all had been done without the slightest
publicity. In Paris, the danger he had foreseen had culmin-
ated in the Commune. The battalions of National Guards
from Montmartre and Belleville had risen against the Provi-
sional Government ; the troops had fraternised with them, and
their generals had been murdered in cold blood.
The National Guards of the business quarters had for a
time held aloof, but, in the absence of support from without,
and being enormously outnumbered, they were powerless, and
the extreme party were now in absolute possession of the city.
M. Thiers and the Assembly at Versailles had so far been
unable to take any steps to reduce the revolted capital. Such
troops as had been hastily collected could not be relied upon
to act, and it seemed probable that the National Guards and
Paris would, in a short time, take the offensive and obtain
possession of Versailles, in which case the flame of insurrection
would spread at once to all the great towns of France, and the
horrors of the Reign of Terror might be repeated.
The line of railway to Paris was still open, for, upon the
Communists preparing to cut off all communications, the
Germans, still in great force near the town, pending the
carrying out of the terms of the treaty of peace, threatened
to enter Paris were such a step taken. A vast emigration had
taken place among the middle classes, and over fifty thousand
persons had left Paris. So far the Communists had abstained
from excesses, and from outrage upon peaceable citizens ; had
it been otherwise, Cuthbert would have returned to fetch
Mary away at once. Her letters to him, however, had
assured him that there was no cause whatever for uneasi-
ness about her, and that everything was going on precisely
as it had done during the siege by the Germans. He had
238 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
been anxious that she should, if possible, remain for the
present in Paris, for he did not wish ber to return to her
family, and had made up his mind that if it became absolutely
necessary for her to leave Paris, she should arrange to go
straight down to Newquay and stay there with her friends.
As he alighted from the carriage at the Northern Railway
Station he found the place occupied by National Guards;
there was no semblance of discipline among them, they
smoked, lounged about, scowled at the few passengers who
arrived, or slept upon the benches, wrapt in their blankets.
There were none of the usual hotel omnibuses outside, and but
one or two fiacres ; hailing one of these he was driven to his
lodgings. He was greeted by the concierge with surprise and
pleasure.
"So monsieur has come back; we did not expect you,
though Monsieur Caillard, who comes here every day, told us
that you would be sure to be back again in spite of the Beds.
Ah, monsieur, what horror to think that, after all Paris has
gone through, these monsters should have become masters of
the city ; it would have been a thousand times better to have
had the Prussians here, they would have kept order, and those
wild beasts of Montmartre would not have dared even to have
murmured. You have heard how they shot down peaceful
citizens in the Rue de la Paix? Have you come to stay,
monsieur ? "
" For a time, anyhow," and taking the key of his rooms,
Cuthbert carried up his portmanteau, and then at once came
down and drove to Madame Michaud's.
Mary was half expecting him, for in his last letter to her
he had told her he hoped to arrive in Paris that evening.
" I have been horribly anxious about you, Mary," he said
after the first greeting.
" There was no occasion for your being so," she replied ;
" everything is perfectly quiet here, though from what they say
there may be fighting any day, but if there is it will be outside
the walls and will not affect us here.' 1
" I don't think there will be much fighting," he said. " If
the troops fraternise with the Communists there's an end of
the business ; all France will join them, and we shall have the
Reign of Terror over again, though they will not venture
upon any excesses here in Paris, for, fortunately, the Germans
are still within gunshot, and they would have the hearty
approval of all Europe in marching in here and stamping the
whole thing out. If the troops, on the other hand, prove
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 239
faithful, I feel sure, from what I saw of the Belleville bat-
talions, that there will be very little fighting outside the walls.
They may defend Paris for a time, and perhaps bravely, for
they will know they are fighting with ropes round their necks,
and the veriest cur will fight when cornered. Your people
here are not thinking of leaving, I hope ? "
" JNo, and they could not now if they wanted ; the Com-
mune has put a stop to emigration, and though the trains
still run once or twice a day, they go out as empty as they
come in. Have you got through your business ? " she asked,
with a shade of anxiety.
"Yes, dear, and most satisfactorily; everything has been
arranged in the happiest way. I unexpectedly obtained proofs
that the sale of Fairclose was altogether irregular, and, indeed,
invalid. I have seen your father, who, at once, upon my
laying the proofs before him, recognised the position. Our
arrangement has been a perfectly amicable one. He is going
to retire altogether from business, and will probably take up
his residence at some seaside place where there is a bracing
climate. The doctor recommends Scarborough, for I may tell
you that he has had a slight stroke of apoplexy, and is eager
himself for rest and quiet. Fairclose and the estate comes
back to me, nominally as your dowry, and with the exception
that there is a mortgage on it for twenty thousand pounds, I
shall be exactly in the same position that I was on the day
my father died. I may say that your mother and the girls
are delighted with the arrangement, for, somehow, they have
not been received as cordially as they had expected in the
county— owing, of course, to a foolish prejudice arising from
your father's connection with the bank, whose failure hit
-everyone heavily — and they are, in consequence, very pleased
indeed at the prospect of moving away altogether. 1 '
Mary's forehead was puckered up in little wrinkles of
perplexity as she listened. " I am glad of course, very glad,
that you have got Fairclose back," she said, "though it
all seems very strange to me — is that all that I am to know,
Outhbert?"
" That is all it is necessary that you should know, Mary,
and no one else will know any more. Your father's illness,
and the doctor's injunctions that he should retire from busi-
ness altogether and settle in some place with a mild climate,
is an ample reason for his leaving Fairclose ; and your engage-
ment to me, and my past connection with the place, are equally
valid reasons why I should be. his successor there. I do not
240 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
say, Mary, that there may not have been other causes which
have operated to bring about this result, but into these there
is no need whatever for us to enter. Be contented, dear, to
know that all has turned out in the best possible way, that I
have recovered Fairclose, that your family are all very pleased
at the prospect of leaving it, and in that fact the matter ends
happily for everyone."
" I lunched at the old place only ye8terday, ,, he went on
lightly, "and the girls were in full discussion as to where
they should go. Your father is picking up his strength fast,
and, with rest and quiet, will, I hope, soon be himself again.
I expect, between ourselves, that he will be all the better for
getting away from that work in the town, with its lunches
and dinners. The doctor told me that he had warned him
that he was too fond of good living, especially as he took no
exercise. Now that he will be free from the office, and from all
that corporation business, he will no doubt walk a good deal
more than he has done for many years and live more simply ;
and, as the doctor told me yesterday, the chances are that
he will have no recurrence of his attack. I may tell you that,
from a conversation I had with him, I learned that your
father will still draw a very comfortable income from the
business, and will have amply sufficient to live in very good style
at Scarborough."
The fact that Cuthbert had lunched at Fairclose did more
to soothe Mary '8 anxiety than anything else he had said. It
seemed a proof that, however this strange change had come
about, an amicable feeling existed between Cuthbert and her
father, and when he wound up with, "Are you contented,
dear ? " she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
"More than contented, Cuthbert; I have been worrying
myself greatly while you have been away, and I never thought
that it would end as happily as this. I know, dear, that you
have concealed a great deal from me, but I am contented to-
know no more than that. I am as sure as if you had told
me, that you have brought all these things about in thia
friendly way for my sake. And now," she said, after a pause,
" what are your plans for yourself 1 "
" You mean for us, Mary ? Well, dear, my plan is that we
shall wait on here and see how things turn out. I don't want
to go back to England till all these arrangements are carried
out. I don't intend to have to go to Scarborough to marry
you, and I think it will be vastly better for us to be married
quietly here as soon as the chaplain at the Embassy returns,,
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 241
which, of coarse, he will do directly these troubles are over.
My present idea is that I shall let the house at Fairclose, or
shut it up if I cannot let it, and let the rents of the property
go to paying off this mortgage. And I intend to take a
modest little place near London, to live on our joint income,
and to work hard until Fairclose is clear of this encum-
brance."
"That is right, Outhbert. I have been wondering, ever
since you told me you were to have Fairclose again, if you
would give up painting, and hoping that you would still go on
with it. I should so like you to win a name for yourself as a
great painter."
Cuthbert laughed. "My dear child, you are jumping a
great deal too fast at conclusions. I am not yet out from
school. I have painted my two first pictures, which you like
principally because your face is in one of them, but that is a
short step towards becoming a great artist. You are like a
young lady in love with a curate, and therefore convinced that
some day he will be Archbishop of Canterbury, and with
almost equally good foundation. However, I shall do my
best ; and as I shall still have a strong motive for work, and
shall have you to spur me on, I hope I may make a modest
success."
"I am sure you will, and more than that," she said
warmly. " If not," she added, with a saucy laugh, " I think
you might as well give it up altogether. A modest success
means mediocrity, and that is hateful ; and I am sure you
yourself would be no more satisfied with it than I should."
" Well, I will go on for a bit and see. I agree with you
that a thing is not worth doing unless it is done well, but I
won't come to any final decision for another year or two.
Now it is past ten o'clock, and I must be going."
" When will you come to-morrow ? "
"I will come at three o'clock. Have your things on by
that time, and we will go for a ramble."
Ren6 Caillard came into Outhbert's room at nine o'clock
the next morning.
"I came round yesterday evening, Cuthbert, and heard
from the concierge that you had arrived and had gone out
again. As he said you had driven off in a fiacre, it was evi-
dently of no use waiting. I thought I would come down and
catch you the first thing this morning. You look well and
strong again — your native air evidently suits you."
"I feel quite well again, though not quite so strong. So
242 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
things have turned out just as I anticipated, and the Reds are
the masters of Paris."
Bene shrugged his shoulders. " It is disgusting," he said.
" It does not trouble us much. We have nothing to lose but
our heads, and as these scoundrels would gain nothing by
cutting them o% I suppose we shall be allowed to go our
own way."
" Is the studio open again t "
" Oh, yes, and we are all hard at work — that is to say, the
few that remain of us. Goude has been fidgeting for you to
come back. He has asked several times whether I have news
of you, and if I was sure you had not left Paris for ever. I
know he will be delighted when I tell him that you have re-
turned ; still more so if you take the news yourself."
" I suppose Minette has resumed her duties as model ? "
"Not she," Ben6 said scornfully. "She is one of the
priestesses of the Commune. She rides about on horseback
with a red flag and sash. Sometimes she goes at the head of
a battalion, sometimes she rides about with the leaders. She
is in earnest, but she is in earnest theatrically, and that fool,
Dampierre, is as bad as she is."
" What 1 Has he joined the Commune ? "
"Joined, do you say? Why, he is one of its leaders. He
plays the part of La Fayette in the drama, harangues the
National Guards, assures them of the sympathy of America,
calls upon them to defend the freedom they have won by their
lives and to crush back their oppressors, as his countrymen
crushed their British tyrants. Of course it is all Minette's
doing. He is as mad as she is. I can assure you that he is
quite a popular hero among the Beds, and they would have
appointed him a general if he had chosen to accept it, but he
said that he considered himself as the representative of the
great Republic across the sea, that he would accept no office,
but would fight as a simple volunteer. He, too, goes about on
horseback, with a red scarf, and when you see Minette, you
may be sure that he is not far off."
" Without absolutely considering Dampierre to be a fool,
I have always regarded him as being, well, not mad, but
different to other people ; his alternate fits of idleness and
hard work, his infatuation for Minette, his irritation at the
most trifling jokes, and the moody state into which he often
fell, all seem to show, as the Scots say, ' a bee in his bonnet/
and I can quite fancy the excitement of the times, and his
infatuation for that woman, may have worked him up to a
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 243
point much more nearly approaching madness than before. I
am very sorry, Rene 1 , for there was a good deal to like about him.
He was a gentleman, and a chivalrous one. In Minette he
•saw not a clever model, but a peerless woman, and was carried
away by her enthusiasm, which is, I think, perfectly real.
She is in her true element now, and is, I should say, for once
not acting. Well, it is a bad business. If the Commune
triumphs, as I own that it seems likely enough it will do, he
will in time become disgusted with the adventurers and am-
bitious scoundrels by whom he is surrounded, and will, like
the Girondists, be among the first victims of the wild beast he
has helped to bring into existence. If the troops prove faith-
ful, the Commune will be crushed, and all those who have
made themselves conspicuous are likely to have but a short
shrift of it when martial law is established. Well, Rene', as
there is nothing that can be done in the matter, it is of no use
troubling about it. None of the others have gone that way,
I suppose t "
" Of course not ! " Rene* exclaimed indignantly. " You
don't suppose that after the murder of the generals any decent
Frenchman would join such a cause, even if he were favour-
able to its theories. Morbleu/ Although I hate tyrants I
should be tempted to take up a rifle and go out and defend
them were they menaced by such scum as this. It is not even
as it was before. Then it was the middle class who made the
Revolution, and there was at least much that was noble in
their aims ; but these creatures, who creep out from their
slums like a host of obnoxious beasts, animated solely by
hatred for all around them, and by a lust for plunder and
blood, they fill one with loathing and disgust. There is not
among them, save Dampierre, a single man of birth and edu-
cation, if only, perhaps, you except Rochefort. There are
plenty of Marats, but certainly no Mirabeau.
" No, no, Cuthbert, we of the studio may be wild and
thoughtless — we live gaily and do not trouble for the morrow
— but we are not altogether fools ; and even were there no-
thing else to unite us against the Commune, the squalor and
wretchedness, the ugliness and vice, the brutal coarseness, and
the foul language of these ruffians would band us together
as artists against them. Now, enough of Paris. What
have you been doing in England besides recovering your
health!"
