A GIRL OF THECOMMUNE

BY

G. A. HENTYAUTHOR OF "IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE, " "WITH LEE INVIRGINIA, " ETC. 

NEW YORKR. F. FENNO & COMPANY9 AND 11 EAST 16TH STREET

COPYRIGHT, 1895

BY G. A. HENTY

A GIRL OF THE COMMUNE. 

CHAPTER I. 

Jeremiah Brander was one of the most prominent personages in theCathedral town of Abchester. He inhabited an old-fashioned, red brickhouse near the end of the High Street. On either side was a high wallfacing the street, and from this a garden, enclosing the house, stretched away to a little stream some two hundred yards in the rear; sothat the house combined the advantage of a business residence in front, with those of seclusion, an excellent garden, and an uninterrupted viewbehind. 

Jeremiah Brander enjoyed, in a very large degree, the confidence andrespect of his fellow-townsmen. His father and his grandfather had been, like himself, solicitors, and he numbered among his clients most of thecounty families round. Smaller business he left to the three younger menwho divided between them the minor legal business of the place. He in noway regarded them as rivals, and always spoke of them benevolently asworthy men to whom all such business as the collection of debts, criminal prosecutions, and such matters as the buying and selling ofhouses in the town, could be safely entrusted. As for himself hepreferred to attend only to business in his own line, and he seldomaccepted fresh clients, never, indeed, until a new-comer had taken hisplace among the accepted society of the county. 

In the public business of the city, however, he played a very importantpart. He was Town Clerk, treasurer of several societies, solicitor tothe Abchester County and City Bank, legal adviser of the CathedralAuthorities, deacon of the principal Church, City Alderman, president ofthe Musical Society, treasurer of the Hospital, a director of the GasCompany, and was in fact ready at all times to take a prominent part inany movement in the place. 

He was a man of some fifty years of age, inclined to be stout, somewhatflorid in complexion, and always dressed with scrupulous care. There wasnothing about him to indicate that he belonged to the legal profession. His talk as a rule was genial and almost cheery, but his manner variedaccording to the circumstances. In his capacity as treasurer he wasconcise and business-like; in matters connected with the Church he was alittle given to be dogmatic, which, considering the liberality of hissubscriptions to all the Church objects and charities was but natural. 

As president of the Musical Society he was full of tact, and acted thepart of general conciliator in all the numerous squabbles, jealousies, and heart-burnings incidental to such associations. In every one of thenumerous offices he filled he gave unbounded satisfaction, and the onlyregret among his fellow-townsmen was that he had on three occasionsrefused to accept the honor of the Mayoralty, alleging, and with a fairshow of reason, that although ready at all times to aid to the utmost inany movement set afoot for the advantage of the city, it was impossiblefor him to spare the time required to perform properly the duties ofMayor. 

Jeremiah Brander had married the daughter of a gentleman of an oldcounty family which had fallen somewhat in circumstances. It was rumoredat the time that he had 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 marriagewas an unhappy one. It was regarded as rather a come-down for her, butif so she never showed that she felt it as a fall. The marriage hadcertainly improved his standing in the county. His wife formed a sort oflink between him and his clients, and he occupied a considerably betterposition among them than his father had done, being generally acceptedas a friend as well as a legal adviser. 

It is not to be supposed that so successful a man had no detractors. Oneof his legal brethren had been heard to speak of him contemptuously as ahumbug. A medical practitioner who had failed to obtain the post ofHouse Surgeon at the Hospital, owing to the support the President hadgiven to another competitor for the post, had alluded to him bitterly asa blatant ass; and a leading publican who had been fined before themagistrates for diluting his spirits, was in the habit of darklyuttering his opinion that Jerry Brander was a deep card and up to nogood. 

But as every great man has his enemies, the opinion of a few malcontentswent for nothing in the general consensus of admiration for one who wasgenerally regarded as among the pillars of Abchester society, and anhonor to the city. 

"It is high time you did something, Jerry, " his wife said to him onemorning 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 ahundred times that you would give up all this miserable business andsettle down in the county. The girls are growing up, Mary has just leftGirton and is of an age to go into society. "

"She may be of age, " Mr. Brander said, with an irritability unusual tohim, "but it strikes me that society is the last thing she is thinkingof. We made a mistake altogether in giving way to her and letting her goto that place; she has got her head full of all sorts of absurd ideasabout woman's mission and woman's duties, and nonsense of that sort, andhas got out of hand altogether. You have not a shadow of influence overher, and I can't say that I have much more. Thank goodness her sistersdon't take after her in any way. "

"Well, that is all true, " Mrs. Brander said, "and you know we haveagreed on that subject for a long time, but it is no answer to myquestion. I have been content to live all these years in this miserabledull place, because I was fool enough to believe your promise that youwould 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 thatwe don't drive half-a-dozen miles, and sometimes a dozen, to take partin a dull dinner. "

"That is all very well so far as it goes, but we simply go to thesedinners because you are the family lawyer and I am your wife. "

"Well, well, you know, Eliza, that I was in treaty for the Haywood'sEstate when that confounded mine that I had invested in went wrong, andfifteen thousand were lost at a blow--a nice kettle of fish we madebetween us of that. "

"We, " she repeated, scornfully. 

"Yes, we. You know perfectly well that before I went into it I consultedyou. The mine was paying well then, and at the rate I bought in wouldhave paid twenty per cent on the investment. I told you that there was acertain risk always with these mines, and that it was either a bigaddition 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 greatstrike, then a fall in the price of coal, and then just when thingsbegan to look better again we came upon that fault that nobody haddreamt of being there, and then the whole thing went to smash. You mustnot be impatient. I am as anxious as you are, Eliza, to have done withall 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 asyou. Tancred takes a great deal of the work off my hands now, and I cansee that he has the confidence of most of my people. In another coupleof years I shall have no fear of the business falling off if I hand itover to him entirely. You know he has only a fifth share, and I have nodoubt he will be glad to arrange to pay me half or perhaps three-fifthswhen I retire. Now I must be going across to the office. "

The office was situated in a smaller house standing opposite thelawyer's residence. In his father's time a portion of the ground floorof the house was devoted to business purposes, but after his marriageJeremiah Brander had taken the house opposite and made it his place ofbusiness. 

About twelve o'clock a gig drew up at the door; a moment later a youngclerk came in. 

"Doctor Edwards wishes to speak to you, Mr. Brander. "

"Show him in. "

"Well, doctor, " he said, as his visitor entered, "it is seldom that Isee you here, though we meet often enough elsewhere. Come you to buy orto sell, or do you want a will prepared or a patient sued? If so youknow that's altogether out of my line. "

"I quite understand that, Brander, " the other said, as he took thearmchair the lawyer pointed out to him. "No, I have come to tell yousomething you will be very sorry to hear. I have just come in fromFairclose. I had a note from Hartington last night asking me to go overfirst 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 theyounger men either across country or after the partridges. "

"Yes, he looks as hard as iron and sound as a roach, but appearances aredeceptive. I should have said as you do yesterday if anyone had askedme. I have come to tell you to-day in confidence that he has not manymonths, 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 whenhe came back from hunting yesterday he went upstairs to change whensuddenly the room seemed to go round. Fortunately he had just sat downon 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 wasconscious of was the servant knocking at the door, to say that dinnerwas ready; he told the man that he did not feel well and should not godown; he got off his things and lay down for an hour and then felt wellenough to write the note to me. Of course I made a thorough examinationof 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 rapidprogress. Of course I told him something of the truth. 

"'Is it as bad as that?' he said. 'I have felt a lot of palpitationlately after a hard run with the hounds, and fancied something must bewrong. 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 Imeet is saying to himself 'poor old buffer, we shan't have him longamong us. '

"Then he said more seriously, 'I would rather it should be so than thatI should outgrow my strength and become a confirmed invalid. I haveenjoyed my life and have done my best to do my duty as a landlord and asa magistrate. I am as prepared to die now as I should be twenty yearson. I have been rather a lonely man since I lost my wife. Cuthbert'sways are not my ways, for he likes life in London, cares nothing forfield sports. But we can't all be cast in one groove, you know, and Ihave never tried to persuade him to give up his life for mine, whyshould I? However, though I wish you to tell no one else, I should beglad if you will call on Brander and ask him to drive over. I made mywill years ago, but there are a few matters I should like to talk overwith him. '"

"This is sad, indeed, " the lawyer said, sympathetically. "TheSquire--everyone about here calls him the Squire, you know, though thereare men with broader acres than his in the neighborhood--will beterribly missed. Dear, dear, it will make a sad gap indeed: how long doyou think he is likely to last?"

"He might go at any moment, Brander; but as he has rallied from thisshock it may be some little time before he has another. I should givehim perhaps a couple of months. By the way, I think his son ought to beinformed of it. "

"I will ask him about it, " the lawyer said. "Of course Cuthbert oughtto know, but may be the Squire will keep it entirely to himself. Ishould say there is nothing that would upset him more than the thoughtof being fretted over, and I am not sure that he is not right. Of courseI shall drive over there this afternoon. "

After Dr. Edwards had left, Jeremiah Brander sat for a long time in deepthought. Once the clerk came in to ask for instructions about a deedthat he was drawing up, but he waved him away impatiently. "Put itaside, " he said, "I cannot see to it just now, I am busy, and not to bedisturbed for the next hour, whoever comes. "

It was evidently a difficult problem Jeremiah Brander had to solve. Hetook out his bank-book and went through his payments for a long whileback and then went through some bundles of old checks. One of these hetook off the file; it was for the sum of fifteen thousand pounds, madepayable to self. 

"It is lucky now, " he muttered, "that I drew it, as I didn't want itknown even in the bank what I was putting the money into, " then from astrongbox with the name "J. W. Hartington, " he took out a bundle ofdocuments, many of which were receipts for money signed by the Squire, carefully examined the dates and amounts, and put them down on a pieceof paper. 

"There would be no difficulty about the signature, " he said; "nonewhatever; 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 crabbedhandwriting so accurately that even an expert would have had somedifficulty in detecting the difference; he then tore the sheet intosmall pieces, put them into the heart of the fire, and watched themshrivel up to nothing. 

"I think it could be done without the slightest risk, " he said tohimself, "if one managed the details carefully. " Then he sat down andremained for half an hour without stirring. "It can be done, " he said atlast, "it is well worth trying; the property ought to be worth seventythousand, but at a forced sale it might go for fifty-five or sixty. Ireckoned last week that I could sell out my stocks for twenty-sixthousand, which, with the fifteen thousand, would bring it over forty, and I could raise the balance on the estate without difficulty; thenwith the rents and what I shall draw for this business, I shall be inclover. " He locked up the papers carefully, put on his hat, and wentacross the road to lunch. 

There was no trace in his face or manner of the grave matters that hadoccupied his thoughts for the last two hours. He was cheerful and evengay over the meal. He joked Mary about the advancement of women, toldthe other girls that he intended that they should take lessons inriding, gave them an amusing account of the meeting of the MusicalSociety he had attended the evening before, and told his wife that shemust 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, occasionallysharp words might pass when he and his wife were alone, but when thegirls were present he was always the genial father. There is no betteradvertisement for a man than his children's talk. They are unconsciouslyhis best trumpeters, and when Mr. Brander's name was mentioned and hismany services to his townsmen talked over, the fact that he was one ofthe best and kindest of men in his family circle, and that his girlspositively worshipped him, was sure to be adduced as final and clinchingevidence of the goodness of his character. 

After lunch he went down to the bank and had a private interview withthe manager. 

"By the bye, " he said, after a short talk, "I have a client who wants tobuy fifty shares. "

The manager glanced sharply at him. 

"They stand at a premium, " Mr. Brander went on, as if not noticing theglance; "though they have fallen thirty shillings lately. It is not aninvestment I should myself recommend, but at the same time, for variousreasons, I did not care to endeavor to dissuade him; it would scarcelydo for it to be reported that I had said anything to the disadvantage ofthis institution, standing as I do in the position of its solicitor. Ithink you mentioned the other day that you held rather more shares thanyou cared for, perhaps you could let me have some?"

The other nodded. "I could part with fifty, " he said, dryly. 

"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 alreadyconcluded, so perhaps it would be as well to date the transfer on theday after the board meeting, and I will date my check accordingly. "

"It will be all the same to me, " the manager said, "shall I draw out thetransfer at once?"

"Do so. The shares stand at six pounds ten, I think, so I will draw youout a check for three hundred and twenty-five pounds. That will beright, I think, " and he wrote a check and handed it across to themanager. 

"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 hesigned his name. "Please to sign here, Mr. Karford; now Mr. Levison, yousign underneath. " He held his finger to the spot where they were to signin such a way that they could not even if they wished read the nameinserted in the body of the document. 

"I will take it away with me and obtain Hartington's signature, " Mr. Brander said, after they had left the room, "I am going over to see himnow. I will send it in to you before the next board meeting, and by theway it would be as well when you get it stamped to pass it in withseveral others. I know how these things are done, and in ninety-ninecases out of a hundred the directors don't even glance at the names onthe transfers. Of course they are nothing to them, they have otherthings to think about, but there might possibly be some remark at yourtransferring some of your shares just at the present moment. By theway, " he said, carelessly, "I don't think if I were you I would make anyfurther advances to Mildrake. Of course, he has a big business, and nodoubt he is all right, but I have learned privately that they are notdoing as well as they seem to be, and I know the bank is pretty deepthere already. "

The manager turned somewhat paler, but said, though with manifesteffort--

"They are perfectly safe, Mr. Brander, as safe as a bank. "

"No doubt, no doubt, Mr. Cumming, but you know all banks are notperfectly safe. Well, I dare say you can manage that for me. "

"Certainly, there can be no difficulty whatever about it. I have ten ortwelve other transfers, and there will doubtless be some more beforenext board meeting. The affixing the stamp is a purely mechanicalbusiness. "

After the lawyer had left Mr. Cumming sat for some time passing his handnervously over his chin. 

"Brander evidently has an idea that all is not right, " he thought tohimself. "Of course he cannot know how things really stand or he wouldnever have let Hartington take shares. It is a curious transactionaltogether, and I cannot make head nor tail of it. However, that is nobusiness of mine. I will cash the check at once and send the money totown with the rest; if Mildrake can hold on we may tide matters over forthe present; if not there will be a crash. However, he promised to sendme forty-eight hours' notice, and that will be enough for me to arrangematters and get off. "

Returning to his office the lawyer found his gig waiting at the door, and at once drove over to Fairclose, Mr. Hartington's place. 

"I am grieved, indeed, to hear the news Edwards brought me thismorning, " he said, as he entered the room where the Squire was sitting. 

"Yes, it is rather sudden, Brander, but a little sooner or a littlelater does not make much difference after all. Edwards told you, ofcourse, that I want nothing said about it. "

"That is so. "

"Nothing would annoy me more than to have any fuss. I shall just go onas I have before, except that I shall give up hunting; it is just theend of the season, and there will be but two or three more meets. Ishall drive to them and have a chat with my friends and see the houndsthrow off. I shall give out that I strained myself a bit the last time Iwas out, and must give up riding for a time. Have you brought my willover with you?"

"Yes, 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 weresmall ones of ten or twenty pounds to various old people in the village, and the work occupied but a few minutes. The housekeeper and one of themen were called up to witness the signature, and when they had retiredMr. 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 hiswife and Mary were waiting ready for him, "I do think you might dressyourself a little more brightly when we are going to such a house as weare to-night. I don't say that that black silk with the lace and thosewhite flowers are not becoming, but I think something lighter and gayerwould be more appropriate to a young girl. "

"I don't like colors, father, and if it hadn't been for mamma I shouldnever have thought of getting these expensive flowers. I do think womenlower themselves by dressing themselves as butterflies. No wonder menconsider they think of nothing but dress and have no minds for highermatters. "

"Pooh, pooh, my dear, the first duty of a young woman is to look aspretty as she can. According to my experience men don't troublethemselves much about the mind, and a butterfly after all is a good dealmore admired than a bee, though the bee is much more useful in the longrun. "

"If a woman is contented to look like a butterfly, father, she must becontent to be taken for one, but I must say I think it is degrading thatmen should look upon it in that light. They don't dress themselves up inall sorts of colors, why should we. "

"I am sure I can't tell you why, Mary, but I suppose it is a sort ofinstinct, and instincts are seldom wrong. If it had been intended thatwomen should dress themselves as plainly and monotonously as we do, theywould not have had the love of decorating themselves implanted almostuniversally among them. You are on the wrong track, child, on the wrongtrack altogether, and if you and those who think like you imagine thatyou are going to upset the laws of nature and to make women rivals ofmen in mind if not in manner, instead of being what they were meant tobe, wives and mothers, you are althogether mistaken. "

"That is only another way of putting it, father, that because woman havefor 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 altogetherwrong, but I have no objection to your going your own way and finding itout at last for yourself, but that does not alter my opinion that on anoccasion of a set dinner-party in the county where everybody will be intheir fullest fig, that dress, which is pretty and becoming enough inits way, I admit, can hardly be considered as appropriate. "

Mary did not answer, but gave an almost imperceptible shrug of hershoulders, expressing clearly her absolute indifference to otherpeople's tastes so long as she satisfied her own. Mary was indeeddecided in most of her opinions. Although essentially feminine in mostrespects, she and the set to which she had belonged at Girton, hadestablished it as a principle to their own satisfaction, that feminineweaknesses were to be sternly discouraged as the main cause of theposition held relatively to men. Thus they cultivated a certainbrusqueness of speech, expressed their opinion uncompromisingly, andwere 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, andhad, when she attired herself, been conscious that she felt a greatersatisfaction at her appearance than she ought to have done, and doubtedwhether she had not made an undue concession to the vanities of societyin the matter of her laces and flowers. She had, however, soothed herconscience by the consideration that she was at home but for a shorttime, and while there she might well fall in with her parents' views, asshe would be soon starting for Germany to enter upon earnest work. Herfather's remarks then were in a sense satisfactory to her, as theyshowed that, although she had made concessions, she had at least gonebut half-way. 

The dinner passed off well. Mary was fortunate in being taken down by agentleman who had advanced views on the necessity of Britishagriculturists adopting scientific farming if they were to hold theirown against foreign producers, and she surprised him by the interest sheexhibited in his theories. So much so, that he always spoke of herafterwards as one of the most intelligent young women he had ever met. 

Mr. Brander was in remarkably good spirits. On such occasions heentirely dropped his profession, and showed a keen interest in allmatters connected with the land. No one would that evening have supposedthat his mind was in the smallest degree preoccupied by grave matters ofany kind. 

CHAPTER II. 

As his father had said, Cuthbert Harrington's tastes differed widelyfrom his own. Cuthbert was essentially a Londoner, and his friends wouldhave had difficulty in picturing him as engaged in country pursuits. Indeed, Cuthbert Hartington, in a scarlet coat, or toiling through aturnip field in heavy boots with a gun on his shoulder, would have beento them an absurd anomaly. 

It was not that he lacked strength; on the contrary, he was tall andwell, if loosely, built. Grace is not a common manly attribute, but hepossessed it to an eminent degree. There was a careless ease in hismanner, an unconscious picturesqueness in his poses, a turn, that wouldhave smacked of haughtiness had there been the slightest element ofpride in his disposition, in the curve of the neck, and well-poisedhead. 

His life was chiefly passed among artists, and like them as a class, heaffected loose and easy attire. He wore turn-down collars with acarelessly-knotted necktie, and a velvet jacket. He was one of those menwhom his intimates declared to be capable of doing anything he chose, and who chose to do nothing. He had never distinguished himself in anyway at Harrow. He had maintained a fair place in his forms as he movedup in the school, but had done so rather from natural ability than fromstudy. He had never been in the eleven, although it was the generalopinion he would have certainly had a place in it had he chosen to playregularly. As he sauntered through Harrow so he sauntered throughCambridge; keeping just enough chapels and lectures to avoid gettinginto trouble, passing the examinations without actual discredit, rowinga little, playing cricket when the fit seized him, but preferring totake life easily and to avoid toil, either mental or bodily. Nevertheless he read a great deal, and on general subjects was one ofthe best informed men of his college. 

He spent a good deal of his time in sketching and painting, art beinghis one passion. His sketches were the admiration of his friends, butalthough he had had the best lessons he could obtain at the Universityhe lacked the application and industry to convert the sketches intofinished paintings. His vacations were spent chiefly on the Continent, for his life at home bored him immensely, and to him a week among theSwiss lakes, or in the galleries of Munich or Dresden, was worth morethan all the pleasures that country life could give him. 

He went home for a short time after leaving the University, but his staythere was productive of pleasure to neither his father nor himself. Theyhad not a single taste in common, and though Cuthbert made an effort totake an interest in field sports and farming, it was not long before hisfather himself told him that as it was evident the life was altogetherdistasteful to him, and his tastes lay in another direction, he wasperfectly ready to make him an allowance that would enable him either totravel or to live in chambers in London. 

"I am sorry, of course, lad, " he said, "that you could not make yourselfhappy with me here, but I don't blame you, for it is after all a matterof natural disposition. Of course you will come down here sometimes, andat any rate I shall be happier in knowing that you are living your ownlife and enjoying yourself in your own way, than I should be in seeingyou trying in vain to take to pursuits from which you would derive nopleasure whatever. "

"I am awfully sorry, father, " Cuthbert had said. "I heartily wish it hadbeen otherwise, but I own that I would rather live in London on analmost starvation income than settle down here. I have really tried hardto get to like things that you do. I feel it would have been better if Ihad always stayed here and had a tutor; then, no doubt, I should havetaken to field sports and so on. However, it is no use regretting thatnow, 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 aBohemian Club, where he made the acquaintance of several artists, andsoon became a member of their set. He had talked vaguely of taking upart as a profession, but nothing ever came of it. There was an easel ortwo in his rooms and any number of unfinished paintings; but he wasfastidious over his own work and unable from want of knowledge oftechnique to carry out his ideas, and the canvases were one afteranother thrown aside in disgust. His friends upbraided him bitterly withhis want of application, not altogether without effect; he took theirremonstrances in perfect good temper, but without making the slightesteffort to improve. He generally accompanied some of them on theirsketching expeditions to Normandy, Brittany, Spain, or Algiers, and hisportfolios were the subject of mingled admiration and anger among hisartist friends in St. John's Wood; admiration at the vigor and talentthat his sketches displayed, anger that he should be content to donothing greater. 

His days were largely spent in their studios where, seated in the mostcomfortable chair he could find, he would smoke lazily and watch them atwork and criticise freely. Men grumbled and laughed at his presumption, but were ready to acknowledge the justice of his criticism. He had anexcellent eye for color and effect and for the contrast of light andshade, and those whose pictures were hung, were often ready enough toadmit that the canvas owed much of its charm to some happy suggestion onCuthbert's often ready part. 

Every two or three months he went home for a fortnight. He was greatlyattached to his father, and it was the one drawback to the contentmentof 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 bemoanhimself over this to his friends. 

"I am as bad as the prodigal son, " he would say, "except that I don'tget 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 Ican't bring myself to do so. "

"I don't know about being a prodigal, " Wilson, one of the oldest of hisset would grumble in reply, "but I do know you are a lazy young beggar, and are wasting your time and opportunities; it is a thousand pities youwere born with a silver spoon in your mouth. Your father ought to haveturned you adrift with an allowance just sufficient to have kept you onbread and butter, and have left you to provide everything else foryourself; then you would have been an artist, sir, and would have made abig name for yourself. You would have had no occasion to waste your timein painting pot-boilers, but could have devoted yourself to good, honest, serious work, which is more than most of us can do. We areobliged to consider what will sell and to please the public by turningout what they call pretty pictures--children playing with dogs, andtrumpery things of that sort. Bah, it is sickening to see a young fellowwasting his life so. "

But Cuthbert only laughed good-temperedly, he was accustomed to suchtirades, and was indeed of a singularly sweet and easy temper. 

It was the end of the first week in May, the great artistic event of theyear was over, the Academy was opened, the pictures had been seen andcriticised, there was the usual indignation at pictures being hunggenerally voted to be daubs, while others that had been considered amongthe studios as certain of acceptance, had been rejected. Two or three ofCuthbert's friends were starting at once for Cornwall to enjoy a restafter three months' steady work and to lay in a stock of fresh sketchesfor pictures for the following year. 

"I will go with you, " Cuthbert said when they informed him of theirintention, "it is early yet, but it is warm enough even for loafing onthe rocks, and I hate London when it's full. I will go for a fortnightanyhow, " and so with Wilson and two younger men, he started for Newquay, on the north of Cornwall. Once established there the party met only atmeals. 

"We don't want to be doing the same bits, " Wilson said, "and we shallsee plenty of each other of an evening. " Cuthbert was delighted with theplace, and with his usual enthusiasm speedily fixed upon a subject, andsetting up his easel and camp-stool began work on the morning after hisarrival. He had been engaged but a few hours when two young ladies camealong. They stopped close to him, and Cuthbert, who hated beingoverlooked when at work, was on the point of growling an anathema underhis fair drooping mustache, when one of the girls came close and saidquietly--

"How are you, Mr. Hartington? Who would have thought of meeting youhere?"

He did not recognize her for a moment and then exclaimed--

"Why, it is Mary Brander. I beg your pardon, " he went on, taking off hissoft, broad-brimmed hat, "I ought to have said Miss Brander, but havingknown you so long as Mary Brander, the name slipped out. It must havebeen three years since we met, and you have shot up from a girl into afull-grown young lady. Are your father and mother here?"

"No, I came down last week to stay with my friend, Miss Treadwyn, whowas at Girton with me. Anna, this is Mr. Cuthbert Hartington. Mr. Hartington's place is near Abchester, and he is one of my father'sclients. "

Miss Treadwyn bowed and Cuthbert took off his hat. 

"We have known each other ever since we were children, " Mary went on, "that is to say ever since I was a child, for he was a big boy then; heoften used to come into our house, while Mr. Hartington was going intobusiness matters with my father, and generally amused himself by teasingme. He used to treat me as if I was a small sort of monkey, andgenerally ended by putting me in a passion; of course that was in theearly days. "

"Before you came to years of discretion, Miss Brander. You were growinga very discreet damsel when I last saw you, and I felt rather afraid ofyou. I know that you were good enough to express much disapproval of meand my ways. "

"Very likely I did, though I don't remember it. I think I was veryoutspoken in those days. "

"I do not think you have changed much in that respect, Mary, " MissTreadwyn said. 

"Why should one say what one does not think, " Mary said, sturdily, "itwould be much better if we all did so. Do you not agree with me, Mr. Hartington?"

"It depends upon what 'better' means; it would be awful to think of theconsequences if we all did so. Society would dissolve itself into itscomponent parts and every man's hand would be against his neighbor. I donot say that people should say what they do not think, but I am surethat the world would not be so pleasant as it is by a long way if everyone was to say exactly what he did think. Just imagine what thesensation of authors or artists would be if critics were to state theiropinions with absolute candor!"

"I think it were better if they did so, Mr. Hartington; in that casethere would be fewer idiotic books written and fewer men wasting theirlives in trying vainly to produce good paintings. "

"That is true enough, " Cuthbert laughed, "but you must remember thatcritics do not buy either books or paintings, and that there are plentyof people who buy the idiotic books and are perfectly content withpictures without a particle of artistic merit. "

"I suppose so, " she admitted, reluctantly, "but so much the worse, forit causes mediocrity!"

"But we are most of us mediocre--authors like Dickens, Thackeray, andGeorge Eliot are the exception--and so are artists like Millais andLandseer, but when books and paintings give pleasure they fulfil theirpurpose, don't they?"

"If their purpose is to afford a livelihood to those that make them, Isuppose they do, Mr. Hartington; but they do not fulfil what ought to betheir purpose--which should, of course, be to elevate the mind or toimprove the taste. "

He shook his head. 

"That is too lofty an ideal altogether for me, " he said. "I doubtwhether men are much happier for their minds being improved or theirtastes elevated, unless they are fortunate enough to have sufficientmeans to gratify those tastes. If a man is happy and contented with thestreet he lives in, the house he inhabits, the pictures on his walls, and the books he gets from a library, is he better off when you teachhim that the street is mean and ugly, the house an outrage onarchitectural taste, the wall-papers revolting, the pictures daubs, andthe books trash? Upon my word I don't think so. I am afraid I am aPhilistine. "

"But you are an artist, are you not, Mr. Hartington, " Miss Treadwynsaid, looking at the sketch which had already made considerableprogress. 

"Unfortunately, no; I have a taste for art, but that is all. I should bebetter off if I had not, for then I should be contented with doingthings like this; as it is I am in a perpetual state of grumble becauseI can do no better. "

"You know the Latin proverb _meliora video_, and so on, Mr. Hartington, does it apply?"

"That is the first time I have had Latin quoted against me by a younglady, " Cuthbert said, smilingly, but with a slight flush that showed theshaft had gone home. "I will not deny that the quotation exactly hits mycase. I can only plead that nature, which gave me the love for art, didnot give me the amount of energy and the capacity for hard work that arerequisite to its successful cultivation, and has not even given me thestimulus of necessity, which is, I fancy, the greatest human motor. "

"I should be quite content to paint as well as you do, Mr. Hartington, "Anna Treadwyn said. "It must add immensely to the pleasure of travellingto be able to carry home such remembrances of places one has seen. "

"Yes, it does so, Miss Treadwyn. I have done a good deal of wanderingabout in a small way, and have quite a pile of portfolios by whose aid Ican travel over the ground again and recall not only the scenery butalmost every incident, however slight, that occurred in connectiontherewith. "

"Well, Anna, I think we had better be continuing our walk. "

"I suppose we had. May I ask, Mr. Hartington, where you are staying? Iam sure my mother will be very pleased if you will call upon us atPorthalloc. There is a glorious view from the garden. I suppose you willbe 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 lightenough to sketch by, Miss Treadwyn, but if your mother will be goodenough to allow me to waive ceremony, I will come up some evening afterdinner; in the meantime may I say that I shall always be found somewherealong the shore, and will be glad to receive with due humility anychidings that my old playmate, if she will allow me to call her so, maychoose to bestow upon me. "

Anna Treadwyn nodded. "I expect we shall be here every day; the sea isnew to Mary, and at present she is wild about it. "

"How could you go on so, Mary, " she went on, as they continued theirwalk. 

"How could I?" the girl replied. "Have we not agreed that one of thechief objects of women's lives should not only be to raise their own sexto the level of man, but generally to urge men to higher aims, and yetbecause I have very mildly shown my disapproval of Cuthbert Hartington'slaziness 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 ofresolutions when we were sitting eight or ten of us together in yourrooms at Girton; but when it comes to putting them into execution onesees things in rather a different light. I quite agree with our theoriesand I hope to live up to them, as far as I can, but it seems to me mucheasier to put the theories into practice in a general way than inindividual cases. A clergyman can denounce faults from the pulpitwithout giving offence to anyone, but if he were to take one of hiscongregation aside and rebuke him, I don't think the experiment would besuccessful. "

"Nathan said unto David, thou art the man. "

"Yes, my dear, but you will excuse my saying that at present you havescarcely attained the position of Nathan. "

Mary Brander laughed. 

"Well, no, but you see Cuthbert Hartington is not a stranger. I haveknown 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 fora long time, and though I had forgotten it, I remember I did tell him mymind last time I saw him. You see his father is a dear old man, quitethe beau-ideal of a country squire, and there he is all alone in his bighouse while his son chooses to live up in London. I have heard my fatherand mother say over and over again that he ought to be at home takinghis place in the county instead of going on his own way, and I haveheard other ladies say the same. "

"Perhaps mothers with marriageable daughters, Mary, " Anna Treadwyn saidwith a smile, "but I don't really see why you should be so severe on himfor going his own way. You are yourself doing so without, I fancy, muchdeference to your parents' opinions, and besides I have heard you many atime rail against the soullessness of the conversation and the gossipand tittle-tattle of society in country towns, meaning in your case inAbchester, and should, therefore, be the last to blame him for revoltingagainst it. "

"You forget, Anna, " Mary said, calmly, "that the cases are altogetherdifferent. He goes his way with the mere selfish desire to amusehimself. I have set, what I believe to be a great and necessary aimbefore me. I don't pretend that there is any sacrifice in it, on thecontrary it is a source of pleasure and satisfaction to devote myself tothe mission of helping my sex to regain its independence, and to take upthe position which it has a right to. "

"Of course we are both agreed on that, my dear, we only differ in thebest way of setting about it. "

"I don't suppose Mr. Hartington will take what I said to heart, " Maryreplied serenely, "and if he does it is a matter of entire indifferenceto me. "

The subject of their conversation certainly showed no signs of takingthe matter to heart. He smiled as he resumed his work. 

"She is just what she used to be, " he said to himself. "She was alwaysterribly in earnest. My father was saying last time I was down that hehad learned from Brander that she had taken up all sorts of Utopiannotions about women's rights and so on, and was going to spend twoyears 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 shewas at the gawky age. She is certainly turning the tables on me, and shehit me hard with that stale old Latin quotation. I must admit it waswonderfully apt. She has a good eye for dress; it is not many girls thatcan stand those severely plain lines, but they suit her figure and faceadmirably. I must get her and her friend to sit on a rock and let me putthem 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 theycame along the shore for a chat with Cuthbert, sometimes sitting down onthe rocks for an hour; their stay, however, being not unfrequently cutshort by Mary getting up with heightened color and going off abruptly. It was Cuthbert's chief amusement to draw her out on her favoritesubject, and although over and over again she told herself angrily thatshe would not discuss it with him, she never could resist falling intothe snares Cuthbert laid for her. She would not have minded had heargued seriously with her, but this was just what he did not do, eitherlaughing at her theory, or replying to her arguments with a mockseriousness that irritated her far more than his open laughter. 

Anna Treadwyn took little part in the discussions, but sat an amusedlistener. Mary had been the recognized leader of her set at Girton; herreal earnestness and the fact that she intended to go abroad to fitherself the better to carry out her theories, but making her a poweramong the others. Much as Anna liked and admired her, it amused hergreatly to see her entangled in the dilemma, into which Cuthbert ledher, occasionally completely posing her by his laughing objections. Ofan evening Cuthbert often went up to Porthalloc, where he was warmlywelcomed by Anna's mother, whose heart he won by the gentle anddeferential manner that rendered him universally popular among theladies of the families of his artist friends. She would sit smilingly bywhen the conflicts of the morning were sometimes renewed, for she sawwith satisfaction that Anna at least was certainly impressed withCuthbert's arguments and banter, and afforded very feeble aid to MaryBrander in her defence of their opinions. 

"I feel really obliged to you, Mr. Hartington, " she said one 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 fromGirton. At one time these gave me a great deal of concern, for my ideasare old-fashioned, and I consider a woman's mission is to cheer andbrighten her husband's home, to be a good wife and a good mother, and tobe content with the position God has assigned to her as being her rightand proper one. However, I have always hoped and believed that she wouldgrow out of her new-fangled ideas, which I am bound to say she nevercarried to the extreme that her friend does. The fact that I am somewhatof an invalid and that it is altogether impossible for her to carry outsuch a plan as Miss Brander has sketched for herself, and that there isno opportunity whatever for her to get up a propaganda in this quietlittle Cornish town, has encouraged that hope; she herself has said butlittle on the subject since she came home, and I think your fights withMiss Brander will go far to complete her cure. "

"It is ridiculous from beginning to end, " Cuthbert said, "but it isnatural enough. It is in just the same way that some young fellows startin life with all sorts of wild radical notions, and settle down inmiddle age into moderate Liberals, if not into contented Conservatives. The world is good enough in its way and at any rate if it is to getbetter it will be by gradual progress and not by individual effort. There is much that is very true in Miss Brander's views that thingsmight be better than they are, it is only with her idea that she has amission to set them right that I quarrel. Earnestness is no doubt a goodthing, but too much of it is a misfortune rather than an advantage. Nodoubt I am prejudiced, " he laughed, "because I am afraid that I have noparticle of it in my composition. Circumstances have been against itsgrowth, and there is no saying what I might be if they were to change. At present, at any rate, I have never felt the want of it, but I canadmire it among others even though I laugh at it. "

A month passed, and Wilson and his two companions moved further alongthe coast in search of fresh subjects, but Cuthbert declined toaccompany them, declaring that he found himself perfectly comfortablewhere he was, at which his companions all laughed, but made no attemptto 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 areperpetually quarrelling. "

"We may be that, " Mary said, shortly, "but we certainly shall not arriveat the same kind of conclusion to our quarrel. "

"You might do worse, Mary; Mr. Hartington is charming. My mother, who isnot given to general admiration, says he is one of the most delightfulmen that she ever met. He is heir to a good estate, and unless I amgreatly mistaken, the idea has occurred to him if not to you. I thoughtso before, but have been convinced of it since he determined to remainhere while those men he was with have all gone away. "

"You will make me downright angry with you, Anna, if you talk suchnonsense, " Mary said, severely. "You know very well that I have alwaysmade up mind that nothing shall induce me to marry and give up myfreedom, at any rate for a great many years, and then only to a man whowill see life as I do, become my co-worker and allow me my independence. Mr. Hartington is the last man I should choose; he has no aim or purposewhatever, and he would ruin my life as well as his own. No, thank you. However, I am convinced that you are altogether mistaken, and CuthbertHartington would no more dream of asking me to be his wife than I shouldof taking him for a husband--the idea is altogether preposterous. "

However, a week later, Cuthbert, on going up to Porthalloc one morning, and catching sight of Mary Brander in the garden by herself, joined herthere and astonished her by showing that Anna was not mistaken in herview. He commenced 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 inlife. Its object is not precisely that which you have set yourself, butit is closely allied to it, my view being that her mission is tocontribute to the sum of human happiness by making one individual manhappy!"