" I have been recovering a fortune, too, Rene. A com-
plicated question concerning some property that would, in the
244 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
ordinary course of things, have come to me has now been*
decided in my favour."
" I congratulate you," Bene said. " But you will not give
up art, I hope ? "
" No, I intend to stick to that, Bene\ You see, I was not
altogether dependent on it before, so that circumstances are
not much changed."
" You finished your pictures before you went away, did
you not ? The temptation to have a peep at them has been
very strong, but I have resisted nobly. It was heroic, was it
notl"
" It must have been. Yes, I put the finishing touches to-
them before I went away, and now I will show them to you,
Bene ; it is the least I can do after all your kindness. Now
go and look out of the window until I fix the easels in a good
light. I want your first impressions to be favourable. There,"
after a pause, " the curtain is drawn up and the show has
begun." He spoke lightly, but there was an under-tone of
anxiety in his voice. Hitherto no one but Mary had seen
them, and her opinion upon the subject of art was of little
value. He himself believed that the work was good, but yet
felt that vague dissatisfaction and doubt whether it might not
have been a good deal better that most artists entertain as to
their own work. In the school BenS's opinion was always
sought for eagerly. There were others who painted better,
but none whose feeling of art was more true, or whose critical
instinct keener.
Bene looked at the pictures for a minute or two in silence,
then he turned to Cuthbert and took one of his hands in his
own. "My dear friend, " he said, "it is as I expected. I
always said that you had genius, real genius, and it is true.
I congratulate you, my dear friend. If it were not that I
know you English object to be embraced, I should do so, but
you are cold and do not like a show of feeling. These pictures
will place you well in the second rank ; in another year or
two you will climb into the first. They will be hung on the
line, that goes without saying. They are charming, they are
admirable, and to think that you are still at the school I
might paint all my life and I should never turn out two such
canvases ; and it is a sin that one who can paint like that
should expose himself to be shot at by Prussians. Now, do-
you sit down and let me look at them. 19
"Do so, Ben6; and please remember that I want, not
praise, but honest criticism. I know they have defects, but I
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 245
^want you to point them oat to me, for while I feel that they
might be improved, I have my own ideas so strongly in my
head that I cannot see where the faults are as you can. Re-
member, you can't be too severe, and if possible to do so, with-
out entirely having to re-paint them, I will try to carry out
your suggestions."
Rene* produced a pipe, filled and lighted it, then placed a
-chair so that he could sit across it and lean upon the back.
He sat for upwards of a quarter of an hour, puffing out clouds
-of tobacco smoke, without speaking.
"You mean what you say, Cuthbert?" he said at last.
* c Very well, I will take the bright one first. As to the
figure I have nothing to say ; the effect of the light falling
on her head and face is charming. The dress is perhaps a
little stiff; it would have been better if relieved by some
light lace or gauze, but we will let that pass. It is a portrait,
and a good one. It is your pretty nurse at the ambulance.
Am I to congratulate you there too ? "
Cuthbert nodded.
" I thought so," Rene went on, without moving his gaze
from the pictures, " and will congratulate you presently. The
background of the figure is the one weak point of the picture.
That, too, like the portrait, I doubt not, was taken from
reality, for, with your artistic feeling, you would never have
placed that bare wall behind the figure. You have tried by
the shadows from the vine above to soften it, and you have
•done all you could in that way, but nothing could really avail.
You want a vine to cover that wall. It should be thrown
into deep, cool shadow, with a touch of sunlight here and
there streaming upon it, but less than you now have falling
on the wall. As it is now, the cool grey of the dress is not
sufficiently thrown up, it, like the wall, is in shade, except
where the sun touches the head and face. But, with a dark,
-cool green, somewhat undefined and not too much broken up
by the forms of the foliage, the figure would be thrown for-
ward, although still remaining in the shade, and I am sure
the picture would gain at once in strength and repose. Now,
as to the other. It is almost painfully sombre, it wants
relief. It expresses grief and hopelessness — that is good ; but
it also expresses despair — that is painful. One does not feel
quite sure that the young woman is not about to throw her-
self into the sea. Now, if you were to make a gleam of
watery sunshine break through a rift in the cloud, lighting
up a small patch of foam and breaker, it would be a relief.
246 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
If you could arrange it so that the head should stand up
against it, it would add greatly to the effect. What do you
think)" he asked, breaking off suddenly and turning to-
Cuthbert.
" You are right in both instances, Rene\ Both the back-
grounds are from sketches I made at the time. The verandah
in the one case, and the sea and sky and rock in the other,,
are as I saw them, and it did not occur to me to change them.
Yes, you are a thousand times right. I see now why I was
discontented with them, and the changes you suggest will be-
invaluable. Of course, in the sea scene the light will be ill
defined ; it will make its way through a thin layer of cloud,
and will contrast just as strongly with the bright, warm sun-
shine on the other picture as does the unbroken darkness.
There is nothing else that you can suggest, Rene" 1 "
" No ; and I almost wish that I had not made those sug-
gestions. The pictures are so good that I am frightened lest
you should spoil them by a single touch of the brush."
" I have no fear of that, Rend I am sure of the dark
picture, and I hope I can manage the other, but if I fail,
I can but paint the wall in again. I will begin at once.
I suppose you are going round to Goud#s ? Tell him that I
am back, and will come round this evening after dinner. Ask
all the others to come here to supper at ten. Thank good-
ness, we shall have a decent feed this time."
Directly Rene* had left, Cuthbert set to work with ardour.
He felt that Ren6 had hit upon the weak spots that he had
felt and yet failed to recognise. In four hours the seascape
was finished, and as he stepped back into the window to
look at it, he felt that the ray of misty light showing rather
on the water than on the air had effected wonders, and added
immensely to the poetry of the picture.
" I have only just time to change and get- there in time,"
he said, with a very unlover-like tone of regret, as he hastily
threw off his painting-blouse, ate a piece of bread left over
from breakfast, and drank a glass of wine. He glanced many
times at the picture.
" Curious," he muttered, " how blind men are to their own
work. I can detect a weak point in another man's work in a.
moment, and yet, though I felt that something was wrong, I
could not see what it was in my own. If I succeed as well
with the other as I have done with this, I shall be satisfied
indeed."
" You are a quarter of an hour late, sir," Mary said, hold-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 247
ing up a finger in reproof as he entered. "The idea of keep-
ing me waiting the very first time after our engagement ! I
tremble when I look forward to the future."
" I have been painting, Mary, and when one is painting
one forgets how time flies; but I feel greatly ashamed of
myself, and am deeply contrite."
"You don't look contrite at all, Cuthbert; not one
bit."
" Well, I will not press for forgiveness now. I think,
when you see what I have been doing, you will overlook the
offence."
" What have you been doing ? I thought you told me that
you had quite finished the two pictures the day you came to
say good-bye before you started for Brussels."
" IJene has been criticising them, and has shown me where
I committed two egregious blunders."
"Then I think that it was very impertinent of him,"
Mary said, in a tone of vexation. " I am sure nothing could
have been nicer than they were even when I saw them. I
am certain there were no blunders in them, and I don't see
how they could be improved."
"Wait until you see them again, Mary. I altered one
this morning, but the other will take me three or four days'
steady work. I am not so sure of success there, but if you
don't like it when you see it, I promise you that I will restore
it to its former condition. Now, let us be off. If I am not
mistaken, there is something going on. I saw several batta-
lions of National Guards marching through the streets, and
there is a report that fifty thousand men are to march against
Versailles. We may as well see them start. It may turn
out to be an historic event."
CHAPTER XXII
The march against Versailles did not take place on the
first of April, although the Communists had every reason to
believe that they would meet with no opposition, as on the
previous night two regiments of the army, forming the ad-
248 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
vanced guard between Versailles and Paris, came in, together
with a battery of artillery, and declared for the Commune.
The next morning Cuthbert went up at nine o'clock, as he
had arranged to take Mary out early, and to work in the
afternoon. Just as he reached the house he heard a cannon
shot.
" Hurry on your things," he said, as he met her ; " a gun
has just tired; it is the first in the Civil War; perhaps
the National Guard are starting against Versailles; at any-
rate, it will be worth seeing. "
The girl was ready in two or three minutes, and they
walked briskly* to the Arc de Triomphe. As they did so,
they could hear not only the boom of cannon, but the distant
firing of musketry. Around the arch a number of people were
gathered, looking down the long, broad avenue running from it
through the Porte Maillot, and then over the Bridge of
Neuilly to the column of CourbeiL Heavy firing was going
on near the bridge, upon the banks of the river, and away
beyond it to the right.
" The firing means that France is saved from the horrors
of another red revolution, Mary," Cuthbert said. " It shows
that some of the troops at least are loyal, and in these matters
example is everything. There was a report that Charrette's
Zouaves and the gendarmes have been placed at the outposts,
and if the report is true it was a wise step indeed for
M'Mahon to take, for both could be relied upon; and now
fighting has begun, there is hope that the troops behind will
stand firm."
" Why should they, Cuthbert ? "
" Some of the shots from this side are sure to fall among
them, and if a few are killed and wounded, the rest will get
angry, and all idea of fraternising with the men who are firing
on them will be at an end. I should like to see how that
crowd of National Guards are behaving."
" Shall we go dowu and look, Cuthbert ¥ See, there is an
omnibus going down the hill, so I don't suppose there can be
much danger."
" I don't think that there is any danger at present, Mary ;
the balls will hardly come so far, but .if the troops open fire
with cannon, they will send shell right up this avenue."
"Would you go by yourself if I were not here, Cuthbert t"
"Well, I certainly should, but that is no reason why I
should go with you."
"I can bee women looking out of the windows," she said,
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 249
<c so we will go down together, Cuthbert. We had the
German shell falling near us while the siege was going on,
and things went on just as usual."
"Come on then, dear; at anyrate, it will be only field
.guns, and not heavy siege artillery, and I dare say we can get
into one of the houses and look out from them ; a twelve-
pounder would scarcely do much harm to one of these
solid stone buildings."
They went quietly down the road. No whizz of bullet
-or crash of shell was heard, and without interruption they
continued their course until they arrived near the gate.
Near it were two battalions of the National Guard, who were
in a state of utter disorder. Some of the men were quietly
walking away with their rifles slung behind them in spite of a
line of sentries placed across the road, and the efforts of their
officers. Cuthbert questioned some of the men as they, came
•along as to what had happened, but the most contradictory
answers were given. They had been fired upon from Fort
Valerien ; they had been attacked from Courbevoie ; they had
been betrayed ; they had been sent out without any cannon ;
•ammunition was short; they were not going to stay to be
shot down ; they were going to the Hdtel de Ville to turn
out the traitors who had sent them out without a proper
supply of ammunition. That they had some ammunition was
evident from the fact that several muskets went off acci-
dentally the result of nervousness on the pare of those that
held them.
" We won't stay here to risk being shot by these cowardly
fools, " Cuthbert said ; " let us get into one of the houses."
They went back a short distance, and Cuthbert spoke to a
man standing at his door. "This lady and myself are
English," he said, " would you allow us to go up and stand at
one of the windows to see what is going on ? "
The request was at once acceded to, and they were soon
posted at a window on the fifth floor.
" Look at them," Cuthbert said in disgust ; " these are the
heroes who clamoured to go out and destroy the Germans."
The scene below was certainly singular — the bugles and
-drums sounded the assembly and beat the rappel alternately,
but the men paid not the slightest attention to the call, but
continued to slink away until the drummers and buglers re-
mained alone. Of the two battalions, some fifty men posted
^t the loopholes of the crenelated wall by the gate remained,
the rest had melted away. From the balcony at the window
250 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
a fine view was obtained across the country. A heavy musket
fire was still maintained along the river side, and there was a
continuous roll of musketry at Courbevoie, where, as one of
the National Guard had told them, a battalion which occupied
the barracks there had been cut off by the advance of the
troops. Artillery and musketry were both at work there, but
elsewhere there was no artillery fire.
Close to the bridge at Neuilly the struggle was maintained
for a time, and presently a column of troops was seen advanc-
ing against the bridge. As it did so the firing there ceased at
once, and it was soon evident that the troops had gained the
position. Numbers of National Guards soon came trooping in
at the gate. A very few remained there, the rest, without
waiting for orders, hurried on into Paris. A dark group now
appeared on the road leading up to Courbeil ; there was a
white puff of smoke, and a shell exploded a hundred yards on
the other side of the gate. A steady fire was now kept up by
two guns, the greater part of the shells exploded beyond the
outer works, but several came up the avenue, two of them
striking houses, and others exploding in the roadway. Each
time when the whistle of a shell was heard approaching, Cuth-
bert drew Mary back from the balcony into the room.
" I fancy," he said, " the troops have an idea that there
are masses of the Communists assembled near the gates in
readiness for a sortie, and they are firing to prevent their
coming out, until they have fortified the bridge and the other
points they have occupied."
The firing continued for some time. At other windows-
the inhabitants were watching the conflict, and Cuthbert
pointed out, to Mary's great amusement, the precautions that
some of them were taking to ensure their personal safety. One-
woman had drawn down the Venetian blinds, and was looking
between them, another was peering out with a pillow held over
her head. The few National Guards who remained at their
post were men of courage, for they showed no signs of flinch-
ing, even when shells exploded within a few yards of the posi-
tion they occupied. Presently there was a sound of wheels,
;ind two four-pounder guns were brought up and placed one on
each side of the gate to sweep the approaches.