"Do you mean, is it possible that you can mean, that you think woman'smission is to marry?" she asked, with scorn, "are you going back tothat?"

"That is entirely what I meant, but it is a particular case I wasthinking of, rather than a general one. I was thinking of your case andmine. I do not say that you might not do something towards adding to thehappiness of mankind, but mankind are not yearning for it. On the otherhand I am sure that you could make me happy, and I am yearning for thatkind of happiness. "

"Are you really in earnest, Mr. Hartington?"

"Quite in earnest, very much so; in the six weeks that I have been hereI have learnt to love you, and to desire, more earnestly certainly thanI have ever desired anything before, that you should be my wife. I knowthat you do not credit me with any great earnestness of purpose, but Iam quite earnest in this. I do love you, Mary. "

"I am sorry to hear it, and am surprised, really and truly surprised. Ithought you disapproved of me altogether, but I did think you gave mecredit for being sincere. It is clear you did not, or you could notsuppose that I would give up all my plans before even commencing them. Ilike you very much, Cuthbert, though I disapprove of you as much as Ithought you disapproved of me; but if ever I do marry, and I hope Ishall never be weak enough to do so, it must be to someone who has thesame views of life that I have; but I feel sure that I shall never loveanyone if love is really what one reads of in books, where woman isalways ready to sacrifice her whole life and her whole plans to a manwho graciously accepts the sacrifice as a matter of course. "

"I was afraid that that would be your answer, " he said gravely. "And yetI was not disposed to let the chance of happiness go without at leastknowing that it was so. I can quite understand that you do not even feelthat I am really in earnest. So small did I feel my chances were, that Ishould 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 isvery small at the end of that time. Well, it is of no use sayinganything more about it. I may as well say good-bye at once, for I shallpack up and go. Good-bye, dear; I hope that you are wrong, and that someday you will make some man worthy of you happy, but when the time comesremember that I prophesy that he will not in the slightest degreeresemble the man you picture to yourself now. I think that the sayingthat extremes meet is truer than those that assert that like meets like;but whoever he is I hope that he will be someone who will make you ashappy as I should have tried to do. "

"Good-bye, Cuthbert, " she said, frankly, "I think this has all been verysilly, and I hope that by the time we meet again you will have forgottenall about it. "

There was something in his face, as she looked up into it, that told herwhat she had before doubted somewhat, that he had been really in earnestfor once in his life, and she added, "I do hope we shall be quite goodfriends when we meet again, and that you will then see I am quite rightabout this. "

He smiled, gave her a little nod, and then dropping her hand saunteredinto the house. 

"It is the most foolish thing I have ever heard of, " she said toherself, pettishly, as she looked after him. "I can't think how such anidea ever occurred to him. He must have known that even if I had notdetermined as I have done to devote myself to our cause, he was the lastsort of man I should ever have thought of marrying. Of course he is niceand I always thought so, but what is niceness when he has no aims, noambitions 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 nothinglast night about going away, and now he is leaving by this afternoon'scoach; besides, although he laughed and talked as usual one could seewith half an eye that it was forced. So you have actually refused him?"

"Of course I have, how can you ask such a question? It was the mostperfectly 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, tothink that I should be ready to give up all my plans in life, the firsttime I am asked, and that by a gentleman who has not the slightestsympathy 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. 

Cuthbert Hartington had been back in town but two days when he receiveda letter from Mr. Brander apprising him of the sudden death of hisfather. It was a terrible shock, for he had no idea whatever that Mr. Hartington was in any way out of health. Cuthbert had written only theday before to say that he should be down at the end of the week, forindeed he felt unable to settle down to his ordinary course of life inLondon. He at once sent off a telegram ordering the carriage to meet himby the evening train, and also one to Mr. Brander begging him to be atthe house if possible when he arrived. 

Upon hearing from the lawyer that his father had been aware that hemight be carried off at any moment by heart disease, but that he hadstrictly forbidden the doctor and himself writing to him, or informinganyone of the circumstances, he said--

"It is just like my father, but I do wish it had not been so. I mighthave 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 hepreferred it so. He shrunk, as he said, from knowing that people he metwere aware that his days were numbered, and even with me after our firstconversation on the subject, he made no allusion whatever to it. He wasas cheery and bright as ever, and when I last met him a week ago, even Iwho knew the circumstances, could see no difference whatever in hismanner. I thought he was wrong, at first, but I came to the conclusionafterwards that his decision was not an unwise one. He spared you threemonths of unavailing pain; he had no fear of death, and was able to goabout as before to meet his friends without his health being a subjectof discussion, 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-chairafter lunch for his usual half-hour's nap, and evidently expired in hissleep. The servant found him, as he believed, still asleep when he camein to tell him that the carriage was at the door, and it was only ontouching him he discovered what had happened. They sent the carriage offat once to fetch Dr. Edwards. He looked in at my office and took me overwith him, and I got back in time to write to you. "

The shock that the Squire's sudden death caused in Abchester, was, afortnight later, obliterated by the still greater sensation caused bythe news that the bank had put up its shutters. The dismay excitedthereby was heightened when it became known that the manager haddisappeared, and reports got about that the losses of the bank had beenenormous. The first investigation into its affairs more than confirmedthe worst rumors. For years it had been engaged in propping up the firmnot only of Mildrake and Co. , which had failed to meet its engagementson the day preceding the announcement of the bank's failure, but ofthree others which had broken down immediately afterwards. In all ofthese firms Mr. Cumming 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 hewent into the room where Cuthbert was sitting, listlessly, with a bookbefore him. 

"I have a piece of very bad news to tell you, Mr. Hartington, " 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. Hadwe any money in it?"

"I wish that was all, it is much worse than that, sir. Your father was ashareholder in the bank. "

"He never mentioned it to me, " Cuthbert said, his air of indifferencestill unchanged. 

"He only bought shares a comparatively short time ago, I think it wasafter you were here the last time. There were some vague rumors afloatas 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 ideathat the bank was in difficulties, but I was in no way behind thescenes. I transacted their legal business for them in the way of drawingup mortgages, investigating titles, and seeing to the purchase and salesof property here in the county; beyond that I knew nothing of theiraffairs. I was not consulted at all in the matter. Your father simplysaid 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 asa county gentleman I ought to support the County Bank, and I wish you tobuy say fifty shares for me. '"

"That was just like my father, " Cuthbert said, admiringly, "he alwaysthought a great deal of his county, and I can quite understand hisacting as he did. Well, they were ten pound shares, I think, so it isonly five hundred gone at the worst. "

"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 tothe full extent of his property, and although I earnestly hope that onlythe bank's capital has been lost, I can't disguise from you that in theevent of there being a heavy deficiency it will mean ruin to several ofthe shareholders. "

"That is bad, indeed, " Cuthbert said, thoroughly interested now. "Ofcourse 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 areport this morning that Mr. Hislop, who was, as you know, the chairmanof 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 badas possible, and Fairclose and all the estate go, I shall be better offthan many people. I shall have that five thousand pounds that came to meby my mother's settlement, I suppose?"

"Yes, no doubt. The shares have not been transferred to my name as yourfather's executor. I had intended when I came up next week to go throughthe accounts with you, to recommend you to instruct me to dispose ofthem at once, which I should have done in my capacity of executorwithout transferring them in the first place to you. Therefore, anyclaim there may be will lie against the estate and not against youpersonally. "

"That is satisfactory anyhow, " Cuthbert said, calmly. "I don't know howI should get on without it. Of course I shall be sorry to lose thisplace, but in some respects the loss will be almost a relief to me. Acountry life is not my vocation, and I have been wondering for the lastfortnight what on earth I should do with myself. As it is, I shall, ifit comes to the worst, be obliged to work. I never have worked because Inever have been forced to do so, but really I don't know that theprospects are altogether unpleasant, and at any rate I am sure that Iwould rather be obliged to paint for my living than to pass my life intrying to kill time. "

The lawyer looked keenly at his client, but he saw that he was reallyspeaking in earnest, and that his indifference at the risk of the lossof his estates was unaffected. 

"Well, " he said, after a pause, "I am glad indeed that you take it soeasily; of course, I hope most sincerely that things may not be anythinglike so bad as that, and that, at worst, a call of only a few pounds ashare will be sufficient to meet any deficiency that may exist, still Iam heartily glad to see that you are prepared to meet the event in sucha spirit, for to most men the chance of such a calamity would becrushing. "

"Possibly I might have felt it more if it had come upon me two or threeyears later, just as I had got to be reconciled to the change of life, but you see I have so recently and unexpectedly come into the estatethat I have not even begun to appreciate the pleasures of possession orto feel that they weigh in the slightest against the necessity of mybeing obliged to give up the life I have been leading for years. By thebye, " he went on, changing the subject carelessly, "how is your daughtergetting on in Germany? I happened to meet her at Newquay three weeksago, and she told me she was going out there in the course of a week orso. I suppose she has gone. "

"Yes, she has gone, " Mr. Brander said, irritably. "She is just as bentas you were, if you will permit me to say so, on the carrying out of herown scheme of life. It is a great annoyance to her mother and me, butargument has been thrown away upon her, and as unfortunately the girlshave each a couple of thousand, left under their own control by theirmother's sister, she was in a position to do as she liked. However, Ihope that a year or two will wean her from the ridiculous ideas he hastaken up. "

"I should doubt whether her cure will be as prompt as you think, itseemed to me that her ideas were somewhat fixed, and it will need a gooddeal of failure to disillusionize 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 droveover directly I had finished my breakfast and must hurry back again tothe office. Well, I hope with all my heart, Mr. Hartington, that thismost unfortunate affair will not turn out so badly after all. "

Cuthbert did not echo the sentiment, but accompanied his visitorsilently to the door, and after seeing him off returned to the room, where he reseated himself in his chair, filled and lighted his pipe, puthis legs on to another chair, and proceeded to think the matter out. 

It was certainly a wholly unexpected change; but at present he did notfeel it to be an unpleasant one, but rather a relief. He had for thelast ten days been bemoaning himself. While but an heir apparent hecould live his own life and take his pleasure as he liked. As owner ofFairclose he had duties to perform--he had his tenants' welfare to lookafter, there would be the bailiff to interview every morning and to gointo all sorts of petty details as to hedges and ditches, fences andrepairs, and things he cared not a jot for, interesting as they were tohis dear old father. He supposed he should have to go on the Bench andto 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 beexpected to hunt and to shoot. It had all seemed to him inexpressedlydreary. Now all that was, if Brander's fears were realized, at an end, even if it should not turn out to be as bad as that, the sum he would becalled upon to pay might be sufficient to cripple the estate and toafford him a good and legitimate excuse for shutting up or letting thehouse, and going away to retrench until the liabilities were all clearedoff. Of course he would have to work in earnest now, but even thethought of that was not altogether unpleasant. 

"I believe it is going to be the best thing that ever happened to me, "he said to himself. "I know that I should never have done anything if ithadn't been for this, and though I am not fool enough to suppose I amever going to turn out anything great, I am sure that after a couple ofyears' hard work I ought to paint decently, and anyhow to turn out asgood things as some of those men. It is just what I have always beenwanting, though I did not know it. I am afraid I shall have to cut allthose dear old fellows, for I should never be able to give myself up towork among them. I should say it would be best for me to go over toParis; I can start on a fresh groove there. At my age I should not liketo go through any of the schools here. I might have three months withTerrier; that would be just the thing to give me a good start; he is agood 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 hedoes. He has gone through our own schools, was a year at Paris, andanother at Rome. He has got the whole thing at his fingers' ends, andwould make a splendid master if he would but go in for pupils, but withall that he can't paint a picture. He has not a spark of imagination, nor an idea of art; he has no eye for color, or effect. He can paintadmirably what he sees, but then he sees nothing but bare facts. He isalways hard up, poor fellow, and it would be a real boon to him to takeme for three months and stick at it hard with me, and by the end of thattime I ought to be able to take my place in some artist's school inParis without feeling myself to be an absolute duffer among a lot offellows younger than myself. By Jove, this news is like a breeze on theeast coast in summer--a little sharp, perhaps, but splendidly bracingand healthy, just the thing to set a fellow up and make a man of him. Iwill go out for a walk and take the dogs with me. "

He got up, went to the stables, and unchained the dogs, who leapt roundhim in wild delight, for the time of late had been as dull for them asfor him; told one of the stable boys to go to the house and say that hewould not be back to lunch, and then went for a twenty mile walk overthe hills, and returned somewhat tired with the unaccustomed exertion, but with a feeling of buoyancy and light-heartedness such as he had notexperienced 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, tellingMr. Brander to let him know as soon as the committee, that had alreadycommenced its investigations 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 himutterly impossible that anyone should really be indifferent to losing afine estate, and yet he could see no reason for Cuthbert's assumingindifference on so vital a subject unless he felt it. He even discussedthe matter with his wife. 

"I cannot understand that young Hartington, " he said; "most men wouldhave been completely crumpled up at the news I gave him, but he took itas quietly as if it had been a mere bagatelle. The only possibleexplanation of his indifference that I can think of is that he must havemade some low marriage in London, and does not care about introducinghis wife to the county; it is just the sort of thing that a man with hisirregular Bohemian habits might do--a pretty model, perhaps, or somepeasant girl he has come across when out sketching. "

"He never did care particularly about anything, " Mrs. Brander said, "andit may be he is really glad to get away from the country. "

"That would be possible enough if he had a good income in addition toFairclose, but all that he will have is that five thousand that came tohim from his mother, and I should say he is likely enough to run throughthat 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 amad thing as to take those shares. "

"I know what I am doing, my dear, don't you worry yourself about that. You have been wanting me for a very long time to give up business andgo into the country. How would Fairclose suit you?"

"You are not in earnest, " she exclaimed, with an excitement very unusualto her. "You can't mean that?"

"I don't often say what I don't mean, my dear, and if Fairclose comesinto the market, more unlikely things than that may come to pass; butmind, not a word of this is to be breathed. "

"And do you really think it will come into the market?" she asked. 

"As certain as the sun will rise to-morrow morning. We only held ourfirst meeting to-day, but that was enough to show us that the directorsought all to be shut up in a lunatic asylum. The affairs of the bank arein a frightful state, simply frightful; it means ruin to every oneconcerned. "

"It is fortunate, indeed, that you did not hold any shares, Jeremiah. "

"I was not such a fool, " he said, shortly, "as to trust my money in thehands of a body of men who were all no doubt excellent fellows andadmirable county gentlemen, but who knew no more of business thanbabies, and who would be mere tools in the hands of their manager; and Ihad the excellent excuse that I considered the legal adviser of a bankshould have no pecuniary stake whatever in its affairs, but be able toact altogether 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 somecomplacency. "You can reserve your compliments, my dear, until we areestablished at Fairclose. All I ask is that you won't ask any questionsor allude to the matter until it is settled, but leave it entirely in myhands. So far things are working in the right direction. "

"Perhaps it will be a good thing for Cuthbert Hartington after all, " shesaid, after sitting for some minutes in silence. 

"No doubt it will, " he said. "At any rate as he does not take it toheart in the slightest degree, we need not worry ourselves over him. "

"It is funny, " she said, "but sometimes the idea has occurred to me thatCuthbert might some day take a fancy to one of our girls, and I mightsee one of them mistress at Fairclose; but I never dreamt I might bemistress there myself, and I can't guess, even now, how you can think ofmanaging it. "

"Don't you trouble to guess, at all, my dear; be content with the plumwhen it falls into your mouth, and don't worry yourself as to how Imanage to shake the tree to bring the fruit down. "

Three weeks later it became known definitely that after calling up theremainder of the bank's capital there would be a deficiency of nearly amillion, and that every shareholder would be called upon to contributeto the full extent of his ability, to cover the losses. One or twoletters from Mr. Brander had already prepared Cuthbert for the finalresult of the investigation, and he had already begun to carry out theplan 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 ofcoming into his father's estates, as he had expected, it was not likelyhe would ever touch a penny from them, as his father had been ashareholder in the Abchester Bank, and so he believed everything wouldbe swept away. 

"Fortunately, " he went on, "I have got enough of my own to keep my headabove water, and, I dare say you fellows won't believe me, but I mean togo to work in earnest. "

The announcement was made to a dozen men who were smoking in Wilson'sstudio, he having returned the day before from Cornwall. 

"Well, youngster, I won't commiserate with you, " he growled. "I havebeen wondering since I heard from King last night what had kept youaway, what on earth you would do with yourself now you have come intoyour money. I often thought it was the worst thing in the world for youthat 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 isthe best thing that ever happened to you. "

"I am not quite sure that I do not think so already, " Cuthbert replied. "I am not at all disposed to fancy myself a martyr, I can assure you. Imean to go over to Paris and enter an Art School there. I know what youfellows 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 monthsin the year, and work for four or five hours a day for the other three. "

"Saul among the prophets!" Wilson exclaimed. "The idea of CuthbertHartington rebuking us for laziness is rich indeed, " and a roar oflaughter showed the general appreciation of the absurdity. 

"Never mind, " Cuthbert said, loftily. "You will see; 'from morn tilldewy eve, ' will be my idea of work. It is the way you men loaf, and callit working, that has so far kept me from setting to. Now I am going toburst the bonds of the Castle of Indolence, and when I come back fromParis I shall try to stir you all up to something like activity. "

There was another laugh, and then Wilson said, "Well, it is the bestthing you can do to go abroad. I don't believe you would ever make afresh start here. "

"I have made fresh a start, Wilson; our respected brother Terrier here, has undertaken to teach me the rudiments, and for the next three monthshis studio doors will be closed to all visitors from ten to five. "

"Is that so? I congratulate you, Cuthbert; that really looks likebusiness, and if Terrier can't teach you how to use the brush and put oncolor no one can. Gentlemen, we will drink the health of the new boy. Here is to Cuthbert Hartington, and success to him. " Glasses were raisedand the sentiment heartily echoed. 

For three months Cuthbert worked steadily; to his own surprise, not lessthan to that of his instructor, he found the hours none too long forhim. During that time he had received a letter from Mr. Brander thatsurprised him. 

"Dear Mr. Hartington, --In accordance with your instructions I at onceinformed the Receiver of the bank that you were prepared to hand overthe Fairclose estates for the benefit of the creditors, instead ofwaiting for the calls to be made, and that you wished the matter to bearranged as speedily as possible as you were shortly going abroad. Thenecessary deeds will in a few days be prepared. You will doubtless besurprised to hear that I have arranged with the Receiver for thepurchase of the estates by private treaty. I have long been intending toretire from business, and have been on the lookout for an estate in thecounty. I hope this arrangement will not be displeasing to you. "

As Mr. Brander had the reputation of being a wealthy man, and his wife'swishes that he should retire from business and purchase an estate in thecounty were public property, Cuthbert was not surprised, but at the sametime he was not altogether pleased. He had never liked the lawyer. Hehad no particular grounds for not doing so, but he had as a boy aninstinctive notion that he was a humbug. 

"I wonder, " he said to himself, "whether he has all along had an eye toFairclose, and whether he really did his best to dissuade my father frommaking that disastrous investment. At any rate, it does not make anydifference to me who is there. It might have been some stranger, somemanufacturing fellow; I would rather think of Mary being at the oldplace than a man of that sort. He would have been more likely thanBrander to be hard on the tenants, and to have sold off all the thingsand have turned the place inside out. I don't say that under ordinarycircumstances I should choose Brander as a landlord, but he will knowwell enough that there would be nothing that would do him more harm inthe county than a report that he was treating the Squire's tenantsharshly. Well, I suppose I had better write him a line saying that I amglad to hear that he has bought the place, as I would naturally preferthat 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 respectedtownsman, Mr. J. Brander, has purchased the house and estate ofFairclose, which has come into the market owing to the failure of theAbchester Bank, in which the late Mr. Hartington was most unfortunatelya shareholder, and which has involved hundreds of families in ruin. Thegreatest sympathy is everywhere expressed for Mr. Cuthbert Hartington. We understand that the price given by Mr. Brander was £55, 000. Webelieve that we are correct in stating that Mr. Brander was the holderof a mortgage of £15, 000 on the estate. "

"Mortgage for £15, 000, " Cuthbert repeated, "impossible. Why should myfather have mortgaged the place? He could have no occasion to raise themoney. His tastes were most simple, and I am sure that he never livedbeyond his income. He paid me a handsome allowance, but, thank God, Inever exceeded it. What in the world can this mean! I will write toBrander at once. No, I won't, I will write to the liquidator. If therewas such a thing he is certain to have looked into it closely, for itwas so much off the sum available for assets. "

By return of post Cuthbert received the following letter:

"Dear Mr. Hartington--In reply to your question I beg to confirm thestatement in the newspaper cutting you send to me. Mr. Brander was theholder of a mortgage for £15, 000 on your father's estate. I looked intothe matter very closely, as it came as a surprise upon us. Everythingwas in proper order. Mr. Brander's bank-book showed that he drew out£15, 000 on the date of the mortgage, and the books of the bank confirmhis book. Notice had been given to them a week previously that he wouldrequire that sum in notes and gold, and it was so paid over to him. Hisbooks also show payment of the interest, and his receipts for the samewere found among Mr. Hartington's papers. There was, therefore, noshadow of a doubt possible as to the genuine nature of themortgage. --Yours truly, W. H. Cox. "

Although satisfied that for some reason or other his father had borrowedthis sum on mortgage from his lawyer, Cuthbert was no less puzzled thanbefore as to the purpose for which it had been raised, or what hisfather could possibly have done with the money. He, therefore, wrote toMr. Brander, saying that though it was a matter in which he had himselfno pecuniary interest, he should be glad if he would inform him of thecircumstance which led his father to borrow such a sum. 

"I thought, " he said, "that I knew everything about my father's moneyaffairs, for he always spoke most openly about them to me, and he neverlet drop a word as to the mortgage or as to any difficulty in which hehad involved himself, or any investment he had thought of making; and Iam, therefore, entirely at a loss to understand how he could haverequired such a sum of money. "

The lawyer's answer came in due course. 

"My dear Mr. Hartingon, --I was in no way surprised at the receipt ofyour letter, and indeed have been expecting an inquiry from you as tothe mortgage. It happened in this way: Some three years ago your fathersaid to me, 'I want to raise £15, 000 on the estate, Brander. ' I wasnaturally greatly surprised, for acting for him as I did, I was, ofcourse, aware that he lived well within his income. He went on, 'Ofcourse you are surprised, Brander, but as you must know well most menhave a skeleton in a cupboard somewhere. I have one, and as I am gettingon in life I want to bury it for good. It makes no difference to youwhat it is, and I have no intention of going into the matter. Itsuffices that I want £15, 000. ' 'Of course there is no difficulty aboutthat, sir, ' I said, 'the estate is unencumbered, and as there is noentail you are free to do with it as you like. 'But I want it donequietly, ' he said, 'I don't want it talked about that I have mortgagedFairclose. 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 thatI would much rather have nothing to do with it, as I have alwaysconsidered it a mistake for lawyers to become principals in moneytransactions with their clients, and had always refused to do anythingof the sort. However, he put the matter so strongly that he at lastinduced 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 noone, even at the bank, should be aware that such a sum had passedbetween us. Of course the mortgage was drawn up in the usual form andduly executed and witnessed, and I have no doubt that the liquidator ofthe bank will be happy to show you your father's receipt for the moneyand the receipts given by me to him for the interest. As you say thematter does not pecuniarily affect you now, but at the same time I amnaturally anxious you should satisfy yourself thoroughly that thetransaction was in every respect a bona fide one. "

Cuthbert sat for some time with the letter before him. 

"I suppose the dear old dad must have got into some scrape or otheryears 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 Isuppose he could not wind himself up to the point, and I have no doubthe intended to tell me some day, and would have done so if he hadn'tbeen carried off so suddenly. Anyhow, he knew me well enough to be surethat when I heard of this mortgage, and learned how it had been donethat my love and respect for him would be sufficient to prevent mytrying to search into his past. He little thought that the mortgagewould not affect me to the extent of a penny. Well, there is an end ofit, and I won't think any more about the matter the secret is dead andburied; 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 betterfurnished than the majority of the students' lodgings, on the secondfloor of a house in Quartier Latin. The occupant of the room below, Arnold Dampierre, was with him. He was a man three or four yearsCuthbert's junior, handsome, grave-eyed, and slightly built; he was anative of Louisiana, and his dark complexion showed a taint of Mulattoblood 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 wantto break off my work, and as you know am ambitious enough to intend toget a couple of pictures finished in time for the Salon, althoughwhether they will hang there, is another matter altogether. "

"Don't pretend to be modest, Cuthbert. You know well enough they will behung, and more than that, they will be a success. I would wager ahundred dollars to a cent on it, though you haven't as yet settled onthe subjects. You know that you are Goudé's favorite pupil and that hepredicts great things for you, and there is not one of us who does notagree with him. You know what Goudé said of the last thing you did. 'Gentlemen, I should be proud to be able to sign my name in the cornerof this picture, it is admirable. '"

"It was but a little thing, " Cuthbert said, carelessly, but neverthelesscoloring slightly, "I hope to do much better work in the course ofanother year. " Then he went back to the former subject of conversation. 

"Yes, I shall see it through. We have had a good many excitementsalready--the march away of the troops, and the wild enthusiasm and theshouts of 'À Berlin!' I don't think there was a soul in the crowd whowas not convinced that the Germans were going to be crumpled up like asheet 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 thatthe Prussians were not fools, and would not have chosen this time toforce France into a war if they had not felt that they were much betterprepared for it than Napoleon was. Since then it has been just asexciting the other way--the stupor of astonishment, the disappointmentand rage as news of each disaster came in; then that awful business atSedan, the uprising of the scum here, the flight of the Empress, theproclamation of the Republic, and the idiotic idea that seized theParisians that the Republic was a sort of fetish, and that the mere factof its establishment would arrest the march of the Germans. Well, now weare going to have a siege, I suppose, and as I have never seen one, itwill be interesting. Of course I have no shadow of faith in thechattering newspaper men and lawyers, who have undertaken the governmentof France; but they say Trochu is a good soldier, and Paris ought to beable to hold out for some time. The mobiles are pouring in, and I thinkthey will fight well, especially the Bretons. Their officers aregentlemen, and though I am sure they would not draw a sword for theRepublic, they will fight sturdily for France. I would not miss it foranything. I am not sure that I shan't join one of the volunteerbattalions 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 alongthe streets and saw a big lout pick a quarrel with a weaker one and thenproceed to smash him up altogether, I fancy I should take a hand in thebusiness. The Germans deliberately forced on the war. They knewperfectly well that when they put up a German Prince as candidate forthe throne of Spain it would bring on a war with France. Why, weourselves were within an ace of going to war with France when Guizotbrought about the Spanish marriage, although it was comparatively ofslight importance to us that Spain and France should be united. But tothe French this thing was an absolutely vital question, for with Germanyand Spain united their very existence would be threatened, and they hadnothing for it but to fight, as Germany knew they would have to do. "

"But the candidature was withdrawn, Hartington. "

"Withdrawn! ay, after the damage was done and France in a flame ofindignation. 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 hewithdraws the insult I am going to keep my hands in my pockets? Twicealready has France been humiliated and has stood it? Once when Prussiamade that secret treaty with Bavaria and Baden, and threw it scornfullyin her face; the second time over that Luxembourg affair. Does Germanythink that a great nation, jealous of its honor and full of fieryelements, is going to stand being kicked as often as she chooses tokick her? You may say that France was wrong in going to war when she wasreally unprepared, and I grant she was unwise, but when a man keeps oninsulting you, you don't say to yourself I must go and take lessons inboxing before I fight him. You would hit out straight even if he weretwice as big as yourself. That is what I feel about it, Dampierre, andfeeling so I fancy that when the thing begins here I shall get too hotover it to help joining in. Ah, here come some of the lads. "

There was a clatter of feet on the staircase, and a moment later half adozen young Frenchmen ran in in a state of wild excitement. 

"They have entered Versailles, a party of their horsemen have been seenfrom Valerian, and a shot has been fired at them. They have fled. "

"Well, I should think they naturally would, " Cuthbert said. "A handfulof horsemen are not likely to remain to be made targets of by the gunsof Valerian. "

"It is the beginning of the end, " one of the students exclaimed. "Pariswill assert herself, France will come to her assistance, and the Germanswill 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, René, but I own I have considerable doubts of it. A man whenhe begins to fight, fights because he is there and has got to do it. Ifhe does not kill the enemy he will be killed; if he does not thrash theenemy he will be thrashed; and for the time being the question whetherit is by a despot or by a Provisional Government that he is ruled doesnot matter to him one single jot. As to the Parisians, we shall see. Isincerely hope, they will do all that you expect of them, but in pointof fact I would rather have a battalion of trained soldiers than abrigade of untrained peasants or citizens, however full of ardor theymay be. "

"Ah, you English, it is always discipline, discipline. "

"You are quite right, René, that is when it comes to fighting in theopen; fighting in the streets of a town is a very different thing. ThenI grant individual pluck will do wonders. Look at Saragosa, look atLucknow. Civilians in both cases fought as well as the best trainedsoldiers could do, but in the field discipline is everything. Puttingaside the great battles where your feudal lords, with their brave butundisciplined followers, met our disciplined bow and billmen, look atthe Jacquerie, the peasants were brave enough, and were animated by hateand despair, but they were scattered like chaff by mere handfuls ofknights and men-at-arms. The Swiss have defended their mountains againstthe armies of despots, because they had mountains to defend, and wereaccustomed to scaling the rocks, and all good shots, just as the peopleof 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, butfamine will enter, and, defend yourselves as obstinately as you may, thetime must come when food will give out. "

"As if we should wait to be starved, " another of the students saidscoffingly. "If the time comes when there's nothing to eat, we would setParis on fire and hurl ourselves every man upon the Germans, and fightour way through. Do you think that they could block every road roundParis?"

"I know nothing about military affairs, Leroux, and therefore don'tsuppose anything one way or the other. I believe the Parisians will makea 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. Butas to the end, my belief is that it will be decided not by Paris but byFrance. "

"Bravo, bravo, Cuthbert, " the others exclaimed, "that shows, indeed, that you love France. René said he thought you would shoulder a musketwith 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 forwhat you call glory, you would be right, but you can take my word for itthat in spite of what peace-at-any-price people may say, there are nopeople in the world who are more ready to fight when they think they areright, than Englishmen. We find it hard enough to get recruits in timeof peace, but in time of war we can get any number we want. Theregiments chosen to go to the front are delighted, those who have tostay behind are furious. Glory has nothing to do with it. It is just thelove of fighting. I don't say that I am thinking of joining one of yourvolunteer battalions because I want to fight. I do so because I thinkyou are in the right, and that this war has been forced upon you by theGermans, who are likely to inflict horrible sufferings on the city. "

"Never mind why you are going to fight, " Leroux said, "you are going tofight for us, and that is enough. You are a good comrade. And yourfriend, here, what is he going to do?"

"I shall join also, " Dampierre said. "You are a Republic now, like ourown, and of course my sympathies are wholly with you. "

"Vive la Republique! Vive l'Americain!" the students shouted. 

Cuthbert Hartington shrugged his shoulders. 

"We were just starting for a stroll to the walls to see how they aregetting on with the work of demolition. Are any of you disposed to gowith us?"

They were all disposed, being in so great a state of excitement thatanything was better than staying indoors quietly. The streets were fullof people, carts were rumbling along, some filled with provisions, others with the furniture and effects of the houses now being pulleddown outside the _enciente_, or from the villas and residences at SèvresMeudon and other suburbs and villages outside the line of defence. 

Sometimes they came upon battalions of newly-arrived mobiles, who wereloudly cheered by the populace as they marched along; sturdy sunburntpeasants with but little of the bearing of soldiers, but with an earnestserious expression that seemed to say they would do their best againstthe foes who were the cause of their being torn away from their homesand occupations. Staff officers galloped about at full speed; soldiersof the garrison or of Vinoy's Corps, who had come in a day or twobefore, lounged about the streets looking in at the shops. No smallproportion of the male population wore kepis, which showed that theybelonged either to the National Guard or to the battalions that werespringing into existence. 

"Why do we not register our names to-day!" René exclaimed. 

"Because a day or two will make no difference, " Cuthbert replied, "andit is just as well to find out before we do join something about the menin command. Let us above all things choose a corps where they have hadthe good sense to get hold of two or three army men, who have hadexperience in war, as their field officers. We don't want to be under aworthy citizen who has been elected solely because he is popular in hisquarter, or a demagogue who is chosen because he is a fluent speaker, and has made himself conspicuous by his abuse of Napoleon. This is notthe 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 thereis work to be done, and will be doing outpost duty, whilst many of theothers will be kept within the walls as being of no practical use. Justat present everything is topsy-turvy, but you may be sure that Trochuand 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 onand what are not. "

Crossing the river they made their way out beyond the walls. Even thelight-hearted students were sobered by the sight beyond. Thousands ofmen were engaged on the work of demolition. Where but ten days sincestood villas surrounded by gardens and trees, there was now a mere wasteof 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 carriedinto Paris for firewood. Most of the walls were levelled, and frequentcrashes of masonry showed that these last vestiges of bright and happyhomes would soon disappear. A continuous stream of carts andfoot-passengers came along the road to the gate--the men grim andbitter, the women crying, and all laden with the most valued of theirlittle belongings. Numbers of cattle and herds of sheep, attended byguards, grazed in the fields beyond the forts. 

"By Jove, Dampierre, " Cuthbert said, "if I hadn't made up my mind tojoin a corps before, this scene would decide me. It is pitiful to seeall these poor people, who have no more to do with the war than thebirds in the air, rendered homeless. A good many of the birds have beenrendered homeless too, but fortunately for them it is autumn instead ofspring, and they have neither nests nor nestlings to think of, and canfly away to the woods on the slopes below Meudon. "

"What a fellow you are, Hartington, to be thinking of the birds whenthere are tens of thousands of people made miserable. "

"I fancy the birds are just as capable of feeling misery as we are, "Cuthbert said quietly, "not perhaps over trivial matters, though they dobicker and quarrel a good deal among themselves, but they have theirgreat calamities, and die of thirst, of hunger, and of cold. I rememberduring a very hard frost some years ago our garden was full of dyingbirds, 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 feltpretty nearly as much cut up at it as I do now. I hate to see dumbanimals suffer. There is a sort of uncomplaining misery about them thatappeals to one, at any rate appeals to me, infinitely. These poorfellows are suffering too, you will say. Yes, but they have theirconsolation. They promise themselves that as soon as they get into Paristhey 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 lifeagain as they left it. They have at least the consolation of swearing, aconsolation 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 inearnest and when you are not. "

"Let us go back, " René Caillard, who, with the others, had beenstanding silently, said abruptly. "This is too painful; I feelsuffocated to think that such a humiliation should fall on Paris. Surelyall civilized Europe will rise and cry out against this desecration. " Heturned and with his comrades walked back towards the gate. Cuthbertfollowed with Arnold Dampierre. 