Between one and two o'clock several battalions of
National Guards came leisurely up, piled their arms and sat
down under shelter of the wall. It was evident they had no
idea of making a sortie, but had been brought up to defend the
gate in case it was attacked. Soon after their arrival, a party
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 251
that had remained near the river returned, and it was clear
that at least a portion of the troops had proved faithless, for
with them were forty or fifty soldiers, who had come over
daring the fight. They were disarmed and then escorted
into the town, where, as Cuthbert afterwards learned, they
were received with enthusiasm by the mob.
" It is evident that there is no idea of any attempt being
made to recapture the bridge at present, Mary. I don't know
how you feel, but I am getting desperately hungry, so I think
we may as well be going back. I should like to see what is
going on in the city. Will you come with me t I have no
doubt we shall be able to get a venture up at the arch, and we
can have lunch there."
Mary was as anxious to see what was going on as he was,
and in a quarter of an hour they alighted in the Rue Bivoli.
As yet the population had heard but vague reports that
fighting was going on, and matters were comparatively quiet,
for so many rumours had pervaded the town during the last
few days, that they were not generally believed. Accordingly,
after lunch, Cuthbert took Mary home in a. fiacre.
" I have been quite alarmed about you, my dear ; where
have you been ? " Madame Michaud said as they entered.
" We have been seeing the fighting, madame, and the Reds
have been beaten."
" I have heard all sorts of stories about it, but most of
them say that the Versailles people got the worst of it."
" Then the stories were not true," Mary said. " Most of the
National Guard wouldn't fight at all, and the regiments all
broke away and went into Paris without firing a shot. The
troops have taken the bridge of Neuilly.
"The good God be thanked," Madame Michaud said
piously; "my husband was afraid the troops would not
fight, and that we were going to have terrible times; but
there is a hope now that the Commune will be put down."
" Every hope, madame," Cuthbert said. " I was sure this
scum of Paris would not fight if the troops would do so. They
have too much regard for their worthless skins. It may be
some time before M'Mahon can get a force together sufficient
to take Paris, but sooner or later he will do so, though it will
be a serious business with the forts all in the hands of the
Communists. If they had but handed over one or two of the
forts to the gendarmes, or kept a company or two of sailors
there, there would have been a line by which the troops could
have approached the town ; as it is, they will have to bring up
252 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
siege guns and silence Issy and Vanves before much can be
done."
An hour later Monsieur Michaud arrived ; he too had been
in the city, and was in ignorance of what had taken place
during the morning.
" That accounts for it," he said ; " we are all ordered to be
under arms at eight o'clock this evening."
" But you will not go ? " his wife exclaimed anxiously.
" But I must go, my dear. I have no desire to be shot,
and I think there is much more fear of my being shot if I
don't answer to the call of my name than there will be if I do.
In the tirst place, we may not go out beyond the wall ; in the
second place, if there is I may see a chance of running away,
for mind you, though I hope I should have fought as bravely
as others if the Germans had come, I do not feel myself called
upon to fight against Frenchmen, and in a cause I hate."
"You will find yourself in good company anyhow,
Monsieur Michaud," Cuthbert laughed. "We have seen
nineteen hundred and .fifty men out of two thousand march
off without firing a shot to-day."
"So much the better, monsieur; four out of five of the
National Guards hate it all as much as I do. Will you dine
with us to-day, monsieur, and then we can go down together
afterwards 1 "
Cuthbert accepted the invitation willingly. "Yes, you
can come down with us, Mary," he went on in answer to a
look of appeal from her. "I will bring her back safely,
Madame Michaud; the sight will be well worth seeing.
Before I go I will have a look round and see if I can get
a bed for the night. It is a long way out from my lodgings,
and I should like to be out here by daylight, for if they mean
to march on Versailles they are sure to start as soon as it
is light."
" We have a spare room," Madame Michaud said, " and it
is quite at your disposal. It will be doing us a kindness if
you will accept it, for when my husband is away I always feel
nervous without a man in the house, and as it is but ten
minutes' walk from here to the Arc de Triomphe, you will be
on the spot, and, indeed, from the roof of this house you can
obtain a view all over the country."
A great change had taken place in the appearance of Paris
when they went down in the evening. The town was in a
state of the wildest excitement ; everywhere drums were beat-
ing and trumpets sounding; everywhere National Guards
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 253
mustering. The streets were crowded, the most violent
language uttered by the lower classes, and threats of all
kinds poured out against the "butchers of Versailles." On
the walls were red placards issued by the Commune, and
headed "Men of Paris. The butchers of Versailles are
slaughtering your brethren 111"
"Asa rule, the brethren decline to be slaughtered, Mary,"
Cuthbert said, as they read the proclamation. "You see, if
the troops fire they are butchers ; if the National Guards fire
they are heroes. Considering that Paris has ten armed men
to every one M'Mahon has got, even if all the troops could be
relied upon, the Parisians must indeed be of a mild temper if
they submit to be butchered."
Monsieur Michaud now left them to take his place in the
ranks of his battalion. It was not long before the National
Guards were in motion, and for hours columns of troops moved
up the Champs Elysees. The Rue Rivoli was actually choked
with the men ; the mob shouted " Vive la Commune " until
they were hoarse, and the battalions from the working
quarters lustily sang the chorus of the Marseillaise.
At ten o'clock Cuthbert and Mary arrived at the Arc de
Triomphe on their way back. Along the whole line from the
Tuileries the National Guard were bivouacked. The arms
were piled down the centre of the road, and many of the men
had already wrapped themselves in their blankets and lain
down to sleep with their heads on their knapsacks. The wine
shops in the neighbourhood were all crowded, and it was evi-
dent that many of the men had determined to keep it up all
night.
Madame Michaud had coffee ready for them on their
return, and after drinking it they went to their rooms,
Mary being completely tired out with the fatigue and ex-
citement of the day. At five o'clock Cuthbert was up; he
had told Mary the night before that he would return for her
at eight. On arriving at the Arc de Triomphe he found the
National Guards pouring down the avenue to the Port Maillot.
Three heavy columns were marching along the roads which
converged at the bridge of Neuilly. Here Cuthbert expected
a desperate struggle, but a few shots only were fired, and then
a small body of troops covered by a party of skirmishers
retired up the hill, and then turning off made their way
towards Fort Valerien.
The force was evidently insufficient to hold the bridge
against the masses of Revolutionists advancing against it, and
254 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
the real resistance to the forces of the Commune would
commence farther back. Crossing the bridge the National
Guard spread out to the right and left and mounted the hilL
As they did so some eighteen-pounder guns which had been
the day before mounted on the Fort opened fire on the bridge,
and, for a time, the forward movement ceased, and the regi-
ment on their way down towards the gate were halted.
Cuthbert chatted for some time with one of the officers and
learnt from him that this was not the real point of
attack.
"It is from the other side of the river that the great
stroke against the Yersailleises will be struck," he said. " A
hundred and fifty thousand National Guard advanced on
that side. They will cross the heights of Meudon and move
straight to Versailles. We have but some twenty-five
thousand here, and shall advance as soon as the others have
attacked Meudon."
In an hour the forward movement had again commenced ;
a heavy column poured across the bridge, the firing from
Yalerien having now ceased. Cuthbert watched the black
mass advancing up the slope towards CorbeiL It was not
until they reached the top of the slope that Yalerien suddenly
opened fire. Puff after puff of white smoke darted out from
its crest in quick succession, the shells bursting in and
around the heavy column. In a moment its character
changed ; it had been literally cut in half by the iron shower.
Those in front of the point where the storm had struck it
broke off, and fled to the villages of Nanterre on the left,
where they took shelter among the houses. The other
portion of the column broke up as suddenly, and became at
once a disorganised mob, who, at the top of their speed, rushed
down to the slope again to the bridge at Neuilly. Across
this they poured in wild confusion, and made no halt until
they had passed the Forte Maillot. There the officers attempted
to rally them, but in vain. Many had thrown their muskets
away in their flight, the rest slung them behind them and
continued their way to Paris, all vowing that they had been
betrayed, and that they would have vengeance on the Com-
mune. Seeing that there was no more probability of fighting
on this side, Cuthbert returned to Madame Michaud's.
"Madame is on the roof," Margot said as he entered.
" Everyone is up there. She said I was to give you breakfast
when you came in. The coffee is ready, and I have an
omelette prepared; it will be cooked in three minutes.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 255
Madame said that you would be sure to be hungry after being
out so long."
In a quarter of an hour he ascended to the roof. The
resident on the ground floor had an astronomical telescope with
which he was in the habit of reconnoitring the skies from the
garden. This he had taken up to the roof, where some twenty
persons were gathered. A magnificent view was obtained here
of the circle of hills from Yalerien round by Meudon, and the
whole of the left bank of the river. It needed but a glance to
see that the army of the Commune had made but little pro-
gress. Although the fighting began soon after two o'clock
in the morning, and it was now nearly mid-day, the heights of
Meudon were still in the hands of the troops.
From among the trees by the Chdteau white puffs of smoke
shot out, many of the shells bursting in and around the fort
of Issy, which replied briskly. The guns of Vanves joined in
the combat, their fire being directed towards the plateau of
of Chatillon, which was held by the troops. Bound Issy a
force of the National Guard was assembled, but the main
body was in the deep valley between the forts and Meudon,
and on the slopes nearly up to the Chdteau. The rattle of
musketry here was continuous, a light smoke drifting up
through the trees. After a time it was evident that the line
of musketry fire was lower down the hill, descending, showing
that the troops were pressing the Communists backwards,
and presently one of the batteries near the Chdteau shifted its
position and took ground some distance down the hill, and this
and a battery near the end of the viaduct by the Clidteau
opened a heavy fire on the forts.
A look through the telescope showed that the Communists
were crouching behind walls and houses ; occasionally, when
the fire of the guns was silent, a few of them would get up
and advance into the open, but only to scamper back into
shelter as soon as they re-opened fire.
" That settles it, monsieur," Cuthbert said to the owner of
the telescope, after taking a long look through it. " Hitherto
the Communists have believed that Versailles was at their
mercy, and they had but to march out to capture it. They have
failed, and failure means their final defeat. They say that the
prisoners of war are arriving in Versailles at the rate of two
or three thousand a day, and in another fortnight Thiers will
have a force sufficient to take the offensive, and by that time
will doubtless have siege guns in position. I don't say that
Paris may not hold out for a considerable time, but it must
256 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
fall in the long run, and I fear that all who have got anything:
to lose will have a very bad time of it."
"I fear so, monsieur; as these wretches become more
desperate, they will proceed to greater lengths. You see
they have already insisted that all the National Guard —
whatever their opinions — shall join in the defence of the city.
They have declared the confiscation of the goods of any
member of the Guard who shall leave the town. I hear a>
decree is likely to be published to-morrow, or next day,
confiscating all Church property; already they have taken
possession of the churches, and turned them into clubs. If they
do such things now, there is no saying to what lengths they
may go as they see their chances of success diminishing daily."
Although the artillery fire was maintained for some time
longer, it was by three o'clock evident that the battle was
virtually over. The party therefore descended from the roof,
and Cuthbert strolled back to the centre of Paris. The
streets that evening presented a very strong contrast to the
scene of excitement that had reigned twenty-four hours before.
There was no shouting and singing; no marching of great
bodies of troops. An air of gloom pervaded the lower classes,
while the bourgeois remained for the most part in their
houses, afraid that the deep satisfaction the events of the day
had caused them might betray itself in their faces.
For the next few days Cuthbert worked steadily, going up
late in the afternoon to Passy. The Commune had, on the
day after the failure against Versailles, issued a decree that
all unmarried men from seventeen to thirty-five should join
the ranks, and a house-to-house visitation was ordered, to see
that none escaped the operation of the decree. One of these
parties visited Cuthbert. It consisted of a man with a red
sash, and two others in the uniform of the National Guard.
As soon as they were satisfied of Cuthbertfs nationality they
left, having been much more civil than he had expected. He
thought it advisable, however, to go at once to the Hotel de
Yille, where, on producing his passport, he was furnished with
a document bearing the seal of the Commune, certifying that,
being a British subject, Cuthbert Hartington was exempt
from service, and was allowed to pass anywhere without
molestation.
Equal good luck did not attend the other students, all of
whom were, to their intense indignation* enrolled upon the
list of the National Guard of their quarter. Cuthbert had
difficulty in retaining a perfectly serious countenance as Rene,
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 257
Pierre, and two or three others came in to tell him what had
occurred.
" And there is no getting away from it," Bene said. " If
we had thought that it would come to this, of course, we
would have left Paris directly this affair began, but now it is
impossible; no tickets are issued by the railways except to
old men, women and children; no one is allowed to pass
through the gates without a permit from the Commune, and
even if one could manage to get on to the wall and drop down
by a rope, one might be taken and shot by the Communist
troops outside, or, if one got through them, by the sentries of
the army of "Versailles. What would you advise us to do,
Cuthbert?"
" I am afraid I can't give yon any advice whatever, Rene ;
it is certainly horribly unpleasant being obliged to fight in a
cause you detest, but I don't think there will be a very great
deal of fighting till an assault is made on the city, and when that
begins I should say the Communists will be too busy to look
for absentees from the ranks."
" We shall be in double danger then," Pierre Leroux put
in. " We run the risk of being shot by the Communists for
not fighting at the barricades, and if we escape that, we have
a chance of being shot by the Yersailleises as Communists. It
is a horrible position to be placed in."
"Well, I should say, Pierre, keep your eyes open and
escape, if you possibly can, before the assault takes place. I
should think some might manage to get out as women, but,
of course, you would have to sacrifice your moustaches. But
if you did that, and borrowed the papers of some young woman
or other, you might manage it. No doubt it would be
awkward if you were found out, but it might be worth trying.