"That is just the way with them, " the former said, "it would have beenno desecration had they encamped before Berlin, but now, because it isthe other way, they almost expect a miracle from Heaven to interpose intheir favor. Curious people the French. Their belief in themselves isfirm and unshakable, and whatever happens it is the fault of others, andnot of themselves. Now, in point of fact, from all we hear, the Germansare conducting the war in a very much more humane and civilized way thanthe French would have done if they had been the invaders, and yet theytreat their misfortunes as if high Heaven had never witnessed suchcalamities. Why, the march of the Germans has been a peaceful processionin comparison with Sherman's march or Sheridan's forays. They havesacked no city, their path is not marked by havoc and conflagration;they fight our men, and maybe loot deserted houses, but as a ruleunarmed 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 areflocking into Paris are making a hideous mistake. If they stopped intheir villages the betting is that no harm would have come to them;whereas now they have left their homes unguarded and untenanted--and itwould not be human nature if the Germans did not occupy them--while inParis they will have to go through all the privations and hardships of asiege and perhaps of a bombardment; besides there are so many morehungry mouths to feed. In my opinion Trochu and the ProvisionalGovernment would have acted very much more wisely had they issued anorder that no strangers, save those whose houses have been destroyed, should be allowed to enter the city, and advising the inhabitants of allthe villages round either to remain quietly in their homes, or to retireto places at a distance. Fighting men might, of course, come in, butall useless mouths will only hasten the date when famine will force thecity 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 andcome to her rescue. "

"If Bazaine cuts his way out of Metz they may do it, but we have heardnothing of his moving, and the longer he stays the more difficulty hewill have of getting out. He has a fine army with him, but if he oncegives time to the Germans to erect batteries commanding every road outof the place, he will soon find it well-nigh impossible to make asortie. Except that army France has nothing she can really rely upon. Itis all very well to talk of a general rising, but you can't create anarmy in the twinkling of an eye; and a host of half-disciplinedpeasants, however numerous, would have no chance against an enemy whohave shown themselves capable of defeating the whole of the trainedarmies of France. No, no, Dampierre, you must make up your mindbeforehand that you are going in on the losing side. Paris may hold outlong enough to secure reasonable terms, but I fancy that is about allthat will come of it. "

The other did not reply. He had something of the unreasoning faith thatpervaded France, that a Republic was invincible, and that France wouldfinally emerge from the struggle victorious. 

"We shall try and find out to-night about the corps, " René Caillardsaid, as the others overtook them some distance inside the gates. "Afterwhat we have seen to-day we are all determined to join without delay. Iheard last night from some men at Veillant's that they and a good manyothers have put their names down for a corps that is to be called theChasseurs des Écoles. They said they understood that it was to becomposed entirely of students. Not all art, of course, but law and otherschools. "

"That would be just the thing, " Cuthbert said, "if they can only getsome good officers. One likes the men one has to work with to be alittle of one's own class. Well, if the officers are all right you canput 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 shan't have to give up work altogether?"

"I should think not, " René said. "I suppose we shall have two or threehours' drill in the morning and nothing more till the time for actioncomes. Of course the troops and the mobiles will do the work at theforts and walls, and we shall be only called out if the Prussiansventure 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 andnot waste my time in parades and sentry duty. Well, we shall meet at thestudio in the morning and you can give us your news then. "

Some fifteen young men met on the following morning at Goudé's studio. 

"Now, gentlemen, " said the artist, a short man, with a large head, andan abundant crop of yellow hair falling on to his shoulders, "please toattend to business while you are here. Paint--you have plenty of timeoutside to discuss affairs. "

M. Goudé was an artist of considerable talent, but of peppery temper. Hehad at one time gone to war with the Hanging Committee of the Salonbecause one of his paintings had been so badly hung that he declared itto be nothing short of an insult, and had forthwith proceeded to publishthe most violent strictures upon them. The result was that on thefollowing year his pictures were not hung at all, whereupon, afteranother onslaught upon them, he had declared his determination neveragain to submit a picture to the judgment of men whose natural stupiditywas only equalled by their ignorance of art. 

This vow he had for eight years adhered to, only occasionally painting apicture and selling it privately, but devoting himself almost entirelyto the studio he had opened, when he ceased exhibiting. He was anadmirable teacher and his list of pupils was always full. He was anexacting master and would take none but students who showed markedability. As a preliminary picture had to be presented to him forexamination, and at least three out of four of the canvases sufficed toensure their authors' prompt rejection. 

It was, therefore, considered an honor to be one of Goudé's pupils, butit had its drawbacks. His criticisms were severe and bitter; and he fellinto violent passions when, as Leroux once observed, he looked like theyellow dwarf in a rage. Cuthbert had heard of him from Terrier, who saidthat Goudé had the reputation of being by far the best master in Paris. He had presented himself to him as soon as he arrived there; hisreception had not been favorable. 

"It is useless, Monsieur, " the master had said, abruptly, "there are twoobjections. In the first place you are too old, in the second place youare a foreigner, and I do not care to teach foreigners. I never had butone here, and I do not want another. He was a Scotchman, and because Itold him one day when he had produced an atrocious daub, that he was animbecile pig, he seized me and shook me till my teeth chattered in myhead, and then kicked over the easel and went out. "

"You may call me an imbecile pig if you like, " Cuthbert said with hisquiet smile, "it would hurt me in no way. I have come over to learn, andI am told you are the best master in Paris. When a man is a great masterhe must be permitted to have his peculiarities, and if he likes to treatgrown-up men as children, of course he can do so, for are we notchildren in art by his side. "

Monsieur Goudé 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 thebest of you. You have no soul, you are monotonous, but you may bringthem. "

An hour later Cuthbert returned to the studio, which was now occupied bythe students. 

"You are prompt, " the master said, looking round from the student whosework he was correcting with no small amount of grumbling andobjurgation. "Put your things on those two spare easels, I will look atthem presently. "

Seeing that several of the other students were smoking, Cuthbert filledand lighted his pipe, calmly placed the pictures on the easels withouttaking off the cloths in which they were wrapped, and then put his handsinto the pockets of his velvet jacket and looked round the room. Afterhis experience of some of the luxuriously arranged studios at St. John'sWood, the room looked bare and desolate. There was no carpet and not asingle chair or lounge of any description. Some fifteen young fellowswere painting. All wore workmen's blouses. All had mustaches, and mostof them had long hair. They appeared intent on their work, but smilesand winks were furtively exchanged, and the careless nonchalance of thistall young Englishman evidently amused them. In four or five minutes M. Goudé turned round and walked towards the easels. Cuthbert stepped tothem and removed the cloths. The master stopped abruptly, looked at themwithout speaking for a minute or two, then walked up and closelyexamined them. 

"They are entirely your own work?" he asked. 

"Certainly, I did not show either of them to my master until I hadfinished them. "

They were companion pictures. The one was a girl standing in a verandacovered with a grapevine, through which bright rays of sunshine shone, one of them falling full on her face. She was evidently listening, andthere was a look of joyous expectancy in her face. Underneath, on themargin of the canvas, was written in charcoal, "Hope. " The otherrepresented the same figure, darkly dressed, with a wan, hopeless lookin her face, standing on a rock at the edge of an angry sea, over whichshe was gazing; while the sky overhead was dark and sombre without arift in the hurrying clouds. It was labelled "Despair. "

For two or three minutes longer M. Goudé looked silently at the picturesand then turning suddenly called out, "Attention, gentlemen. Regardthese pictures, they are the work of this gentleman who desires to entermy studio. In the eight years I have been teaching I have had over twohundred canvases submitted to me, but not one like these. I need not saythat I shall be glad to receive him. He has been well taught. Histechnique is good and he has genius. Gentlemen, I have the honor topresent to you Monsieur Cuthbert Hartington, who is henceforth one ofyou. "

The students crowded round the pictures with exclamations of surpriseand admiration. It was not until M. Goudé said sharply "to work, " thatthey returned to their easels. 

"You will find canvases in that cupboard if you like to set at work atonce. Choose your own size and subject and sketch it out in chalk. Ishould like to see how you work. Ah, you have a portfolio. I will lookthrough your sketches this afternoon if you will leave it here. "

Cuthbert chose a canvas from a pile ready stretched, selected a sketchfrom his portfolio of a wayside inn in Normandy, pinned it on the easelabove the canvas, and then began to work. M. Goudé did not come near himuntil the work was finished for the morning, then he examined what hehad just done. 

"You work rapidly, " he said, "and your eye is good. You preserve theexact proportions of the sketch, which is excellent, though it wasevidently done hastily, and unless I mistake was taken before you hadbegun really to paint. You did not know how to use color, though theeffect is surprisingly good, considering your want of method at thetime. I will look through your portfolio while I am having my lunch. Inan hour we resume work. " So saying he took up the portfolio and left theroom. The students now came up to Cuthbert and introduced themselves oneby one. 

"You see our master in his best mood to-day, " one said. "I never haveseen him so gracious, but no wonder. Now we have no ceremony here. I amRené, and this is Pierre, and this Jean, and you will be Cuthbert. "

"It is our custom in England, " Cuthbert said, "that a new boy alwayspays his footing; so gentlemen, I hope you will sup with me thisevening. I am a stranger and know nothing of Paris; at any rate nothingof 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 inall their amusements, entering into them with a gayety and heartinessthat charmed them and caused them to exclaim frequently that he couldnot be an Englishman, and that his accent was but assumed. ArnoldDampierre had been admitted two months later. He had, the master said, distinct talent, but his work was fitful and uncertain. Some days hewould work earnestly and steadily, but more often he was listless andindolent, exciting M. Goudé's wrath to fever heat. 

Among the students he was by no means a favorite. He did not seem tounderstand a joke, and several times blazed out so passionately thatCuthbert had much trouble in soothing matters down, explaining to theangry students that Dampierre was of hot southern blood and that hiswords must not be taken seriously. Americans, he said, especially in thesouth, had no idea of what the English call chaff, and he begged them asa personal favor to abstain from joking with him, or it would only leadto trouble in the studio. 

CHAPTER V. 

There 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, thenthere was a little pause. 

"She is late, " M. Goudé said, with an impatient stamp of the foot. Thewords were scarcely out of his mouth when the door opened and a girlentered. 

"Good-morning, messieurs, " and she made a sweeping courtesy. 

"You are five minutes late, Minette. "

"Ma foi, master, what would you have with the Prussians in sight and allParis in the streets--five minutes mean neither here nor there. Iexpected praise for having come at all. "

"There, there, " the artist said hastily, "run into your closet andchange, we are all waiting. "

She walked across the room to a door in the corner, with an expressionof careless defiance in her face, and reappeared in five minutes in thedress of a Mexican peasant girl attired for a fête. The dress suited heradmirably. She was rather above the middle height, her figure lithe andsupple with exceptionally graceful curves; her head was admirably poisedon her neck. Her hair was very dark, and her complexion Spanish ratherthan French. Her father was from Marseilles and her mother from Arles. 

Minette was considered the best model in Paris, and M. Goudé had themerit of having discovered her. Three years before, when passing througha street inhabited by the poorer class of workmen in Montmartre, he hadseen her leaning carelessly against a doorway. He was struck with theeasy grace of her pose. He walked up the street and then returned. As hedid so he saw her spring out and encounter an older woman, and at onceenter upon a fierce altercation with her. It was carried on with all theaccompaniment of southern gesture and ceased as suddenly as it began;the girl, with a gesture of scorn and contempt turning and walking backto the post she had left with a mien as haughty as that of a Queendismissing an insolent subject. 

"That girl would be worth a fortune as a model, " the artist muttered. "Imust secure her; her action and gesture are superb. " He walked up toher, lifted his broad hat, and said "Mademoiselle, I am an artist. Myname is Goudé. I have an academy for painting, and I need a model. Thework is not hard, it is but to sit or stand for two or three hours of amorning, and the remuneration I should offer would be five francs a dayfor this. Have I your permission to speak to your parents?"

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 Ishall sit without clothes to be stared at by young men? I have heard ofsuch things. Is this what monsieur wishes?"

"Not at all, not at all, " Mr. Goudé said hastily. "Mademoiselle wouldalways be dressed. She would be sometimes a Roman lady, sometimes aSpanish peasant, a Moorish girl, a Breton, or other maiden. You wouldalways 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 wouldhave no difficulty in obtaining similar work among artists of my ownacquaintance. 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 fromwork. You are quite sure that I shall not have to undress at all?"

"I have assured mademoiselle already that nothing of the sort will berequired of her. There are models indeed who pose for figure, but theseare a class apart, and I can assure mademoiselle that her feelings ofdelicacy will be absolutely respected. "

The next day Minette Dufaure appeared at the studio and had ever sincesat for all the female figures required. The air of disdain and defianceshe had first shown soon passed away, and she entered with zest andeagerness upon her work. She delighted in being prettily and becominglydressed. She listened intelligently to the master's descriptions of thecharacters that she was to assume, and delighted him with the readinesswith which she assumed suitable poses, and the steadiness with which shemaintained them. 

There was nothing of the stiffness of the model in her attitudes. Theyhad the charm of being unstudied and natural, and whether as abacchanal, a peasant girl, or a Gaulish amazon, she looked the partequally well; her face was singularly mobile, and although this was aninferior consideration to the master, she never failed to represent theexpression appropriate to the character she assumed. 

Her reputation was soon established among the artists who occasionallydropped into Goudé's studio, and her spare time was fully occupied, andthat at much higher rates of pay than those she earned with him. Afterthe first two or three months she came but twice a week there, as thatamply sufficed for the needs of the studio. On his telling her that heshould no longer require her to come three times a week, as his pupilshad other things to learn besides drawing the female figure, the mastersaid--

"I must pay you higher in future, Minette. I know that my friends arepaying you five francs an hour. "

"A bargain is a bargain, " she said. "You came to me first, and but foryou I should never have earned a penny. Now we have moved into a betterstreet and have comfortable lodgings. We have everything we want, and Iam laying by money fast. You have always treated me well, and I like youthough your temper is even worse than my father's. I shall keep to myagreement as long as you keep to yours, and if you do not I shall notcome here at all. "

With the students Minette was a great favorite. In the pause of fiveminutes every half-hour to allow her to change her position, she chattedand laughed with them with the frankest good temper, more than holdingher own in the sallies of chaff. When they occasionally made excursionsin a body into the country to sketch and paint, she was always of theparty, going in the capacity of comrade instead of that of a model, contributing a full share to the lunch basket, but ready to pose as apeasant girl with a fagot on her head, a gleaner, or a country-womanwith a baby on her lap, according to the scene and requirements. It wasa matter of course that Minette should be present at every supper partyor little fête among the students, always being placed in the seat ofhonor at the head of the table, and joining in all the fun of thosemerry reunions. For a time she treated all alike as comrades, andaccepted no compliments save those so extravagant as to provoke generallaughter. Gradually, however, it came to be understood among thestudents that Minette made an exception in the case of Arnold Dampierre, and that on occasions when they happened to break up in pairs he wasgenerally by her side. 

"One never can tell what women will do, " René Caillard said one evening, when five or six of them were sitting smoking together. "Now, Minettemight have the pick of us. "

"No, no, René, " one of the others protested, "most of us are suitedalready. "

"Well, several of us, then. I am at present unattached, and so areAndré, and Pierre, and Jean; so is Cuthbert. Now, putting us aside, nowoman 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 afancy for Dampierre, and treats all the rest of us, including theEnglishman, as if we were boys. "

"I fancy women like deference, " Pierre Leroux said. "She is a goodcomrade with us all, she laughs and jokes with us as if she were one ofourselves. Now the American very seldom laughs and never jokes. Hetreats 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 atthe moment. 

"Pierre is just saying that he thinks the American is capable ofmarrying Minette. "

"I hope not, " Cuthbert said, more seriously than he generally 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 isvery pretty. As to her grace it needs no saying. I think she is anhonest good girl, but the idea of marrying her would frighten me. We seethe 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 notfeel 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 tongueof flame from a slumbering volcano. You would feel that there might bean eruption that would sweep everything before it. As you know, I gaveup painting her after the first two months, but I sketch her in everypose; not always her whole figure, but her face, and keep the sketchesfor use some day. I was looking through them only yesterday and I saidto myself, 'this woman is capable of anything. ' She might be a Joan ofArc, or Lucraetzia Borghia. She is a puzzle to me altogether. Put her ina quiet, happy home and she might turn out one of the best of women. Lether be thrown into turbulent times and she might become a demon ofmischief. At present she is altogether undeveloped. She is two andtwenty in years, but a child, or rather a piquant, amusing young girl, in manner, and perhaps in disposition. She is an enigma of which Ishould be sorry to have to undertake the solution. As she seems, I likeher immensely, but when I try to fathom what she really is, shefrightens me. "

The others laughed. 

"Poor little Minette, " Pierre Leroux said. "You are too hard upon heraltogether, Cuthbert. The girl is a born actress and would make herfortune on the stage. She can represent, by the instinct of art, passions which she has never felt. She can be simple and majestic, alaughing 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 littlegirl, and the only fault I have to find with her is that she has the badtaste to prefer that gloomy American to me. "

"Well, I hope you are right, Pierre, though I hold my own opinionunchanged--at any rate I sincerely trust that Dampierre will not make afool of himself with her. You men do not like him because you don'tunderstand him. You are gay and light-hearted, you take life as itcomes. You form connections easily and lightly, and break them off againa few months later just as easily. Dampierre takes life earnestly. He isindolent, but that is a matter of race and blood. He would not do adishonorable action to save his life. I believe he is the heir to alarge fortune, and he can, therefore, afford to work at his art in adilettante sort of manner, and not like us poor beggars who look forwardto earning our livelihood by it. He is passionate, I grant, but that isthe effect of his bringing up on a plantation in Louisiana, surroundedby his father's slaves, for though they are now free by law the natureof the negro is unchanged, and servitude is his natural position. Thelittle white master is treated like a god, every whim is humored, andthere being no restraining hand upon him, it would be strange if he didnot become hasty and somewhat arrogant. 

"Not that there is any arrogance about Dampierre--he is unaffected andsimple in his tastes, except in the matter of his lodgings. I questionif there is one of us who spends less than he does, but he no moreunderstands you than you understand him; he takes your badinageseriously, and cannot understand that it is harmless fun. However, he isbetter in that respect than when he first came over, and in time, nodoubt, his touchiness will die out. God forbid that he should ever spoilhis life by such a hideous mistake as marrying Minette. Except on theprinciple that people are always attracted by their opposites, I can'taccount for his infatuation for this girl, or for her taking up withhim. He has never alluded to the subject to me. I don't know that hername has ever been mentioned between us. I agree with you that I thinkhe is in earnest about her, but my conclusion is certainly not formed onanything he has ever said himself. I have often thought that a good dealof his irritability arises from his annoyance at her fun and easy waywith us all. He never comes to any of our little meetings. If he isreally in earnest about her, I can understand that it would be aterrible annoyance to him to see her taking a lead in such meetings andassociating so freely with your, let us say, temporary wives. I haveseen him on some of our sketching excursions walk away, unable tocontain his anger when you have all been laughing and joking with her. "

"I consider that to be an insolence, " René said hotly. 

"No, no, René, imagine yourself five years older, and making a fortunerapidly by your art, in love with some girl whom you hope to make yourwife. 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, ifyou can imagine such a thing, joining heart and soul in the fun of oneof their supper parties. You would not like it, would you?"

"No, " René admitted frankly. "I own I shouldn't. Of course, I cannoteven fancy such a thing occurring, but if it did I can answer for itthat I should not be able to keep my temper. I think now that you put itso, we shall be able to make more allowances for the American infuture. "

To this the others all agreed, and henceforth the tension that had notunfrequently existed between Dampierre and his fellow-students wassensibly relaxed. 

"You were not here last week, Minette, " M. Goudé said, as he went up onto 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 evenif you had I could not have come. Do you think that one could standstill like a statue for hours when great things were being done, whenthe people were getting their liberty again, and the flag of the despotwas being pulled down from the Tuileries. I have blood in my veins, master, not ice. "

"Bah!" M. Goudé exclaimed. "What difference does it make to you, or toanyone as far as I see, whether the taxes are levied in the name of anEmperor or of a Republic? Do you think a Republic is going to feed youany better and reduce your rents, or to permit Belleville and Montmartreto become masters of Paris? In a short time they will grumble at theRepublic 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 haveto pay my taxes--they are necessary--for the army has to be kept up andthe Government paid; beyond that I do not care a puff of my pipe whatGovernment may call itself. "

"You will see what you will see, " said the girl, sententiously. 

"I dare say, Minette, as long as I have eyes I shall do that. Now don'twaste 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 isplaying and that you are keeping time to it with them, and swaying yourbody, rather than moving your feet to the music. "

After two or three changes she struck an attitude that satisfied themaster. 

"That will do, Minette, stand as you are; you cannot improve that. Now, gentlemen, to work. "

She was standing with one foot advanced, as if in the act of springingon to it; one of her arms was held above her head, the other advancedacross her body; her head was thrown back, and her balance perfect. 

Cuthbert looked up from his work, took out a note-book, and rapidlysketched the figure; and then, putting his book into his pocket again, returned to his work, the subject of which was a party of Bretonmobiles, with stacked arms under some trees in the Champs Elysée. He hadtaken the sketch two days before and was now transferring it on tocanvas. 

"I should not be surprised, " he thought to himself, "if the girl isright, and if there is not serious trouble brewing in the slums ofParis. 

"As soon as these fellows find out that they are no better off for thechange, and that a Republic does not mean beer and skittles, or, as theywould like, unlimited absinthe and public workshops, with short hoursand high pay, they will begin to get savage, and then there will betrouble. The worst of it is one can never rely upon the troops, anddiscipline is certainly more relaxed than usual now that the Emperorhas 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 adanger to Paris as the foe without. It was a happy idea of mine to cometo Paris, and I am likely to get subjects enough to last for alife-time, though I don't know that battle scenes are altogether in myline. It does not seem to me that I have any line in particular yet. Itis a nuisance having to decide on that, because I have heard Wilson sayan artist, like a writer, must have a line, and when he has once takenit up he must stick to it. If a man once paints sea pieces the publiclook to get sea pieces from him, and won't take anything else. It is thesame thing if he accustoms them to Eastern, or Spanish, or any otherline. 

"It maybe that this war will decide the matter for me, which will be acomfort and relief, though I doubt if I shall ever be able to stick inone groove. Goudé said only yesterday that I had better go on working atboth figure and landscape. At present he could not give an opinion as towhich I was likely to succeed in best, but that he rather fancied thatscenes of life and action, combined with good backgrounds, were myforte, and battle scenes would certainly seem to come under thatcategory. "

After work was over Cuthbert went out by himself and spent the afternoonin sketching. He was engaged on a group of soldiers listening to one oftheir number reading a bulletin of the latest news, when his eye fell ona young lady walking with a brisk step towards him. He started, thenclosed 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 asshe said, frankly--

"Why, Cuthbert Hartington, this is a curious meeting. I did know youwere in Paris, for I had heard as much from my father, but I had no ideaof your address and I have wondered many times since I came here, fiveweeks ago, whether we should run against each other. No, I have notdropped from the clouds, and you ought to have known I should be here; Itold you that I was going to have a year in Germany and then a year inFrance. My year in Germany was up two months ago. I went home for afortnight, and here I am as a matter of course. "

"I might have known you would carry out your programme exactly as youhad sketched it, but I thought that the disturbed state of things overhere might have induced you to defer that part of the plan until a moreappropriate season. Surely Paris is not just at present a pleasant abodefor a young lady, and is likely to be a much more unpleasant one lateron. "

"I think there could hardly be a more appropriate time for being here, Mr. Hartington; one could have no better time for studying socialproblems than the present when conventionalities have gone to the windsand one sees people as they are; but this is hardly the place to talk. Iam boarding with a family at No. 15 Avenue de Passy. Will you come andsee me there?"

"Certainly I will, if you will allow me. What will be a convenienttime?"

"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 tochat comfortably, which we could not do if you came in the evening, whenthe father is at home and two boys who are away at school during theday. Will you come to-morrow?"

"Yes, my afternoons are free at present. "

She held out her hand and then walked away with a steady business-likestep. Cuthbert stood watching her till she had disappeared in the crowd. 

"She has no more sentiment in her composition at present, " he said tohimself with a laugh that had some bitterness in it, "than a nethermillstone. Her mind is so wrapped up in this confounded fad of hers thatthere 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 awkwardnessshe felt at our sudden meeting. It clearly made no impression at allupon her. She remembers, of course, that she met me at Newquay. I don'tsuppose she has really forgotten that I asked her to be my wife, but itwas a mere incident, and affected her no more than if I had asked her tobuy a picture and she had refused. I wish to goodness I had not met heragain. I had got fairly over it, and was even beginning to wonder how Iever could have wanted to marry anyone so different in every way fromthe sort of woman I fancied I should have fallen in love with. Howfoolish of her coming over to Paris at this time. Well, I daresay it hasall saved a lot of trouble. I suppose at that time Brander would havebeen delighted at the prospect, but it would have been a very differentthing after the failure of the bank. I don't think he would have made apleasant father-in-law under the present circumstances. He is an oldfox. I always thought so, and I think so more than ever now. It has beena queer affair altogether. I wonder what Mary thinks of it all. Isuppose she will talk to me about it to-morrow afternoon. By the way, Ihave to go this evening with René and the others to be sworn in orattested, or whatever they call it, at the Mairie. Their report as tothe officers is satisfactory. I have heard that Longfranc was anexcellent officer before he came into some money, cut the army and tookup art. I have no doubt he will make a good major, and he understandsthe men better than most army men would do. They say the Colonel is agood man, too, and was very popular with his regiment before he retiredfrom the service. "

CHAPTER VI. 

On inquiry of the concierge at No. 15 Avenue de Passy, Cuthbert wasinformed that Madame Michaud lived on the third floor. On ascending andringing the bell the door was opened by an elderly servant. 

"I have called to see Mademoiselle Brander, 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 atonce into a sitting-room. 

It was of the usual type of such room--of good size but bare, withbee's-waxed flooring, plainly frescoed walls, and a ceiling colored grayand bordered with painted arabesques. Two or three small rugs relievedthe bareness of the floor. An oval table on very thin legs stood in themiddle; the chairs and couch seemed to have been made to match it, andhad an eminently bare and uncomfortable appearance; a vase of flowersstood on a spindle-legged little table in front of one of the windowswhich opened down to the ground. Some colored prints in frames ofstained wood hung on the walls, and some skimpy curtains draped thewindows. 

Mary Brander was seated with a writing-pad on her knee at the windowunoccupied by the vase and its support. She put the writing-pad and abook, evidently a large diary, down on the floor. 

"You are punctual to the minute, Mr. Hartington. I should never havecredited you with that virtue. "

"Nor with any other virtue, I imagine, Miss Brander, " he said, with asmile. 

"Oh, yes, I do. I credit you with numbers of them. Now draw that chairup to the window--it is not comfortable, but it is the best of them--andlet us talk. Now, in the first place you don't know how sorry, howdreadfully sorry I have been about what has happened at home. I wasshocked, indeed, at the news of the sudden death of your dear father. Hewas always so kind when he came to see us, and I liked him so much, Ifelt for you deeply. It must have been an awful shock for you. I heardit a few days after I got to Dresden. Then came the other news aboutthat terrible failure and its consequences. It seemed too shockingaltogether that you should have lost the dear old place, but I do thinkI 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 itdid not seem so to me. Did it to you, Cuthbert?" and she looked at himwistfully. 

"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 anybodyelse. I believe I rather liked the thought that as it was not to be myhome it would be yours. "

She shook her head. 

"It does not seem to me to be natural at all, and I was miserable allthe time I was there the other day. "

"Your father respected my wishes in all respects, Mary. I believe hekept on all the old servants who chose to stay. He promised me that hewould 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 samewith the dogs, and that at any time, if I moved into quarters where Icould keep a dog or two, he would send up my two favorites to me. "

"Yes, they are all there. I went out and gave cakes to the dogs andsugar to the horses every day, and talked to them, and I think regularlyhad a cry over them. It was very foolish, but I could not help it. Itdid all seem so wrong and so pitiful. I could not learn much about youfrom father. He said that you had only written once to him on businesssince things were finally settled; but that you had mentioned that youwere going to Paris, and he said, too--" and she hesitated for a moment, "that although you had lost Fairclose and all the property, you hadenough to live upon in a way--a very poor way--but still enough forthat. "

"Not such a very poor way, " he said. "There is no secret about it. I hadfive thousand pounds that had been settled on my mother, and fortunatelythat was not affected by the smash, so I have two hundred a year, whichis amply sufficient for my wants. "

"It is enough, of course, to live upon in a way, Cuthbert, but sodifferent 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 ofcourse I don't spend anything like all of it; but as I said, it is sodifferent with you, who have been accustomed to spend ever so muchmore. "

"I don't find myself in any way pinched. I can assure you my lodgings inthe Quartier Latin are not what you would call sumptuous, but they arecomfortable enough, and they do not stand me in a quarter of what I paidfor my chambers in London. I can dine sumptuously on a franc and a half. Another franc covers my breakfast, which is generally _café au lait_ andtwo eggs; another franc suffices for supper. So you see that mynecessaries of life, including lodgings and fuel, do not come toanything like half my income, and I can spend the rest in riotous livingif 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 I?"

"No, " she said, doubtfully. "I do not see any change in you, but what doyou do with yourself?"

"I paint, " he said. 

"Really!"

"Really and truly, I have become what you wanted me to become, a veryearnest person indeed, and some day people may even take to buying mypictures. "

"I never quite know when you are in earnest, Cuthbert; but if it is trueit is very good news. Do you mean that you are really studying?"

"I am indeed. I work at the studio of one M. Goudé, and if you choose toinquire, you will find he is perhaps the best master in Paris. I amafraid the Prussians are going to interrupt my studies a good deal. Thishas made me angry and I have enlisted--that is to say, been sworn in asa member of the Chasseurs des Écoles, which most of the students atGoudé'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. "Isuppose you are almost Germanized, and regard their war against theFrench 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 saynothing that would hurt the feelings of the people round me, but therecan be no doubt that the French deserve all the misfortunes that havefallen upon them. They would have invaded Germany, and all these pooryoung Germans have been torn away from their friends and families tofight. "

"So have these young Frenchmen. To my mind the war was deliberatelyforced upon France, but I think we had better agree to differ on thissubject. You have been among Germans and it is not unnatural that youshould have accepted their version. I have been living among Frenchmen, and although I do not say that it would not have been much wiser if theyhad avoided falling into the pit dug for them, my sympathies are whollywith them, except in this outburst of folly that has resulted in theestablishment, for a time at any rate, of a Republic. Now, I have nosympathy whatever with Republics, still less for a Republic controlledby political adventurers, and like many Frenchmen I am going to fightfor France, and in no way for the Republic. At any rate let us agree toavoid the subject altogether. We shall never convince each other howevermuch 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 thatwe always see things so differently, Cuthbert. However, we may talkabout your doings without arguing over the cause. Of course you do notsuppose there will be much fighting--a week or two will see the end ofit all. "

"Again we differ, " he said. "I believe that there will be some sharpfighting, 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 lastperson who would take this noisy shouting mob seriously. "

"I don't think anything of the mob one way or the other, " he said. "Idespise them utterly; but the troops and the mobiles are sufficient toman the forts and the walls, and I believe that middle-class corps, likethe one I have entered, will fight manfully; and the history of Parishas shown over and over again that the mob of Paris, fickle, vain-headed, noisy braggadocios as they are, and always have been, canat least starve well. They held out against Henry of Navarre tillnumbers dropped dead in the streets, and until the Spaniards came atlast from the Netherlands and raised the siege, and I believe they willhold out now. They have courage enough, as has been shown over and overagain at the barricades, but they will be useless for fighting becausethey will submit to no discipline. Still, as I said, they can starve, and it will be a long time indeed before the suffering will becomeintense enough to drive them to surrender. I fear that you havealtogether underrated the gravity of the situation, and that you willhave very severe privations to go through before the siege is over. "

"I suppose I can stand it as well as others, " she laughed, "but I thinkyou are altogether wrong. However, if it should come it will be veryinteresting. "

"Very, " he said, shortly, "but I doubt if you will see it quite in thesame 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 eatrats if I can get them. I have heard that the country rat, the fellowthat lives in ricks, is by no means bad eating, but I own to having adoubt as to the Paris rat. "

"It is disgusting to think of such a thing, " she said, indignantly, "theidea is altogether ridiculous. "

"I do not know whether you consider that betting is among the thingsthat woman has as much right to do as man; but if you do, I am ready towager it will come to rats before Paris surrenders. "

"I never made a bet in my life, " she said, "but I will wager five francswith you that there will be nothing of the sort. I do not say that ratsmay not be eaten in the poor quarters. I do not know what they eatthere. I hear they eat horse-flesh, and for anything I know they may eatrats; but I will wager that rats will never be openly sold as an articleof food before Paris surrenders. "

"It is a bet, " he said, "and I will book it at once, " and he gravelytook out a pocket-book and made an entry. "And now, " he said, as hereplaced the book in his pocket, "how do you pass your time?"

"I spend some hours every day at the Bibliothêque. Then I take a walk inthis quarter and all round the Boulevards. One can walk just as freelythere as one could in Germany, but I find that I cannot venture off theminto the poorer quarters; the people stare, and it is not pleasant. "

"I certainly should not recommend you to make experiments that way. Inthe great thoroughfares a lady walking by herself passes unnoticed, especially if she looks English or American. They are coming tounderstand that young women in those countries are permitted an amountof freedom that is shocking to the French mind, but the idea has notpermeated to the lower strata of society. 

"If you are really desirous of investigating the ways of the femalepopulation of the poorer quarters, I shall be happy to escort youwhenever you like, but I do not think you will be altogether gratifiedwith the result of your researches, and I think that you would obtain amuch closer insight into French lower class life by studying Balzac andsome of the modern writers--they are not always savory, but at leastthey are realistic. "

"Balzac is terrible, " she said, "and some of the others I have read alittle of are detestable. I don't think you can be serious in advisingme to read them. "

"I certainly should not advise you to read any of them, Miss Brander, ifyou were a young lady of the ordinary type; but as you take up the causeof woman in general it is distinctly necessary that you should study allthe phases of female life. How else can you grapple with the question?"

"You are laughing at me again, Mr. Hartington, " she said, somewhatindignantly. 

"I can assure you that I am not. If your crusade is in favor only ofgirls of the upper and middle classes, you are touching but the fringeof the subject, for they are outnumbered by twenty to one by those ofother classes, and those in far greater need of higher life than theothers. "

"It seems rather hopeless, " Mary Brander said, despondently, after apause, "one is so unable to influence them. "

"Exactly so. You are setting yourself to move a mountain. When the timecomes there may be an upheaval, and the mountain may move of its ownaccord; but the efforts of a thousand or ten thousand women as earnestas yourself would be no more use in proportion, than those of a colonyof ants working to level the mountain. "

"Don't discourage me, Cuthbert, " she said, pitifully. "I do believe withall my heart in my principles, but I do often feel discouraged. The taskseems to grow larger and more difficult the more I see of it, and I ownthat living a year among German women was rather crushing to me. "

"That I can quite understand, " he said, with a smile, "the averageGerman 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 thepoles are apart. "

"But do not think, " she replied, rallying, "that I am in the leastshaken because I see that the difficulty is greater than I have lookedfor. Your simile of ants is not correct. Great things can be done byindividuals. Voltaire and Rousseau revolutionized French thought fromthe top to the bottom. Why should not a great woman some day rise andexercise as great influence over her sex as these two Frenchmen did? Butdo not let us talk about that any more. I want to hear more about whatyou are doing. I have thought of you so much during the past year--ithas all seemed so strange and so sad. Are you really working hard--Imean steadily and regularly?"