If I cannot leave before the assault takes place, I mean to go
to one of the English hotels here — Meurice's or the Dover —
and establish myself there. During such fighting as there
may be in the streets, there will be very few questions asked,
and one might be shot before one could explain one was a
foreigner; but the hotels are not likely to be disturbed.
Seriously, I should say that the best thing you can all do when
the fighting begins in the streets, is to keep out of the way
until your battalion is engaged, then burn anything in the way
of uniform, get rid of your rife somehow, and gather at
Goud6's, he could vouch for you all as being his pupils, and as
being wholly opposed to the Commune. His name should be
sufficiently well known, if not, to the first officer who may
258 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
arrive, at least, to many officers, for his testimony to be
accepted. Still, I do think that the best plan of all will be
to get out of the place when you get a chance.
Some of the students did succeed in getting out. Pierre
and two others made their way down through the drains,
came out on the river at night, and swam across. One of the
youngest went out by train dressed as a woman, but the rest
were forced to don the uniform and take their places in the
ranks of the National Guard. The question of leaving Paris
was frequently discussed by Cuthbert and Mary Brander, but
they finally determined to stay. It was morally certain that
the troops would enter Paris either at the Porte Maillot, or
at the gate of Pont du Jour, or, at anyrate, somewhere on
that side of Paris. Once inside the walls they would meet
with no resistance there— the fighting would only commence
when they entered the city itself. Passy was to a large extent
inhabited by well-to-do people, and it was not here that the
search for Communists would begin. The troops would here
be greeted as benefactors.
" I do not think there is the smallest risk, Mary ; if there
were I should say at once that we had better be off, and I
would escort you down to Cornwall, but as there seems to me
no danger whatever, I should say let us stick to our original
plan. I own I should like to see the end of it all. You
might amuse yourself at present by making a good-sized
Union Jack, which you can hang out of your window when
the troops enter. When I see the time approaching I intend
to make an arrangement with the Michauds to establish
myself here, so as to undertake the task of explaining, if
necessary, but I don't think any explanation will be asked.
It is likely enough that as soon as the troops enter they will
establish themselves in this quarter before making any further
advance ; they will know that they have hard fighting before
them, and until they have overcome all opposition, will have
plenty to think about, and will have no time to spare in
making domiciliary visits."
A WOMAX OP THE COMMUNE 259
CHAPTER XXIII
Arnold Dampikrre had moved from his lodgings in the
<Juartier Latin at the outbreak of the insurrection, and had
taken up his abode in one of the streets leading up to Mont-
martre. There he was in close connection with many of the
leaders of the Commune, his speeches and his regular attend-
ance at their meetings, his connection with Dufaure, who was
the president of one of the revolutionary committees, and
with his daughter, and the fact that he was an American,
had rendered him one of the most conspicuous characters in
the quarter. He would have been named one of the delegates
of the Council of the Commune, but he refused the honour,
preferring to remain, as he said, "The representative of the
great Republic across the seas."
More than once Cuthbert met him as he rode about, but
only once did they speak. Cuthbert was crossing the square
in front of the Hotel de Ville, when he saw Arnold Dam-
pierre. The latter was on foot and did not notice Cuthbert
until he was within a few yards of him. As his eye fell on him
he 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? There has been no quarrel between us, and
the last time we met was when we were lying next to each
other in the ambulance."
Dampierre took the offered hand, " No, no," he said with
nervous quickness, "no quarrel at all, Hartington, but you
see we have gone different ways — that is to say, I have gone
out of your way, and thought that you would not care to con-
tinue the acquaintance."
" There is no such feeling on my part, I can assure you. There
need be no question between us as to the part you have taken.
I am sorry, but it is no concern of mine, and after living in
the same house for a year or so, and having faced death side
by side at Champigny, no difference of political opinion should
interfere with our friendship. Besides, you know," he added,
with a laugh, " I may want to get you to exert your influence
on my behalf. Events are thickening. In troubled times it
is always well to have a friend at court, and if I come to be
treated as a suspect, I shall refer to you for a character as a
peaceable and well-intentioned student of art."
*260 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"There is no fear of anything of that sort, Harrington;
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 fairly roused now and will soon sweep
the butchers of Versailles before them, and a reign of perfect
freedom of equality will be established, and the world will
witness the spectacle of a free country, purging itself from
the tyranny of capital and the abuse of power, under which
it has so long groaned. But I have much to do and
must be off," and with a hasty shake of the hand he hurried
away again.
Cuthbert looked after him. "The poor fellow is fast
qualifying for a madhouse/' he said ; " he has changed sadly,
his cheeks are hollow aud his eyes unnaturally brilliant ; those
patches of colour on his cheeks are signs of fever rather than
of health. That woman, Minette, is responsible for this ruin.
It must end badly one way or the other. The best thing that
could happen to him would be to fall in one of these sorties.
He has made himself so conspicuous that he is almost certain
to be shot when the troops take Paris, unless, indeed, he be-
comes an actual lunatic before that. Wound up as he is by
excitement and enthusiasm he will never bring himself to-
sneak off in disguise, as most of the men who have stirred up
this business will do."
The time passed quickly enough in Paris, events followed
each other rapidly, there was scarce a day without fightings
more or less serious. Gradually the troops wrested position
after position from the Communists, but not without heavy
fighting. The army at Versailles had swelled so rapidly by
the arrival of the prisoners from Germany, that even in Paris,
where the journals of the Commune endeavoured to keep up
the spirits of the defenders by wholesale lying as to the result
of the fighting outside its walls, it was known that at least
a hundred thousand men were now gathered at Versailles.
" There is no doubt of one thing," Cuthbert said, as stand-
ing with Mary on the Trocadero, they one day watched the-
duel when the guns at Meudon were replying vigorously to
the fire of the forts, "I must modify my first opinions as to-
the courage of the Communists. They have learnt to fight,
and allowing for all the exaggeration and bombast of their
proclamations, they now stand admirably; they have more
than once retaken positions from which they have been driven,
and although very little is said about their losses, I was
talking yesterday to a surgeon in one of the hospitals, and he-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 261
tells me that already they must be as great as those through-
out the whole of the first siege."
"They are still occasionally subject to panics. For in-
stance, there was a bad one the other night when the troops
took the Chateau of Becon, and again at Clamart, but I fancy
that is owing to the mistake the Communists made in forcing
men who are altogether opposed to them into their ranks. These
men naturally bolt directly they are attacked, and that causes
a panic among the others who would have fought had the rest
stood. Still, altogether they are fighting infinitely better
than expected, and at Clamart they fought really well in the
open for the first time. Before, I own that my only feelings
towards the battalions of beetle-browed ruffians from the
faubourgs was disgust, how I am beginning to feel a respect
for them ; but it makes the prospect here all the darker.
" I have no doubt that as soon as M'Mahon has got all
his batteries into position he will open such a fire as will
silence the forts and speedily make breaches in the walls ; but
the real fighting won't begin till they enter. The barricades
were at first little more than breastworks, but they have
grown and grown until they have become formidable fortifi-
cations, and, if stoutly defended, and with every house occu-
pied by 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 Communists fight as desperately as
we may now expect, in their despair, the work of clearing the
whole city must occupy many days."
" It will be very unpleasant in Passy when the batteries
on all those heights open fire."
" It would, indeed, if they were to direct their fire in this
direction, or they could wipe Passy out altogether in a few
hours ; but everything shews 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 been injured. 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.
It would be a mere waste of shot to fire up there, and if the
Versailles people were to do unnecessary damage it would
bring them into odium throughout all France, for it would be
said that they were worse than the Prussians."
On the 25th of April, at eight o'clock in the morning, the
long silence of the besiegers' batteries ended. Cuthbert was
taking his coffee when he heard a sound like the rumble of a
ti
it
262 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
heavy waggon ; he ran to his window, there was quiet in the-
street below, for everyone had stopped abruptly to listen to the
roar, and from every window heads appeared. Completing
his dressing hastily, he went out and took the first fiacre he-
met and drove to Passy. The rumble had deepened into a
heavy roar; the air quivered with the vibrations, and thfr
shriek of the shells mingled with the deep booming of the-
guns. When he entered Madame Michaud's, she, her husband
and Mary were standing at the open window.
"We have just come down from the top of the house, ,r
Mary said ; " it is a grand sight from there. Will you come up,
Cuthbert?"
" Certainly, Mary. You see I was right, and there do not
seem to be any shell coming this way."
" No. But we were all desperately alarmed, were we not,
madame ? when they began."
"It was enough to alarm one," Madame Michaud said
indignantly. " Half the windows were broken, and that was.
enough to startle one even without the firing."
It was perfectly natural, madame," Cuthbert agreed;
the first shock is always trying, and even soldiers with
seasoned nerves might be excused for starting, when such a
din as this commenced."
Cuthbert and Mary went up at once to the roof, where
the old gentleman from below had already set up his telescope.
He did not need that, however, to observe what was going on.
Along almost the whole crest of the eminences round the
south and west, heavy guns were playing upon the defences.
From the heights of Chatillon, the puffs of white smoke came
thick and fast, the battery at the Chateau of Meudon was.
hard at work, as were those of Brimborien and Breteuil.
Mount Valerien was joining in the fray, while batteries on
the plateau of Villejuit' were firing at the forts of Montrouge
and Bic&tre. Without exception, the greater part of the firo
was concentrated upon the forts of Issy and Vanves, while
attention was also being paid to the batteries at Point de-
Jour and Porte Maillot.
The Communists replied to the fire steadily, although Issy,
which came in 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 the defenders. It was difficult indeed to
see how often it replied, for the shells burst so frequently on
it that it was difficult to distinguish between their flashes and
those of its guns. Through the telescope could be seen how
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 263
terrible was the effect of the fire ; already the fort had lost
the regularity of its shape, and the earth, with which it had
been thickly covered, was pitted with holes. Presently there
was an outburst of firing comparatively close at hand.
" That is the battery on the Trocadero," one of the party
exclaimed. " I think that they must be firing at Valerien, I
saw several spurts of smoke close to it."
"I hope not," Cuthbert said, "for if Valerien answers,
our position here will 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 pood shot," the astronomer said, as he sat
with his eye at his telescope watching the fort. "A shell
burst right on one of the embrasures."
A minute of two later came a rushing sound, rising rapidly
to a scream ; instinctively most of those on the roof ducked
their bends.
"Valerein 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 reduced to silence. While the fire was going
on those on the roof went below, for although the precision
with which the artillerymen fired was so excellent that there
was but slight danger, the trial to the nerves from the rush
of the heavy shell was so great that they were glad to leave
the roof and to take their places at the windows below.
The danger was no less, for had a shell struck the
house and exploded it would have wrecked the whole build-
ing, but there was some sense of safety in drawing back
behind the shelter of the wall as the missiles were heard
approaching.
To the disappointment of the middle class who still re-
mained in Paris, the bombardment was only partly renewed
on the following day, and then things went on as before. It
was supposed that its effects, great as they had been on the
forts mot exposed to it, had not come up to the expectations
of the besiegers, and the telescope showed that the troops
were hard at work erecting a great battery on Montretout,
an eminence near St Cloud. On the night of the 5th of May
the whole of the batteries opened fire again, and the troops
made a desperate effort to cut the force in Issy from communi-
cation either with the town or with Vanves. The National
Guard poured out from the city and for some hours the fight-
264 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
ing was very severe, the troops at last succeeding in their
object; but as soon as they had done so the guns on the
enceinte and those of Yanves opened so tremendous a fire
upon them, that they were forced to abandon the positions
they had won.
At the railway station at Clamart there was also heavy
fighting, the National Guard attacked suddenly, and in such
overwhelming numbers, that after a short but desperate re-
sistance the garrison of the station were forced to retire.
Reinforcements were soon brought up, the troops again
advanced, and the insurgents were driven out. Their loss
during the night was put down as a thousand. On the 8th
Montretout, which was armed with seventy-two heavy guns,
opened fire, the rest of the batteries joined in, and for a
couple of hours the din was terrific. The next day Issy was
captured by the troops. They attacked the village at day-
break, and, advancing slowly, capturing house by house, they
occupied the church and market-place at noon. Just as they
had done so a battalion of insurgents were seen advancing to
reinforce the garrison of the fort. They were allowed to
advance to within fifty yards, when a heavy volley was poured
into them. They halted for a moment, but their colonel
rallied them. He was, 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 the village was carried
with a rush, and when the troops reached the gate of the
fort it was found open. It was at once occupied, the whole
of the defenders having fled, as they saw that the steady
advance of the troops would, if they remained, cut them off
from escape. The fall of the fort was so unexpected that
the batteries on the heights continued to fire upon it for some
time after the troops had gained possession.
The capture of Issy created an immense effect in Paris.
General Rossel resigned the command of the insurgent army.
He had been a colonel of the Engineers, and was an officer of
merit, but his political opinions had proved too much for his
loyalty to his country and profession ; doubtless he had deemed
that if, as at first seemed probable, the insurrection would be
successful and the revolution triumph, he would become its
Napoleon. He now saw the ruin of his hopes ; he had for-
feited his position and his life, and in the proclamation he
issued announcing his resignation he poured out all the bitter-
ness of his disappointment, and told the Commune his opinion
of them, namely, that they were utterly incapable, without
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 265
an idea of the principles either of liberty or of order, and filled
only with jealousy and hatred of each other. So scathing was
the indictment that he was at once arrested, but managed to
make his escape.