"You evidently think that impossible, " he laughed, "but I can assure youit is true. If you doubt me I will give you Goudé's address, and if youcall upon him and say that you have an interest in me--you can assignany reason you like, say that you are an aunt of mine and intend tomake me your heir--and beg him to inform you frankly of his opinion ofmy work and progress, I feel sure that he will give you an account thatwill satisfy your doubts. "

"I don't think I could do that, " she said, seriously. "There, you arelaughing at me again, " she broke off as she looked up at him. "Of courseI could not do such a thing, but I should very greatly like to knowabout you. "

"I do think, Miss Brander, I am working hard enough and steady enough tosatisfy even you. I did so for six months in England with a fellow namedTerrier. He was just the master I wanted. He had not a shadow ofimagination, but was up in all the technical details of painting, and insix months' hard work I really learnt to paint; previous to that I knewnothing of painting. I could make a colored sketch, but that was all, now I am on the highway to becoming an artist. Goudé will only receivepupils whom he considers likely to do him credit, and on seeing two ofthe things I had done after I had been working with Terrier, he acceptedme at once. He is a splendid master--out and away the best in Paris, andis really a great artist himself. He is a peppery little man and willtolerate no nonsense, and I can assure you that he is well satisfiedwith me. I am going to set to work to do a couple of pictures on my ownaccount for next year's Salon. I should have waited another year beforetrying my wings, if he had not encouraged me to venture at once, and ashe is very much opposed to his pupils painting for exhibition until theyare sufficiently advanced to begin with a success, it is proof that hehas at least some hopes of me. "

"I am glad indeed, Cuthbert. I shan't be quite so sorry now as I havebeen about your losing Fairclose. It is so much nobler to work than itis to fritter away a life doing nothing. How tiresome it is, " she said, "that you have taken this unfortunate idea in your head of joining aFrench corps. It will unsettle you altogether. "

"Really, " he broke in with a laugh, "I must protest against beingconsidered so weak and unstable. You had a perfect right in thinking melazy, but I don't think you have any right in considering me a reed tobe shaken by every passing wind. I can assure you that I am very fixedin my resolves. I was content to be lazy before simply because there wasno particular reason for my being otherwise, and I admit thatconstitutionally I may incline that way; but when a cataclysm occurred, and, as I may say, the foundations were shaken, it became necessary forme 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 toldby a young lady he is a useless idler, who does but cumber the earth, itwakes him up a little. "

"I am sure I didn't say that, " Mary said, indignantly, but with a hotflush on her cheeks. 

"Not in those precise words, but you spoke to that effect, and myconscience told me you were not far wrong in your opinion. I had begunto meditate whether I ought not to turn over a new leaf when I came insuddenly for Fairclose; that of course seemed to knock it all on thehead. Then came what we may call the smash. This was so manifestly aninterposition of Providence in the direction of my bestirring myselfthat I took the heroic resolution to work. "

Mary felt that it was desirable to avoid continuing the subject. She hadlong since come to regard that interview in the garden as a sort oftemporary aberration on his part, and that although, perhaps, sincere atthe moment, he had very speedily come to laugh at his own folly, and hadrecognized that the idea was altogether ridiculous. Upon her it had madeso 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 asthe lad she had known as a child, rather than as the man who had, undera passing impulse, asked her to marry him. 

"I think, " she said suddenly, "I will fetch Madame Michaud in. It willbe nice for you to come here in the evening sometimes, and it would bebetter for her to ask you to do so than for me. These French people havesuch funny ideas. "

"It would certainly be more pleasant, " he agreed, "and evening will bethe time that I have most leisure--that is to say, when we do not happento be on duty, as to which I am very vague at present. They say thesailors will garrison the forts and the army take the outpost duty; butI fancy, when the Germans really surround us, it will be necessary tokeep so strong a force outside the walls, that they will have to callout some of us in addition. The arrangement at present is, we are todrill in the morning and we shall paint in the afternoon; so the eveningwill 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 inthe 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 eachother's rooms to chatter and smoke. Then, occasionally, I drop into thetheatre. It is very much like the life I had in London, only a good dealmore lively and amusing, and with a great deal less luxury and a verymuch smaller expenditure; and--this is very serious I can assureyou--very much worse tobacco. "

The girl laughed merrily. 

"What will you do about smoking when you are reduced to the extremityyou prophesy?"

"That point is, I confess, troubling me seriously. I look forward withvery much greater dread to the prospect of having to smoke dried leavesand the sweepings of tobacco warehouses, than I do to the eating ofrats. I have been making inquiries of all sorts as to the state of thestock of tobacco, and I intend this evening to invest five pounds inlaying in a store; and mean to take up a plank and hide it under thefloor, 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 anoffence of the gravest character for any one to have a private store ofany necessary. If you have any special weaknesses, such as chocolate ortea, or anything of that sort, I should advise you not to lose a momentin laying in a good stock. You will see in another week, when peoplebegin to recognize generally what a siege means, that everythingeatable will double in price, and in a month only millionaires will beable 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 quiteserious, I can assure you. Unfortunately, you have no place for keepinga sheep or two, or a bullock; and bread, at the end of a couple ofmonths, could scarcely be eaten; but, really, I should advise you toinvest in a dozen of those big square boxes of biscuits, and a ham ortwo may come in as a welcome addition some day. "

Mary laughed incredulously, but she was much more inclined than beforeto look at matters seriously, when, on fetching Madame Michaud in, thatlady, in the course of conversation, mentioned that her husband had thatmorning bought three sacks of flour and a hundred tins of preservedmeats. 

"He is going to get some boxes, " she said, "and to have the flouremptied into them, then the baker will bring them round in a cart, sothat no one will guess it is flour. He says it is likely that there willbe an order issued that everything of that sort is to be given into apublic store for general distribution, so it must be brought herequietly. He tells me that every one he knows is doing the same thing. Myservant 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 caskin 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 asnever were heard of before. Of course, in a month or two the countrywill come to our rescue and destroy the Prussians, but till then we havegot to live. Already eggs are fetching four times as much as they didlast 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 onrelief 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 enoughevery house will be searched, and you cannot hide your things toocarefully. "

"But why should they insist on everything being put in publicmagazines?" Mary asked. "It will not go further that way than if peoplekeep their own stocks and eat them. "

"It will be necessary, if for nothing else, to prevent rioting when thepinch comes, and people are starving in the poorer quarters. You may besure if they have a suspicion that the middle and upper classes havefood concealed in their houses, they will break in and sack them. Thatwould only be human nature, and therefore in the interest of order alonea decree forbidding anyone to have private stores would have to bepassed; besides it would make the food go much further, for you may besure that everything will be doled out in the smallest quantitiessufficient to keep life together, and before the end of the siege comeseach person may only get two or three ounces of bread a day. "

Madame Michaud nodded as if prepared to be reduced even to thatextremity. 

"You are right, monsieur, I am going to get stuff and to make a greatnumber of small bags to hold the flour; then we shall hide it away underthe boards in many places, so that if they find some they may not findit all. "

"The idea is a good one, madame, but it has its disadvantages. If theyfind one parcel they will search so closely everywhere that they willfind the rest. For that reason one good hiding-place, if you couldinvent one, would be better than many. "

"One does not know what is best to do, " Madame Michaud said, with agesture of tragic despair. "Who could have thought that such a thingcould happen to Paris!"

"It is unexpected, certainly, " Cuthbert agreed, "but it has beenforeseen, otherwise they would never have taken the trouble to buildthis circle of forts round Paris. They are useful now not only inprotecting the city but in covering a wide area, where the cattle andsheep may feed under the protection of the guns. I don't think we areas likely to be as badly off for meat as for bread, for after the flocksand herds are all eaten up there are the horses, and of these there mustbe tens of thousands in Paris. "

"That is a comfort, certainly, " the Frenchwoman said, calmly, while MaryBrander made a little gesture of disgust. 

"I have never tried horseflesh myself, at least that I know of, but theysay it is not so bad; but I cannot think that they will have to kill thehorses for food. The country will not wait until we are reduced to thatextremity. "

"Mr. Hartington has joined one of the regiments of volunteers, MadameMichaud. "

"That is good of you, monsieur; my husband is in the National Guard, andthey say every one will have to take up a musket; but as you are aforeigner, of course this would not apply to you. "

"Well, for the time being I consider myself a Parisian, and as a Germanshell is just as likely to fall on the roof of the house where I live ason any other, I consider myself to be perfectly justified in doing mybest 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 husbandpleasure to meet an English gentleman who is voluntarily going to fightin the cause of France. "

"Thank you, madame. I shall be very glad to do so. Mademoiselle's fatheris a very old friend of our family, and I have known her ever since shewas a little child. It will be pleasant to me to make the acquaintanceof monsieur. And now, Miss Brander, I must be going. "

CHAPTER VII. 

As he sauntered back into the city, Cuthbert met an English residentwith whom he had some slight acquaintance. 

"So you are not among the great army of deserters, Mr. Phipson?"

"No, I thought it better to stay here and see it out. If the Germanscome in I shall hang out the English flag and I have no doubt that itwill be all right. If I go away the chances are that I should find theplace 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. MyEnglish customers and friends, if they come to the little door in theArcade, and give two knocks, and then three little ones with theirknuckles on the door, will find it open, and can be served as long asthere is any liquor left; but for the last three days I have beenclearing out nearly all my stock. The demand has been tremendous, and Iwas glad enough to get rid of it, for even if the place isn't looted bythe mob all the liquors might be seized by the authorities andconfiscated for public use. I shall be glad when the doors are closed, Ican tell you, for these people are enough to make one sick. The way theytalk and brag sets my fingers itching, and I want to ask them to stepinto the back room, take off their coats, those uniforms they are soproud of, and stand up for a friendly round or two just to try what theyare made of. 

"I reckon if a chap can't take one on the nose and come up smiling, hewould not be worth much when he has to stand up against the Prussians. Ithought I understood them pretty well after having been coachman herefor over twenty years, but I see now that I was wrong altogether. Ofcourse I knew they were beggars to talk, but I always thought that therewas something in it, and that if it came to fighting they would show uppretty well; but to hear them going on now as to what France will do anddoing nothing themselves, gives one a sickener. Then the way as theyblackguard the Emperor, who wasn't by any means a bad chap, puts mymonkey up I can tell you. Why there is not one in fifty of them as isfit to black his boots. He had a good taste in horses too, he had; andwhen I hear them going on, it is as much as I can do not to slip in tothem. 

"That is one reason why I am stopping. A week ago I had pretty well madeup my mind that I would go, but they made me so mad that I says tomyself, I will stop and see it out, if it is only for the pleasure ofseeing these fellows get the licking they deserve. I was out yesterdayevening. There was every café crowded; there was the singing-placesfuller than I ever saw them; there were drunken soldiers, who ought tohave been with their regiments outside the walls, reeling about thestreets. Any one as seed the place would have put it down that it was agreat fête-day. As to the Prussians outside no one seemed to give them athought. If you went from table to table you heard everyone saying thatthe Germans would be destroyed, and that every one who talked of peacenow was a traitor. "

"I quite agree with you, " Cuthbert said, "they are most extraordinarypeople. Still I do think they will fight. "

"Well, sir, I don't know whether you have heard the news that they havebeen licked this morning somewhere out near Clamart. I heard just nowthat a lot of the linesmen bolted and never stopped running till theygot into Paris, but they say the Breton mobiles fought well, though theyhad to fall back at last. "

"The troops are disorganized at present, " Cuthbert said; "but when yousee what a tremendous thrashing they have had it is hardly to beexpected that they should fight with any confidence, but when disciplineis restored and they have had a few skirmishes they will be differentmen 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 saybetter soldiers than the linesmen; but I am afraid they will never makeanything out of the National Guard. The only way to do so will be toestablish big camps outside the walls and send them all out there andput strict army men in command, with a regiment of regulars in each campto carry out their orders. It would be necessary, no doubt, to shoot afew hundred of them before anything like discipline could beestablished; and once a week the whole should be sent out to attack theGermans so as to teach them to be steady under fire. In that way theymight be turned into decent soldiers. "

"Lord bless you, sir, Government would never try that. There would bebarricades in the streets in no time, and as the soldiers are alloutside 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 makesoldiers of them. "

"Well, sir, you will know where to come when things get bad. I don'texpect there will be any beer to be had, but I have been down with myson Bob into the cellar for the last four nights. I could not trust theFrench waiters, and we dug holes and have buried a couple of dozen kegsof my best spirits, so if they make a clear sweep of the rest I reckonwe shall be able to keep that door open a goodish while. "

"I shan'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 gotan idea in their heads that we ought to have declared war against theGermans on their behalf; why, Heaven knows, but you may be sure that allthe English places will be very strictly searched. "

"Yes, I reckon on that, and we have got them twelve feet deep. It willbe a job to get them out as we want them, but there won't be anythingelse to do and it will keep us in health. "

Cuthbert had asked all the students to come in and smoke a pipe thatevening 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, " hesaid, "because I don't think it is decent to be feasting in a public ata time like this. I expect it is about the last time we shall haveanything like a supper. Things will be altogether beyond the reach ofour purses in another week. Besides, I hope we shall be outside beforelong. "

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 yourpeople entered on their struggle, Dampierre. "

"No, we meant it; the struggle with us was to get to the front. Why, doyou know, I heard two or three of the National Guard grumbling in thehighest state of indignation, and why, do you think? Because they had tosleep in the open air last night. Are these the men to defend a city?There will be trouble before long, Cuthbert. The workmen will not standit; they have no faith in the Government nor in Trochu, nor in any one. "

"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 proportionare knaves besides. They read those foul pamphlets and gloat over theabuse of every decently dressed person. They rave against the Prussians, but it is the Bourgeois they hate. They talk of fighting, while whatthey want is to sack and plunder. "

"Nothing of the kind, " the American said, hotly. "They want honesty andpurity, and public spirit. They see vice more rampant than it was in thedays of the Empire. They see the Bourgeois shirking their duty. They seelicense and extravagance everywhere. "

"It is a pity they don't look at home, " Cuthbert laughedgood-temperedly. "I have not yet learnt that either purity or honesty, or a sense of duty are conspicuous at Montmartre or Belleville. There isjust as much empty vaporing there as there is down the Boulevards. As tocourage, they may have a chance presently of showing whether they havemore of it than the better class. Personally, I should doubt it. " Thenhe added more seriously, "My dear Dampierre, I can of course guess whereyou have learnt all this. I know that Minette's father is one of thefirebrands of his quarter, and that since she has been earning an incomehere he has never done a stroke of work, but has taken up the professionof politician. I am not doubting his sincerity. He may be for aught Iknow perfectly in earnest, but it is his capacity I doubt. Theseuneducated men are able to see but one side of the question, and that istheir own. 

"I am not at all blind to the danger. I believe it is possible that weare going to have another red revolution. Your men at Belleville andMontmartre are capable of repeating the worst and most terrible featuresof that most awful time, but you know what came of it and how it ended. Even now some of these blackguard prints are clamoring for one man totake the supreme control of everything. So far there are no signs ofthat coming man, but doubtless, in time, another Bonaparte may come tothe front and crush down disorder with an iron heel; but that will notbe until the need for a saviour of society is evident to all. I hope, mydear fellow, you will not be carried away with these visionary ideas. Ican, of course, understand your predilections for a Republic, butbetween your Republic and the Commune, for which the organs of the mobare already clamoring, there is no shadow of resemblance. They are bothfounded, it is true, on the will of the majority, but in the States itis the majority of an educated and distinctly law-abiding people--hereit is the majority of men who would set the law at defiance, who desirepower simply for the purposes of spoliation. "

Dampierre would have replied angrily, but at this moment the door openedand two or three of the other students entered. 

"Have you heard about that affair at Clamart, " they demanded eagerly. "They say the line behaved shamefully, and that Trochu declares theyshall be decimated. "

"You 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 humor, and at any rateuntil discipline is fully restored it would be too dangerous a task toventure on punishing cowardice. It is unfortunate certainly, but thingswill get better in time. You can hardly expect to make the fugitives ofa beaten army into heroes all at once. I have not the least doubt thatif the Germans made an attack in full force they would meet with veryslight resistance; but they won't do that. They will go to work in aregular and steady way. They will erect batteries, commanding every roadout of the town, and will then sit down and starve us out, hastening theprocess, perhaps, by a bombardment. But all that will take time. Therewill be frequent fighting at the outposts, and if Trochu and the rest ofthem make the most of the material they have at hand, poor as much of itis, they will be able to turn out an army that should be strong enoughto throw itself upon any point in the German line and break its wayout; but it must be an army of soldiers, not a force composed ofdisheartened fugitives and half-drilled citizens. "

"The National Guard are drilling earnestly, " René Caillard said. "I havebeen watching them this afternoon, they really made a very good show. "

"The father of a family with a comfortable home and a prosperousbusiness can drill as well as the most careless vaurien, René; better, perhaps, for he will take much greater pains; but when it comes tofighting, half a dozen reckless daredevils are worth a hundred of him. Ithink if I had been Trochu I would have issued an order that everyunmarried man in Paris between the ages of sixteen and forty-five shouldbe organized into, you might call it, the active National Guard forcontinual service outside the walls, while the married men should bereserved for defending the _enceinte_ at the last extremity. The outsideforce might be but a third of the whole, but they would be worth as muchas the whole force together. That is why I think that our corps maydistinguish itself. We have none of us wives or families and nothingmuch to lose, consequently we shall fight well. We shan't mind hardshipsfor we have not been accustomed to luxuries. We are fighting asvolunteers and not because the law calls us under arms. 

"We are educated and have got too much self-respect to bolt likerabbits. 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. Thereis one thing you must do, and that is preserve good discipline. There isno discipline at all in the National Guard. I saw a party of themyesterday drilling, and two or three of them quietly marched out of theranks and remonstrated on terms of the most perfect equality, with theircolonel as to an order he had given. The maxim of the Republic may dofor civil life, though I have not a shadow of belief either in equalityor fraternity; nor have I in liberty when liberty means license; whetherthat 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 acomplete 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 outthe order, whatever it might be, to the best of my power. And now Ipropose that for this evening we avoid the subject of the siegealtogether. In future, engaged as we are likely to be, we shall hardlybe able to avoid it, and moreover the bareness of the table and theemptiness of the wine-cups will be a forcible reminder that it will beimpossible to escape it. Did you show Goudé your sketch for your picturefor the Salon, René?"

"I did, after you had all gone, and I have not got over the interviewyet. His remarks on the design, conception, and the drawing were equallyclear 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 mistakenmy avocation, and that if the Germans knocked me on the head it would beno loss either to myself or to society in general. It is true that afterhe had finished he cooled down a bit and made a number of suggestionsfrom which I gathered that if the whole thing were altered, my idea ofthe background altogether changed, the figures differently posed, theeffect of light and shade diametrically reversed, and a few othertrifling alterations made, the thing might possibly be hung on the topline. Ma foi, I feel altogether crushed, for I had really flatteredmyself that the sketch was not altogether without merit. "

When the laugh had subsided Cuthbert said--

"Courage, René, Goudé's bark is always worse than his bite, and I haveno doubt he will take a much more favorable view of it as you get on. "

"It is all very well for you to say so, " René said, ruefully. "You are aspoiled child, Goudé has never a word of reproof for you. "

"Probably because he knows very well that I shall not break my heartover it. We must hold a committee of inspection on your work to-morrow;none of us have seen your design yet, and we may be able between us tomake some useful suggestion. "

"No, no, " René exclaimed. "Heaven protect me from that. Do you come, Cuthbert; none of us mind what you say about our pictures. Yourcriticisms do not hurt. One would no more think of being angry with youfor using your knife than with a surgeon for performing an operation. "

"Very well, René, I will come round early. I have no doubt your sketchis a very good one on the whole, and after a few little changes it willsatisfy even Goudé. By the way, have you heard we are to elect ourcompany officers to-morrow?"

"Will you stand? I am sure you would have all our votes--that istwenty-five to start with, and as we know most of the fellows in thecompany we certainly could secure all those who have not any candidatethey want to run; besides, there are, of course, to be three officers, so we should be able to traffic votes. "

"No officering for me, " Cuthbert laughed. "In the first place I have nogreater qualifications for the post than anyone else, and in the secondplace, I am English, and though I might be elected--thanks to yourvotes--I should never be liked or trusted; besides, I have not a shadowof ambition that way. I am going to fight if necessary. I shall have mynote-book in my pocket, and I have no doubt that when we are lyingwaiting for our turn to come, I shall have lots of opportunities forjotting down little bits that will work into the great battle picturewhich is to have the place of honor some day in the Salon. I think itwill certainly be pleasant to have one of our own number among theofficers, and I propose that each of us puts down on a slip of paper thename of the man he thinks will make the best leader and throw it into ahat; then, whoever gets the most votes, we will all support, and, asyou say, by a little traffic in the votes, we ought to be able to gethim in among the three. "

"Are you absolutely determined not to stand?"

"Absolutely and positively. So please do not any of you put my namedown, two or three votes thrown away like that might alter thedecision. "

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 oneis to vote for himself. I don't mind telling you who I am going to votefor. It is Henri Vancour. This is a matter in which it should be noquestion of personal liking. We should choose the man who appears to usbest fitted for the post. "

The name came as a surprise upon the others, for Henri was one of thelast whom it would have occurred to them to choose. Pencils were alreadyin their hands and they were on the point of writing when he spoke, andalmost all would have given their votes either for René Caillard orPierre Leroux, who were the two most popular men among the party. Therewas 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 theyacknowledged to themselves that there was a good deal to be said in hisfavor. He was a Norman--quiet, hard-working, and even-tempered. Hisvoice was seldom heard in the chorus of jokes and laughter, but whenasked for an opinion he gave it at once concisely and decidedly. He wasof medium height and squarely built. His face was cast in a rough mouldand an expression of resolution and earnestness was predominant. He hadnever joined either in the invective against the Emperor, or in theconfident anticipations of glorious successes over the Germans. 

He listened but said nothing, and when questioned would reply, "Let ussee some one do better than the Emperor before we condemn him. We willhope for the best, but so far predictions have been so wrong that itwould be better to wait and see before we blow our trumpets. " He hadbut little genius, this young Norman, but he had perseverance and power. 

M. Goudé scolded him less than others with far greater talent, and hadonce said, "you will never be a great painter, Henri. I doubt if youwill ever be in the first line, but you will take a good place in thesecond. You will turn out your pictures regularly and the work willalways be good and solid. You may not win any great prizes, but yourwork will be esteemed, and in the end you will score as heavily as someof those who possess real genius. "

Yes, Henri was, they all felt, now they thought it over, one they couldrely upon. He would not lose his head, he would be calm in danger, as hewas calm at all other times, and he certainly would show no lack ofcourage. Accordingly when the papers were opened he was found to havereceived a considerable majority of the votes. 

"Thank you for choosing me, comrades, " he said, quietly. "I can only saythat if elected I will do my best. A man can't say more than that. Whyyou should have fixed upon me I cannot think, but that is your business. I think I can promise at any rate that I won't run away. "

When the Franc-tireurs des Écoles assembled the next morning, half anhour was given for consultation; then the vote was taken, and HenriVancour was declared elected first Lieutenant of the company composedentirely of the art students, the Captain being François des Valles, whobelonged 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 company fell in. "There is no fear of his leaving us when under fire; his failing, if hehas one, will be that he may want to keep us there too long. It is quiteas necessary when you are fighting by the side of fellows who are not tobe 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 decided upon atthe first meeting held to settle the constitution of the corps, and aquiet gray had been chosen which looked neat and workmanlike by theside of many of the picturesque but inappropriate costumes, selected bythe majority of the Franc-tireurs. They had already had three days'drill and had learned to form from line into column and from column intoline, to advance as skirmishers and to rally on the centres of thecompanies. They now marched out through the gates and were first taughtto load the chassepots which had been bought by a general subscriptionin the schools, and then spent the morning in practising, andskirmishing, and advancing and retreating in alternate files. 

When they were formed up again the old colonel said, "You are getting onwell, men. Two more mornings' work and we will go out and complete ourlessons in the face of the enemy. "

When dismissed at the end of the third day, they were told to bring nextmorning, the gray greatcoats and blankets that formed part of theiruniform. "Let each man bring with him three days' provisions in hisbag, " the colonel said, "ammunition will be served out to you and youwill soon learn how to use it to advantage. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

M. Goudé grumbled much when he heard that his whole class were going tobe absent for three days. 

"A nice interruption to study, " he said, "however, you were none of youdoing yourselves any good, and you may as well be out in the fields ashanging about the streets gossiping. We can always talk, but during thepast six weeks Paris has done nothing but talk. Don't come back with anyof your number short. You have all got something in you and are too goodfor food for Prussian powder. "

Cuthbert went that evening to the Michauds, in his uniform, not for thepurpose of showing it off, but because men in plain clothes, especiallyif of fair complexions, were constantly stopped and accused of beingGerman spies, were often ill-treated, and not unfrequently had to pass anight in the cells before they could prove their identity. Mary gave anexclamation of surprise at seeing him so attired, but made no remarkuntil after chatting for half an hour with the Michauds. The husbandpresently made the excuse that he had to attend a meeting and went off, 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 foolishpeople. The more I see of them the more I get tired of their bombast andtheir empty talk. Every man expects everyone else to do something and noone does anything. "

"They have had nothing to stir them into action yet, " he said, "only theregulars and the moblots go outside the wall, and the National Guard arepractically useless until the Germans make an assault. Besides, threeparts of them are married men with families, and nothing short of theirhomes being in danger will stir them up to risk their lives. We aregoing out for three days to the outposts, we fall in at five o'clockto-morrow morning. "

"You are going to risk your life, " she said, indignantly, "for theParisians, who have no idea whatever of risking theirs. I call itmadness. "

"You are going against your own doctrines, Miss Brander. Before you wereindignant 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 asindignant 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 workfor work's sake, although as it seemed then there was no occasion for meto work. "

"If it had been on the other side I should not have minded. "

"Just so, " he smiled. "You have become Germanized, I have not. Myfriends here have all enlisted; I am going with them partly because theyare my friends and partly because it is evident the Germans might havewell stopped this war before now, but they demand terms that France cannever submit to as long as there is the faintest hope of success. Youneed not be at all anxious about me. We are not going to attack thePrussian positions I can assure you. We are only going out to do alittle outpost duty, to learn to hear the bullets flying withoutducking, and to fire our rifles without shutting our eyes. I don'tsuppose there are five men in the three companies who have ever fired arifle in their lives. 

"You see the Franc-tireurs are to a great extent independent of themilitary authorities--if you can call men military authorities whoexercise next to no authority over their soldiers. The Franc-tireurscome and go as they choose, and a good many of them wear the uniformonly as a means of escape from serving, and as a whole they are next touseless. I think our corps will do better things. We are all students ofart, law or physic, and a good deal like such volunteer corps as theartists or 'Inns of Court. ' Some of the younger professors are in theranks, and at least we are all of average intelligence and education, soI fancy we shall fight if we get a chance. I don't mean now, but lateron when we have gained confidence in ourselves and in our rifles. Justat present the Parisians are disposed to look upon the Germans asbogies, but this will wear off, and as discipline is recovered by theline, and the mobiles grow into soldiers, you will see that things willbe very different; and although I don't indulge in any vain fancy thatwe are going to defeat the German army, I do think that we shall bearourselves 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 animpossible one. You must not take the vaporings and bombast of the ParisBourgeois or the ranting of Blanqui and the Belleville roughs as thevoice of France. The Germans thought that they were going to take Parisin three days. I doubt if they will take it in three months. If we hadprovisions I should say they would not take it in treble that time. Theycertainly would not do it without making regular approaches, and beforethey can do that they have to capture some of the forts. These, as youknow, are manned by 10, 000 sailors, hardy marines and Bretons, welldisciplined and untainted by the politics which are the curse of thiscountry. Well, I must be going. I have to purchase my three days' storeof provisions on my way back to my lodgings and shall have to turn outearly. "

"Don't do anything rash, " she said, earnestly. 

"I can assure you rashness is not in my line at all, and I don't supposewe shall ever get within five hundred yards of a Prussian soldier. Youneed not be in the least uneasy, even supposing that you were inclinedto fidget about me?"

"Of course, I should fidget about you, " she said, indignantly. "Afterknowing you ever since I was a little child, naturally I should be verysorry if anything happened to you. "

"By the way, " he said, without pursuing the subject farther, "I hearthat there is a movement on foot for forming a corps of women. If theyshould do so it will afford you another illustration of the equality ofyour sex to ours in all matters, and I will go so far as to admit that Iwould much rather lead a company of the market-women than one composedof these Parisian shopkeepers. "

"Don't, Mr. Hartington, " she said, appealingly, "I don't feel equal tofighting now. "

"Then we won't fight. Good-bye! If we are not lucky enough to light uponsome empty cottages to sleep in I fancy the gloss will be taken out ofthis 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 verysilly of him and very wrong mixing up in a quarrel that does not concernhim, especially when there are tens of thousands here in Paris who, instead of fighting for their country, are content to sit all day incafés and talk. "

"They will fight when the time comes, " Madame Michaud said, complacently. "They will fight like heroes. The Prussians will learnwhat Frenchmen are capable of doing. "

But Mary had no patience just at present to listen to this sort ofthing, 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 drewthe lamp nearer and resumed her knitting, "here are a young woman and ayoung man who are more like comrades than lovers. She was angry, moreangry than I thought she could be, for she is generally good-tempered, when I asked her, the first time he came, if they were _affiancés_, 'Weare old friends, madame, ' she said, 'and nothing but friends. Cannot agirl have a man as a friend without there being any thought of love? InEngland people are friends, they can talk and laugh to each otherwithout any silly ideas of this sort occurring to them. This is one ofthe things that keeps woman back in the scale, this supposition that sheis always thinking of love. ' I did not believe her then, but I havelistened to-night when they thought I was asleep, and I even peeped outtwo or three times between my eyelids. I could not understand a word ofwhat they said, but one can tell things by the tone withoutunderstanding the words. There was no love-making. She scolded him andhe laughed. He sat carelessly in his chair, and did not move an inchnearer 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 peepedout when he shook hands with her. He did not hold her hand a moment, hejust shook it. They are strange people, these English. It would be wrongfor a French girl thus to talk to a young man, but I suppose it isdifferent with them. Who can understand these strange islanders? Why, ifLucien were going out to fight I should dissolve in tears, I shouldembrace him and hang on his neck; I might even have hysterics, though Ihave never had them in my life. She is a good girl, too, though she hassuch strange ideas about women. What can she want for them? I manage thehouse and Lucien goes to his office. If I say a thing is to be done inthe house it is done. I call that equality. I cannot tell what she isaiming at. At times it seems to me that she is even more mad than hercompatriots, and yet on other subjects she talks with good sense. Whather father and mother can be about to let her be living abroad byherself is more than I can think. They must be even more mad than sheis. "

Work at M. Goudé's school went on steadily during the intervals betweenthe turns of the Franc-tireurs des Écoles going out beyond the walls. Indeed M. Goudé acknowledged that the work was better than usual. Certainly the studio was never merrier or more full of life. So far fromthe active exercise and the rough work entailed by the constantvigilance necessary during the long night-watches, diminishing theinterest of the young fellows in their work in the studio, it seemed toinvigorate them, and they painted as if inflamed with the determinationto 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 responsibility. Their timewhen away from the studio had previously been spent in follies andfrivolities. They often drank much more than was good for them, smokedinordinately, were up half the night, and came in the morning to workwith heavy heads and nerveless hands. Now they were soldiers, men whomatched themselves against the invaders of their country, who riskedtheir lives in her defence, and they bore themselves more erectly, atone of earnestness replaced a languid indifference and a carelessnessas to their work, and in spite of some privations in the way of foodtheir figures seemed to expand. 

The loss of two nights' sleep a week rendered early hours necessary, andensured sound sleep during the remaining five. The discipline of thestudio had been relaxed. The master felt that at such a time he couldnot expect the same silent concentration on work that it demanded atother times, but he found to his surprise that while they laughed andjoked as they painted, they worked none the worse for this, and that infact there was a general improvement manifest. 

Cuthbert heartily enjoyed the change; the prevailing tone was more likethat to which he was accustomed at the studios of St. John's Wood thanwas the somewhat strict discipline that had before prevailed in thestudio, and he enjoyed the hard work and excitement outside the walls. The fact that they were running the same risks and sharing in the samework was an added bond of union among the students; and, although, whenthey met, as they very frequently did in each other's lodgings, therewas 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 thefield he evinced no want of spirit, and upon the contrary was alwaysready to volunteer when a few men were required to crawl forward atnight to ascertain the precise position of the Prussian outposts or toendeavor to find out the meaning of any stir or movement that might beheard towards their front. At other times his fits of moodiness seemedto increase. He was seldom present at any of the gatherings of hiscompanions, but went off after work at the studio was over, and it wasgenerally late at night before he returned to his rooms. 

Cuthbert felt that the American avoided all opportunities ofconversation with him alone. He replied cordially enough to his greetingwhen they met, but they no longer dropped in to smoke a pipe in eachother's apartments as they formerly had done. Cuthbert had no greatdifficulty in guessing at the reasons for this change in theirrelations. He himself when he first noticed that Arnold was taking thefirst place with Minette had spoken to him half-jestingly, half-seriously, on the subject. He had never made any secret of his owndistrust of the model, and in the early days of their intercourse hadspoken freely to Arnold on the subject. He could understand that if theAmerican, as it appeared, had become really attached to her, he wouldshrink from the risk of any expostulations on the course he had adopted. 

Cuthbert believed that his comrade was at present in a state ofindecision, and that, although deeply in love, he had not as yet beenable to bring himself to the idea of taking Minette back as his wife tohis home in Louisiana. 

"It would be sheer madness, " he said to himself, "and yet I have nodoubt it will end in his doing so, but as he must know it is a piece ofstupendous folly, I can understand his reluctance to risk my speaking tohim on the subject. I am awfully sorry for him, but I know it is one ofthose cases in which, now that it has gone as far as it has, it would beworse than useless to try to interfere, and would only make him morebent upon going through with it. I don't see that one can do anythingbut trust to the chapter of accidents. Minette, dazzled as she might beby the prospect of marrying a gentleman and a man of property, mightstill hesitate to do so if it would entail her having to leave Paris andlive abroad. 

"I have no doubt that she is very fond of Dampierre, but she may changeher mind. He may be killed before this business is over. He may decideto return to America directly the siege ends, with the idea of comingover to fetch her afterwards, and either he may get over hisinfatuation, or on his return may find that some one else has supplantedhim in her affections. I should not fancy that constancy would be one ofher strong points; at any rate I do not see that I can do any good bymeddling in the matter, though if Dampierre spoke to me about it, Ishould certainly express my opinion frankly. It is much the best thatthings should go on between us as they are now doing. He is a hot-headedbeggar, and the probabilities are strong in the favor of our having aserious quarrel if the subject were ever broached between us. "

One evening Cuthbert had taken up a book after his return from thestudio, and sat reading until it was long past his usual dinner hourbefore he went out. He passed through several badly lighted streets onhis way to the restaurant in the Palais Royal, where he intended todine. There were but few people about, for the evening was wet. He wasvaguely conscious that some one was going in the same direction ashimself, for he heard footsteps following him a short distance behind. In one of the worst lighted and most silent streets the steps suddenlyquickened. Cuthbert turned sharply round. He was but just in time, for aman who had been following him was on the point of springing upon himwith uplifted arm. 

Cuthbert felt rather than saw that there was a knife in his hand, andstruck straight from the shoulder at his face; the fellow was in the actof 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 forattempted murder, " he said, "but it would give me no end of bother. Itwould not be worth the trouble, and he has been pretty well punished. Ihave cut my knuckles, and I imagine that when he comes to be will findhimself minus some of his teeth. I wonder what his object was robbery, Isuppose and yet it is hardly likely that the fellow would have singledme out and decided to kill me on the off chance of finding somethingworth taking. He could not have seen that I have a watch on, for mygreatcoat is buttoned. It is more like an act of private revenge, but Ihave never given anyone of that class any reason to dislike me. Cartainly the man followed me for some distance, for I have heard thesteps behind me ever since I turned off into these quiet streets. 

"By the way, " he exclaimed, suddenly, "I should not be at all surprisedif he took me for Dampierre. We are about the same height, and althoughI am a good many inches wider than he is, that might not be noticed inthe dark. If the fellow was watching outside the door, and had knownnothing of there being another man of the same height in the house, hemight very well have taken me for Arnold. He spends half his time up atMontmartre, and may likely enough have given offence to some of theruffians up there; when he is not in a pleasant temper he does not mindwhat he says. Possibly, too, the fellow may be an admirer of Minette, and the thing may be this outcome of jealousy. At any rate I will tellhim in the morning about the affair and let him take warning by it if hechooses. "

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 wasfollowed from here and attacked suddenly in one of the back streetsleading up to the Boulevards. I had heard footsteps behind me for alittle time and had a vague sort of idea that I was being followed. Thefellow ran up suddenly and I had just time to turn and hit out. He wasin the act of striking with a knife, and if I had been a second later hewould probably have settled me. As it was I knocked him down and I fancyI stunned him. At any rate he did not move, so I walked on. Of course itmay have been a mere vulgar attempt at murder and robbery, but from thefact that this man followed me for some considerable distance I shouldsay it was not so, but a question of revenge. I don't know that anyonein Paris has any cause of quarrel with me, but the idea afterwardsoccurred to me that it might be that he took me for you. We are aboutthe same height, and if he was watching the house he might, when I cameout, mistake one for the other. Of course I have not a shadow of reasonfor supposing that you have an enemy, but at any rate I thought it aswell to tell you about it, so that you might be on your guard, as Ishall certainly be, in the future. "

Arnold was silent for a minute. 

"I should not be surprised if you are right, Hartington; they are arough lot at Montmartre, and it is possible that I may, without knowingit, have rubbed some of them the wrong way. I suppose you did not noticewhat he was like?"

"No, it was too dark, and the whole affair too sudden for me to seeanything of the features. He was in a blouse with the low cap workmengenerally wear. I should say he stood four or five inches shorter thanwe do--about five feet eight or so. He was a square-built fellow. If youhappen to come across him I fancy you may recognize him, not from mydescription but from my handiwork. You see, " and he pointed to his righthand, which was wrapped up in an handkerchief, "I hit him hard and havecut 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 aman of that sort is hardly likely to go at once to a dentist to have thegap 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 speciallylikely to make an attempt upon your life these little things will affordyou no clue whatever, but if you have any sort of suspicion that one ofthree or four men might be likely to have a grudge against you, they mayenable you to pick out the fellow who attempted my life. Of course I maybe mistaken altogether and the fellow may have been only an ordinarystreet ruffian. Personally it won't make much difference to me, for I ampretty handy with my fists, but as I know you have had no practice thatway, I recommend 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, andto walk in the middle of the street when you are in doubtfulneighborhoods. A pistol is very good in its way, but it takes time toget it out, and cock it, while one's fist is always ready for service atan instant's notice. "

By this time they had arrived at the door of the studio. Arnold made noallusion to the subject for some days, and then meeting Cuthbert at thedoor of his house, said--

"By the way, Hartington, I have reason to believe that you were rightthat that blow you luckily escaped was meant for me. However, I don'tthink there will be any recurrence of the matter; in fact, I may saythat I am sure there won't. "

"That is all right then, Dampierre. Of course I don't want the matterfollowed up in any way, and should not have spoken about it had I notthought that I ought to give you warning. "

"I feel very much indebted to you anyhow, Hartington. Probably had Ibeen in your place the matter would have gone altogether differently. "

Arnold had in fact learnt with absolute certainty who had beenCuthbert's assailant. When he went up to Montmartre he told Minette whathad happened, and added: "He suspects that the scoundrel took him in thedark for me. "

"Why should any one bear ill-will to you?" Minette asked. 

"That I can't say, but I do think that very likely he is right. He keepshimself to himself, never attends meetings of any kind, and can hardlyhave made an enemy, while it is possible that I may have done so. "

Minette was thoughtful for some time, and when her father joined themand said that it was time to be off to a meeting, she asked himabruptly--

"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 wasgoing upstairs to his room, and as luck would have it, his mouth caughtthe edge of the stone step. His lips were all cut and swollen to fourtimes their usual size and three of his teeth are out. Mon Dieu, what acrash he must have got! He has been drinking a great deal lately, and Ihave warned him over and over again that he would get himself intotrouble; but as a rule liquor does not affect him that way, he getssulky and bad-tempered, but he can generally walk steadily enough. "

"Father, you must come with us to his lodgings, " Minette exclaimed. "Ihave 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 seehim for?"

"Never mind the meeting, " she said, impatiently. "We shall be therebefore it is done. It is more important that I should see Jean. "

"Well, if it must be, it must, " Dufaure grumbled, shrugging hisshoulders. "When you take a thing into your head I know it is of no usetalking. "

Jean Diantre was sitting with two or three of his mates in his atticover a small brazier of charcoal. They rose in surprise at the entranceof Minette and her father, followed by the American. The girl, withoutspeaking, walked straight up to Jean. 

"I knew you were a miserable, " she said, bitterly, "a drunken, worthlessscamp, 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. Yesterdayevening he tried to take the life of Arnold Dampierre here, whom you allknow as a friend of freedom and a hater of tyranny. This brave companionof yours had not the courage to meet him face to face, but stole upbehind him in the dark, and in another moment would have slain the manhe was following, when the tables were turned. The man he had followedwas not Arnold Dampierre but another; and before this wretch couldstrike with his knife, he knocked him down, stunned him, and left himlike a dog that he is on the pavement. No doubt he has told you the liethat he told my father, that he fell while going upstairs drunk. It wasa blow of the fist that has marked him as you see. The man he had triedto murder did not even care to give him in charge. He despised this curtoo much, and yet the fellow may think himself fortunate. Had it beenMonsieur Dampierre it would not have been a fist but a bullet throughhis head that would have punished him. Now mark me, Jean Diantre, " andshe moved a pace forward, so suddenly that the man started back, "youare a known assassin and poltroon. If at any time harm befalls MonsieurDampierre I will stab you with my own hand. If you ever dare to speak tome again I will hold you up to the scorn of the women of the quarter. Asit is, your comrades have heard how mean and cowardly a scoundrel youare. You had best move from Montmartre at once, for when this is knownno honest man will give you his hand, no man who respects himself willwork beside you. Hide yourself elsewhere, for if you stay here I willhound you down, I will see that you have not an hour's peace of yourlife. We reds have our ideas, but we are not assassins. We do not sneakafter a man to stab him in the dark, and when we have arms in our handswe are not to be beaten like curs by an unarmed man. "

The other men had shrunk back from him as she spoke. Jean quailedbeneath 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 wantedto 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 inthe universe. But enough. I have said what I came to say, and you hadbest 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 fatherand Arnold followed, and the four other men, without a word to JeanDiantre, went down the stairs after them, leaving him to himself. 

CHAPTER IX. 

"It is hardly worth while, Minette, " Arnold said, when they reached thestreet, "the man has had his lesson. "

"I could not help it, dear, " she said, in a voice so changed from thatin which she had spoken to Jean Diantre, that no one would haverecognized it as the same; "he had tried to kill you, to take you fromme. He thought it was you who had struck him and hated you worse thanever. It is not because he has failed once that he might fail anothertime. I should never have had a moment's peace when you were away fromme, but I think now you will be safe; he will remove his quarters and goto Villette or to the South side; he will not dare to show his face inMontmartre 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 revolverin each pocket. "

"Then in future, when you are out at night promise me always to walkwith one hand in your pocket, holding the butt of your pistol, so thatyou can draw and fire instantly. He knows you have pistols and will notdare to attack you singly, and even should he find two or three villainsas bad as himself you would be a match for them. "

"I will take care of myself, Minette, but I do not think it likely thathe will renew the attempt. I could see that the man was a coward. He wasas pale as a sheet, partly with rage that he had been discovered andexposed, 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 whenyou are gentle and womanly. You almost frighten me when you blaze outlike that. "

"I am sorry, " she said, penitently; "but I felt for the time mad thatyour 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 justheard that her lover, her all, had been almost taken from her by acowardly 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 reallyangry with a woman for over-zeal in his own cause. "Do not let us sayany more about it; the fellow is not worth a thought. We shall probablynever hear of him again. "

"I hope not, Arnold, but after what he tried to do I shall never feelquite free from anxiety so long as you are in Paris. I wish your Englishfriend had handed him over to the police. "

"I have no doubt he would have done so, but, as he told me, the ideathat the fellow was anything else than a street-ruffian did not come tohim till afterwards. You know what a business it is bringing a charge ofany kind here, and Hartington having himself punished him prettyseverely did not care for the trouble of carrying it further. "

The news was rapidly spread in the cabarets by the men who had beenpresent at Minette's denunciation that Jean Diantre had endeavored toassassinate the American, and much indignation was excited. Had hedrawn a knife upon a fellow-workman over their wine, the matter wouldhave excited but slight reprobation, but that he should have crept up inthe dark to attempt to assassinate one who was a denouncer of tyrants, arepresentative of the great Republic, was voted to be infamous. 

Various punishments were suggested as appropriate for such a crime, butJean did not appear at his accustomed haunts in the morning, and inquiryshowed that he had paid his rent the evening before, had sold hisfurniture for a few francs to one of the other lodgers in the house, andhad left the quarter altogether. Resolutions were passed at the nextmeeting denouncing him as a traitor to the sacred cause of humanity, andthen the matter was forgotten altogether save by Minette. 

As time went on, the luxuries of life altogether disappeared from theshop-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 beensupposed. The herds of cattle gathered under shelter of the guns of theforts had disappeared, but horseflesh was still fairly abundant. Vegetables were not dear, for numbers of people went out every morningto the gardens and fields surrounding Paris and returned laden withthem. 

The animals in the public collection were all killed and the carcassesof all the eatable creatures sold at high prices, and for a timeelephant steak, camel hump, venison, and other meats could be purchasedat restaurants, although no doubt the horse furnished the foundation ofthe greater portion of these dishes. 

The swans and other aquatic birds fetched fabulous prices, and theirpurchase was the occasion of many banquets in houses where suchentertainments had become rare. Still there were no signs that the timewhen Paris was to make its attempt to burst its bonds was at hand. Amongthe National Guard complaints at the long inaction were incessant, butthere was good reason for doubt whether the discontent was as general asit seemed. 

It was one thing to talk of sweeping the Prussians before them, quiteanother to take a part in the performance. Still the steady drillingthat went on had its effect. If the National Guard did not learndiscipline they at least gained the power to make a respectableappearance and to go through simple manoeuvres fairly. 

They walked more erect and even assumed a military swagger and spokesomewhat contemptuously of the line and mobiles, whose discipline was aslax as their own, and among whom drunkenness was rife, for whatever elsefailed, the supply of wine and spirits appeared inexhaustible. Cuthbertwent not unfrequently to dine at the English restaurant of Phipson, where the utter and outspoken contempt of the proprietor for the Frenchin general, and the Parisians in particular, amused him greatly. 

"To see these fellows giving themselves military airs when they takecare never to get within gunshot of the enemy, it is enough to makeone's blood boil, Mr. Hartington. I believe that a couple of score ofstable-boys with pitchforks would lick a battalion of them, and it isworse still when one goes out on the Boulevards and sees them sitting atthe cafés drinking their absinthe as if there was no enemy within ahundred yards of the place. I have never liked them, sir, but I amdownright sickened by them now. I shall sell out as soon as this isover. "

"I don't think they are as bad as they seem, Phipson. If the Prussiansever do force a way into Paris, I think you will see that these fellowscan fight and fight desperately. "

"So will a rat, Mr. Hartington, if you corner him, but he will run aslong as he gets the chance. I think it will do them a world of good, andtake down some of their cockyness, if the Prussians did come in. I couldnot stand it, and as you see I have put my shutters up, and only let inEnglish customers I know. I tell you I can't bring myself to servinghorseflesh. I have got a few first-rate hams still hanging in thecellar. As long as they last and I can pick up anything fit for a humanbeing to sit down to, I shall go on, but I ain't going to give mycustomers grub that is only fit for hounds. I have not come down to bea cat's-meat man yet. As to drink, I have got as you know a goodishsupply of as fine whisky as ever was brewed, but it won't be long beforethat will be the only thing I shall have to sell. I see you still stickto your soldiering, Mr. Hartington. "

"Oh, yes, now I have begun, I shall go through with it, though it is notso 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 thePrussians awake as well as ourselves. Whatever it may be with theNational Guard there is plenty of pluck among the students. I could notwish to have better comrades. "

"Well, there is one advantage, sir, in that uniform. You can go aboutwithout being suspected of, for being a foreigner is just the same inthe eyes of these chaps as being a spy. It is rum now that while thisplace is pretty nigh kept up by the money the English and Americansspend 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 wehave always licked them, sir, and always shall do. There was the olddays when the Black Prince thrashed them. I am a Canterbury boy and haveseen his armor hanging up in the Cathedral many a time; that is how Icame to know about him, and then I have heard that Marlborough used tocrumple them up whenever he met them; and then there was Wellingtonagain. Why, they have never had so much as a chance with us, and on seawe have licked them worse than on land. Well, it ain't in nature menshould like that. "

"Those are old stories, Phipson, and I don't think they have much to dowith the dislike the French have of us. I think it is more because theycannot help seeing for themselves that they are no longer the firstpower 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 heardthem say and from what I have seen myself, I think it is partly becauseFrenchmen find themselves but poor sort of creatures by the side ofmost Englishmen. I have heard them say that Englishmen walked about thestreets of Paris just as if the place belonged to them, and there ain'tno doubt that an Englishman does somehow or other put his foot down andsquare his shoulders in a way you never see a Frenchman do. I havenoticed it myself many a time, and then, if he does get into a row witha Frenchman, the fellow hasn't a chance with him. I expect that gallshim a bit. Anyhow they don't like it. They don't hate the Americans somuch 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 veryfew of them who know how to use their hands. Well, anyhow, I shall beglad to have done with the French, though I will say for them that thelot that uses my place is a good deal better than the generality. Forthe most part they dress as English; that is to say they get theirclothes 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 andcomfortable in them. I have scores of times wondered what the differenceis and I could not tell you to save my life, but for all that I can tella Frenchman the moment he comes in, no matter how he's got up. Thereain't no occasion for them to open their mouths. I can spot them as easyas one could tell the difference between a thorough-bred and a commonroadster. "

As a rule the Franc-tireurs des Écoles went out on the southern orwestern sides of Paris, but one morning they marched out to St. Denis. 

"There has been some pretty hot skirmishing on that side, " the colonelsaid to his officers before starting, "and I have been asked to marchyou out in that direction, and to take up the outpost duties on aportion of the line there. The troops have been having a pretty hardtime of it, and have been pushed backward once or twice, though theyhave always ended by winning back the ground they had lost. We have areputation of keeping our eyes open, and the General told me thismorning that I might consider it as a compliment we were sent there. "

They were marched to a small cluster of houses and relieved twocompanies of the line who had been on duty there during the night. Itwas the first time a specific post had been assigned to them, and themen were in high spirits at what they considered an honor. Theauthorities treated the Franc-tireurs as being valueless for any realfighting: as being useful to a certain extent for harassing the enemies'outposts, but not to be counted upon for any regular work, and soomitted them altogether in the orders assigning the positions to beoccupied. The corps therefore considered it a feather in their caps tobe assigned a position by the side of the regulars. The fires of thetroops were still burning, and the men were soon at work cooking theirbreakfast, one company 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 thePrussian field-guns, while all were pitted with scars of bullets on theside facing the enemy. Scarce a pane of glass remained intact. Thefloors had been torn up for firing and the furniture had shared the samefate. A breastwork had been thrown up some fifty yards in front of thevillage and the houses had been connected by earthen walls, so that ifthe outwork were taken the place could be defended until reinforcementscame up. 

A hundred yards to the left there was a battery of six guns, and anotheron a mound four or five hundred yards to the right. In the daytime theirfire covered the village, and there was little chance of the Germansattempting an attack until after nightfall. The enemy occupied in forcea village of some size five hundred yards away, and had covered it withstrong earthworks. Their outposts faced those of the French with aninterval of some two hundred yards between them. The sentries on dutywere stationed at distances varying from ten to twenty paces apart, behind walls or banks of earth. The enemies' outposts were similarlyprotected. 

Shots were exchanged at intervals throughout the day between Frenchbatteries on the right and left and a redoubt the Germans had thrown upon a rise four or five hundred yards behind their village; the gunnerson both sides occasionally directing their fire upon the houses; theoutposts were for the most part silent, as it was seldom indeed thateven a momentary glimpse was obtained of helmet or kepi, and the orderswere that there was to be no useless firing. 

During the day the companies took turn at outpost duty, but when nightfell the line was strengthened, half the men being under rifles, whilethe rest lay down with their arms by their side, ready to fall in at amoment's notice. A dropping fire was kept up on both sides, but this wasrather for the purpose of showing that they were on the alert than withany idea of harming the invisible foe. 

At ten o'clock Cuthbert went out with the half-company to which hebelonged, to relieve their comrades who had been for the last threehours in the front line. They had been some little time on duty whenPierre Leroux, who was in charge of the half-company, said to DesValles, who commanded 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 marching. "

The captain listened with bent head for a short time. 

"You are right, Pierre, there is certainly a movement of some sort goingon in front, but I fancy it is some distance away; if they were marchingon the village in front we should hear it more plainly. You had bettersend out three or four men from your right let them go some distancealong before they attempt to creep forward. The Prussian sentries aretoo thick along there facing us, but the men might possibly crawl prettyclose 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 nearas they can to their sentries without being observed, and then to lieand listen attentively. They will have a better chance of hearing therethan 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?"

"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 hisname. He chose Cuthbert and two men, one from each of the principal artschools, as he thought it might look like favoritism if he took all fromamong his own comrades. The sentries became more and more scattered ashe went along, the main body being posted in front of the village. Thelast few men were warned that he was going forward, and that they werenot to fire until he returned. He sent the last man on the line tocommunicate with the outposts, furnished by the corps occupying theground farther to the right, that some men were going out toreconnoitre. Then he and his companions cautiously crawled forward. 

They were rather more than half-way across the ground, when Cuthbertuttered an exclamation as he came in sudden contact with a figureadvancing with similar caution in the opposite direction. It needed nota guttural oath in German to inform him that it was an enemy. Touchingas they were, neither could use their arms, and instinctively theygrappled with each other as they lay on the ground. 

"Look out, Leroux, I have got hold of a German, " Cuthbert said in a lowvoice, while at the same moment his antagonist said something to thesame effect in German. 

The lieutenant and the other two men leapt to their feet, and as theydid so, four or five men sprang up close in front of them. 

"Fire!" Leroux exclaimed, and the two men discharged their pieces! Someshots flashed out in front of them but in the darkness none were hit, and in a moment they were engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with theirfoes. 

In the meantime Cuthbert and his antagonist were rolling over and over, locked closely in each other's arms. Seizing a moment when he cameuppermost, Cuthbert steadied himself, relaxed his hold of his opponent, and, half-kneeling, managed to free himself from his embrace, andgripped him by the throat. 

The fight between the others was a short one. The lieutenant had run oneof his opponents through the body, but a German had equalized matters bybringing the butt of his musket down on the head of one of theFranc-tireurs, and being now but two against four, Pierre called to theother to retreat. The Germans followed a few yards and then halted. Asthey passed him Cuthbert gave a final squeeze to his antagonist'sthroat, and, feeling sure that he would not be able to speak for sometime, he crept away for a few yards and lay still among the cabbagesthat covered the field. 

"Where is the sergeant?" one of the Germans said, in a low voice, asthey retraced their steps; "he must have been somewhere here when hecalled. "

After two or three minutes' search they came upon him. 

"He is alive, " one of them said, stooping over him, "he is gasping forbreath. I think he is dying, but, anyhow, we may as well carry him in. "

They lifted the man, and as they did so several shots rang out from theFrench outposts. As soon as they had gone on Cuthbert 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 aminute or two to assure himself that he was not mistaken, and thencrawled back towards his own outposts. 

"Don't fire, " he said, when he knew that he must be near to them, "I amone of those who went out just now. "

"Don't fire, " he heard a voice he knew to be the lieutenant's repeat, "It is Hartington. I was afraid he was done for. " A minute later hejoined him. 

At this moment a sharp fire broke out from the German lines, showingthat their party had also returned to their outposts. 

"You will find Des Valles farther along, Hartington; if you haveanything to report you had better go to him at once, you can tell meafterwards how you escaped. I had quite given you up. "

"I suppose I had better go to him, " Cuthbert said, "but I have not muchto report except that there is no doubt the noise we heard was caused bya heavy column of men marching into the village over there. "

Cuthbert found the captain and made his report. 

"Thank you, Hartington. We were pretty well convinced it was so, foreven before the firing between your party and the Germans began, thesound was loud enough to be clearly distinguished. I suppose you cangive no guess at their numbers?"

"They were a strong body, but how strong I could not tell. A hundredPrussians marching will make as much noise as five hundred Frenchmen, but even allowing for that I should think there will be at least onestrong battalion, perhaps more. "

"If that is the case we must be on the lookout. Of course they may fancywe mean to attack them, but on the other hand they may intend to pushforward. I will go with you to the colonel; he ought to know what youthink about it. He was along here a few minutes ago, but the noise wasnot so plain then, and we did not estimate the force to be anything likeas strong as it is in your opinion. "

Cuthbert made his report to the colonel, and the latter at once wentforward with Des Valles to the outposts, after giving orders for the menin the houses to fall in at once and be ready either to advance tosupport the front line, or to man the barricades and houses and covertheir retreat. Reaching the outposts the sound of marching was no longerheard, but there was a faint continuous murmur which could be plainlymade out in the intervals of the fire kept up by the enemy. 

"What do you think it is, Des Valles?" the colonel asked, afterlistening some time. 

"I should say, sir, that the column has broken up in the village, andthe men are making their way to the front in open order. If I were tosuggest, Colonel, I should say it would be as well to send off men tothe two batteries to tell them that the enemy are mustering in force inthe village opposite to us and that we expect to be attacked, and alsoto the officers commanding the troops on either side of us. "

Four men were at once despatched, and ten minutes later the batteriesalmost simultaneously opened fire on the village. As if it had been asignal a crashing volley was fired from the line held by the Germanoutposts. 

"Here they come!" the colonel shouted, "steady, men, wait till you seethem; then open fire upon them as quickly as you can load, but aimsteadily. Captain Des Valles, will you warn the line to the left thatthey are, when the word is given, to retreat at the double, bearing awayfirst to the left so as to clear the ground for the fire from thehouses. As soon as they are abreast of them they are to enter at therear and aid in the defence. Captain Rainault, will you take similarorders away to the right? Ah, here they are. "

As he spoke a storm of musketry broke out all along the line as a darkmass could be seen approaching. But the enemy were too strong to beresisted, and in a few seconds the colonel shouted the orders toretreat. Then at the top of their speed the Franc-tireurs ran back, andthe instant they cleared off from the front of the houses the colonelshouted to the officer in command there to open fire. 

In half a minute the Franc-tireurs were in the enclosure. Each companyhad already had its position in case of attack assigned to it. For ashort time only those on the side facing the enemy were engaged, but thePrussians speedily overlapped the position and attacked it on all sides. Several times they rushed up close to the barricades, but the fire wasso hot that they were compelled to fall back again. The circle of fireafforded the gunners in the battery sufficient indication as to theposition of the defenders, and their shell fell rapidly both in frontand behind it. 

The fight had lasted but a few minutes when a crashing volley was firedfrom the left. The attack on the houses at once slackened, as thePrussians turned to oppose the reinforcements that had come up; butwhen, shortly afterwards, the regiment from the other side also reachedthe scene of action their commander felt the surprise had failed, andthe Prussians retired to their former position, and the affair was over. Four companies of the line were left to strengthen the position shouldthe enemy try another attack before daybreak, and then, aftercongratulating the colonel of the Franc-tireurs on the vigilance thathad prevented his being taken by surprise, and the sturdy defence he hadmade, the officers of the line withdrew their men to the positions theyhad before occupied. 

The loss of the Franc-tireurs was small. The volley that had precededthe attack had done no execution whatever, and as they had fought inshelter they had lost but eight men killed and a score wounded. It wasthe sharpest affair in which they had as yet been engaged, and the oldcolonel was highly pleased with the result. After the outpost hadresumed their former position Cuthbert related to his comrades theparticulars of his struggle with the Prussian sergeant. 

"We were pretty well matched, " he said, "and I suppose were equallysurprised when we found each other grappling in the dark. Of courseneither of us knew how many supporters the other had close at hand, butthe first thought that struck me was that I must silence him if possiblebefore his comrades came to his assistance. I was only afraid that Ishould not be able to shake myself free from his grip so as to get tohis throat, but fortunately he relaxed his hold the moment he felt thatI had loosened mine, and as I was on the top of him the rest was easy. "

"Well, you got well out of it anyhow, Hartington, " Pierre said. "You didnot 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 goout with you and bring him in. "

"That is a very good idea, Hartington, probably he was only stunned. Iwill go and get leave for us to do so. "

However, just as he turned to go a call was heard in front, and a minutelater the man came in. 

"He had, " he said, when he recovered consciousness, "heard a tremendousfire going on, and as soon as he could collect his thoughts becameassured that the enemy must be attacking the village. He thereforeconcluded that the best thing was to lie still, which he did until thefire ceased and he could hear the Prussians retreating. Then he hadcrawled in until close to the line of outposts. "

"I am heartily glad to see you back again, " Pierre said, shaking him bythe hand. "It would always have been a subject of regret to me if theexpedition that I proposed had lost you your life. As to those who fellin defence of the village I have no personal responsibility, but Ishould certainly have felt that your death always lay at my door. "

CHAPTER X. 

Another month and a great change had come over Paris. The spirit ofempty gasconnade had been succeeded by one more befitting the time andcircumstances. As the hopes of assistance from without lessened, thespirit of resistance grew stronger and firmer. There was no longer anytalk of sweeping the Prussians out of France, no longer was it anarticle of faith that Paris would be saved; but the thought of surrenderwas farther than ever from men's minds. Paris would resist to the last. She would give time to France to reorganize herself, and would set suchan example of devotion and patience under suffering, that when at lastfamine forced her to surrender, the world should at least say that Parishad proved herself worthy of her reputation. 

The defences had been strengthened to an enormous extent; the outlyingforts which, when the siege began, could have been carried without muchdifficulty by a resolute attack, had now been rendered practicallyimpregnable, their approaches had been thickly mined, obstacles of allsorts erected round them, and the casements, barracks, and magazinesprotected by coverings of trunks of trees and so great a depth of earthas to be able to defy the heaviest shell. 

The walls of the _enciente_ had been repaired and greatly strengthened, and covered by bastions and other works, so that even were one of theforts taken the work of the enemy would but be begun. The theatres hadbeen closed from the first. The café's chantants, and the open-airconcerts had long since followed the example, partly because of theincreasing seriousness of the temper of the people, partly because ofthe failure of the gas. The café's themselves were no longer crowdeduntil midnight; the dim lights of the lamps that had taken the place ofgas gave a sombre air to these establishments, and by eight o'clock inthe evening most of them put up their shutters. 

The National Guard were being reorganized. From each battalion, three orfour hundred of the most able-bodied, for the most part unmarried, men, had by order of the Government, been selected and formed into companiesfor service in the field, and these promised in a short time to developinto troops equal in physique and spirit to the mobiles, and vastlysuperior to the line. 

Ladies no longer appeared in the streets in rich dresses. It was feltthat these were out of place now, and all adornments had been rigidlygiven up, and the women of the better class set the example of dressingin the simplest of costumes and the quietest of colors. Great numbershad devoted themselves to the services of the hospitals and ambulances, and spent the whole of their time in ministering to the sick andwounded. 

As yet there was little real suffering in Paris, and the privations andinconveniences were borne uncomplainingly, and even cheerfully. Beef hadbecome almost unobtainable, but it was agreed that horse-flesh was not abad substitute; cats and dogs were fast disappearing from the streets, and their flesh, prepared in a variety of ways, took the place on thecards of the restaurants of hares and game, and the change was hardlynoticed. 

Cuthbert was working hard. The school was now definitely closed, butthose who liked to do so were free to work there when they chose. M. Goudé had taken advantage of the cessation of lessons to paint on hisown account, and was engaged upon a large canvas which he announced wasintended for the Salon. 

"All this, " he said, "has wiped away old quarrels. If I were fit for itI would do as so many of the artists of Paris have done--take my placein the ranks--but I am past the age for marching and sleeping inditches; but I can entertain no further anger against men who arefighting 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 thesebarbarians, France still holds her head high, and is at the head ofcivilization. "

Cuthbert, however, was not among the number of those who used thepainting-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. Anardor for work had seized him, and it was with reluctance that he putaside his brush when the day's work was over. He was engaged upon twopictures, and worked upon them alternately as the mood seized him. Whenhe had done for the day the canvas was always covered up and the easelsplaced behind a screen in the corner of the room and the doors opened tohis friends. 

Once a week for two days, when the corps marched out to take its turn atoutpost work, the work was laid by. Between the regular troops on eitherside there was but an occasional exchange of shots, except when one orthe other side attempted to advance its position, but this was seldom, for every post of advantage and every village was now so stronglyfortified as to defy capture except by a large force. 

The Germans had recognized already that Paris was not to be taken byforce, at the cost except of a tremendous expenditure of life, therefore, they were content to close every avenue of escape and toleave it to famine to do the work for them. The French on their sidefelt that minor operations to enlarge their boundary somewhat, were buta vain effort, and reserved themselves for a great attempt to breakthrough the line. The Franc-tireurs, however, were ever active. Theykept up an increasing fusilade upon the Prussian outposts night and day, keeping them in a state of perpetual irritation and watchfulness. 

Except when on this service, Cuthbert saw but little of ArnoldDampierre. The latter had entirely given up painting and was seldom athis lodgings; nor when at home did he join in the smoking-parties at oneor other of the students rooms. Other luxuries had given out, buttobacco was still fairly cheap and its solace made up for manyprivations. Nor was Arnold's absence regretted. He had never beenpopular, and on the few occasions when he appeared among them, he was somoody and taciturn that his absence was felt as a relief. When on dutywith the corps, however, he was always in good spirits. He seemed todelight in action and was ever ready to volunteer for any dangerouswork, such as crawling up close to the German outposts to ascertaintheir precise positions. He had so many narrow escapes that his comradesdeclared 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 getoutside the walls--he is cheerful, good-tempered, and full ofardor--here he is a bear. He will get into trouble if he does not mind. I was this afternoon opposite the Hôtel de Ville. There were many of theunwashed denouncing the Government and its ways to all who would listento them. Dampierre was standing in one of the groups where a man, whom Iknew to be Minette's father, for he came to the studio one day to saythat she was unwell and could not come, was addressing them. He waspouring out threats against the bourgeois, against the Government, against every one in fact. He said that at present the true patriots, the working-men of Paris, were disarmed, but even had they arms, theywould not imperil the defence of Paris by civil war; but that as soon asthe accursed Germans had turned their backs, their day would come, andthe true principles of the Republic, the principles of '79, would thenbe triumphant, and France would be free of the incubus of the selfishcapitalists who ground down the people. I could see that Dampierrethoroughly sympathized with the fellow, and I believe that if there istrouble he is capable of putting on a red cap and marching with the scumof Belleville. 

"It is not Minette's father, but Minette, who has converted him. I sawher marching at the head of one of the Belleville battalions the otherday, dressed as a cantinière, and carrying herself with the air of ayoung Amazon. "

"That girl is capable of anything, " Cuthbert said; "I have always saidthat she was a small sleeping volcano, and if there are barricades I canfancy 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 asI could in the way of warning Dampierre in the early days, but I soonsaw that if we were to continue on terms of amity I must drop it. It isan infatuation and a most unfortunate one, but it must run its course. Dampierre is a gentleman, and although at present he may be carried awayby 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 whenthey proceeded to carry their theories into execution. As to Minette, ifhe is ever mad enough to marry her, the best thing would be to do so assoon 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 nodoubt she would have the good sense to play the part of a grande dameadmirably, and would soon become a leader of French society there; but Ishould be sorry to predict how long it would last and what would comeafter it, and I believe in my heart that the best thing that couldhappen for him would be to be knocked over by a Prussian bullet. Butafter all the thing may never come off. A girl like Minette must havelovers in her own class. I have no doubt she is fond of Dampierre atpresent, but no one can say how long it will last. I can imagine thatshe is proud of her conquest. He is good-looking, a gentleman, and rich. No doubt she is envied in her quarter, and besides it must be agratification to her to have induced or fascinated him into casting inhis lot with the reds, but all that will pall in time. If I were in hisplace I should never feel sure of her until I had placed the ring on herfinger. "

"That is the time when I should begin not to feel sure of her, " Renélaughed, "my anxieties would begin then. She is as changeable as anApril sky. She could love passionately for a time, but for how long Ishould be sorry to guess. You see her in the studio, she is delightedwith every fresh dress and fresh pose. Never was there so good a modelfor 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, sheadores it, but will it soon be thrown by, and perhaps she will bebattering its head with a stick. When Minette first came to the studio Iwas mad about her, now I would as soon have a tiger-cat for a mistress. "

"That is too severe, René, " a young man who had joined the studio butthree months before, expostulated. "She seemed to me a charming youngwoman. I cannot understand what you and Cuthbert are talking of her inthis way for. "

René laughed. 

"Ah, you haven't got over the first stage yet, and many of the otherswill agree with you. We all like her, you know, we are all glad to haveher with us; she is like a glass of champagne, and we cannot sayanything against her in that quality. It is only when one comes to talkabout her as a wife that one is frightened. "

"I believe all this is on account of her standing last month as Judithabout to kill Holofernes. "

"Perhaps you are right, Clement. I admit that was a revelation to me. Iused to laugh at Cuthbert, who declared she frightened him, but I feltthen he was right. Good heavens, what a Judith she was; it was enough tomake one shiver to see the look of hate, of triumph and of vengeance inher face. One knew that one blow would do it; that his head would besevered by that heavy knife she held as surely as a Maître d'Armes wouldcut a dead sheep in two. "

"It was only a piece of acting, René. You might as well say that atragedienne would be capable of carrying out a tragedy in her ownfamily. "

"Perhaps so, Clement, but then you see it would never occur to me tomarry a tragedienne. I should imagine that she would ask for the salt inthe same tone that she would demand poison. I grant it was acting, butthere was a terrific truth about it that showed that she was at leastable to picture the position and feel it. I tried to sketch her, but Igave it up as hopeless. It was beyond me altogether. I observed that allthe others failed, too, except Cuthbert here. He dashed it off in hisnote-book, and if he ever paints it, I would not have it hung up in mybedroom for a thousand francs, for I should never dare to go to sleepwith it looking at me. But, indeed, of late, Minette has changed a gooddeal; the little fool is carried away by all this talk up at Belleville, and takes it quite seriously. You remember she has refused our lastthree invitations, and she said quite superbly when I asked her the lasttime, 'This is no time for feasting and enjoyment, M. René, when Parisis besieged and thousands are starving. '"

"Then I don't know where they are, " Pierre said. "Belleville was neverso well off as it is to-day; every man gets a franc and a half a day forwearing a kepi and going for a few hours once a week on duty on thewall. 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 dayare offered by the Government for laborers, they cannot get enough men. The fellows enjoy smoking, lounging, talking, and doing nothing too muchto be tempted by any offer. There may be starvation before we have done;but at any rate there is none at present, for every man, woman, andchild draws their ration of meat, not a large one, but enough to get onwith; beside 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 thatworking-men would not always exist on charity, and the time would comewhen there would be plenty for all. We shall have trouble with thembefore 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 severaltimes. This spell of idleness is doing much harm. As soon as we havedone with the Prussians we shall have the reds on our hands. "

"We are seven to one against them, " René said, contemptuously. "Thevoting the other day showed that. "

"Ah, but the seventh know what they want. They want to be masters. Theywant money enough to keep them without work. They want to set thestreets flowing with blood. The other six only want to be left alone. They have no idea of risking their lives, and you will see, when itbegins, 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, evenif 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 hada leader they might fight, but who is to lead them? Trochu is animbecile, the real fighting army is in the prisons of Germany, and whenit is released will not care to embark in another war. I think thingslook bad. "

"What should we do?" Pierre asked. 

"We should paint, " Henri said, "that is to say we should paint if thingsgo as I think they will, and the National Guard refuse to fight. If themen who have something to lose won't lift an arm to defend it, whyshould 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 shallhave the guillotine at work, and the first heads to fall will be thoseof your best customers. You don't suppose the ruffians of Belleville aregoing to become patrons of art. For my part I would rather fight againstthe savages than level my rifle against the honest German lads who areled here against us. I should think no more of shooting one of theseroughs than of killing a tiger--indeed, I regard the tiger as the morehonest beast of the two. Still, if you Frenchmen like to be ruled overby King Mob, it is no business of mine. Thank God, such a thing isnever likely to happen in England--at any rate in my time. In the firstplace, we can trust our troops, and in the second, we could trustourselves. Were there not a soldier in the land, such a thing will neverhappen. Our workmen have sense enough to know that a mob-rule would beruin to them as well as to the rich, and, were it needed, in twenty-fourhours half a million men could be sworn in as constables, and thesewould 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 fromsuch a Government. There is not among them a single practical man exceptGambetta, and he is away at Tours. It is a Government of lawyers andspouters; of words they give us plenty, of government nothing. I wouldrather, infinitely rather, that the women at the Halles should chose adozen of the most capable women among them and establish them as theGovernment. I will guarantee you would see a change for the betterbefore twenty-four hours were over. I doubt if you could see a changefor the worse. Jules Fauvre with his ridiculous phrase, not one foot ofour territory, not one stone of our fortresses, is no better than amountebank, and the others are as bad. Would that either Ducrot or Vinoyhad the firmness and half the talent of a Napoleon. They would march thetroops in, sweep away this gathering of imbeciles, establish martiallaw, disarm Belleville and Montmartre, shoot Floureus, Pyat, Blanqui, and a hundred of the most noxious of these vermin; forbid allassemblages, turn the National Guards into soldiers, and after renderingParis impotent for mischief turn their attention to the Germans. The onething that can save Paris to my mind is a military dictator, but I seeno sign of such a man being forthcoming. "

"Bravo! bravo!" several of the students shouted, "what a pity it is thatyou are an Englishman, Cuthbert. You would be just the man for usotherwise. "

"At any rate, I should do something and not let everything drift, "Cuthbert retorted, joining in the laugh at his own unaccustomedvehemence; "but there, we have broken our agreement, now let us revertto art;" but the effort was vain, the talk soon drifted back again tothe siege, and many were the conjectures as to what Trochu's famous plancould be and which point offered the most hopeful chance for the army topierce the German cordon. 