The fire from the batteries on the assailants' right was now
concentrated upon Vanves, which was evacuated by the insur-
gents two days later. The fall of these forts left the position
at Point de Jour unsupported, and indeed the guns remounted
at Issy took its defenders in flank, and rendered it impossible
for them to work their guns. In their despair the Commune
now threw off the mask of comparative moderation, and pro-
ceeded to imitate to its fullest extent the government of the
Jacobins. Decrees were passed for the establishment of
courts to arrest, try and execute suspected persons without
delay, and, under the false pretence that prisoners taken by
the troops had been executed, the murder of the Archbishop
of Paris and other priests, who had been taken and thrown
into prison as hostages, was decided upon.
Upon the fall of Issy being known, Cathbert considered
the end to be so near that it would be better for him to take
up his abode permanently at Madame Michaud's. She had
been pressing him to do so for some time, as she and her hus-
band thought that the presence of an English gentleman there
would conduce to their safety when the troops entered Paris.
He had, indeed, spent most of his time there for the last three
weeks, but had always returned to his lodgings at night ; he
therefore packed up his 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, 19 the latter said. " I have
been to our old place and found that you had left. Minette
and I are to be married to-morrow — a civil marriage of course,
and I should be very glad if you will be present as a witness.
There is no saying who will be alive at the end of another
week, and I should like the marriage to be witnessed by you."
"I will do so with pleasure, Arnold, though it seems
scarcely a time for marrying. ,,
" That is true ; but if we escape, we must escape together.
If I am killed I 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 register of our marriage. Where
will she be able to find you after all this is over ?"
Cuthbert gave his address at Madame Michaud's.
" I don't suppose I shall stay there long after all is finished
2C6 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
here,* he said, "but they will know where to forward any
letters to me. Would it not be better, Arnold, for you to
throw up all this at once and return to your old lodgings,
where you may perhaps remain quietly until the search for the
leaders of this affair relaxes ? "
Arnold shook his head gloomily. " I must go through it
to the end. The cause is a noble one, and it is not because
its leaders are base, and at the 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 oi The marriage
will take place at the Maire of Montmartre at eleven o'clock
to-morrow."
" I will be there, Arnold." Cuthbert walked slowly back
to Paasy. He was shocked at the dismal shipwreck, of what
had seemed a bright and pleasant future, of the man of whom
he had seen so much for upwards of a year. Dampierre's life
had seemed to offer a fairer chance of happiness and prosperity
than that of any other of the students at Monsieur Goud#s.
He had an estate amply sufficient to live upon in comfort, and
even affluence ; and he had artistic tastes that would save him
from becoming, like many southern planters, a mere lounger
through life. His fatal love for Minette had caused him to
throw himself into this insurrection, and to take so prominent
a part in it that the chance of his life being spared, did he fall
into the hands of the troops, was small indeed ; even did lie
succeed in escaping with Minette, his chances of happiness in
the future seemed to Cuthbert to be faint indeed. With her
passionate impulses she would speedily weary of the tranquil
and easy life on a southern plantation, and with her to weary
was to seek change, and however that change might come
about, it would bring no happiness 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 ashamed of myself even to think that I should have
suspected you of caring for that woman we saw on horseback
the other day."
" Then we will call her your supposed rival, Mary. Yes,
she is going to be married to Arnold Dampierre to-morrow."
" What a time to choose for it," she said, with a shudder ;
" in a few days Paris will be deluged with blood, for the Com-
mune boasts that every street is mined."
" We need not believe all that, Mary ; no doubt the prin-
cipal streets have been mined, but the Commune have made
A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE 267
such a boast of the fact that 70a may be sure the French
generals will avoid the great thoroughfares as much as possible,
and will torn the barricades by advancing along the narrow
streets and lanes; besides, it is one thing to dig mines and
charge them, and quite another thing to explode them at the
right moment in the midst of a desperate fight However, I
aqree with you that it is a dismal business, but Arnold ex-
plained to me that he did it because he and Minette might
have to fly together, or, that if he fell, she might inherit his
property. He did not seem to foresee that she too might fall,
which is to my mind as likely as his own death, for, as in
former fights here, the female Communists will be sure to take
their place in the barricades with the men, and if so, I will
guarantee that Minette will be one of the foremost to do so.
The production of female fiends seem to be one of the peculi-
arities of French revolutions. As I told you, I am going to
the wedding in order to sign as a witness; I could hardly
refuse what I regard as the poor fellow's last request, though
it will be a most distasteful business."
" The last time you spoke to him you said it struck you
that he was going out of his mind."
" Yes, I thought so, and think so still ; his manner was
changed to-day ; before, he had that restless, nervous, excit-
able look that is the indication of one phase of insanity;
to-day, there was the gloomy, brooding sort of look that is
equally characteristic of another form of madness.
" At the same time that might be well explained by the
circumstances, and I have not the same absolute conviction
in his sanity that I had before. I suppose you will not care
to honour the wedding ceremony by your presence ? n
"No, no, Cuthbert, not for anything. You cannot think
that I should like to be present at such a ghastly ceremony.
I thought the churches were all shut up."
" So they are ; the marriage is to be a civil one. They
will merely declare themselves man and wife in the presence
of an official ; he will enter them as such in a register, »nd
the affair will be over. I would not say so to Arnold, but
I have serious doubt whether the American authorities would
recognise the ceremony as a legal one, did she ever appear
there to claim possession. Of course, if he gets away also,
it can be put right by another marriage when they get out,
or they can stop for a few weeks on their way through Eng-
land, and be married again there."
" It is all most horrid, Cuthbert."
268 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
"Well, if you see it in that light, Mary, I won't press
you to go to-morrow, and will give up any passing idea that
I may have had, that we 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 had nothing more to do with you."
" Oh, yes you would, Mary, you could not have helped
yourself, and you would, in a very short time, have made
excuses for me on the ground of my natural anxiety to waste
no further time before securing my happiness."
" No one could expect any happiness after being married
in that sort of way. No, sir, when quite a long time on, we
do get married, it shall be in a church in a proper and decent
manner. I don't know that I might not be persuaded to make
a sacrifice and do without bridesmaids or even a wedding break-
fast, but everything else must be strictly en rfyle."
The next morning at the appointed hour, Cuthbert went
up to Montmartre. Several men, whose red scarves showed
that they belonged to the Government of the Commune, were
standing outside. They looked with some surprise at Cuth-
bert 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 also to witness the marriage of our noble
American friend to the daughter of our colleague, Dufaure.
Dampierre is within, Dufaure will be here with his daughter
in a few minutes." Cuthbert passed through, and entered
the office where a Commissary of the Commune was sitting
at a table. Arnold was speaking to him. He turned as
Cuthbert entered.
"Thank you, Hartington. This is not exactly what I had
pictured would be the scene at my wedding, but it is not
my fault that it must be managed this way, and I intend
to have the ceremony repeated if we get safely to England.
After all, it is but what you call a Gretna Green marriage.
"Yes, as you say, you can be married again, Arnold,
which would certainly 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 scarves. Arnold
also wore one of these insignia. Minette was in her dress as
a Vivcmdidre. She held out her hand frankly to Cuthbert.
" I am glad to see you here, monsieur," she said. " It is
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 269
good that Arnold should have one of his own people as a
witness. You never liked me very much, I know, but it
makes no difference now."
" Please to take your places," the officer said. Cuthbert
stepped back a pace. Arnold took his place in front of the
table with Minette by his side, her father standing close to her.
" There is nothing, Arnold Dampierre," the official asked,
" in the laws of your country that would prevent you makiDg
a binding marriage ¥ "
" Nothing whatever. When a man is of age in America
he is free to contract any marriage he chooses without ob-
taining the consent of any relation whatever."
The official made a note of this. "Martin Dufaure, do
you give your sanction and consent to the marriage of your
daughter with Arnold Dampierre, American citizen f "
" 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 as the man who had fired
lowered his pistol to repeat the shot, he sprang forward, 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 cry like that of a wounded animal, Minette had turned
round, snatched a dagger from her girdle, and, as the man
fell, she sprang to his side and leant over him with uplifted
knife. Cuthbert caught her wrist as she was about to strike.
"Do not soil your hand with blood, Minette,' 9 he said
quietly as she turned fiercely upon him. u Arnold would not
like it. Leave this fellow to justice, and give your attention
to him."
Dropping the knife she ran forward to the table again.
Two or three of Arnold's colleagues were already leaning over
him. Believing that her lover was dead, Minette would have
thrown herself on his body, but they restrained her.
" He is not dead, Minette ; the wound is not likely to be
fatal ; he is only hit in the shoulder."
" You are lying ! You are lying ! He is dead ! " Minette
cried, struggling to free 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 was broken before * he will recover child ; calm
yourself, I order you."
270 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Minette ceased to struggle, and burst into a passion of tears.
" You had better send a man to fetch a surgeon at once,"
Outhbert said to one of the Communists. " I have no doubt
Arnold has but fainted from the shock, coming as it did at
such a moment.' 1 He then looked at the wound.
" ,f Tis not so serious as the last," he said, "by a long way ;
it is higher, and has, no doubt, broken the collar bone, but
that is not a very serious matter. I think we had better lay
him down on that bench, put a coat under his head, pour a
few drops of spirits between his lips, and sprinkle his face with
cold water."
Cuthbert then went across the room. Several of the Com-
munists were standing 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 an ox. It is the best thing for him, for as-
suredly he would have been hung before nightfall for this
attempt upon the life of our good American colleague."
Cuthbert stooped down and felt the pulse of the fallen man.
" I am afraid he is dead," he said ; " certainly I had no
intention of killing 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 one whether he was shot by a bullet of the Versailleises
or hung or killed by a blow of an Englishman's fist. Mon-
sieur le Commissaire, will you draw up a procefrverbal of this
affair?"
But the Commissary did not answer ; in the confusion no
one had noticed that he had not risen from his chair, but sat
leaning back.
" Diable ! what is this ? " the Communist went on. " I be-
lieve the Commissary is 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 had died without a cry or
a movement.
" McwrhUau ! " another of the Communists exclaimed, " we
•came here to witness a comedy, and it has turned into a
tragedy."
An exclamation from Minette, who was kneeling by Arnold,
railed Cuthbertfs attention to her. The American had opened
his eyes.
"What has happened, Minette?" he asked, as she laid her
head down on his breast, and burst into another fit of pas-
sionate sobbing.
I
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 271
"You are out of luck, Arnold," Cuthbert said cheer-
fully; "a villain has fired at yon, 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 is not a very
serious business, you know. Be quiet for a little time, we shall
have the surgeon here directly. Of course Minette is terribly
upset, 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
tbem to themselves. The two bodies had by this time been
carried into another room, and one of the delegates took his
seat at tbe table, and drew out a formal report of the occur-
rences that had taken place, which was signed by the others
present and by Cuthbert. A surgeon presently arriving, con-
firmed Cuthbert '8 view that the collar bone had been broken,
•and proceeded to bandage it
As soon as it was done, Arnold stood up unsteadily.
" Citizen Rigaud, I presume that, as a high official of the
Commune, you can replace the citizen 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 predeces-
sor has already recorded your answers, there remains but for
me to complete the ceremony."
A minute later Arnold Dampierre and Minette were pro-
nounced man and wife, and signed the register, Martin Du-
faure, Cuthbert and the various deputies present signing as
witnesses. AJiacre had been called up, and was in readiness
at the door. Cuthbert assisted Arnold to take his place in it.
" If I were you, Arnold," he whispered, " I would go to the
old lodgingB ; of course they are still vacant. If you prefer it,
you can take mine ; I still keep them on, though I have moved
for a time. It will be be better for you in every way not to
be up here at Montmartre."
" Thank you ; it would anyhow be quieter. Will you tell
the coachman where to drive ? "
"I will go on the box," Cuthbert said; "of course Du-
faure will go with you." 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 tbem, and I will go on the
272 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
box," Cuthbert said . " Keep Minette talking, it will prevent
her breaking down ; it has been a terrible shock for her."
The landlady was heartily glad to see Dampierre back
again. Cuthbert and the Communist assisted the wounded
man to bed.
"I will see about getting things in at present," Cuthbert
said, " so do not worry over that, Minette. If everything goes
well, he will be about again in a few days, but keep him quiet
as long as you can. I will come in to-morrow and see how he
is getting on."
After going round to a restaurant, and ordering meals to
be sent in regularly, with some bottles of wine for Martin
Dufaure's benefit, Cuthbert returned to Passy.
CHAPTER XXIV
Mary was greatly shocked upon hearing the tragic circum-
stances that had occurred at the wedding.
"Who is the man that fired, Cuthbert?"
" His name is Jean Diantre. I heard from Dufaure that
he has been a lover of Minette's. He said she had never
given him any encouragement, but acknowleged that he him-
self believed she might have taken him at last if she had not
met Dampierre. He said that he had been uneasy for some
time, for the man had become so moody and savage that he
had feared ill would come of it. He was the same man who
nearly stabbed me three months ago, taking me for Dampierre."
"It is shocking to think that you have killed a man,
Cuthbert."
" It may be shocking to you, Mary, but the matter does
not weigh on my conscience at all. In the first place, I had no
idea of killing him ; and in the second, if I had not hit hard
and quickly, he would have fired again and killed Arnold ;
lastly, I regard those Communists as no better than mad dogs,
and the chances are ten to one that he would have been shot at
the barricades, or afterwards, if he had not died when he did."
" It is all very terrible," Mary sighed.
" It has all been terrible from beginning to end, Mary, but
as hundreds of men are killed every day, and there will pro-
bably be thousands shot when the troops enter Paris. I cannot
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 273
regard the death of a would-be murderer as a matter that will
weigh on my mind for a moment. And now what has been
going on here. I hardly had time to notice whether the firing
was heavy."
"It has been tremendous," she said. "Several houses
have been struck and set on fire lower down, but no shells
have come this way."
" I have no doubt the troops imagine that all the houses
down near Pont du Jour are crowded with Communists in
readiness to repel any assault that might be made. The
army is doubtless furious at the destruction of the Column of
Venddme, which was in commemoration, not only of Napoleon,
but of the victories won by French armies. Moreover, I know
from newspapers that have been brought in from outside, and
which I have seen at the cafd, that they are incensed to the
last degree by being detained here, when but for this insurrec-
tion, they would have been given a furlough to visit their
families when they returned from the German prisons. So
that I can quite understand the artillerymen taking a shot
occasionally at houses they believe to be occupied by the
insurgents."
" You may be sure of one thing, and that is that very
little quarter will be shown to the Communists by the troops.
Even now, I cannot but hope, that seeing the impossibility of
resisting many days longer, and the certainty of a terrible
revenge if the troops have to fight their way through the
streets, the Communists will try to surrender on the best terms
they can get. Thiers has all along shown such extreme un-
willingness to force the fighting, that I am sure he would give
far better terms than they could have any right to expect,
rather than that Paris should be the scene of a desperate
struggle, and, if the Communists fulfil their threats, of whole-
sale destruction and ruin."
Two more days passed. Cuthbert went down each day to
his old lodging, and found that Arnold was doing well On
the second day, indeed, he was out of bed with his arm in a
sling, and sitting partly dressed in an easy-chair. Martin
Dufaure had left that morning for his own lodging, having
slept for the last two nights on the sofa. Minette had made
everything about the rooms tidy and fresh, the windows were
open, and the distant roar of the bombardment could be plainly
heard She had a white handkerchief tied over her head, a
neat, quiet dress, and was playing the rtile of nurse to perfec-
tion. Cuthbert had been round to ^lonsieur Qoude and bad
s
1
274 A WOMAN OF THB COMMUNE
told him what had happened, and he had the evening before
dropped in for a talk with Arnold.
" I am getting on wonderfully, Cuthbert," Arnold said, on
the tatter's second visit. " Of course it is trying to be sitting
here incapable of taking a part in what is going on."
" You have taken quite enough part, Arnold, and I own I
think your wound at the present moment is a fortunate one,
for it will keep you out of mischief. "When the surgeon comes
next I should strongly advise you to get him to write you a
certificate certifying that you have been wounded by a pistol
ball, so that if, as is probable, there will, sooner or later, be a
general search for Communists, you can prove that your injury
was not received in the fighting outside the walls, and you
can refer to Goude* and me as to the fact that you are an arc
student here. Both documents had better be made out in
another name than your own, for, unfortunately, yours has
been rendered familiar to them by the frequent notices of
your doings and speeches in the papers here."
" I will see about it," Arnold said. " I do not know that
I can bring myself to that."
" You will be very foolish and wrong not to do so, Arnold.
You are a married man now, and have your wife to think
about as well as yourself. You may be sure that there is not
a single leader of the insurrection here who will not en-
deavour to escape under a false name. Besides, even grant-
ing that, as you believe, the cause is a righteous one, you
certainly cannot benefit it in the slightest by sacrificing your
life. Your wife was a Communist vivandiZre a few days 'ago,
now she is a quiet little wife nursing a sick husband." Glanc-
ing at Minette he saw an angry flush on her face, and a look
of dogged determination. He made no remark, however, and
after chatting with Arnold for some time, returned to Passy.
" That woman will bring destruction on them both or I
am mistaken," he said to Mary. " Fond as she may be of
Dampierre, her enthusiasm for the Commune will take her
from his side when the last struggle begins. Do you know,
Mary, my presentiments about her have turned out marvel-
lously correct." He opened his sketch book. " Look at that,"
he said. " At the time I sketched it she was poised as a
Spanish dancer, and had castanets in her hand. The attitude
is precisely that in which she stood as a model, but it struck
me at the moment that a knife would be more appropriate to
her than a Castanet, and you see I drew her so, and that is
the precise attitude she stood in, dagger in hand, when I
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 273
caught her wrist and prevented her from stabbing the man at
her feet"
" Don't show them to me, Cuthbert ; it frightens me when
you talk of her."
" You must remember that she is a mixture, Mary. She
is like a panther, as graceful and as supple, a charming beast
when it purrs and rubs itself against the legs of its keeper,
terrible when in passion it hurls itself upon him. In the
early days tbe students were, to a man, fascinated with her.
I stood quite alone in my disapproval. Seeing her as I saw
her to-day, I admit that she is charming, but I cannot forget
her fury as she bounded, knife in hand, upon the man I had
knocked down. Listen ! do you hear that rattle of musketry
down by Pont du Jour ? the troops must be working their way
up towards the gate. Possibly it is the beginning of the end."
Presently a Communist, with a red sash, rode furiously
past, and in a quarter of an hour returned with a battalion
of National Guards, who had been stationed near the Arc de
Triomphe.
" Evidently there is some sharp business going on, Mary.
It is hardly likely tbe troops can be attacking at this time of
•day ; they would be sure to choose early morning, mass their
forces under cover of darkness, and go at the gate at day-
break. Still, there is no doubt from that musketry firing
they must be trying to establish themselves nearer the gate
than before. ,,
The batteries that had all day been playing upon Pont du
Jour had suddenly ceased firing, but the rattle of musketry in
that direction continued as hotly as ever for another two
hours, and a number of field guns joined in the conflict on
the side of the Communists.
"I really must go and find out what it is all about,"
Cuthbert said. " If I could get up near the viaduct I should
be able to look down into the bastions at Pont du Jour."
" Don't be away long," Mary urged. " I shall be feeling
very nervous till you get back."
" I won't be long. I sha'n't stay to watch the affair, but
only just to find out what the situation is. The fact that the
Communists have brought up field artillery shows that it is
something more than ordinary, although why the batteries
opposite should have ceased to play I cannot make out ; they
are hard at work everywhere else."
Cuthbert made his way towards the viaduct, and as he
approached it saw that some of the ne ^ gun* ne na< * heard
276 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
had been placed there, and that the parapet was lined with
National Guards, who were keeping up an incessant fire.
Shells from Meudon and Fort Issy were bursting thickly over
and near the bridge, and Cuthbert, seeing that he could not
get further without being exposed to the fire, and might,
moreover, get into trouble with the Communists, made his-
way down towards Pont du Jour. Several people were stand-
ing in shelter behind the wall of one of the villas.
" You had better not go farther," one of them said ; " a>
shell burst twenty yards lower down a few minutes ago.
Several of the villas are in flames, and bullets are flying about
everywhere."
"What is going on, gentlemen?" Cuthbert asked as he-
joined them.
" The troops have entered Pont du Jour."
" Impossible ! " Cuthbert exclaimed. " The firing ha*
been heavy, but no heavier than usual, and although the
village is knocked to pieces, as I saw for myself yesterday,.
no great harm was done to the bastions."
" They have entered for all that," one of the gentlemen
said. " Several wounded Communists have come along here,,
and they have all told the same story. Of course they put it
down to the treachery of their leaders, but, at anyrate, owing
to the tremendous fire from the upper batteries and Issy, it
was absolutely impossible to keep men in the bastions, and
they were all withdrawn. A few were left in the houses and
gardens, but the greater part fell back behind the viaduct,
which afforded them shelter. Somehow or other the troops
in the sap that had been pushed forward to within fifty yards-
of the gate must have come to the conclusion that the bastion
was not tenanted, and, trying the experiment, found them-
selves inside the wall without a shot having been fired. More
must have followed them ; at anyrate, a considerable force
must have gathered there before the Communists found out
they had entered. There can be no doubt that it was a sur-
prise and not a preconcerted movement, for the batteries con-
tinued to fire on the place for some time after they had entered.
" In a short time small bodies of soldiers ran across the
open where the shells were still bursting thickly, established
themselves in the ruins of the village, and, as they received
reinforcements, gradually worked their way forwards. The
Communists have brought up strong forces, but so far they
have been unable to drive back the troops, and, of course,
their chance of doing bo grows less and less. We can hear
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 277
"heavy firing all along to the right, and it seems as if the troops
were pushing forward all along the line from here to Neuilly.
Thank God, the end of this terrible business is approaching,
and by to-morrow morning we may see the troops in
Passy, where there is scarce a soul but will welcome them
with open arms. Our battalion of National Guards was one
of the last to accept the orders of the Commune, and as it must
be known in Versailles, as well as in Paris, that this quarter
is thoroughly loyal, we need fear no trouble. We are going
back there with the news, for we can see nothing here, and if
a battalion of Communists came along beaten, they would be
as likety as not to vent their fury on all whom they see by
their appearance and dress are likely to sympathise with the
troops."
Cuthbert walked back with them to Passy.
" Good news ! " he exclaimed, as he entered the room where
Mary and the Michauds were standing at the open window.
"The troops are masters of Pont du Jour, and the Com-
munists have tried in vain to drive them back. No doubt
at present the whole French v army is being brought up in
readiness to enter as soon as it is dark, and by to-morrow
morning this part of the town at anyrate may be clear of the
Communists."
Exclamations of delight burst from the others.
" I will run up to the roof," Cuthbert said. " There is
heavy musketry tire going on all alons; this side, and one
may get an idea how matters are going. But we may be
sure that the Communists will all fall back upon the city as
soon as they know the troops have entered here."
Mary went up with him, and they found the astronomer
had already his telescope in position.
" I have good news for you, monsieur," Cuthbert said.
"The troops have entered Pont du Jour, and although the
Communists are opposing them in great force they are making
their way forward. It has evidently been a surprise all
round, and so far no great body of troops have been brought
up, but no doubt they will soon be ready to advance in force."
<( That is good news indeed. I have been watchit'g
Asnieres, and, as far as I can make out, a large body of
troops have crossed the bridge there, and are skirmishing
; towards the enceinte, and gradually driving back the Com-
1 munists. They have advanced, too, from Neuilly, and are
pressing forward towards Porte Maillot. Mount Valerieu
seems to be firing at Montmartre,"
278 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Nightfall brought no cessation of the roar of cannon, and
the roll of musketry seemed to be continuous, both from
the left and right. Every window at Passy was lit up.
There was a crowd of women at every shop where coloured
materials could be obtained, aud in every house the females,
were engaged in sewing red, white and blue stuff of every
description to make the National tri-coloured flags in readi-
ness to hang out when the troops came along. Occasionally
adventurous boys and young men came in with scraps of news.
The viaduct had been carried before darkness set in, a
heavy column of troops had captured a strong barricade
across the road, and, following the bank of the river, had
taken possession of the bridge of Grenelle. Another division,,
turning to the left, had carried the gas works, while a third
had captured the Asylum of St Perrine.
It was at the Trocadero that the insurgents were expected
to make a stand in earnest. Here they had erected formidable
works, and were reported to be hard at work mounting guns
and mitrailleuses there. The troops, however, gave them no
time to complete their preparations. A column entered a
little before midnight by the gate of Passy, pushed on to
the bridge of Jena, carried it after a sharp fight, and then
charged at the double towards the heights of the Trocadero,.
where the Communists, taken completely by surprise, fled
precipitously after a slight resistance, and at one o'clock in
the morning the Loyalists were in possession of this important
position. At midnight another division entered at the Porte
Maillot, and advancing, took possession of the Arc de
Triomphe.
At two o'clock the head of the French column came down
the street. In an instant candles were placed at every win-
dow, flags were hung out, and the inhabitants poured into the
street and welcomed their deliverers with shouts of joy. The
troops piled their arms and fell out, and as soon as they did
so men and women brought out jugs of wine and provisions of
all kinds. In half an hour the inhabitants were ordered to
return to their houses, and the troops, wrapping themselves in
their blankets, lay down in the roadway to get two or three
hours' sleep before the heavy work expected in the morning.
At five they were on their feet again. Already the din of
battle had recommenced At daybreak Bruat's division
crossed the Seine by the viaduct, kept along the left bank,
drove the insurgents from the great iron foundry of Cail, and
entered the Champs de Mars.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 279
The Communists fought stubbornly here, but a corps was
sent round to turn their position, and seeing their retreat
threatened they broke and fled, and the Ecole Militaire
was taken possession of without further resistance. General
Cissey's division entered by the gate of Mont Rouge, where
the Communists, threatened in the rear by Bruat's advance,
fell back at their approach. Moving along the Boulevard
Mont Rouge they came upon very strong and formidable
barricades defended by six cannon and mitrailleuses, sup-
ported by musketry fire from the houses. The position was
so strong that even with the assistance of the artillery Cissey
was unable to advance farther in this direction.
Bruat's division met with strong opposition at the Cart-
ridge Factory in the Avenue Rapp, and the Reds were only
driven out at last by artillery being brought up and shelling
them out. After this Bruat pushed on, captured and occupied
without resistance the Invalides, and the Palais Legislatif,
opposite the Palais de la Concorde.
On the right bank the troops advanced from the Arc de
Triomphe at the double, and carried the Palais de L'Industrie
after a short resistance. By mid-day the whole of the Champs
Elysees, as far as the barrier of the Palais de la Concorde,
were in possession of the troops.
Late in the afternoon the division of General Clinchamp
marched down on the Rue Faubourg St Honore, came out
upon the Boulevard, and took possession of the Madeleine
and the Grand Opera House. While these operations had
been carried on the Communists' batteries on Montmartre had
thrown shells over the whole area occupied by the troops, while
Mont Valerien and the other batteries facing the western side
maintained a heavy fire upon those of Montmartre.