Mary Brander had a fortnight before enrolling herself among the nursesat the American ambulance, which was doing admirable work, and wasadmitted by the French themselves to be a model which could be followedwith great advantage in their own hospitals. Here everything was neat, clean, and well arranged. The wounded were lodged in tents which werewell ventilated and yet warm. The surgeons and some of the nurses werealso under canvas, while others, among whom was Mary Brander, went backto their homes when their turn of duty was over. They had, like theladies who worked in the French hospitals, adopted a sort of uniform andwore the white badge with the red cross on their arms. With this theycould go unquestioned, and free from impertinent remarks through thethickest crowds, everyone making way for them with respectful civility. 

"It is terrible, " she said to Cuthbert, upon his calling one eveningwhen she was off duty, "and yet I do not feel it so trying as listeningto the silly talk and seeing the follies of the people in the streets. The poor fellows bear their sufferings so patiently, they are sograteful for every little thing done for them, that one cannot but feelhow much there is likable among the French in spite of their follies. Italk to them a good deal and it is almost always about their homes andtheir families, especially their mothers. Sometimes it is theirsweethearts or their sisters. With mobiles and linesmen it is just thesame. Sometimes I write letters for them--such simple, touching lettersas they are, it is difficult not to cry as they dictate, what are, inmany cases, last farewells. They always want those at home to know thatthey have died doing their duty, but beyond that they don't say much ofthemselves. 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 pigeonpost, I have a pile of little packets to be despatched when Paris isopen--locks of hair, photographs, Bibles, and keepsakes of all kinds. "

"I think at any rate, Mary, you have at present discovered one branch atleast of woman's mission upon which we cannot quarrel. We grant not onlyyour 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 thoughtsreverting to the hospital. "It is terrible to think that when the greatbattle everyone seems looking forward to takes place, there may bethousands of wounded to be cared for. When do you think it will be?"

"Soon; of course no one can say when, but I don't see anything to gainfrom waiting longer. The mobiles are as good as they are likely to bemade. One can't call the line disciplined, according to the Englishideas of discipline, but they are better than they were, and at any rateall are anxious for something to be done. "

"Do you think they will get through?"

He shook his head. 

"If they could fall suddenly upon the Germans they might do so, but itis no easy matter to move large bodies of men quickly, and to besuccessful they ought to be able to hurl themselves against the Germansbefore they have time to concentrate. I have no doubt whichever side weissue out on, we shall get on fairly enough as long as we have theassistance of the guns of the forts; but beyond that I don't think weshall get. The Germans must by this time know the country vastly betterthan we do. They are immensely better trained in making extensivemovements. They have excellent generals and good officers. I fancy itwill be the same thing that it has been before. We shall make anadvance, we shall push the enemy back for a bit, we shall occupypositions, and the next day the Germans will retake them. We have nomethod and no commissariat. Even now bodies of troops are outside thewalls frequently four-and-twenty hours without food. In the confusionconsequent on a battle matters will be ten times worse. In the morningthe troops will be half-starved and half-frozen, and there will be verylittle fight left in them. "

"What would you do if you were commander-in-chief, Cuthbert?"

"I am altogether unfit to make a plan, and still more unfit to carry itout, " he said, "but my idea would certainly be to attack somewhere withhalf my force, to force the enemy back, and to hold positions at the endof the day, so that the Germans would concentrate to attack in themorning. At night I would withdraw the greater portion of them, marchthem straight across Paris; the other half of the army would attackthere at daybreak, and would be reinforced soon after the fighting beganby those who had fought the day before. I think in that way they oughtto be able to cut their way out, but what they would do when they onceget 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 themcontinually. The infantry would pursue and would march infinitely betterthan we should do. We should scatter to get food, whole regiments wouldbreak up and become masses of fugitives, and finally we should besurrounded, 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 thrashedon 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 prophesyingsuccess for your friends, the Germans. "

"I don't know why you should always insist that they are my friends. Iwas of opinion that they were right at first, and am so still, but Ithink they now are behaving hardly and cruelly; at least I thinkBismarck is. It was heartless for him to insist, as a condition of thearmistice, that Paris should not be re-victualled while it lasted. Ofcourse they could not agree to that, though they would have agreed toanything like fair conditions. Everyone really wanted peace, and if theGermans hadn't insisted on those terms, peace would have been made. Sothings 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 todestroy France altogether. I despised these people at first, but I don'tdespise them now. At least they are wonderfully patient, and though theyknow what they will have to suffer when everything is eaten up, no onehas said a word in favor of surrender, since Bismarck showed howdetermined 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 everhave eaten horse-flesh, but it is really not so bad. Monsieur Michaudtold us, yesterday, that he dined out with some friends and had had bothcat and rat. Of course they were disguised with sauces, but the peoplemade no secret of what they were, and he said they were really verynice. I don't think I could try them, but I don't feel as certain as Idid; anyhow, we haven't begun to touch our stores, and there is no talkof confiscating everything yet. "

CHAPTER XI. 

Two men were sitting in a cabaret near the Halles. One was dressed inthe uniform of a sergeant of the National Guard. He was apowerfully-built man, with a black beard and a mustache, and a roughcrop of hair that stuck out aggressively beneath his kepi. The other wassome fifteen years younger; beyond the cap he wore no military uniform. He had a mustache only, and was a good-looking young fellow of theOuvrier class. 

"I tell you it is too bad, Père Dufaure. A year ago she pretended sheliked me, and the fact that she wore good dresses and was earning lotsof money did not seem to make any difference in her. But now all that ischanged. That foreigner has turned her head. She thinks now she isgoing to be a lady and has thrown me over as if I were dirt, but I won'thave it, " and he struck his fist upon the table, "those cursedaristocrats are not to have everything their own way. "

"Patience, Jean. Women will be women, and the right way to win her backis to have patience and wait. I don't say that just at present her headis 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 wehave too long been ground down by the bourgeois, still she may tire ofhim after a while. He is not amusing, this American, and though Minettemay like being adored, she likes being amused also. Pooh, pooh, thismatter will come all right. Besides, although she likes the American atpresent, she thinks more of the Commune than of any lover. Have patienceand do not quarrel with her. You know that I am on your side. ButMinette is a good deal like what her mother was. Ah, these women! A mancan do nothing with them when they make up their minds to have their ownway. What can I say to her? I can not threaten to turn her out of thehouse for everything in it is hers. It is she who earns the money. Sheis too old to be beaten, and if it comes to scolding, her tongue runsfaster 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, whenthis thing first began, and I told her to beware how she went on withthis American, for that I would kill him if he came in my way, shecaught up a knife, and if I had not run like a rabbit, she would havestuck me, and you know how she went on, and drove me out of Montmartre. After that affair I have not dared see her. "

"Why not let her go? and take to someone else, Jean? There are plenty ofpretty girls in the quarter who would not say no to the best risingworker in his trade. "

"It is no use, Père Dufaure, I have told myself the same a hundredtimes, but I cannot do it. She has her tempers, what woman has not; butat other times who is so bright and gay as she is?"

"Well, well, Jean, we shall see what we shall see. You don't supposethat if things do not turn out well, as we hope they will do, I shouldlet her carry out this whim of hers, and go off with the American, andleave 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 himwelcome when he comes to our house; we go together to the meetings, andsometimes he speaks, and speaks well, though he does not go far enoughfor us. Well, no one can say what may happen--he may be shot by theGermans, or he may be shot at the barricades, who knows. At any rate itis best to hold my peace. If I leave things alone, Minette is as likelyas not to change her mind again, but if I were to say anything againsthim--first, we should have a scene; secondly, she would be more thanever determined on this whim. You must be patient, Jean, and all willcome well in the end. "

"I am not so sure of that, " Jean said, sullenly. "I was as patient as Icould be, but no good came of it; then, as you know, I tried to get ridof him, but failed, and had to move away, but one thing is certain, if Idon't marry her he never shall. However, I can wait. "

"That is all right, Jean; wait till our little affairs come off and thebourgeois are under our feet. There will be good posts for true citizensthen, and I will see that you have one, and it will be time to talkabout marriages when everything is going on well. When we once get theGermans out of the way, we shall see what we shall see, Sapristie! wewill make short work of the capitalists, and as for the troops, theywill have had enough fighting and will be ready enough to march off andleave us alone. "

At the time they were talking, the couple they were speaking of werestanding leaning on the parapet of the wall by the river. They met thereevery evening when there was no assembly of importance to attend. 

"I wish it was all over, Minette, " he said, "and that we could leavethe city and be off. It would be a different life for you, dear, but Ihope a pleasanter one. There would be no cold weather like this, but youcan sit all the year round in the veranda without needing wraps. Therewill be servants to wait on you, and carriages, and everything you canwish for, and when you are disposed there will be society; and as all ofour friends speak French, you will soon be quite at home with them. And, what one thinks of a good deal at present, there will be fruits andflowers, 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 thatyou will be glad to sit indoors in a darkened room and do nothing. Ishall paint a good deal, and when you have the fancy, you can sit as mymodel again. "

"And is it a large city, Arnold? It seems to me now that I could notlive in the country, I should soon get dreadfully tired of it. "

"It is a large city, " he said, "though, of course, not so large asParis. There are theatres there and amusements of all sorts. "

"I should be content with you, Arnold. It does not seem to me that Icould want anything else, but after all this excitement it will seemstrange to have nothing to do. "

"I shall be glad to be out of it, " he said. "Your father and the othersare quite right--the rich have too much and the poor too little. Themanufacturers gain fortunes, and the men whose work enriches them remainpoor all their lives. Still I fear that they will go too far, and thattroubles me. "

She made a quick movement as if about to speak, but checked herself fora moment, and then said, quietly--

"You know the proverb, Arnold, 'One cannot make an omelette withoutbreaking eggs. '"

"That is true, " he said, "as to an omelette, but a change of Governmentcan be carried out without costing life, that is unless there isresistance, and I hope there will be none here. The incapables overthere will slink away. Why, Flourens and a few hundred men were enoughto snatch the government out of their feeble hands. If the peopledeclare that they will govern themselves, who is to withstand them. Ihope 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 myquiet home again, with its gardens and flowers, and balmy air, and Ilike handling a paint-brush much better than a rifle, and above all tosee you mistress of my home, but I know there is a good deal to gothrough first. Trochu's plans may be carried out any day. "

"Ah! Those Prussians!" she exclaimed, in a tone of the deepest hate, with a gesture of defiance towards Versailles. "They will dare to fireat you!"

"Yes, I imagine they will do that, Minette, " he said with a laugh, "andpretty hotly, too. "

"Well, if they kill you, " she said, passionately, "I will avenge you. Iwill go out through the outposts and will find my way to Versailles, andI will kill William or Bismarck. They may kill me afterwards, I carenothing for that. Charlotte Corday was a reactionist, but she slew Maratand died calmly and bravely. I could do as much and would to revengeyou. "

"I hope you would not attempt anything so mad, Minette. Of course, Imust take my chance as everyone else will do, and the Prussians will beno more to blame if one of their bullets killed me than if it had struckanyone else. Everyone who goes into a battle has to run his chances. Ihad an elder brother killed in the civil war we had in the States. Ihave no great love for the North, but I do not blame them especially forthe 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 isbitterly cold, Minette; let us be walking. I am glad we are not onoutpost duty to-night. I put on so many flannel shirts that I can hardlybutton my tunic over them, but in spite of that it is cold work standingwith one's hands on one's trigger looking out into the darkness. It isquite a relief when a rifle rings out either from our side or theother. Then for a bit everyone is alive and active, we think thePrussians are advancing, and they think we are, and we both blaze awaymerrily for a bit. Then there is a lull again, and perhaps an hour ortwo of dreary waiting till there is a fresh alarm. As soon as we arerelieved, we hurry off to our quarter, where there is sure to be a fireblazing. Then we heat up the coffee in our canteens, pouring in a littlespirits, and are soon warm again. "

"I cannot see why they don't form corps of women, Arnold; we have justas much at stake as the men have, and I am sure we should be quite asbrave 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 tofight when all the men are used up. What the women ought to do is todrive the men outside the walls. If the women were to arm themselveswith mops soaked in dirty water, and were to attack every man underforty they found lurking in the streets, they would soon make a changein things. You should begin in your own quarter first, for although theyare always denouncing the bourgeois for not fighting, I cannot see thatthere is any more eagerness to go out at Montmartre than there is in thequarter of the Bank--in fact, a great deal less. "

"Why should the ouvriers fight with the Germans, Arnold--to them itmatters little whether Paris is taken by the Germans or not--it is notthey whose houses will be sacked, it is not they who will have to paythe indemnity. "

"No, but at least they are Frenchmen. They can talk enough about thehonor of France, but it is little they do to preserve it. They shout, 'the Prussians must be destroyed, ' and then go off quietly to theircabarets to smoke and drink. I do not admire the bourgeois, but I do notsee anything more admirable among the ouvriers. They talk grandly butthey do nothing. There is no difficulty in getting volunteers for thewar companies among the National Guard of the centre, though to them theextra pay is nothing; but at Belleville and Montmartre the war companiesdon't fill up. They rail at the bourgeois but when it comes to fightingoutside the walls I will wager that the shopkeepers show the mostcourage. "

"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 whenthere is nothing to do, and the Germans are miles away. "

"Well, we shall see, " he replied, grimly. "Anyhow, I wish it were allover, and that we were on our way home. You have never seen a ship yet, Minette. You will be astonished when you go on board one of the greatliners, " and as they walked along the Boulevards he told her of thefloating palaces, in one of which they were to cross the ocean, andforgetting for a time the questions that absorbed her, she listened withthe interest of a child hearing a fairy-tale. When they nearedMontmartre they separated, for Minette would never walk with him in herown quarter. 

The next morning, November 28th, the order was issued that the gateswere to be closed and that no one was to be allowed to pass out underany pretext whatever. No one doubted that the long-expected sally was tobe carried out. Bodies of troops marched through the streets, trains ofwagons with munitions of war moved in the same direction, and in an hourall Paris knew that the sortie was to take place somewhere across theloop formed by the Marne. 

"It is for to-morrow, " Pierre Leroux exclaimed, running into Cuthbert'sroom, "we are to parade at daybreak. The gates are shut, and troops aremoving about everywhere. "

"All right, Pierre; we have been looking for it for so long, that itcomes almost as a surprise at last. "

Cuthbert got up, made himself a cup of coffee, drank it with a piece ofdry bread, and then sallied out. Mary would be on duty at ten o'clock. He knew the road she took on her way to the hospital and should meether. In half an hour he saw the trim figure in the dark dress, and thewhite band round the arm. 

"I suppose you have heard that we are going to stir up the German nestto-morrow, " he said gayly. 

"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 twomonths. We are to be under arms at daybreak, and as you will be at theambulance for the next twenty-four hours I thought I would make aneffort to catch you on the way. I want you to come round to mylodgings. "

She looked surprised. 

"Of course I will come, " she said frankly, "but what do you want me todo that for?"

"Well, there is no saying as to who will come back again tomorrow, Mary, and I want you to see my two pictures. I have been working at them forthe last two months steadily. They are not quite finished yet, butanother week would have been enough for the finishing touches, but Idon't suppose you will miss them. Nobody has seen them yet, and nobodywould have seen them till they were quite ready, but as it is possiblethey never may be finished I should like you to see them now. I am nottaking you up under any false pretences, " he said, lightly, "nor to tryagain to get you to change your mission. I only want you to see that Ihave been working honestly. I could see when I have spoken of mypainting there was always a little incredulity in the way in which youlistened to me. You had so completely made up your mind that I shouldnever be earnest about anything that you could not bring yourself tobelieve that I wasn't amusing myself with art here, just as I did inLondon. I had intended to have brought them triumphantly in a fiacre toyour place, when they were finished, and I can't deny myself thepleasure of disabusing your mind. It is not far out of your way, and ifwe walk fast you can still arrive at your ambulance in time. If therewere any fiacres about I would call one, but they have quitedisappeared. In the first place, because no one is rich enough to beable to pay for such luxuries, and in the second, because most of thehorses have been turned to other uses. "

She did not seem to pay very much attention to what he was saying, butbroke in with the question--

"Do you think there will be much fighting?"

"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 aredetermined to get out of a place, and an equal number of men with gunsand cannon just as determined to keep them in, the chances are that, asthe Irish say, there will be wigs on the green. I do not suppose theloss will be great in comparison to the number engaged, becausecertainly a good many of the French will reconsider their determinationto get out, and will be seized with a burning desire to get back as soonas the German shells begin to fall among them, still I do hope that theywill make a decent fight of it. I know there are some tremendouslystrong batteries on the ground enclosed by the loop of the Marne, whichis 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 dowish that it was not so cold, fighting is bad enough in summer; but thepossibility of lying out all night on the snow wounded is one I verystrongly object to. "

He continued to talk in the same light strain, until they reached hislodgings, in order to put the girl at her ease. 

"So this is your sitting-room, " she said, with a laugh that had a tremorin 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 youwill sit down by the window I will bring the easels out. "

She did as he told her. The pictures were covered when he brought themout. He placed them where the light would fall best on them, and thenremoved the cloths. 

"They have not arrived at the glories of frames yet, " he said, "but youmust make allowances for that. I can assure you they will look muchlarger and more important when they are in their settings. "

The girl sat for a minute without speaking. They were reproductions on alarger scale and with all the improvements that his added skill andexperience could introduce of the two he had exhibited to M. Goudé, whenhe entered the studio. 

"I had intended to do battle-pieces, " he said, "and have madeinnumerable sketches, but somehow or other the inspiration did not comein that direction, so I fell back on these which are taken from smallerones I painted before I left London. Do you like them? You see I hangupon 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 ajudge of painting, though I have been a good deal in the galleries ofDresden, and I was at Munich too; and I know enough to see they arepainted by a real artist. I like the bright one best, the other almostfrightens me, it is so sad and hopeless, I think--" and she hesitated, "that girl in the veranda is something like me, though I am sure I neverlook a bit like that, and I am nothing--nothing like so pretty. "

"You never look like that, Miss Brander, because you have never felt asthat girl is supposed to be feeling; some day when the time comes thatyou feel as she does you will look so. That is a woman, a woman wholoves. At present that side of your nature has not woke up. Theintellectual side of you, if I may so speak, has been forced, and yoursoul is still asleep. Some day you will admit that the portrait, for Iown it to be a portrait, is a life-like one. Now--" he broke offabruptly, "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 walking for some timein silence. "You must have worked hard indeed. I own I never thoughtthat you would. I used to consider your sketches very pretty, but Inever 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 cometo be a fair one some day--that is if the Germans don't forciblyinterfere--but I have worked very hard, and I may tell you that Goudé, who is one of the best judges in Paris, thinks well of me. I will askyou 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 makingprovision for what may happen. When I return you can hand it to meagain. If I should not come back please inclose it to your father. Hewill see that its provisions are carried out. I may say that I have leftyou the two pictures. You have a right to them, for if it had not beenfor you I don't suppose they would ever have been painted. I only wishthat they had been quite finished. "

Mary took the paper without a word, nor did she speak again until theyarrived 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 ina couple of days. "

"God grant that it may be so, " she said, "I shall suffer so till youdo. "

"Yes, we have always been good friends, haven't we? Now, child, youalways used to give me a kiss before I left you then. Mayn't I have onenow?"

She held up her face, he kissed her twice, and then turned and strodeaway. 

"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 hercomposition. There was no more of doubt or hesitation in the way inwhich she held up her face to be kissed, than when she did so as achild. Indeed, as a child, I do think she would have cried if I told herat parting that I was going away for good. Well, it is of no use blamingher. She can't help it if she is deficient in the one quality that is ofall the most important. Of course she has got it and will know it someday, but at present it is latent and it is evident that I am not the manwho has the key of it. She was pleased at my pictures. It was one of herideas that I ought to do something, and she is pleased to find that Ihave buckled to work in earnest, just as she would be pleased ifParliament would pass a law giving to women some of the rights which shehas taken it into her head they are deprived of. However, perhaps it isbetter as it is. If anything happens to me to-morrow, she will be sorryfor a week or two just as she would if she lost any other friend, whileif Arnold Dampierre goes down Minette will for a time be like a madwoman. At any rate my five thousand will help her to carry out hercrusade. I should imagine that she won't get much aid in that directionfrom her father. 

"Halloa, I know that man's face, " he broke off as he noticed awell-dressed man turn in at the door of a quiet-looking residence he wasjust approaching, "I know his face well; he is an Englishman, too, but Ican't think where I have seen him. " He could not have told himself whyhe should have given the question a second thought, but the face kepthaunting him in spite of the graver matters in his mind, and as hereached the door of his lodgings he stopped suddenly. 

"I have it, " he exclaimed, "it is Cumming, the manager of the bank, thefellow that ruined it and then absconded. I saw they were looking forhim in Spain and South America and a dozen other places, and here he is. By Jove, he is a clever fellow. I suppose he came here as soon as thewar broke out, knowing very well that the police would have plenty ofother things to think of besides inquiring as to the antecedents ofEnglishmen who took up their residence here. Of course he has beenabsolutely safe since the fall of the Empire. The fellow has grown abeard and mustache; that is why I did not recognize him at first. Ofcourse he has taken another name. Well, I don't know that it is anybusiness of mine. He got off with some money, but I don't suppose it wasany great sum. At any rate it would not be enough to make any materialdifference to the creditors of the bank. However, I will think it overlater on. There is no hurry about the matter. He is here till the siegeis over, and I should certainly like to have a talk with him. I havenever been able to get it quite out of my mind that there has beensomething mysterious about the whole affair as far as my father wasconcerned, though where the mystery comes in is more than I can imagine. I expect it is simply because I have never liked Brander, and havealways had a strong idea that our popular townsman was at bottom a knaveas well as a humbug. "

Mary Brander went about her work very quietly all day, and more thanone of the wounded patients remarked the change in her manner. 

"Mademoiselle is suffering to-day, " one of them said to her, as hemissed the ring of hopefulness and cheeriness with which she generallyspoke to him. 

"I am not feeling well, I have a bad headache; and moreover I havefriends in the sortie that is to be made to-night. "

"Ah, yes, mademoiselle, there must be many sad hearts in Paris. As forme, my spirits have risen since I heard it. At last we are going tobegin in earnest and it is time. I only wish I could have been wellenough to have taken my share in it. It is tiresome to think that I havebeen wounded in a trifling skirmish. I should not have minded if it hadbeen tomorrow, so that, when I am an old man, I might tell mygrandchildren that I got that scar on the day when we drove thePrussians from the front of Paris. That would have been something tosay. Courage, mademoiselle, after all there are twenty who get throughthese things safely, to every one that is hit, and your friends will becovered with glory. "

"I hope that it will be as you think, " she said, "but it may be theother way, and that the sortie will fail. "

"You must not think that, " he said. "We have not had a fair chancebefore, 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 beatenby these Prussians? They have beaten us of late, because we have beenbadly 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 thenews came that things were not all in readiness, and that the sortie wasdeferred at least for twenty-four hours. 

"You are not well, Miss Brander, " the chief surgeon of the hospital saidto her soon afterwards, "I have noticed all day that you have beenlooking fagged and worn out. As it is certain now that we shall have nounusual 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 onegets hardened to it. Fortunately I have no lack of assistance. If you donot feel better to-morrow morning take another twenty-four hours offduty. You are likely to want all your strength and nerve on Monday ifthis affair comes off in earnest, which I own I am inclined to doubt, for, so far, there has been no shadow of earnestness about anythingsince the siege began. "

CHAPTER XII. 

The Franc-tireurs des Écoles had marched out beyond the walls when theorder came that the affair was postponed, and that they would not berequired till the following day, when they were to parade at daybreak. There was much indignation at the change and all sorts of causes weresuggested for it. One rumor was to the effect that the pontoon bridgesfor crossing the river were of insufficient length. Others said that thetrain of provisions that was to accompany the force after it had cut itsway through the Prussians was not ready. One rumor was to the effectthat the Prussians had been apprised by spies of Trochu's intentions andhad massed heavy bodies of men at the threatened point. The mostgenerally received opinion was that Trochu's object had been only tomake a demonstration on this side of Paris, with the object of deceivingthe Prussians and inducing them to 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 thecorps was dismissed, he walked back with a group of his friends, "it isa mistake too. We had all got ourselves up to boiling heat, and had madeup our minds to go through with it, and this delay is like a dash ofcold water. Of course it is the same with the rest of the force. Onehates being humbugged, and it makes one doubt whether our generals knowtheir business. Well, there is one thing, the delay won't be a longone; it is eight o'clock now, and as we must be up by six, I shall turnin at once and get a good sleep. Be sure and don't forget your flasks inthe 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 daybreak next day. There was afeeling of restlessness and disquiet throughout Paris. The town wasplacarded with proclamations of Trochu and Ducrot. The latter was a sortof valedictory letter to Paris, saying that he was going out to conqueror 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 werepenned it was intended that the battle should take place on that day, and that the delay was consequent upon a breakdown in the arrangementsand was not the result of any fixed plan. 

Paris for once was serious. Special services were held in all thechurches and these were thronged by citizens and soldiers. Cuthbert wentto the building where a few of the English residents attended servicethroughout the siege. Mary Brander was not present, but as she had saidthe day before that she would be on duty for twenty-four hours, he hadnot 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 andspent the evening with René and Pierre. The next morning, when hedressed himself for parade, he took the precaution of putting on as manyarticles of underclothing as he could button his tunic over. This timethere was no mistake in the orders, as not a few of those who fell inhad hoped in their hearts might be the case. As soon as the corps wasformed up and their arms and ammunition-pouches examined, the word wasgiven and they marched away towards the gate of Charenton and issuedout. Many bodies of troops were converging upon it and the other gateson that side of the city, with trains of ammunition and supply wagons, and there was a delay of an hour before they could pass out. The greaterpart of the force had left the city on the two previous days, and ahundred thousand men under Ducrot were massed in the Bois de Vincennesand between that point and the neck of the loop formed by the Marne. 

The Franc-tireurs were halted near Charenton, and learning that theattack would not take place till night, the colonel took possession ofan empty barn near the village. The men piled their arms outside andmade themselves as comfortable as they could. Now that there was nolonger any doubt that an engagement would take place in a few hours thenatural light-heartedness of the students revived. All had brought withthem a good store of provisions in their haversacks, and each mancarried a thick blanket besides his military cloak. Many of them had, inaddition to their flasks, slipped a bottle of wine into theirhaversacks, and a meal was joyously partaken of, after which pipes werelighted, and with their blankets wrapt round their legs, all wereinclined to agree that campaigning even in winter had its pleasures. 

"We are a deal better off than most of the troops, " Cuthbert said toArnold Dampierre, "it must be bitter in the snow out in the woods, andit 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 inrags and often well-nigh starving. "

"Yes, that must have been a very rough business. It is a great advantagethat we are Franc-tireurs and therefore free, to a great extent, tofollow our own devices. I heard the colonel say that when he had appliedfor orders he was told that none would be given to detached corps likehis, but that now, as at other times, they must make themselves usefulwhen they saw an opportunity. The line are to cross first, then themobile, and then the active battalions of the National Guards. If Ijudge 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 willget 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 endeavoring to find out what was thegeneral plan of operations, returned soon after. The officers gatheredround him. 

"Pontoon bridges will be thrown across the river on both sides of theloop. The pontonners will set to work on them when it is dark. I fancythe real attack will be through Champigny, and that on the other sidewill be more of the nature of a false alarm; so we will go with the mainforce. There are some strong batteries erected in the loop which willprepare the way for us and a big train of field-guns. The troops willbegin to cross at early daylight, so we can't do better than remainwhere we are until five o'clock. Then we will go and take our place nearone 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 inbringing the regiments up, and the first that occurs, we will slip inand get over. The men may as well lie down at once and get a goodnight. "

It needed somewhat close packing for the men to rest themselves, but thecrowding was more than counter balanced by the warmth, and it was notlong before all were asleep. At one o'clock in the morning, they wereawakened by a tremendous cannonade. All the forts round Paris hadsuddenly opened fire upon the German positions. Believing that the enemymust have obtained a knowledge of the approaching sortie and wereanticipating it by assaulting the forts, the colonel ordered the men tostand to their arms. In an hour the firing ceased and all was quietagain. The men, with a little grumbling at being taken out and chilledin the night air, returned to the barn. At four o'clock they were againaroused by the fire being resumed. 

"We may as well be off, lads, " the colonel said, "we have some distanceto march, and it is not worth while to turn in again. "

Between the reports of the guns a dull rumbling sound could be heard. 

"The artillery and train are on the move, " Cuthbert said to René, whowas next to him in the ranks, "so we shall not be too soon if we are totake our share in the early part of the fighting. "

They left the main road and followed the fields, as many of them werewell acquainted with the country, and they had no difficulty in keepingin the right direction. The men marched at ease, each picking his way asbest he could across the ground, which was broken up into smallenclosures and gardens. They halted outside a village on the banks ofthe Marne where one of the pontoon bridges had been thrown across. Herethey piled arms and endeavored to keep themselves warm by stamping theirfeet and swinging their arms. 

Soon after morning dawned, heavy firing broke out suddenly behind them. The colonel had learnt at Charenton that General Vinoy, with 15, 000 men, was to advance from between the southern forts to attack Ville Juif andthe heights of Mesly, so as to induce a concentration of the enemy inthat 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 ofmusketry telling that the advance had begun. The battery on thecommanding position of St. Maur opened in earnest, and was aided byseveral batteries of field artillery, the din being now incessant. Gradually the rattle of musketry became fainter, showing that the Frenchwere driving the enemy back, and a mounted officer riding past told themthat Montmesly was taken. The news raised the spirits of the soldiers tothe highest point, and their impatience was becoming almostuncontrollable, when the order arrived for them to advance, and thetroops at once began to cross the six pontoon bridges that had beenthrown at different points across the Marne. 

"There is no hurry, mes braves, " the colonel said, as the Franc-tireursstamped with impatience as they saw the columns crossing the river, while they remained in enforced inactivity. "At first the troops willcarry all before them as Vinoy's men have done. The fighting will onlycommence in earnest when the Prussians bring up their supports. We shallbe in time for that, never fear. We ought to have begun at daybreak, " hegrowled, in a low voice, to the major, "four precious hours have beenwasted. By this time we ought to have gained at least three or fourmiles of ground; in that case we might have been through the Prussianlines before sunset. Every hour in these short days is of importance. "

Presently the roll of musketry showed that the French skirmishers wereengaged with the German outposts. The Franc-tireurs had by this timemoved down close to the bridge; but it was not until midday that theywere able to cross; then the colonel, taking advantage of a short delayon the part of one of the regiments to come up to the bridge, pushed themen across, and leaving the road took them forward at the double. Bythis time the roar of battle was unbroken. The batteries along theheights behind them, the forts, and the field-guns in advance were allhard at work, the shell flying over the heads of the advancing troopsand bursting in the villages held by the Germans. In front, the rattleof musketry was deafening. Champigny, they learned from a woundedsoldier who was making his way to the rear, had been carried, and thetroops there had pushed some distance forward, but on the leftVilliers-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 hadnot been taken without a severe struggle. The bodies of French soldiersstrewed the ground thickly, and as they passed through the streets, theSaxon uniforms were mingled with those of their assailants. The corpspushed forward until they ascended the low hills behind the village. Here they found the French troops halted. It was evident Ducrot did notintend to advance further until joined by the whole of his command. 

"This is pure madness, " the colonel said; "by to-morrow we shall havefifty thousand Germans in front of us. If Ducrot hasn't got his wholeforce, and his train and ambulances up, he might at least carry Villiersby assault. Of course it could not be done without loss, but what havewe come out for but to fight. We cannot advance as long as they holdthat place, for when their supports come up, as you may be sure theywill 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 workdown by the right. If the German supports come up they are likely toadvance that way, and as I hear no firing in that quarter, we may findsome spot unoccupied by the line. "

The order was given, and the corps marched off, and presently took uptheir position between the river and the French regiment forming theextreme right flank of the advance. In extended order and takingadvantage of every inequality of the ground, they pushed on, and afteradvancing a quarter of a mile, were brought to a standstill by a suddenoutbreak of musketry fire at various points along the crest of a slightrise some six hundred yards in front of them. Taking cover behind a lowwall running at right angles to the river, they opened a dropping firein return. This, however, was at once stopped by the colonel, whohimself went along the line. 

"Don't throw away a shot, lads, " he said, "you may want every cartridgebefore you have done. It will be time enough to begin when they show inforce over that crest. "

There was no more for the men to do than there had been when they werewaiting for their turn to cross the bridge, but they were satisfied, nowthey were in the front line, and within shot of the enemy. The march hadset their blood in circulation, and while two or three of each companykept a keen lookout over the top of the wall, the others laughed andjoked, after first employing themselves in knocking holes through thewall, a few inches above the ground, so that they could lie and firethrough if the enemy advanced. The musketry fire had almost ceased awayto their right, and they hoped that Vinoy had established himself wellout in that direction. Various were the conjectures as to why theadvance had ceased on their own side. Some conjectured that Trochu'splan consisted only in crossing the river and then marching back againin order to accustom the troops to stand fire. One suggested that thegeneral had come out without ink or paper with which to write hisgrandiose proclamations to the Parisians, and they were waiting until ithad been fetched from his office. 

"What do you think, Henri?" René asked the lieutenant. 

"I should say, " he said, gravely, "that when our advance came upon thereal Prussian line of defence, they found it too strong to be carried. They must have known that they could never hold Champigny under the fireof our guns and forts, and used it only as an outpost. Of course it isfrom this side they would think it likely that we should try to breakout, 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, " Cuthbert said, "butI think it may be principally due to the fact that Ducrot can't get histroops across the river. Even with a well-organized army and a goodstaff, and commanding officers who all know their duty, it is a big jobto get a hundred thousand men, with artillery, ambulances, and trainsacross a river. Here, with the exception of Ducrot himself and a few ofthe line officers, nobody knows anything about the matter. By what wesaw, I should think there are not more than twenty thousand men acrossthe river, and the confusion on the other side must be frightful. Weourselves saw that the street of that village was absolutely choked upwith wagons, and I have no doubt all the roads are the same. Of coursethey never ought to have moved forward at all till all the troops wereover. If Trochu really meant to break out, the north is the side wherehe should have tried. The whole force could have been massed between thewalls and St. Denis and have been marched in regular order against thePrussians, with the field-batteries at intervals and the trainsfollowing at a proper distance on the various lines of roads. 

"I hope that is his plan still, and that this attack from the South isonly a feint to draw as many of the Germans as possible over to thisside. We have a tremendous advantage in having this short line to marchacross. If Trochu were to send the train off at once, while we recrossedand followed as soon as it was dark, the whole army might be outside thenorthern wall before morning. To-morrow we might get into position forattack, make all the arrangements, and advance far enough to dashforward at their lines as soon as it is light next day, and withDucrot's and Vinoy's force united, we ought to go right through them. Weshould have 115, 000 men, and I don't suppose they could oppose us with athird of that number. However strong their positions, we ought to beable to carry them if we went at them with a rush. Besides, we shouldhave the guns at the northern forts to help us. At any rate, after thisdelay here, I consider the idea of any further advance in this directionto be out of the question. By to-morrow morning they may have a hundredthousand men facing us, and if we don't recross to-night, we may find itvery difficult business to do so to-morrow. "

"We have got the batteries and forts to cover us, " Henri Vaucour 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 to cross atall, " Pierre Leroux said. "It is cold enough now, but if we are going topass the night here, it will be bitter. "

"There are those houses by the river, we are a good deal nearer to themthan any other troops, " Arnold Dampierre said; "they will hold us if wepack in pretty closely. "

As the afternoon wore on, the colonel sent two officers to inspect thehouses, which were all found to be empty. As soon as he received thereport, he sent twenty men off with orders to cut down hedges and formfagots, and then to light fires in each room. There was no furthermovement. A heavy musketry fire was kept up far away to the left, andthe batteries occasionally fired heavily; but all idea of movement wasevidently abandoned for the day, and the enemy were not in sufficientforce to take the offensive. 