Early in the morning all the members of the National
Guard of Passy and Auteuil were summoned to arms and
ordered to assist the troops, and were specially enjoined to
maintain order in their rear as they advanced. Numbers of
Communist prisoners were taken by the troops as they worked
their way forward, and upwards of eight thousand were de-
spatched under a strong escort to Versailles. The order for
the National Guard to assemble was received with intense
satisfaction. The younger and unmarried men had been
forced into the ranks of the Communists, but many had
during the last day or two slipped away and remained in
hiding, and all were anxious to prove that it was loyalty
and not cowardice that had caused them to desert.
280 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Cuthbert was out all day watching, from points where he
could obtain shelter from the flying bullets, the advance of the
troops. When be returned he told Mary that everything was
going on well so far, but he added, " The work is really only
beginning. The barrier at the Palais de la Concorde, and the
batteries on the terrace of the Tuileries, are really formidable
positions, and I hear that on the south side the advance has
been entirely arrested by one of the barricades there. The
insurgents never intended to hold the outlying suburbs, and
even the batteries on the Trocadero were built to aid the
forts, and not for fighting inside the walls. You see every
yard the troops gain now drives the Communists closer and
closer together, and renders the defence more easy. It may
be a week yet before the Commune is finally crushed. I
should think that before the troops advance much further
on this side they will storm Montmartre, whose batteries
would otherwise take them in rear.' 1
The next day three divisions marched against Montmartre,
and attacked it simultaneously on three sides. The Com-
munists here, who had throughout the siege been the loudest
and most vehement in their warlike demonstrations, now
showed that at heart they were cowards. Although their
batteries were armed with over a hundred guns, they offered
but a momentary resistance, and fled, panic-stricken, in every
direction, some thousands being taken prisoners by the troops.
On the other hand, throughout the rest of Paris, the fighting
became more and more severe and desperate. The Northern
Hail way Station was defended successfully throughout the
day. On the south side of the river but little progress was
made by the troops, and they remained stationary also in the
Champs Elysees, the barriers in front being too strong to be
stormed without frightful loss. These, however, would be
turned by the divisions who had captured Montmartre, and
the troops, descending by different routes to the Boulevard des
Italiennes, worked their way along as far as the Porte St
Denis, and thus threatened the flank of the defenders of the
Place de la Concorde and the Tuileries.
The roar of fire was unbroken all day, the forts that had
not yet fallen into the hands of the troops bombarded all
the quarters that had been captured, and were aided by
powerful batteries at Belleville, at Yilette, and, above all,
by those on the Buttes du Chaumont, where the cemetery of
Pere la Chaise has been converted into an entrenched camp,
the positions here being defended by twenty thousand of the
\
\
it
4«
\
\
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 281
best troops Paris. In the western quarters things had
resumed their normal state ; the shops were opened, children
played in the streets, and women gossiped at the doors.
There were men about, too, for the order for the reassembling
of the National Guard of this quarter had been cancelled,
having met with the strongest opposition in the Assembly at
Versailles.
The astronomer downstairs turned out a very useful
acquaintance, for, hearing from Cuthbert that he was ex-
tremely anxious to obtain a pass that would permit him to
move about near the scenes of fighting without the risk of
being seized and shot as a Communist, he that said he was
an intimate friend of Marshal M'Mahon, and should be glad to
obtain a pass for him. On going to the quarters where the
Marshal had established himself, he brought back an order
authorising Cuthbert Hartington, a British subject, to circu-
late everywhere in quarters occupied by the troops.
It is too late to go down this evening, Mary/' he said,
but I expect that to-morrow a great attack upon the
positions round the Tuileries will take place, and I shall try
and get somewhere where I can see without being in the line
of tire, I will take care to run no risks, dear ; you see my
life is more precious to me now than it was when I joined the
Franc Tireurs des l^coles."
It was difficult to stop quietly indoors when so mighty a
►truygle was going on almost within sight, and at ten o'clock
in the evening, he and Mary went out to the Trocadero.
The flashes of fire from the Loyal and Communists' batteries
were incessant. Away on the south side was a constant
flicker of musketry as Cissey's troops struggled with the
defenders of the barricades. An incessant fire played along
the end of the Champs Elysees, flaahed from the windows of
the Tuileries and fringed the parapet of the south side of the
river facing the Palais. Fires were blazing in various parts
of Paris, the result of the bombardment. The city looked
strangely dark, for the men at the gas works were for the
most part fighting in the ranks of the insurgents. The sky
was lined with sparks of fire moving in arcs and marking the
course of the shell as they traversed to and fro from battery
N to battery, or fell on the city.
" It is a wonderful sight, Mary."
"Wonderful, but very terrible," she replied; "it is all
very well to look at from here, but only think what it must
be for those within that circle of fire."
282 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
" I have no pity for the Communists," Cuthbert said ; " not
one spark. They would not pull a trigger or risk a scratch
for the defence of Paris against the Germans, now they are
fighting like wild cats against their countrymen. Look
there!" he exclaimed suddenly, "there is a fire broken out
close to the Palais de la Concorde, a shell must have fallen
there. I fancy it must be within the barricades, but none
of the batteries on either side would have been likely to send
a shell there at night, as it is so close to the line of division
that the missile would be as likely to strike friend as foe."
Higher and higher mounted the flames, spreading as they
went till a huge mass of fire lighted up all that part of Paris.
"It must be a great public building of some sort,"
Cuthbert said.
"See, another building is on fire a short distance away
from it ; look, Cuthbert, look, is that the reflection of the
flames in the windows of the Tuileries, or is it fire 1 "
"It is on fire!" Cuthbert exclaimed, after a minute's
pause; "see, the flames have burst through that window
on the first floor. Good heavens ! the Communists are carry-
ing out their threat to lay Paris in ashes before they yield."
In five minutes all doubt was at an end, the flames were
pouring out from every window on the first floor of the
Palais, and it was evident the fire must have been lighted
in a dozen places simultaneously.
By this time the Trocadero was thronged with spectators
attracted by the light in the sky, and by the report that one
of the public buildings was on fire. Exclamations of fury
and grief and execrations upon the Communists rose every-
where, when it was seen that the Tuileries were in flames.
From points at considerable distances from each other fresh
outbreaks of fire took place. Most of those standing round
were able to locate them, and it was declared that the Palace
of the Court of Accounts, the Ministries of War and Finance,
the Palaces of the Legion of Honour, and of the Council of
State, the Prefecture of Police, the Palais de Justice, the
Hdtel de Yille and the Palais Royale were all on fire. As
the night went on, the scene became more and more terrible.
Paris was blazing in at least twenty places, and most of the
conflagrations were upon an enormous scale. The scene was
too fascinating and terrible to be abandoned, and it was
not until the morning began to break that the spec la tors on
the Trocadero returned to their homes.
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 283
CHAPTER XXV
Armed with his pass, Cuthbert started for the city at ten
o'clock next morning. A dense pall of smoke hung over
Paris. On the south side of the river the conflict was still
raging, as it was also on the north and east, but the in-
surgents' shells were no longer bursting up the Champs
Elysees, and the firing had ceased at the Palais de la Con-
corde. It was evident that the insurgents, after performing
their work of destruction, had evacuated their position there.
On reaching the bottom of the Champs Elysees he found that
a breach had been made in the barricade, and that a consider-
able number of troops were bivouacked in the Palais de la
Concorde itself.
The fire engines from Versailles, St Denis, and other
places round were already at work, but their efforts seemed
futile indeed in face of the tremendous bodies of fire with
which they had to cope. Just as Cuthbert, after passing
through the breach in the barricade, on the presentation of
his pass to the sentries, arrived at the end of the Hue Rivoli,
a mounted officer dashed up to the two engines at work opposite
the building that had first been fired, and said, —
"You can do no good here. Take your engines to the
courtyard of the Tuileries and aid the troops in preventing
the fire from spreading to the Louvre. That is the only
place where there is any hope of doing good. Now, monsieur,"
he said to Cuthbert, " you must fall in and aid the Pompiers.
The orders are that all able-bodied men are to help in
extinguishing the fire."
Cuthbert was glad to be of use, and, joining the fire-
men, ran along with the engines down the Rue Rivoli, and
turned in with them into the courtyard of the Palais. The
western end, containing the state apartments, was a mass of
fire from end to end, and the flames were creeping along both
wings towards the Louvre. In the Palais itself a battalion
of infantry were at work. Some were throwing furniture,
pictures and curtains through the windows into the court-
yard; others were hacking off doors and tearing up floors,
while strong parties were engaged on the roofs in stripping off
the slates and tearing down the beams and linings.
Other engines presently arrived, for telegrams had been
sent off, soon after the tires broke out, to all the principal towns
284 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
of France, and even to London, asking for engines and men
to work them, and those from Amiens, Lille and Rouen had
already reached Paris by train.
After working for three hours, Cuthbert showed his pass
to the officer and was permitted to pass on, a large number
of citizens being by this time available for the work, having
been fetched from all the suburbs occupied by the troops.
Before going very much farther, Cuthbert was stopped by a
line of sentries across the street.
"You cannot pass here," the officer in charge said as
Cuthbert produced his permit, "the island is still in the
hands of the Crmmun'sts, and the tire from their barricade
across the bridge sweeps the street twenty yards farther on,
and it would be certain death to show yourself there ; besides,
they are still in force beyond the Hotel de Ville. You can,
of course, work round by the left, but I should strongly advise
you to go no farther. There is desperate fighting going on
in the Place de la Bastille. The insurgent batteries are
shelling the Boulevards hotly, and, worst of all, you are liable
to be shot from the upper windows and cellars. There are
scores of those scoundrels still in the houses ; there has been
no time to unearth them yet, and a good many men have
been killed by their fire."
" Thank you, sir. I will take your advice," Cuthbert said.
He found, indeed, that there was no seeing anything that
was going on in the way of fighting without running great
risks, and he accordingly made his way back to the Trocadero.
Here he could see that a number of fires had broken out at
various points since morning, even in the part of the town
occupied by the troops; and though some of these might be
caused by the Communists' shell, it was more probable that
they were the work of the incendiary. He had, indeed,
heard from some of the citizens to whom he had spoken while
at work at the pumps, that orders had been issued all gratings
and windows giving light to cellars should be closed by wet
sacks being piled against them, and should then be covered
thickly with earth, as several women had been caught in the
act of pouring petroleum into the cellars, and then dropping
lighted matches down upon it.
These wretches had been shot instantly, but the fresh fires
continually springing up showed that the work was still going on.
It was strangely silent in the streets. With the exception
of the sentries at every corner there were few persons indeed
abroad. Many were looking from the windows, but few,
▲ WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 285
indeed, ventured out. They knew not what orders had been
given to the sentries, and feared arrest were they to stir
beyond their doors. Moreover, the occasional crash of a shell
from the insurgent batteries, the whistling of bullets, and the
frequent discbarge of musket shots still kept up by groups of
desperate Communists who had taken refuge in the houses,
was sufficient alone to deter them from making any attempt to
learn what was going on. But in the absence of footfalls in
the streets and of the sound of vehicles, the distant noises were
strangely audible. The rustle of the flames at the Hdtel de
Ville, and the great fires across the river, the crash of the fall-
ing roofs and walls, the incessant rattle of distant musketry
and the boom of cannon formed a weird contrast to the silence
that prevailed in the quarter. Cuthbert felt that he breathed
more freely when he issued out again into the Champs Elysees.
The next day he did not go down. The advance continued,
but progress was slow. On the following morning Paris was
horrified by the news published in the papers at Versailles that
statements of prisoners left no doubt that the Archbishop of
Paris and many other priests, in all a hundred persons, had
been massacred in cold blood, the methods of the first revolu-
tion being closely followed, and the prisoners made to walk out
one by one from the gate of the prison, and being shot down
as they issued out.
Another statement of a scarcely less appalling nature was
that the female fiends of the Commune not only continued
their work of destruction by fire, but were poisoning the troops.
Several instances of this occurred. In one case ten men were
poisoned by one of these furies, who came out as they passed,
and expressing joy at the defeat of the Commune, offered them
wine. They drank it unsuspectingly, and within an hour
were all dead. Orders were consequently issued that no soldier
should on any account accept drink or food of any kind offered
them by women.
" This horrible massacre of the Archbishop and the other
prisoners is next door to madness," Cuthbert said, as he read
the account at breakfast. " The Communists could have no
personal feeling of hostility against their victims ; indeed, the
Archbishop was, I know, most popular. Upon the other hand
it seals the fate of thousands. The fury excited by such a deed
will be so great that the troops will refuse to give quarter, and
the prisoners taken will have to suffer' to the utmost for the
crime committed by perhaps a handful of desperate wretches.
The omnibuses began to run yesterday from Sevres, and I pro-
286 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
pose, Mary, that we go over to Versailles to-day and get out of
sound of the firing. They say there are fully twenty thousand
prisoners there."
"I don't want to see the prisoners," Mary said, with a
shudder. " I should like to go to Versailles, but let us keep
away from horrors."
And so for a day they left the sound of battle behind,
wandered together through the Park at Versailles, and care-
fully abstained from all allusion to the public events of the
past six months. The next day Cuthbert returned to Paris
and made his way down to the Place de la Bastille, where, for
the sum of half a Napoleon, he obtained permission to ascend
to the upper window of a house. The scene here was terrible.
On the side on which he was standing, a great drapery estab-
lishment, known as the Bon Marche, embracing a dozen
houses, was in flames. In the square itself three batteries of
artillery belonging to Ladmirault's Division were sending
their shell up the various streets debouching on the place.
Most of the houses on the opposite side were in flames.
The insurgent batteries on the Buttes de Chaumont were
replying to the guns of the troops. The infantry were already
pressing their way upwards. Some of the barricades were so
desperately defended that the method by which alone the
troops on the south side had been able to capture these de-
fences was adopted ; the troops taking possession of the houses
and breaking their way with crowbar and pick-axe through
the party wall, and so, step by step, making their way along
under cover until they approached the barricades, which
they were then able to make untenable by their mus-
ketry fire from the windows. Cuthbert remained here for an
hour or two, and then, making a detour, came out on the
Boulevards higher up.
The Theatre of Porte St Martin was in flames, as were many
other buildings. A large number of troops with piled arms
occupied the centre of the street, taking their turn to rest
before they relieved their comrades in the work of assault.
Presently he saw down a side street a party of soldiers with
some prisoners. He turned down to see what was going on.
The officer in command of the party came up to him.
" Monsieur has doubtless a pass," he said politely.
Cuthbert produced it.
" Ah, you are English, monsieur. It is well for you that
jour country does not breed such wretches as these. Every
one of them has been caught in the course of the last hour
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 287
in the act of setting houses alight. They are now to be
shot,"
" It is an unpleasant duty, monsieur," Cuthbert said.
" It would be horrible at any other time," the officer said.
"But we cannot consider these creatures as human beings.
They are wild beasts, and I verily believe the women are worse
than the men. There is only one I would spare, though she is
the worst of all. At every barricade where the fighting has
been fiercest for the last four days she has been conspicuous.
The troops got to know her by her red cap and dress. She
has been seen to shoot down men who attempted to retire,
and she has led a charmed life, or she would have been killed
a thousand times. When she was taken she had on an old
■dress over her red one, and a hideous bonnet in place of the
cap. She was caught just as she had dropped a lighted match
into a cellar. The flames flashed up at once, and two soldiers
near ran up and arrested her. She stabbed one, but the other
broke her wrist with a blow from the butt of his musket.
" Then came a curious thing. A man who had been stand-
ing in a doorway on the opposite side of the street ran out and
•declared that he was a sharer in her crime. His air was that of
a madman, and the men would have pushed him away, but he
•exclaimed, * I am Arnold Dampierre, one of the leaders of the
Commune. This is my wife. 1 "Then the woman said, 'The
man is mad. I have never seen him before. I know Arnold
Dampierre — everyone knows him. He does not resemble this
man, whose proper place is a lunatic asylum.' So they contended,
And both were brought before the drum-head court martial
"The man had so wild an air that we should not have
believed his story, but on his being searched his American
passport was found upon him. Then the woman threw herself
into his arms. 'We will die together then!' she said. 'I
would have saved you if you would have let me.' Then she
turned to us. ' Yes, I am guilty. I have fought against you
on the barricades,' and she tore off her outer dress and bonnet.
* I have kindled twenty fires, but in this I am guilty alone.
He stood by me on the barricades, but he would have nothing
to do with firing houses. But I am a Parisian. I am the
•daughter of Martin Dufaure, who was killed an honr since,
and my duty was to the Commune first, and to my husband
afterwards. I hate and despise you slaves of tyrants. You
have conquered us, but we have taught a lesson to the men
who fatten on our suffering.'
"Of course they were both ordered to be shot. I have
288 A WOMAN OP THE COMMUNE
given them all five minutes, but the time is up. Range them
by the wall, men," he said, turning to the soldiers.
Cuthbert glanced for a moment, and then turned away.
The other women were mostly old, or, at least, middle-aged,
and they stood scowling at the soldiers, and some of them
pouring out the foulest imprecations upon them.
Minette stood in the centre of the line conspicuous by her
red dress. One hand grasped that of Arnold, who was gazing
upon her as if oblivious to all else. Her head was held erect,
and she looked at her executioners with an air of proud defiance.
Cuthbert hurried away, filled with an intense feeling of
pity and regret. He heard Minette cry in a loud, clear voice,
" Vive la Commune I" Then there was a sharp volley, and
all was over, and a minute later the soldiers passed him on
the way to join their comrades.
He stood for a time at the corner of the street irresolute.
He had seen scores of dead in the streets. He had thought he
could see nothing worse than he had witnessed, but he felt
that he could not go back, as he had first thought of doing, to
the scene of execution. Comrades had fallen by his side in
the fight at Champigny, but he had not felt for them as for
this comrade who lay behind him, or for the girl who, with her
talents, might have had a bright future before her had she
been thrown amid other surroundings. He wondered whether
he could obtain their bodies for burial.
It did not seem to him possible. Vehicles could not be
obtained at any price. The very request would seem sus-
picious, and suspicion at that hour was enough to condemn
a man unheard. The difficulties in the way would be enormous.
Indeed, it would matter nothing to Arnold and Minette.
They had fallen together, and would lie together in one of
the great common graves in which the dead would be buried.
It would be little short of a mockery to have the burial service
read over her, and had Arnold been consulted he would have
preferred to lie beside her to being laid in a grave apart.
So, after a pause of five minutes, Cuthbert moved away with-
out venturing a single look back at the group huddled down by
the wall, but walked away, feeling crushed and overwhelmed
by the untimely fate that had befallen two persons of whom
he had seen so much during the past year, and feeling as feeble
as he did when he first arose from his bed in the American
ambulance.
Several times he had to pause and lean against the wall,
and when he had passed the barricade at the Palais de la Con-
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 289
corde, towards which he bad almost instinctively made his way,
he sat down on one of the deserted seats in the Champs Elysees,
and burst into tears. It had hardly come upon him as a sur-
prise, for he had felt that, conspicuous as he had made himself, •
the chances of Arnold making his escape were small indeed,
especially as Minette would cling to the Commune until the
very end. Still it never struck him as being possible that
he himself might witness the end. He had thought that the
same obscurity that hung over the fate of most of the other
leaders of the Commune would envelop that of Arnold. He
would have fallen, but how or when would never have been
known. He would simply have disappeared. Rumour would
have mentioned his name for a few days, the rumour that was
already busy with the fate of other leaders of the insurrection,
and he had never dreamt that it would be brought home to
him in this fashion. After a time Cuthbert pulled himself
together, waited until a fiacre came along — for on this side of
Paris things were gradually regaining their usual aspect — and
then drove back to Passy.
" What is the matter, Cuthbert ? " Mary exclaimed, as she
caught sight of his face. " Are you ill ? You look terribly
pale, and quite unlike yourself. What has happened 1 "
" I have had a shock, Mary, 1 ' he said, with a faint attempt
at a smile, " a very bad shock. Don't ask me about it just at
present. Please get me some brandy. I have never fainted
in my life, but I feel very near it just at present."
Mary hurried away to Madame Michaud, who now always
discreetly withdrew as soon as Cuthbert was announced, and
returned with some cognac, a tumbler and water. She poured
him out a glass, that seemed to herself to be almost alarmingly
strong, but he drank it at a draught.
" Don't be alarmed, Mary," he said with a smile at the
consternation in her face. " You won't often see me do this,
and I can assure you that spirit drinking is not a habitual
vice with me, but I really wanted it then. They are still
fighting fiercely from Porte St Martin down to the Place de la
Bastille. I believe all resistance has been crushed out on the
south side of the river, and in a couple of days the whole
thing will be over."
" Fancy a week of fighting. It is awful to think of, Cuth-
bert. How many do you suppose will be killed altogether 1 "
" I have not the least idea, and I don't suppose it will ever
be known ; but if the resistance is as desperate for the next
two days as it has been for the last three, I should say fully
290 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
twenty thousand will have fallen, besides those taken with
arms in their hands, tried and shot. I hear there are two
general court martials sitting permanently, and that seven or
eight hundred prisoners are shot every day. Then there are
some eighteen or twenty thousand at Versailles, but as these
will not be tried until the fighting is over, and men's blood
cooled down somewhat, no doubt much greater leniency will
be shown. "
" There is a terrible cloud of smoke over Paris stilL"
" Yes, fresh fires are constautly breaking out. The Louvre
is safe, and the firemen have checked the spread of the flames
at the public buildings, but there are streets where every house
is alight for a distance of a quarter of a mile, and yet, except
at these spots, the damage is less than you would expect, con-
sidering how fierce a battle has been raging. There are streets
where scarce a bullet mark is to be seen on the walls, or a broken
pane of glass in a window, while at points where barricades
have been defended, the scene of ruin is terrible."
Two days later a strange stillness succeeded the din and
uproar that had for a week gone on without cessation night
and day. Paris was conquered, the Commune was stamped
out, its chiefs dead or fugitives, its rank and file slaughtered,
or prisoners awaiting trial. France breathed again. It had
been saved from a danger infinitely more terrible than a Ger-
man occupation. In a short time the hotels were opened, and
visitors began to pour into Paris to gaze at the work of de-
struction wrought by the orgie of the Commune. One day
Cuthbert, who was now installed in his own lodging, went up
to Passy.
" I hear that the English church is to be open to-morrow,
Mary. I called on the clergyman to-day, and told him that I
should probably require his services next week."
" Cuthbert ! " Mary exclaimed in surprise, " yon cannot
mean — " and a flush of colour completed the sentence.
" Yes, that is just what I do mean, Mary. You have kept
me waiting three years, and I am not going to wait a day
longer."
" I have given up much of my belief in women's rights,
Cuthbert, but there are some I still maintain, and one of these
is, that a woman has a right to be consulted in a matter of
this kind."
" Quite so, dear, and therefore I have left the matter open,
and I will leave to you to fix the day, and you can choose any
one you like from Monday to Saturday next week."
A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE 291
" But I must have time, Cuthbert," she said desperately.
" I have, of course, things to get"
" The things that you have will do perfectly well, my dear.
Besides, many of the shops are open and you can get anything
you want. As for a dress for the occasion, if you choose to
fix Saturday you will have twelve days, which is twice as long
as necessary. Putting aside my objection to waiting any
longer, I want to get away from here to some quiet place
where we can forget the events of the past month, and get our
nerves into working order again. If there is any reason that
you can declare that you honestly believe to be true and valid,
of course I must give way, but if not, let it be Saturday week.
That is right I see that you have nothing to urge, 11 and a
fortnight later they were settled in a ehdlet high up above
the Lake of Lucerne.
Rene* and Pierre acted as Cuthbert's witnesses at the mar-
riage. Pierre had escaped before the fighting began. Rene*
had done service with the National Guard until the news came
that the troops had entered Paris, then he had gone to M.
Goude*'8, who had hidden him and seven or eight of the other
students in an attic. When the troops approached they had
taken refuge on the roof, and had remained there until the
tide of battle had swept past, and they then descended, and
arraying themselves in their painting blouses had taken up
their work at the studio; and when, three days later, the
general search for Communists began, they were found work-
ing so diligently that none suspected that they had ever fired
a shot in die ranks of the Communists.
When the Salon was opened, long after its usual time,
Cuthbert's pictures were well hung, and obtained an amount
of praise that more than satisfied him, although his wife in-
sisted that they were not half as warm as the pictures de-
served. It was not until they had been for some time in
Switzerland that Mary had learned the details of the deaths
of Arnold and Minette Dampierre. That both were dead she
knew, for when she mentioned their names for the first time
after the close of the fighting, Cuthbert told her that he had
learned that both were dead, and begged her to ask no
question concerning them until he himself returned to the
subject.
Mary wrote to her mother a day or two after she was
married, giving her the news. An answer was received from
Scarborough expressing great satisfaction, and saying that it
was probable that the family would settle where they were.
292 A WOMAN OF THE COMMUNE
Neither Cuthbert nor his wife liked the thought of returning
to England, and for the next five years remained abroad.
After spending a few months at Dresden, Munich, Rome, and
Florence, they settled at Venice. Cuthbert continued to
work hard, and each year two or three of his pictures hung on
the walls of the Academy and attracted much attention, and
were sold at excellent prices. All his earnings in this way
and the entire income of Fairclose were put aside to pay off
the mortgage, and when, at the end of the five years, Cuth-
bert, his wife, and two children returned to Fairclose, the
greater portion of the mortgage had been paid off, and three
years later it was entirely wiped out.
Although very warmly received by the county, Cuthbert
retained his preference for London, and during the winter six
months always moved up to a house in the artists' quarter at
St John's wood. Although he no longer painted as if com-
pelled to do so for a living, he worked regularly and steadily
while in town, and being able to take his time in carrying
out his conceptions, his pictures increased in value, and he
took a place in the front rank of artists, and some fifteen
years after the siege of Paris was elected Academician. Be-
fore this he had sold Fairclose and built himself a house in
Holland Park, where he was able to indulge his love for art
to the fullest extent.
Of his wife's family he saw but little. Mary's sisters both
married before he and his wife returned from abroad. Mary
went down occasionally to Scarborough, and stayed with her
father and mother, but Mr Brander steadily refused all invi-
tations to visit them in London, and until his death, fifteen
years later, never left Scarborough, where he became a very
popular man, although no persuasions could induce him to take
a part in any of its institutions or public affairs.
Cuthbert has often declared that the most fortunate event
in his life was that he was a besieged resident in Paris through
its two sieges. As for Mary, she has been heard to declare
that she has no patience whatever with the persons who fre-
quent platforms and talk about women's rights.
Not far from the spot in La Chaise, where the pits in which
countless numbers of Communists were buried are situated,
stands a small marble cross, on whose pedestal are inscribed
the words : — " To the memory of Arnold Dampierre and his
wife, Minette, whose bodies rest near this place."
THE END.
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