As soon as it became dark, therefore, half a company were left on guardat 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 beencut down and split up into logs. The party on guard were to be relievedevery two hours. As soon as the men were bestowed in their quarters, themajor went off to discover, if possible, what had been the result ofthe fighting on the other side of the loop. It was two hours before hereturned, and the news he brought was dispiriting. 

"I have been up to Creteil, " he said, "and have learnt from the peoplethere 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 madea stand on the crest of Montmesly. But the enemy were reinforced anddrove us down the hill again. Then came a disgraceful panic. Thesoldiers who had fought fairly at first, became a mob; the mobile, whohad not done as well as had been expected, were worse. There was abattalion of the National Guard of Belleville, and the scoundrels ranwithout firing a shot. At Creteil the men absolutely fought to getthrough the street. It was disgraceful. I hear that further to the rightthe line did better, and that we still hold Ville Juif and othervillages well in advance of our old position. That is all I could learn. They say our losses have been pretty heavy; at any rate Creteil is fullof wounded, and the ambulances are taking them into Paris. There isgreat confusion on the other side of the river. The roads are all chokedwith the wagon-trains. Nobody has got any orders, nobody knows what isgoing to be done, no one knows where Ducrot or Trochu are. It is enoughto make one tear one's hair to see such confusion and mismanagement. "

The night passed off quietly. The next day, to the surprise of everyone, things remained unchanged. No effort was made to pass the baggage-trainover the bridges. A portion of the troops had been put under canvas thefirst evening, and save for the dead still lying about, the broken arms, the stains of blood, and the parties engaged in carrying the woundedacross the river to the ambulance wagons, and others burying the dead, the scene differed little from an ordinary encampment. The troopslaughed and jested round the camp-fires, and occupied themselves withtheir cooking; the horses that had been killed were already butskeletons, the flesh having been cut off for food. The advance partieshad been called in, and a barricade thrown up just beyond Champigny, where the advance guard occasionally exchanged shots with the Prussiansa few hundred yards away. Strong parties were at work erecting a seriesof earthworks on the hill. 

The Franc-tireurs fell back from the position they had held the nightbefore, and established themselves in a few houses, half roofless andshattered by shell, between Champigny and the river. Most of the housesin the long straggling street of Champigny bore marks of the conflictthat had raged there before the Saxons had been driven out. Fortunatelylarge stores of straw were found in the village, and these added much tothe comfort of the troops, and the Franc-tireurs carried off a good manytrusses to their quarters. Considerable amounts of other stores werealso discovered there, and were thoroughly appreciated by the soldiersafter their restricted rations. 

They smoked their pipes that evening feeling thankful that as they laybehind Champigny there was no occasion for them to turn out on outpostduty. 

"They say we shall fight again to-morrow for certain, " René said. 

"I think it likely we shall, René, but I should be inclined to bet tento one, that it is the Prussians who will attack. They will have hadforty-eight hours to mass their forces here, and will be fools if theydon't take advantage of the opportunity we have been good enough to givethem. "

Day was just breaking when a sharp rattle of musketry broke out. TheFranc-tireurs sprang to their feet. 

"I should have won my bet, René, if you had taken it, " Cuthbertexclaimed, as he slung his cartridge-box over his shoulder. "They are onus all along the line. "

In less than a minute the rattle of musketry swelled into a continuousroar, above which came the boom of cannon and the explosion of shells inand around Champigny. Just as the corps was formed up, the heavy guns inthe battery of St. Maur behind them opened fire, their deep roarsounding loud above the sharp explosion of the Prussian field-guns. Asthey advanced at the double towards the village, they could see a mob ofpanic-stricken men rushing from the front. 

"The cowards, the vile cowards!" broke from the lips of the men, and assome of the fugitives ran past them, they saluted them with yells andcries of contempt. Fully five thousand panic-stricken men were in wildflight, all rushing towards the bridge. 

"If I were the commander of St. Maur, " René said, "I would turn my gunsupon these cowards. They are greater enemies to France than are thePrussians. "

"Forward, my children, " shouted the old colonel, "let us show them thatthere are still some Frenchmen ready to fight and die for theircountry. "

The officer in command of St. Maur, and the general on the spot, wereequal to the situation. Seventy or eighty field-pieces were massed roundthe redoubt, and a tremendous fire opened upon the Prussian batteriesout on the plain, while a strong guard was sent down to the end of thebridge to bar the way to the mob of fugitives. The Germans had alreadyobtained possession of the other end of the village when theFranc-tireurs entered it, but a small body of troops were standing firm. Some barricades thrown up across the street were manned, and from theseand from every house they replied to the fire of the advancingPrussians. But the latter were still pushing on, wresting house by housefrom their hands, while a hail of shell from the German batteries fellupon the part of the village still held by the French. As theFranc-tireurs advanced the colonel ordered one company to wheel off oneither hand to occupy the gardens behind the houses, and so prevent theenemy from taking the defenders in the rear. He himself pressed forwarddown the street to aid the soldiers at the barricades. 

The sun had by this time risen, and its light, glinting on the Prussianhelmets, showed strong bodies advancing down the slopes into thevillage. The woods on either hand were still held by the French, but theirregular fire showed that they were not in strong force. The din wasterrific, three or four of the French mitrailleuses were adding to theroar, and sending streams of bullets into the advancing Germans. Nervedby the desperation of the situation, and fiercely angered at thecowardice of their countrymen, the young artists of Cuthbert's companydashed forward, climbing walls, bursting through hedges, burning witheagerness to meet the foe. 

The Prussian shells were bursting all round, bullets sang above andaround them, the rattle of musketry grew louder and fiercer, but therewas not a moment's check until François des Valles shouted to them tohalt 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 theothers try and get some stones out of the wall and make loop-holes. "

As yet they had not been seen by the Germans, and these were but fiftyyards away in a thick line of skirmishers, when Des Valles gave theword, and the Franc-tireurs, rising on one knee and resting theirmuskets on the wall, opened a steady fire upon them. Many fell, andtaken by surprise the rest ran back to a wall some thirty yards in rearand thence opened a heavy fire. 

"Lie down, lads, " Des Valles shouted, and all set to work to loop-holethe 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 thewall, and lying at full length a yard apart, replied to the enemy'sfire. Through the smoke they could just make out the upper line of thewall, and as the Prussians stood up to fire picked them off. HenriVaucour crept along the line urging the men to fire slowly. 

"They will advance presently, " he said. "You can tell by the fire thatthey are getting thicker and thicker. We must check their rush. "

Five minutes later there was a deep cheer and a crowd of dark figuresleaped over the wall. A flash of fire ran along the line of defenders, and then as fast as the Chassepots could be reloaded a rolling firebroke out. So heavy was it that before crossing a third of theintervening space the Germans wavered, hesitated, and then ran back totheir shelter. 

"Bravo! bravo!" Des Valles shouted, springing to his feet in hisexcitement, but as he spoke the enemy's fire broke out again, "Vive laFrance!" he shouted, and then fell heavily backwards. 

His fall was noticed only by those nearest to him, for the Franc-tireurswere all busy. The rattle of musketry in the houses to their rightshowed that the French were still holding their own. 

The Germans were apparently waiting for reinforcements before theyattempted another rush against the position held by their invisiblefoes. They in turn loop-holed the wall they held and the musketry duelcontinued. Between the walls were two lines of low hedges, but theleaves had fallen and each party could see the loopholes through whichtheir opponents fired. Henri Vaucour, who was now in command, orderedhalf the men to crawl back to the next wall some fifty paces in the rearand to loop-hole that. 

"The next time they come, " he said, "they will be too strong for us andwe must fall back. " The remainder of the men he placed near the two endsof the wall, so that as they fell back their comrades behind could opentheir fire and so cover their retreat. It was another quarter of an hourbefore the Germans made a move. Then a great body of men sprang over thewall. Forty rifles were discharged simultaneously, then Henri's whistlerang out. The men leaped to their feet, and at the top of their speedran to the wall behind them, from which their comrades were pouring astream of fire into the Germans. Several fell as they ran, the rest ongaining the wall threw themselves over, and as soon as they had reloadedjoined its defenders. The Germans, however, were still pressing on, whenthey were taken in flank by a heavy fire from the back of the housesheld by the French, and they got no farther than the wall that had justbeen vacated. Then the musketry duel recommenced under the sameconditions as before. The company had already lost thirty men, ten layby the wall they had defended, killed by bullets that had passed throughthe loop-holes; eight more were stretched on the ground that they hadjust 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 theact of firing. He had felt a stinging blow but had thought little of ituntil he had taken his position behind the second wall. 

"Tie my handkerchief over this, René, " he said, "fortunately it is onlythe left hand, and a finger more or less makes little odds. Where isDampierre? I don't see him. "

"I am afraid he is lying under that wall there, " Rend said; "at any rateI don't see him here; he ought to be the third man from me. Minette willgo out of her mind if he is killed, " but they had no further time fortalking, and as soon as his hand was bandaged, Cuthbert took his placeat a loophole. 

"I think things are better, " he said, after a few minutes, to Rend. "Theshells are not falling round us as they did. The heavy guns at St. Maurmust have silenced the German batteries, and I fancy, by the heavyfiring from the other end of the village, that we have been reinforced. "

This was indeed the case. For some time the Prussians continued to makeobstinate efforts to advance, but gradually the number of defenders ofthe village increased, as the French officers managed to rally smallparties of the fugitives at the bridge and led them forward again, theirefforts being aided by the mounted gendarmes, who, riding among thesoldiers, beat them with the flat of their swords, and literally drovethem forward again. 

By eleven o'clock the line of the Franc-tireurs had been thickened bythe fresh arrivals, and the roar of rifles along the wall wascontinuous. The French, who had hitherto fought silently, now began tocheer, and when a regiment came up in something like fair order throughthe gardens, its colonel shouted, "Forward men, and drive the Germansout. "

With a cheer of anticipated triumph those who had so stubbornly defendedthe position sprang up, and the whole rushed forward against the enemy. A tremendous volley flashed from the wall in front of them. Cuthbertfelt that he was falling. The thought flashed through his mind that hisfoot had caught in something, and then he knew nothing more. When herecovered consciousness he was lying with a score of others on the floorof a kitchen. There was a gaping hole in the roof and loop-holes in thewalls, but of this at present he saw nothing. A man with a lantern wasstanding beside him? while another was doing something, he didn't knowwhat, to him. 

"What is it?" he muttered. 

"You are wounded, mon brave, and seriously I am afraid, but notfatally--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 notstand 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, " Cuthbert said. "I am an Englishman and have friends there. "

"I will manage it if I can for you, lad. Your corps has done splendidlyto-day. Everyone says if it had not been for you, Champigny would havebeen lost. So you well deserve anything I can do for you. "

The desperate defence of Champigny had indeed saved that portion of theFrench army across the river from destruction. It had given time for thefugitives to rally, and as if ashamed of the panic to which they hadgiven way, they had afterwards fought steadily and well, and had driventhe Germans back beyond the line they had occupied the night before, Brie-sur-Marne being now in the possession of the French, having beencarried by a desperate assault, in which General Ducrot led the way atthe head of the troops. During the various operations they had lostabout 1, 000 killed and 5, 000 wounded. 

The four days that had elapsed since Mary Brander had said good-bye toCuthbert at the entrance to the ambulance, had effected a marked changein 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 theskirmishes at the outposts. During the last few days the beds had beencleared 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 ofwhich she had charge, the American surgeon put his hand upon hershoulder. 

"You are no better, Miss Brander, " he said. "This is too much for you. Idid not expect to see you break down, for I have noticed that yournerves were as steady as those of an old hospital nurse. Though younaturally lost your color, when standing by with the sponge at some ofthose operations, there was no flinching or hesitation; but I see that, though you did not show it at the time, it has told upon you. I shall besorry to lose your services, especially at the present moment; but Ithink you had better give it up for a time. We have plenty ofvolunteers, you know. "

"I will stay on, if you please, Dr. Swinburne. It is not the work, butthe suspense, that has upset me. One has been expecting this dreadfulbattle to begin for the last three days, and to know that at any momentnow 200, 000 men may fly at each other, and that thousands upon thousandsmay be killed is almost too awful to think about. The silence seems sooppressive, one knows that they are gathering and preparing, and thatwhile all seems so still, we may suddenly hear the roar of the cannonall round. I think when it once begins I shall be myself again. It isthe waiting that is so oppressive. "

"I can understand that, " he said, kindly. "It is the same thing with thetroops themselves. It is the pause before a great battle that shakes thenerves of the men. As soon as the work begins the feeling passes off andthe man who, a few minutes before, was as weak as a child, feels theblood rushing hotly through his veins, and the burning desire to get athis enemy overpowers all sense of danger. Well, as there is reallynothing for you to do to-day, for there are three of you in this tentand 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 interestyourself in what you see passing round you. From what I hear thefighting will not begin until to-morrow morning, and it must be later inthe day before the wounded begin to come in. So, though you can returnand take charge again to-night if you like, there will be really nooccasion for you to do so until to-morrow, say at twelve o'clock; butmind, unless you are looking a good deal better, I shall send you offagain; my assistants will need all their nerve for the work we arelikely to have on hand. Indeed, I must beg you to do so, Miss Brander, nothing is so trying as sitting in idleness. I shall really want yourservices to-morrow, and for my own sake, as well as yours, I must insistupon my orders being obeyed. "

Mary Brander conscientiously tried to carry out the doctor'sinstructions, walked briskly along the Boulevards, and then going up theChamps Elysées, and turning to the left, went to the edge of the plateauabove the river, and there sat down on a bench and looked over thecountry to the south. There were many groups of people gathered at thispoint; most of them, doubtless, like herself, had friends in the armygathered outside the walls, and were too anxious and restless to remainindoors; but although her eyes were fixed on the country beyond theforts, Mary Brander did not take in the scene. She was thinking, as shehad been for the last two days, and was full of regrets for the past. She had not altogether admitted this to herself, but she knew now thatit was so, although she had fought hard and angrily with herself beforeshe owned it. 

"He was right, " she said to herself bitterly, "when he said that I hadnot yet discovered that I had a heart as well as a head. We aremiserable creatures, we women. A man can go straight on his way throughlife--he can love, he can marry, but it makes no change in his course. Iknow 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 theidea then as absurd--now that it is too late I see it is true. He lovedme, or, at least he liked me so much that he thought it was love. Ilaughed at him, I told him he was not worthy of a woman's love. He wentaway. Here was an end of it, as far as he was concerned. He lost hisproperty and took to work nobly, and when we met he was just the same ashe had been before, and treated me as if I had been a cousin, and has nodoubt laughed many a time at the thought of that morning in the gardenat Newquay, and indeed thought so little of it that he did not mind myseeing all those sketches of that woman in his note-books. 

"There were three or four of them, too, stuck up on the walls of hisroom. Of course she goes there. He said she was a model. Of course he isfond of her. I should not have thought it of him, but men are wicked andwomen are fools, " she added, after a pause, "and I do think that I amone of the most foolish of them. I am like a child who throws away a toyone minute and cries for it the next. It is horrid, and I am ashamed ofmyself, downright ashamed. I hate myself to think that just because aman is nice to me, and leaves me two pictures if he is killed, that I amto make myself miserable about him, and to feel that I could give up allmy plans in life for his sake. I understand now how it is that women arecontent to remain what they are. It is because nature made them so. Weare like weathercocks, and have no fixed point, but can be turned by apassing breath. 

"We have no rights because we are content to remain slaves. Here is mylife spoilt. A week ago I was my own mistress and felt as free andindependent as any man; now a thrill runs through me at evercannon-shot. The things that had seemed so important to me then do notoccupy a thought now. However, I hope I am not quite a fool. I shallshake it off in time perhaps, " and she smiled pitifully, "it will evendo me good. I shall understand things better. Anna used to tell me I wasintolerant and made no allowance for human nature. I laughed then, butshe was right. When this is all over I shall go away. I don't suppose Ishall ever see him again, and I will make up my mind not to think of himany more. I wonder what he is doing now, whether his corps went out lastnight or will go to-day. I hope they won't be in front. They have noright to put volunteers in front when they have got regular soldiers. Itis downright wicked that he should have enlisted when it was no businessof his. I wonder she let him do it. "

Then she broke off, rose to her feet suddenly, and with an angryexclamation, "Mary Brander, you are a weak fool, " she started back at aquick pace and with head erect. Again she walked round the Boulevards, and having thoroughly tired herself, made her way home, drank a cup ofbouillon made from horse-flesh, went straight to bed and sobbed herselfto sleep. She woke up with a start. The house shook with the explosionof heavy guns. She sprang up and went to her window, threw it open, andlooked out. 

She could see Forts Issy and Vanvres. Both were firing heavily, whilebetween the booms of their guns she could hear the reports of others. Noflashes came back from Meudon or any of the Prussian positions. Nor, though she held her breath to listen, could she hear the sound ofmusketry. She struck a match and looked at her watch. It was but oneo'clock. She closed her window and wrapping herself up in herdressing-gown sat there for some time looking out. Presently the fireslackened and she crept back into bed, but again rose when the fortsre-opened fire. Then feeling that sleep was impossible she lighted acandle and forced herself to read until daylight. She was dressing whenthe roar again broke out. This time it was away to the left. She threwon her things, put on her bonnet and cloak, and went out of her roomjust as M. Michaud issued from his. 

"You are going out, mademoiselle. So am I. I will walk with you if youwill allow me. I think the real thing has begun. The firing last nightwas only, I fancy, to rouse the Germans and make them pass as bad anight 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 havesomeone to speak to. In a few minutes they reached the spot where shehad sat the day before. A crowd were already collected. 

"Where is it?" M. Michaud asked, as they joined a group who weregathered 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 forour men. There, do you see that puff of smoke away on the right? That isfrom a battery up at Creteil, and now the Prussian guns on Montmesly, and all the way round Ville Juif, are answering. The affair is becominghot. Listen, the Chassepots are at work. "

Indeed, between the sounds of the cannon a continuous murmur could beheard. It sounded like a railway train passing over 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 isallowed there; half the National Guard are under arms, and have takenthe places on the walls of the mobiles, who have gone out. "

"It is wretched seeing nothing here, " she said, feverishly. "Do youthink we could get up to the top of the tower of Notre Dame?"

"It is a long way off, " M. Michaud said, "and if people are permittedthere 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 themovements of the troops. "

Mary felt that he was right, and with a little shiver said, "I willhurry back now and will then go down to the ambulance. "

She swallowed a cup of coffee in which two eggs from the hidden storehad been beaten up; ate a piece of bread, and then started off. As shewent along she gathered from the talk in the streets that things werebelieved to be going on well. The musketry was certainly a good dealfurther off, and a light smoke was rising fur out upon the plain. "Theysay that we have captured Montmesly, and on this side cannot be far fromVille Juif. "

"Ah, these Prussians have begun to learn what Paris can do. "

"I expect William and Bismarck are by this time packing up atVersailles, " another said. "They will know that their day has come to anend; everyone says they will both be hung if we catch them. "

Mary hurried on. She knew that hours must elapse before the woundedcould be brought in, but felt a feverish anxiety to be at the ambulanceand to hear what was said there. Just before she reached it the roar ofthe distant combat suddenly increased, but it seemed to her further awayto the left. Dr. Swinburne was standing outside the tents when she cameup. 

"Do you know what is going on, sir?" she asked, breathlessly, as shecame up to him. 

"I believe that the first firing you heard was the advance of Vinoy, whomoved out under cover of the guns of the southern forts. From all I hearhe has advanced a considerable distance across the plain. I believe thatthe firing that has just begun away to the west, is the real battle. Ducrot is out there with 100, 000 men, and Vinoy's attack is but a feintto draw the Prussians to the south, and so clear the way for Ducrot, whocrosses the Marne and advances through Champigny. I heard the plan lastnight from one of Trochu's staff. It seems a good one, and if it iscarried out with spirit I see no reason why it should not succeed. Yourrest has done you good, Miss Brander; your eyes are brighter and youlook more like yourself. "

"I feel better, Doctor. I have been rating myself soundly and it hasdone me good. I feel quite ready for work again. "

The doctor detected a little pathetic ring beneath the almost defianttone in which she uttered the words, but he only said--

"We all have need of a scolding occasionally, it acts as a tonic. Ishould rather like to be braced up myself for to-night's work. "

"It is too bad, " Mary said, almost indignantly. "You are alwaysinsisting on our resting ourselves and you have all the work on yourshoulders. 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, andhis aid will be invaluable when the rush comes. Besides, a surgeon, after the first operation or treatment, has little more to do than towatch his patient, if he has nurses that he can rely upon. As he goeshis rounds he gets their reports, he knows how the patients have passedthe night, and if there is any change in their condition, and if thewounds require rebandaging you are at hand with all that is necessary. It is the responsibility rather than the work which tries one. Still, ifone knows that one is doing one's best, and that at any rate the woundedare very much better cared for, and have much better chances of recoveryhere than in the city hospitals, one must be content. Worry does no goodeither to one's patients or to oneself. That is a maxim that does forboth of us, Miss Brander. Now you had better go in and get everythingready. It is probable that some of those wounded early this morning maysoon be brought in. "

Mary went in to her marque. 

"The child is herself on the list of wounded, " the surgeon said, as helooked after her. "She has been fighting a battle of some sort and hasbeen hit pretty hard. Her expression has changed altogether. There was abrisk alertness about her before and she went about her work in aresolute business sort of way that was almost amusing in a girl ofnineteen or twenty. It was easy to see that she had good health, plentyof sense, and an abundant confidence in herself. At one moment she wouldbe lecturing her patients with the gravity of a middle-aged woman, andfive minutes later chattering away with them like a young girl. I shouldhave put her down as absolutely heartwhole and as never havingexperienced the slightest real care or trouble, as never having quiterecognized that she had grown into womanhood. Well, something hasoccurred to alter all that. She has received a blow of some sort, andthough she may soon get over it she will never be quite the same as shewas before. If one wasn't so weighed down with work, and had so manyserious matters to think of, she would be an interesting study. I neverquite understood what on earth she is in Paris for by herself at such atime as this. But there is something that will give me other matters tothink of. "

The something was an ambulance wagon which, a minute later, drew up infront of the hospital, and from that moment there was, indeed, no timefor doctor or nurses to give a thought to anything save the wounded menwho continued to pour in until fully half the 200 beds were occupied. All these men belonged to Vinoy's division. Dr. Swinburne would take nomore. There was already more work to do than he could get through beforenext morning, and none of the wounded who came in later from beyond theMarne were received there, but were distributed among the otherhospitals and ambulances, at all of which preparations on a very largescale had been made. 

By morning the most pressing part of the work had been done. The woundedhad been made as far as possible comfortable. Some of the bullets hadbeen extracted, some of the most urgent amputations made. A fresh batchof nurses arrived to take the places of the white-faced women who hadnobly and steadily-borne their part in the trying work of the night. 

"I thank you all, ladies, " the doctor said, as they gathered outside thetents before going away. "Your assistance has been invaluable; notrained 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 renewalof the fighting to-day, and you can therefore go home with theconviction that you can take your twenty-four hours off duty withoutfear that there will be any pressure in your absence. I am going to liedown myself for three hours. Even a surgeon has nerves, and I must keepmine steady. There are several operations that must be performed thisafternoon and some bullets to hunt up. I beg you all to force yourselvesto take something as soon as you get to your homes, and then to go tobed and sleep as long as you can. "

It did not seem to Mary Brander when she started that she would be ableto walk home, but the keen air revived her and she kept on until sheentered Madame Michaud's flat. 

"Mon Dieu, my child, how white you look, " the French lady exclaimed, asthe girl entered the room where she was taking her morning coffee. "Whata night you must have had!"

The need for strength was past now, and Mary sank into a chair and burstinto a fit of hysterical sobbing. Madame Michaud caressed and soothedher as if she had been an over-tired child. 

"There, " she said, when Mary recovered a little, "take this cup ofcoffee and drink it. I have not touched it and there are two eggs beatenup in it. Margot will make me some more in a few minutes. Here is afresh 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. "

Mary, with a great effort, ate a mouthful of bread, and drank thecoffee, and in a quarter of an hour was asleep. It was growing dark whenshe woke, and remembering the doctor's orders she got up and went intothe sitting-room. Madame Michaud kissed her affectionately. 

"Now, you are looking more like yourself, my child; truly you lookedlike a ghost when you came in. It is the husband's turn for duty on thewalls 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 everywhereand Trochu's proclamation says the plans have been carried out exactlyas arranged. There has not been much fighting to-day, we have hardly hada gun fired. Everyone is rejoicing, and all the world agrees that nowthe Prussians have seen how we can fight they will speedily takethemselves off altogether. "

"I hope it is so, Madame Michaud; certainly the wounded said that theyhad advanced a long way on the south side, but I have not heard at allwhat was done on the other side of the Marne. None of the wounded fromthere were brought to our hospital. 

"Champigny was taken. They say that there was a hard fight there and wepushed the Prussians back beyond it ever so far, " and Madame Michaud'sarms expressed illimitable distance. 

"I suppose there are no reports as to what regiments were engaged, " Maryasked. 

"Oh, no, but everyone says that the soldiers fought like lions and thatthe National Guard was splendid. "

"There were none of the National Guards brought in wounded to ourambulance, " 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 eastgates. "

"Yes, that was where Ducrot commanded and that was where the great fightwas to be, " Madame Michaud said, complacently; "no doubt he wanted tohave the National Guards there. "

Mary, having, as the result of her own observations and from imbibingthe very pronunced opinions of Cuthbert as to the efficiency of theNational Guard, formed an estimate the reverse of favorable to thatbody, made no reply, but indeed derived some little comfort from a pointof view diametrically opposed to that of Madame Michaud, saying toherself that Trochu probably sent the National Guard with Ducrot becauseit was not likely that they would be called upon to do any seriousfighting there. 

"Won't you let the boys in, Madame Michaud?" she said, changing thesubject. "I think their chatter would do me good, my brain seems stupidstill. "

The boys were brought in from the next room, where they were doing theirlessons. They were full of the reports they had gathered from theirschool-fellows, and if but half of these had been true it was evidentthat the remnant of the German army were in full flight towards thefrontier, and that the bravest deeds of antiquity faded intoinsignificance by the side of the heroism displayed by the Frenchsoldiers. Their talk and excitement had the effect of rousing Mary andpreventing her thoughts reverting to the scene in the ambulance, and athalf-past nine she again went off to bed feeling more like herself thanshe had done for some days. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Mary Brander was, as usual, called before daylight by Margot, and wasdressing when a sound like the rumbling of a heavy wagon, caused her topause suddenly, and then hurry to the window and throw it open. 

"They have begun again, " she exclaimed, "and the firing is heavier thanit was before. It comes from the east. It must be Trochu's force engagedagain. "

She hastily completed her toilet, drank off the coffee Margot had gotready 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 openas she went along, and women in various states of dishabille weretalking excitedly to each other from the former across the street; whilethe men, equally excited, were discussing the battle in groups. Allagreed that the forts in the loop of the Marne were engaged. This causedsome disappointment. 

"We can't be so far out as we thought, " one said, "or we should bebeyond range of the guns. "

"Perhaps the Germans are attacking us, " an old man suggested, but theidea was received with derision, and Mary caught no more of theconversation as she hurried along. 

It was an absolute relief to her when she entered the ambulance, for thecontinued roar of the guns and the thought of what was going on werewell nigh intolerable to her nerves, and her hands were shaking as sheremoved her bonnet and cloak. Even the quiet hospital tents shared inthe excitement outside. The patients whose hurts were comparativelyslight were sitting up in their beds discussing the battle eagerly. Others more seriously hurt raised their heads to listen, while somelying apparently unconscious moaned and moved uneasily, mutteringoccasionally incoherent words, the quiver in earth and air arousing adim sense of battle and danger. 

"More work for us, " Dr. Swinburne said, as he passed her, while she wastrying to soothe a restless patient into quiet again. 

"I am afraid so, Doctor, and by the sound it will be even worse than thelast. "

"The loss is not always proportionate to the noise, " he said, cheerfully, "the forts may be merely preparing a way for a generaladvance. 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 theGermans who were attacking; the French had been surprised and badlybeaten. But later on the news was better. Champigny had been noblydefended, the French had rallied, and, after hard fighting, thePrussians were driven back and all the ground lost recovered. Some ofthe wounded had been among those who had defended Champigny. To theseMary put the question she had asked of others who were not too severelywounded to be able to talk. "Who had taken part in the fight?" Themobiles and the line had all been engaged. 

"But there were no National Guards, Nurse. "

"Had they seen any Franc-tireurs?"

Hitherto the answer to the question had been, no; but the men fromChampigny gave a different answer. 

Yes, a corps had fought there; they did not know who they were. Theywere dressed in gray. Whoever they were they fought like tigers. It wasthey, they all agreed, who saved Champigny. 

"The Prussians were advancing, " one said, "and we could not have heldout much longer. They were advancing by the road, and through thegardens; it was all over with us, when the men in gray came up. "

"I was at the barricade, " one said, "there were not twenty of us leftthere when a company arrived. If they had fought in a hundred battlesthey could not have done better. They had their colonel with them. Afine old militaire. He was killed by my side. The Prussians never got afoot further, for though we were hard pressed again and again we heldour ground till the cowards, who had run, began to come back again. Itwas 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 allup with them if the batteries had not silenced their guns. "

"I was in one of the houses, " his comrade put in; "we were doing ourbest to prevent the Prussians coming up through the gardens behind, butthere were but few of us, and they were some hundreds strong. If theyhad gone on they would have caught us all in a trap, and we were justgoing to warn the others to fall back when we saw the Franc-tireurs comerunning up. They were smart fellows as well as brave ones. They knockedloopholes through a wall in no time and clung to it for an hour, atleast. Then the Prussians were reinforced heavily. The Franc-tireursfell back to the next wall, and when the Prussians rushed forward, theygave it them hotly while we took them in flank from the houses; theymust have a hundred and fifty men left behind them when they rushed backto 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 upafter the fighting was over and the Prussians driven back, we gave thema hearty cheer. I believe there were three companies of them when theycame up, and altogether there were not more than a strong companyparaded. You must not think that all the others were killed, mad'moiselle, " seeing by Mary's face that the news was terrible to her. "Of those who didn't parade you may reckon that two-thirds were onlywounded. "

"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 themwere serious, though they did their best to make light of it, and wavedtheir caps when we cheered them. You may be sure that those who weremissing 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 braveryand how white her face came, when I said what their losses were. I triedto comfort her by making out that most of the missing might be onlywounded, and then, imbecile that you are, you break in with your talkand as good as tell her that if they ain't all dead, they are likely tobe so before long. "

"I would have bit my tongue out before I would have said so, " the othersaid, penitently, "but I did not notice her looks. Do you think I wouldhave said it if I had, just as she had been bandaging our wounds, too, like a little mother. "

The Franc-tireurs remained in the village all night, and as soon as theyfell out had scattered over the whole ground, collected the dead andlaid them together and brought the wounded into the houses. 

The soldier's estimate was not far wrong; the number of the deadexceeded 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 head by bullets through the loopholes, behind whichthey were firing; but of those hit during the retreat, or when at lastthey took the offensive, many of the wounds, though of a disabling, werenot of a fatal nature. The company on the other side of the village hadnot been pressed so severely, but the Prussian shell had fallen thicklythere, and a large proportion of the wounds were caused by fragments ofshell or stone. The company which held the barricade had comparativelyfew wounded, but had lost half their number by bullets through the headas they fired over its crest. 

It was hard work, indeed, for the surgeons and nurses that night. Formany nothing could be done, they were beyond the reach of surgical aid;but not only was there the work of bandaging wounds, but of giving drinkand soup to all that could take them, of writing down last messages tofriends from those among the dying who retained their consciousness, orin aiding Dr. Swinburne and his assistant in their work, and intemporarily bandaging the wounds of those for whom nothing else could bedone till daylight. At eight o'clock next morning an ambulance wagondrew 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 ofthem had particularly wished to be brought up to your ambulance, and asthe 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 thegentlemen who aided in the service of the ambulance, asked him, "Do youknow, Wilson, how many have died in the night?"

"Eight or ten, Doctor. "

"Well, get Phillips and Grant to help you to carry out six of them; laythem in that empty tent for the present. As soon as you have done thatbring the six wounded in from the wagon outside. "

In a few minutes the injured men were brought in. 

"Ah, they are Franc-tireurs, " the doctor said. 

"They are Franc-tireurs des Écoles, " the orderly, who had accompaniedthem, said; "the surgeon said they were all students. They deserve goodtreatment, 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 any rate in pairs. Theyare students of the University, the art schools, and so on. If there arenot two empty beds together put them anywhere for the present; we canshift the beds about in a day or two when we get breathing-time. "

"There are two vacant beds in No. 2 marque, Doctor. "

The doctor stepped to the litter that had just been carried in. Itsoccupant was sensible. 

"Is there any one of your comrades you would prefer to be placed in thebed next to you?" he asked in French. 

"Yes, Doctor, " he replied in English. "The tall fellow who was next tome in the wagon. I am a countryman of yours, and he is an Englishman, and we are in the same art school. "

"An American?" Dr. Swinburne replied. "I am glad, indeed, they broughtyou here. You may be sure that we will do everything we can to make youcomfortable. I will attend to you directly I have seen the othersbrought in. "

Mary Brander's heart gave a bound as she saw the wounded man brought in, for she recognized the uniform at once. A glance, however, at the darkhead reassured her. As soon as the stretcher was laid down by the bedwhich-was the last in the line, and the wounded man was lifted on to itshe 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 myright arm is useless, my collar-bone is broken, I believe, and myshoulder-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 youguess it. "

"I have heard of you from a friend of mine, Cuthbert Harrington. Can youtell me, sir, if he is hurt?"

"Then you must be Miss Brander. Yes, I am sorry to say he is hurt. Idon't know how badly, " he went on hurriedly, as he saw the look of painin her face. "I did not see him until we were put in the wagon next toeach other, and he was not much up to talking, and in fact its motionwas too much for him and he fainted, but no doubt he will soon comeround. They are bringing him into the next bed. Perhaps it will bebetter for you if you were to let one of the other nurses attend to himuntil he comes round a bit. "

But Mary shook her head silently. She had been trembling as she askedthe 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 litterto the ground. Then she hurried to the table on which the glasses werestanding, poured some brandy into a tumbler, and was turning when thesurgeon entered the tent. She put down the glass, hurried up to him, andlaid a fluttering hand on his arm. 

"Come, Doctor; please come quickly. "

A momentary flash of surprise crossed his face. However, he said nothingbut quickened his steps and stood by the pallet on to which Cuthbert hadjust been lifted. A shade passed over his face; he put his hand onCuthbert's wrist, then knelt down and placed his ear over his heart. 

"Is he dead?" 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 faintedfrom the jolting of the wagon just as many others that you have seenhave done. Fetch that brandy you have just poured out. He is hard hit, "and he pointed to a bloodstained patch in his shirt just above thewaistband of his trousers. "There is no doubt about that, but we shallknow 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 menlive with similar wounds. "

He took the glass from Mary's hands as she returned and poured a littlebetween Cuthbert's lips. Then he listened to the heart's beating again. 

"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. AskMrs. Stanmore to come here. I must try and find out where the bullet hasgone. " As she moved away he went on, "Wait here a minute, Wilson, Ishall want to turn him over directly. Now for the wound. Ah! I thoughtso!" as he removed a lightly fastened bandage and lifted a pad of lintbeneath it. 

"There has been no bleeding since he was taken up. No doubt he fellforward at first. Now turn him over. Ah, the bullet has gone rightthrough! 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 asimple 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 andother 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 dropsof carbolic acid on to them, placed one in each orifice, put pads oflint over them, and passed a bandage twice round the body to keep themin place. 

"Thank you, Wilson, that will do for the present. Please pour a littlestrong brandy and water down his throat, Mrs. Stanmore. Now I will seeto the next man. How are you hurt? In the shoulder, I see, by yourbandages. "

"I was lying down behind a wall, Doctor, and raised myself slightly tofire through a loophole when a bullet came through. I heard the surgeonsay that it had smashed the collar-bone, and had gone out through thebone behind. I don't know what he called it, but it is what I shouldcall the shoulder-bone. "

"Well, in that case you are in luck, " the surgeon said, "if it hadglanced more downwards you would have been a dead man five minutes afteryou 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 ismore than I can say for some of those who have sent me in specimens oftheir handiwork. For the present there is nothing for you to do but tolie quiet. I will have a look at you again later, there are so manycases that must be attended to at once. "

"I am in no hurry, I can assure you, Doctor. I suffered too much whenthey bandaged me to want a repetition of it until it is absolutelynecessary. "

The doctor nodded and then hurried off to visit the men who had beencarried off into the other marquees. As he pushed aside the flaps at theentrance he stopped abruptly, for a few yards away Mary Brander waslying insensible on the ground, now covered with a light sprinkle ofsnow that had fallen in the morning. 

"Poor little girl!" he said, as he raised her in his arms, and carriedher into his own tent and placed her in a rocking-chair, "this affaircoming on the top of the work last night has been too much for her. " Hewent into the next marque. 

"Miss Betham, " he said to one of the nurses, "Miss Brander has justbroken 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 makeher 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 thewards again and she is not to leave my tent until I have seen her. Thereis no getting a conveyance, and she won't be fit to walk home for sometime. "

An hour later Dr. Swinburne snatched a moment from his work and lookedin at his tent. Mary sprang up from the bed as he entered. 

"That is right, my dear, " he said, "I see you are active again. I amsure you will be glad to hear that the patient you called me to hasrecovered consciousness. The bullet passed right through him, which is agood sign. So that trouble is disposed of. As to the future I can saynothing as yet. Of course it depends upon what damage the ball did onits way through. However, I am inclined to view the case favorably. Ican only judge by his face, and, although it is, of course, white anddrawn, there is not that ashen sort of pallor which is almost a suresign of injury to vital parts. "

"Then you think there is some hope, Doctor, " she asked, with her handslightly clasped before her. 

"Honestly, I think there is. He must, of course, be kept absolutely freefrom anything like agitation, and if you think your presence is likelyto agitate him in the slightest degree, I should say that when you cometo work again you had better exchange into one of the other wards. "

"It will not agitate him in the least, Doctor, " she said, after amoment's pause, "I can answer for that. We are old friends, for he hasknown me since I was a little child; we are more like cousins thananything else, and if he knows which ambulance he is in, I am sure hewill be surprised if I do not come to him. "

"I think it is likely he will guess, " Dr. Swinburne said, "when he hearsthe nurses speaking English; and, indeed, it seems that either he or oneof 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 himfor a short time; but remember that you are not fit for nursing and thatthe sooner you are able to get home again the better. You have been onduty more than twenty-four hours and it has been a terribly trying timefor 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 thinksuspense is harder to bear than anything. You will see I shan't breakdown again. "

"If you do, Miss Brander, remember I shall have to take your name offthe list of nurses. We have enough to do and think about here withouthaving fainting young ladies on our hands. " He spoke gravely, but Marysaw he was not really in earnest. 

"I never thought, " she said, "that I should come under the category of afainting young lady, and I feel humiliated. Then I may go in, Doctor?"

"Yes, if you are sure of yourself and are certain that it won't agitatehim. "

A minute later she stood by Cuthbert's side. He was lying on his backwith his eyes open. A hospital rug had been thrown over him. As shebent 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 voiceso low that she could scarce hear it. "Well, you see, I brought my eggsto a bad market, and your friends, the Prussians, have given me a lessonI would not learn from you. But we beat them fairly and squarely, thereis a satisfaction 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 asoldier it makes all the difference as he lies wounded, whether he hasshared in a victory or suffered in a defeat. "

"Then I am very glad that you have won if it makes any difference toyou, Cuthbert. Now you know you have to lie very still, and I am suretalking is very bad for you. "

"I don't suppose it makes any difference one way or the other, Mary. Afew hours, perhaps, but whether it is to-day or to-morrow isimmaterial. "

"You must not talk like that, Cuthbert, and you must not think so. Thedoctor says that although, of course, you are badly wounded, he thinksthere is every hope for you. "

"So the surgeon said who dressed my wounds last night, Mary, but I knewthat he did not really think so. "

"But I am sure Dr. Swinburne does think so, Cuthbert. I am certain thathe was not trying to deceive me. "

"Well, I hope that he is right, " Cuthbert replied, but with theindifference common to men in extreme weakness. "I should certainly liketo give the finishing touches to those two pictures. There is nothingelse to show for my life. Yes, I should like to finish them. You arelooking bad yourself, " he added, suddenly, "all this is too much foryou. "

"I am only tired, " she said, "and of course it has been trying work forthe last twenty-four hours. "

"Well, you must go home and get some rest. If I had been going soon Ishould have liked you to have stopped with me till I went, but if, asyou say, the doctor thinks I may last for a time it does not matter, andI would rather know that you were getting a rest than that you werewearing yourself out here. What o'clock is it now?"

"It is just two. Please don't worry about me. If I were to break downthere are plenty to take my place, but I am not going to. Anyhow I shallwait to hear what Dr. Swinburne says when he next comes round, and thenif the report is favorable I shall go home for the night and be hereagain 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, andmy feet are cold. "

Mary went away, filled a tin bottle with hot water and placed it at hisfeet, and then covered them over with another rug. 

"Now you must not talk any more, Cuthbert. Your hands are cold, let meput the rug over them. There, you look more comfortable. Now shut youreyes and try to get to sleep until the doctor comes round. "

Cuthbert closed his eyes at once. Mary went about the ward doing herwork for the next two hours, returning at frequent intervals to thebedside, and seeing with satisfaction that he was sleeping quietly. Atfour o'clock the surgeon came in. She was occupied in serving out somesoup to the patients and did not go round with him. She had finished herwork 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 isstronger, and the action of his heart regular. There is certainly a goodchance 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 Imay be able to give a more decided opinion. Now, I think you had betterbe off at once. I can see you have recovered your nerve, but there willbe a dozen fresh nurses here in a few minutes, and I shall clear you allout. Do you feel strong enough to walk home?"

"Oh, yes, Doctor, I may come in the first thing in the morning, mayn'tI?"

"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 heras a cousin, but I am greatly mistaken if she has not very much warmerfeelings towards him, though she did so stoutly declare that they werebut old friends. "

Mary, putting on her bonnet and cloak, went out. As she 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 recognized her. Itwas the face of which she had seen so many drawings in Cuthbert'ssketch-book. 

"It is not possible to-day, " she said, "except in extreme cases. Therehave been many applicants, but they have all been refused. "

"I fear this is an extreme case, " René, for it was he, urged. "It is acomrade of mine, and the surgeon told me after examining him that he washit very seriously. This lady is his fiancée. "

"I know who you mean, " Mary said, after a moment's silence, "but shecould not see him even if she were his wife. He is asleep now andeverything depends upon his sleep being unbroken. "

"If I could only see him I would not wake him, " the woman wailed, whileRené asked--

"Can you tell us if there are any hopes for him?"

"The surgeon says there are some hopes, " Mary said, coldly, "but thateverything depends upon his being kept perfectly quiet. However, I haveno power in the matter. I am off duty now, and you had better apply toMrs. Stanmore. She is in charge of the ward. It is the farthest of thethree marquees. "

"What is that woman to him?" Minette exclaimed, passionately, as Marywalked on. "She loves him or she hates him. I saw her look at me as youspoke first, and her face changed. She knew me though I did not knowher. "

"Oh, that is all fancy, Minette. How can she know Arnold? She is tiredand worn out. Parbleu, they must have had terrible work there since thesortie began. It is getting dark, but it is easy to see how pale andworn out she looked. For my part I would rather go through that fight inthe 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 areall taken up by duty and cannot have strangers in the wards; but if thepatient is likely to die and wishes to see a friend or relative in thecity we send for him or her. If you will give me your name and address Iwill see that you are sent for should the patient ask for you. The ruleI can assure you is absolute, and I have no power whatever to grantpermission to anyone except in the case I have named. "

Minette went away raving, and it needed indeed all René's remonstrancesand entreaties to induce her to leave. 

"It is clear, " he said, "that he cannot be near death; were he so hewould assuredly ask for you. So after all it is good news that you havereceived, and as I told you all along, though the surgeon said that itwas a serious wound, he did not say that it was likely to be fatal, ashe did in the case of Cuthbert Hartington. These army surgeons do notmince matters, and there was no reason why he should not have said atonce to me that the American was likely to die if he thought it would beso. "

"I will go to see him to-morrow, " she said, with an angry stamp of herfoot. "If the women try to prevent me I will tear their faces. If themen interfere to stop me I will scream so loud that they will be forcedto let me in. It is abominable to keep a woman from the bedside of theman she loves. "

"It is of no use you talking in that wild way, Minette, " René said, sternly; "how do you suppose a hospital is to be managed if every sickman is to have women sitting at his bed. It is childish of you to talkso, and most ungrateful. These foreigners are supporting this ambulanceat their own expense. The ladies are working like slaves to succor ourwounded and you go on like a passionate child because, busy as theyare, they are obliged to adhere to their regulations. At any rate I willcome here with you no more. I am not going to see these kind peopleinsulted. "

CHAPTER XV. 

Mary Brander made her way wearily home. 

"You have had another terrible time, I can see it in your face, " MadameMichaud said, as she entered. "They say there have been four thousandwounded and fifteen hundred killed. I cannot understand how you supportsuch scenes. "

"It has been a hard 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 sheentered her 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; "butwait a moment, let me take off your bonnet and brush your hair. There isnothing like having your hair brushed when you are tired. "

Passively Mary submitted to the woman's ministrations, and presentlyfelt soothed, as Margot with, by no means ungentle hands, brushedsteadily the long hair she had let down. 

"You feel better, mademoiselle?" the woman asked, presently. "That isright, now take a little of this broth. Please try, and then I will takeoff your cloak and frock and you shall lie down, and I will cover youup. "

Mary made an effort to drink the broth, then the servant partlyundressed her and covered her up warmly with blankets, drew the curtainsacross 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 outfor that relief. It had been a terrible time for her. For twenty-fourhours she had been engaged unceasingly in work of the most tryingdescription. The scent of blood still seemed to hang about her, and shevaguely wondered whether she should ever get rid of it. Then there hadbeen her own special anxiety and suspense, and the agony of seeingCuthbert brought in apparently wounded to death. The last blow had beendealt by this woman. She said she was his fiancée, but although she hadit from her lips, Mary could not believe it. She might be his mistressbut surely not the other. Surely he could never make that wildpassionate woman his wife. Then she felt she was unjust. This poorcreature would naturally be in a passion of grief and agony, at findingthat she could not go to the bedside of the man she loved. She shouldnot judge her from that. She remembered how different was her expressionin some of the sketches she had seen in Cuthbert's book. 

"At any rate, " she said to herself with a hard sob, "I have no right tocomplain. 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. Hewas free to do as he liked, and of course put it out of his mindaltogether as I did out of mine. How could I tell that the time wouldcome when I should find out what a terrible mistake I had made, howcould I dream of such a thing! How could I guess that he would come intomy 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'sthoughts ran on till they become more and more vague, and sleep at lastarrested them altogether. She was awakened by Madame Michaud coming intothe 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 ortwo. " She looked round in surprise. "Why, it is broad daylight, whattime is it?"

"It is eleven o'clock, my dear. I thought it was time to arouse you, andin truth I was getting anxious that you had not made your appearance. Itis seventeen hours since you lay down. "

"Good gracious!" Mary exclaimed. "And I was due at the ambulance ateight. I must have been asleep hours and hours, madame. I lay awake fora time--two hours, perhaps, and the last thing I thought was that Ishould never get to sleep, and then I have slept all this dreadfultime. "

"Not a dreadful time at all, " Madame Michaud said with a smile. "Youhave not slept a minute too long. I feared for you when you came inyesterday. I said to my husband in the evening, 'That angel is killingherself. She could scarce speak when she came in, and I cry when I thinkof her face. ' You may thank the good God that you have slept so long andso soundly. I can tell you that you look a different being thismorning. "

"I feel different, " Mary said, as she sprang up, "will you ask Margot tobring me my can of water at once. "

"Yes, but drink your coffee and eat your bread first. Margot said youonly took a few spoonsful of broth last night. "

"I must have my bath first and then I will promise you I will drink thecoffee and eat the last crumb of bread. You will see I shall be quiteblooming by the time I come down. "

Madame Michaud was obliged to admit that Mary looked more herself thanshe had done for days past when, half an hour later, she came downstairsready to start. 

"I shall be scolded dreadfully, madame, when I get to the ambulance fourhours after my time. "

"You look so much fitter for work, my dear, that if the doctor has eyesin his head, he will be well content that you have taken it out insleep. "

Mary walked with a brisk step down to the hospital. 

"I will think no more of it, " she said resolutely to herself. "I havechosen to be a nurse and I will go through with it. I think when I gethome after this is over I will become a nursing sister--at any rate Imay do some good at that; there is plenty of work in the world, even ifit is not in the way I thought of doing it. "

But she hesitated when she reached the tents, afraid to go in. One ofthe other nurses came out presently. 

"Which tent is Dr. Swinburne in?" 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 amdreadfully late this morning and I should like to see him before I goin. "

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. Theythought I looked tired, when I came in, and were silly enough not towake me this morning. "

"Not silly at all, my dear. They did the very best thing for you, foryou had gone through a terrible strain here. I am glad, indeed, it wassleep and not illness that kept you away. You are looking quite adifferent woman this morning. "

"I am so glad that you are not angry. Please tell me how the wounded aregetting on?"

"There were ten deaths in the night, " he said, "but as a whole they aregoing on well. You will be glad to hear that the young Englishman whowas shot through the body has passed a quiet night, and I have now analmost assured hope that he will recover. Had there been any vitalinjury its effects would be visible by now. Now run in and take up yourwork. "

With a grateful look Mary entered the tent and was soon engaged at herwork. She was some little time before she made her way to the fartherend 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 thestrongest hopes now of your recovery. "

"Yes, he has been telling me that I am doing well, " he said. "Have youonly just come? I have been wondering what had had become of you. Youlooked 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 tosay how many hours. Of course I ought to have been here at eight, butthey did not wake me, and I feel all the better for it. "

"I remember not so long ago, " he said, "that a certain young ladydeclared that it was ridiculous for persons to interfere in businesswhich did not concern them. Now here you are knocking yourself up andgoing through horrible work for people who are nothing to you. That is alittle 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 nothinginconsistent whatever in it. Well, thank God that you are better, Cuthbert. I should not have gone away yesterday afternoon if Dr. Swinburne had not assured me that there was nothing that I could do foryou, and that he really thought you might recover. You believe me, don'tyou?"

He nodded. 

"I do believe you, Mary. I did not think myself that I had a shadow of achance, 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 havedrunk a good deal of brandy and water and I really think I could takesome broth. I told the doctor so this morning, but he said I had betterwait another twelve hours, and then I might have two or three spoonsfulof arrowroot, but the less the better. I suppose there is no list ofkilled 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 MadameMichaud would have told me had there been a list published thismorning. "

Mary now turned to the next bed, but the patient was lying with his eyesclosed. 

"I expect he has gone off to sleep, " Cuthbert said, "he has been in alot of pain all night and half an hour ago they took off his bandagesand put on fresh ones, and I fancy they must have hurt him amazingly. Icould tell that by his quick breathing, for he did not utter a moan. Iam glad that he has gone off to sleep. I heard the doctor tell him thathe thought he might get the use of his arm again, though it wouldprobably 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 youare quiet and good, I will come to you very often, but if not I shallhand you over to the charge of another nurse. I blame myself for askingyou any questions. Indeed I am quite in earnest; you are not fit totalk; the slightest movement might possibly set your wound off bleeding;besides you are not strong enough; it is an effort to you, and the greatthing is for you to be perfectly quiet and tranquil. Now shut your eyesand try to doze off again. "

She spoke in a tone of nursely authority, and with a faint smile heobeyed her orders. She stood for a minute looking at him, and as she didso 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 beforelong. As yet weakness and fever, and pain, had scarcely begun their workof hollowing the cheeks and reducing him to a shadow of himself. Therewas already scarcely a tinge of color in his face, while there was adrawn look round the mouth and a bluish tinge on the lips. The eyesseemed deeper in the head and the expression of the face greatlychanged--indeed, it was rather the lack of any expression thatcharacterized it. It might have been a waxen mask. 

From time to time she went back to him, and although the soft clingingmaterial of her dress and her list slippers rendered her movementsnoiseless, he always seemed conscious of her presence, and opened hiseyes with a little welcoming smile, as she stood beside him, sipped afew drops from the glass she held to his lips, and then closed his eyesagain without a word. After a few hours the period of pain and fever setin, but the doctor found no reason for anxiety. 

"You must expect it, my dear, " he said to Mary one day when the feverwas at its height. "A man cannot get through such a wound as his withouta sharp struggle. Nature cannot be outraged with impunity. It iscertain now that there was no vital injury, but pain and fever almostnecessarily accompany the efforts of nature to repair damages. I see noreason for uneasiness at present. I should say that he has an excellentconstitution, and has never played the fool with it. In a few days inall probability the fever will abate, and as soon as it does so, he willbe on the highway to convalescence. "

During that ten days Mary seldom left the hospital, only snatching a fewhours sleep occasionally in a tent which had now been erected for theuse of the nurses on duty. At the end of that time the struggle was overand the victory won, and Cuthbert lay terribly weak and a mere shadow ofhimself, but free from fever and with perfect consciousness in his eyes. 

"How long have I been here?" he asked Mary. 

"I think it is a fortnight to-day since you came in, Cuthbert, " sheanswered, quietly. "Thank God you are quite out of danger now, and thedoctor 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 nothingelse, 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 usearguing. What has been happening outside?"

"Nothing. The troops were withdrawn the day after the fight when youwere 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 andso restless, and talked so loud that the doctor had him carried intoanother ward so that you should not be disturbed by it. I have not seenhim since, but I hear he is going on very well. Your friend René hasbeen here twice--indeed he has been every day to inquire--but he wasonly let in twice. He seems a very kind-hearted fellow and was very cutup about you. I am sure he is very fond of you. He says that MonsieurGoudé and the other students have all been most anxious about you, andthat he comes as a sort of deputation from them all. "

René had, indeed, quite won Mary's heat by the enthusiastic way in whichhe had spoken of Cuthbert, and had quite looked forward to the littlechat she had with him every morning when he came to the ambulance fornews. 

"He is a grand fellow, mademoiselle, " he would say, with tears in hiseyes, "we all love him. He has such talents and such a great heart. Itis not till now that we quite know him. When a man is dying men speak ofthings they would not tell otherwise. There are four or five that he hashelped, and who but for him must have given up their studies. The restof us had no idea of it. But when they knew how bad he was, first onebroke down and then another, and each told how generously he had come totheir aid and how delicately he had insisted upon helping them, makingthem promise to say no word of it to others. Ma foi, we all criedtogether. We have lost six of our number besides the five here. Therest, except Dampierre, are our countrymen, and yet it is of yourEnglishman that we think and talk most. "

All this was very pleasant to Mary. Cuthbert was now of course nothingto her, but it soothed her to hear his praises. He had been wicked inone respect, but in all others he seemed to have been what she hadthought of him when he was a child, save that he developed a talent andthe power of steady work, for which she had never given him credit, foron this head René was as emphatic as on other points. 

"He will be a great artist, mademoiselle, if he lives. You do notknow how much the master thought of him and so did we all. He workedharder than any of us, much harder; but it was not that only. He hastalent, great talent, while the rest of us are but daubers. You willsee his pictures hung on the line and that before long. We are allburning to see those he was painting for the Salon this year. Thereare only three of us painting for that, the master would not let anyothers think of it. Pierre Leroux is the third and he would have hadlittle chance of being hung had not the Englishman gone into his roomone day, and taking his brush from his hand transformed his picturealtogether--transformed it, mademoiselle--and even Goudé says now thatit is good and will win a place. But Pierre declares that he has notthe heart to finish it. If Cuthbert dies he will put it by for anotheryear. "

René was admitted to see Cuthbert the day after the fever had left himand sat for an hour by his bedside telling, after his first burst ofemotion on seeing the change that had taken place in him, about the fateof his comrades in the studio. Mary did not go near them. There werequestions Cuthbert would want to ask. Messages that he would want tosend that she ought not to hear. She had wondered that this woman, whohad for a time come every day and had as regularly made a scene at theentrance to the ambulance, had, since Cuthbert was at his worst, ceasedcoming. 

She had never asked about her, and was ignorant that for the last fourdays she had been allowed to sit for a time by the side of a patient inanother ward. She thought most likely that she was ill and had brokendown under the stress of her grief and anxiety. She had even in thoughtpitied her. It was she and not herself that ought to be watchingCuthbert's bedside. She might not be good, but she was a woman and sheloved, and it must be terrible for her to know how ill he was and neverto be allowed even to see him for a moment. It was evident that she hadbeen taken ill, and when on René's leaving she went to her patient sheexpected to find him downcast and anxious. Sad he certainly was, but hedid 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, allmerry lads, taking life easily, as students do, but with plenty of goodin them, that would have come to the surface later on. It will make asad gap in our ranks when the rest of us come together again. Thewounded are all going on well, I hear, that of course is a greatcomfort. I hear the other two companies suffered much more than we did. The walls we fought behind saved us a good deal you see. René says thetroops all went out again three days ago, and that there was a talk ofa great fight, but there has only been some skirmishing and they havebegun to come back into the town again. Our corps did not go out. Theythink they have done a fair share of the work, and I think so too. Renésays the old major, who is now in command, is so furious at thecowardice shown last time by the National Guards and some of the troopsthat he declares he will not take out his brave lads to throw away theirlives when the Parisians will not venture within musket-shot of theenemy. 

"I think he is quite right. I hope there will be no more sorties, for Iam sure it would be useless. If you had seen, as I did, seven or eightthousand men running like a flock of frightened sheep, you would agreewith me that it would be hopeless to think of breaking through theGermans with such troops as this. One victory would make all thedifference in the world to their morale, but they will never win thatone victory, and it will take years before the French soldier regainshis old confidence in himself. Have you taken to rats yet, Mary?" heasked, with a flash of his old manner. 

"No, sir, and do not mean to. We are still going on very fairly. Themeat rations are very small, but we boil them down into broth, and as wehave plenty of bread to sop into it we do very well; our store of eggshave held on until now. We have been having them beaten up in ourmorning coffee instead of milk, but they are just gone, and MadameMichaud says that we must now begin upon the preserved meat. We are along way from rats yet, though I believe they are really hunted andeaten 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. "

"What is the news from the provinces?"

"Everywhere bad. Bourbaki has been obliged to take refuge in Switzerlandand his force has been disarmed there. Chanzy has been beaten badly nearNew Orleans, and the Prussians have probably by this time entered Tours. Faidherbe has gained some successes in the north, but as the Germansare pushing forward there, as well as everywhere else, that does notmake very much difference to us. "

"Then what on earth's the use of holding out any longer, " he said. "Itis sheer stupidity. I suppose the Parisians think that, as they can'tfight, they will at least show that they can starve. What is the weatherlike? 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 isone of the coldest winters that has been for years. "

"What is the day of the month?"

"The 26th. "

"Then yesterday was Christmas Day. "

"Yes, " she said, "not a merry Christmas this year to any of us--no roastbeef, no plum-pudding, no mince-pies--and yet, Cuthbert, I had everyreason to be thankful, for what a much more unhappy Christmas it mighthave been to me. "

He nodded. 

"I know what you mean. Yes, you would have missed me, child, cut off aswe are from the world here. I am, as it were, the sole representative ofyour family. Of course, you have not heard from them. "

She shook her head. 

"I don't suppose they trouble much about me, " she said, a littlebitterly, "I am a sort of disappointment, you know. Of course I havebeen away now for nearly two years, except for the fortnight I was overthere, and even before that I scarcely seemed to belong to them. I didnot care for the things that they thought a great deal of, and they hadno interest in the things I cared for. Somehow I don't think I have goton well with them ever since I went up to Girton. I see now it wasentirely my own fault. It does not do for a girl to have tastesdiffering from those of her family. "

"I felt that, Mary. I felt it very much. I have told myself ever sincethe day of dear old father's death that I have been a brute, and I wishwith all my heart I had put aside my own whims and gone in for a countrylife. It is all very well to say I did not like it, but I ought to havemade myself like it; or if I could not do that, I ought to have made apretence of liking it, and to have stuck to him as long as I lived. Ihadn't even the excuse of having any high purpose before me. "

"We all make mistakes in our lives, Cuthbert, " the girl said, quietly, "and it is of no use bemoaning them--at any rate you have done your bestto retrieve yours, and I mean to do my best to retrieve mine. I havequite made up my mind that when this is over I shall go to London and beregularly trained as a hospital nurse, and then join a nursingsisterhood. "

"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 back-slider! Mary, you absolutely shock me. At present youhave got nursing on the brain. I should have thought that this ambulancework would have been enough for a life-time. At any rate I should adviseyou to think it over very seriously before you commit yourself toodeeply 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 todevote her life to championing her sex. "

Mary did not reply but silently moved off with an air of deeply-offendeddignity. 

"What an enthusiastic little woman she is, " Cuthbert laughed quietly tohimself; "anyhow she is a splendid nurse, and I would infinitely rathersee her so, than as a female spouter on platforms. I fancied the siegemight have had some effect on her. She has seen something of therealities of life and was likely to give up theorizing. She looks olderand more womanly, softer a good deal than she was. I think I can improvethat picture now. I had never seen her look soft before, and had totrust to my imagination. I am sure I can improve it now. "

Another fortnight and Cuthbert was out of bed and able to walk about inthe ward and to render little services to other patients. 

"Do you know, Mary, " he said, one day, when she happened to be idle andwas standing talking to him as he sat on the edge of his bed, "a curiousthing happened to me the very day before we went out on that sortie. Isaw that fellow, Cumming, the rascal that ruined the bank, and thenbolted, you know. For a moment I did not recall his face, but it struckme 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. Itwas a capital idea of his, for he is as safe here as he would be if hewere up in a balloon. I intended to look him up when I got back againinto 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'tsuppose that he made off with any great sum. You see the companies hebolstered up with the bank's money, all smashed at the same time. Idon't suppose that he intended to rob the bank at the time he helpedthem. Probably he had sunk all his savings in them, and thought theywould pull round with the aid of additional capital. As far as I couldmake out, from the report of the men who went into the matter, he didnot seem to have drawn any money at all on his own account, until thevery day he bolted, when he took the eight or ten thousand pounds therewas in the safe. No. I don't think I meant to hand him over or indeed tosay anything about it. I thought I would give him a good fright, whichhe richly deserves, and then ask him a few questions. I have never quiteunderstood how it was that dear old dad came to buy those shares. I didinquire so far as to find out it was Cumming himself who transferredthem 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 thatthe bank was going to break, I should have no ill-will against him, butif I were sure he persuaded him to buy, 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?"

"That's just what I cannot make out. He could have had no interest ininvolving him in the smash. Besides they were not on intimate terms inany way. I cannot imagine that my father would have gone to him foradvice in reference to business investments. It was, of course, to yourfather 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 thematter all the more singular. "

"What did father say, Cuthbert?" the girl said, after a short pause. "Isuppose you spoke to him about it. "

"He said that my father had heard some rumors to the effect that thebank was not in a good state, and having no belief whatever in them, hebought the shares, thinking that his doing so would have a good effectupon its credit, in which as a sort of county institution, he felt aninterest. "

"But did not father, who was solicitor to the bank, and must have knownsomething 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 toits legal business, and outside that knew nothing of its affairs. "

"It seems a curious affair altogether, " Mary said, gravely, "But it istime for me to be at work again. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

While in the ambulance, Mary Brander resolutely put her conversationwith Cuthbert aside, but as soon as she started for her walk home, itbecame uppermost in her thoughts. It was certainly a curious affair. From time to time friends at home with whom she corresponded, sent herlocal newspapers, and this had especially been the case during the firstfew months of her stay in Germany, as they naturally supposed she wouldbe greatly interested in the calamity of the bank failure. 

She had, at the time it was issued, read the full report of thecommittee of investigation upon its affairs, and, although she hadpassed lightly over the accounts, she had noticed that the proceeds ofthe sale of the Fairclose estates were put down as subject to adeduction of fifteen thousand pounds for a previous mortgage to JeremiahBrander, Esq. The matter had made no impression upon her mind at thistime, but it now came back to her remembrance. 

Of course it was perfectly natural that if Mr. Hartington wished toborrow money it was to her father, as his solicitor and friend, that hewould have gone. There could be nothing unusual in that, but whatCuthbert had told her about Mr. Hartington buying the shares but twomonths before his death was certainly singular. Surely her father couldhave prevented his taking so disastrous a step. Few men are regarded bymembers of their family in exactly the same light as they are consideredby the public, and Jeremiah Brander was certainly no exception. Whilethe suavest of men in the eyes of his fellow-townsmen, his family werewell aware that he possessed a temper. When the girls were young hisconversation was always guarded in their hearing, but as they grew up heno longer felt the same necessity for prudence of speech, and frequentlyindulged in criticisms of the colleagues, for whom he professed the mostunbounded respect and admiration in public. 

Mary had often felt something like remorse at the thought that the firsttime she read Martin Chuzzlewit, many touches in the delineation of Mr. Pecksniff's character had reminded her of her father. She believed himto be a just and upright man, but she could not help admitting toherself that he was not by a long way the man the public believed him tobe. It was a subject on which she rarely permitted herself to think. They had never got on very well together, and she acknowledged toherself that this was as much her fault as his. It was not so much thefact 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 thegulf which had grown up between them, as the dissimilarity of theircharacter, the absolute difference between the view which she held ofthings in general, to that which the rest of her family entertainedregarding them, and the outspoken frankness with which she was in thehabit of expressing her contempt for things they praised highly. 

Thinking over this matter of Mr. Hartington's purchase of the bankshares, she found herself wondering what motive her father could havehad in permitting him to buy them, for knowing how the Squire reliedupon his opinion in all business matters, she could not doubt that thelatter could have prevented this disastrous transaction. That he musthave had some motive she felt sure, for her experience of him was amplysufficient for her to be well aware that he never acted without a motiveof some sort. So far as she could see, no motive was apparent, but thisin no way altered her opinion. 

"Cuthbert thinks it a curious affair, and no wonder, " she said toherself. "I don't suppose he has a suspicion that anything has beenwrong, and I don't suppose there has; but there may have been what theycall sharp practice. I don't think Cuthbert likes my father, but he isthe very last man to suspect anyone. It was horrid, before, being atFairclose--it will be ten times as bad now. The whole thing isdisgusting. It is wicked of me to think that my father could possibly doanything that wasn't quite honorable and right--especially when there isnot the slightest reason for suspecting him. It is only, I suppose, because I know he isn't exactly what other people think him to be, thatmakes me uneasy about it. I know well enough that I should never havegone away from home as I did, if it had not been that I hated so to hearhim running down people with whom he seemed to be so friendly, andmaking fun of all the things in which he seemed so interested. It usedto make me quite hateful, and he was just as glad, when I said I shouldlike to go to Girton, to get rid of me as I was to go. 

"It is all very well to say, honor your father and mother, but if youcan't honor them what are you to do? I have no doubt I am worryingmyself for nothing now, but I can't help it. It is dreadful to feellike that towards one's father, but I felt quite a chill run through mewhen Cuthbert said he should go and see that man Cumming and try to getto the bottom of things. One thing is certain, I will never live atFairclose--never. If he leaves it between us, Julia and Clara may livethere 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 isall very miserable, and I do think I am getting to be a most hatefulgirl. Here am I suspecting my own father of having done something wrong, although of what I have not the least idea, and that without a shadow ofreason, then I am almost hating a woman because a man I refused lovesher. I have become discouraged and have thrown up all the plans I hadlaid down for myself, because it does not seem as easy as I thought itwould be. No, that is not quite true. It is much more because Cuthberthas laughed me out of them. Anyhow I should be a nice woman to teachother women what they should do, when I am as weak as the weakest ofthem. I don't think there ever was a more objectionable sort of girl inthe world than I have become. "

By the time that she had arrived at this conclusion she had nearlyreached home. A sudden feeling that she could not in her present moodsubmit to be petted and fussed over by Madame Michaud struck her, andturning abruptly she walked with brisk steps to the Arc de Triomphe andthen down the Champs Elysées and along the Rue Rivoli, and then roundthe Boulevards, returning home fagged out, but the better for herexertion. One thing she determined during her walk, she would give upher work at the ambulance. 

"There are plenty of nurses, " she said, "and one more or less will makeno difference. I am miserably weak, but at any rate I have sense enoughto 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 wouldrather die than that he should ever dream what a fool I am; and now Iknow it myself it will be harder and harder as he gets better to betalking to him indifferently. " Accordingly the next morning, when shewent down, she told Dr. Swinburne that she felt that she must, at anyrate for a time, give up nursing. 

"You are quite right, Miss Brander, " he said, kindly, "you have taxedyour strength too much already, and are looking a mere shadow of whatyou were two months ago. You are quite right to take a rest. I haveplenty of assistance, and there is not likely to be such a strain againas that we have lately gone through. Paris cannot hold out many weekslonger, and after the two failures I feel sure that there will be nomore attempts at a sortie, especially as all hopes that an army may cometo our relief are now at an end. "

She found it more difficult to tell Cuthbert, but it was not necessaryfor her to begin the subject, for he noticed at once that she had notthe usual nursing-dress on. 

"You are going to take a holiday to-day, I suppose?" he said, as shecame 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 thisward 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 foryou to go through, and you have behaved like a heroine. A good many ofus owe our lives to you, but the work has told on you sadly. I don'tsuppose you know yourself how much. We shall all miss you at this end ofthe ward--miss you greatly, but I am sure there is not one who will notfeel as I do, glad to know that you are taking a rest after all yourwork. Of course you will look in sometimes to see how your patients areprogressing. As for myself I hope I shall be able to come up to see youat the Michauds in another ten days or so. Now that the doctor has takento feeding me up I can feel that I am gaining strength every day. "

"You must not hurry, Cuthbert, " she said, gravely. "You must keep quietand patient. "

"You are not in your nursing-dress now, Miss Brander, and I declinealtogether to be lectured by you. I have been very good and obedient upto now, but I only bow to lawfully constituted authority, and now Icome under the head of convalescent I intend to emancipate myself. "

"I shall not come down here to see you unless I hear good accounts ofyour 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, ashe left the hospital, "and he does not guess I know why he is longing tobe out again. I almost wonder he has never spoken to me about her. Hewould know very well that I should be interested in anything thatconcerns him, and I think he might have told me. I suppose he will bringher up some day and introduce her as his wife. Anyhow I am glad I knowabout 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 givenup her work she felt the reaction, and although she refused to take toher bed she passed her time sitting listless and weak in an easy-chair, paying but slight attention to Madame Michaud's talk, and often passingthe greater part of the day in her own room. 

Madame Michaud felt so uneasy about her that she went down to theambulance and brought up Dr. Swinburne, who scolded Mary for not havingsent for him before. He prescribed tonics, sent her up a dozen of winefrom the hospital, ordered her to wrap herself up and sit at an openwindow for a time each day, and to make an effort to take a turn roundthe 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 anassistant in the ward--

"I have been up to see your late nurse, Miss Brander. There is nothingserious 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 dealof care and attention to build her up again. You will be out in a fewdays now and I am sure it will do her good if you will go up and have achat with her and cheer her up a bit. She is not in bed. My visit didher good; but she wants rousing, and remember if you can get her tolaugh, and joke her about her laziness, it will do more good than byexpressing 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 wantgenerous food, and I don't see how you are to get it outside. "

"I suppose the restaurants are still open?"

"The common ones are closed, but you can-still get a dinner at some ofthe 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 workagain. It will be no more tiring standing at an easel than it is doingwhat I can to help here. "

"That is true enough, providing you do not do too much of it. Up to acertain extent it will be a good thing for you, but mind, I distinctlyforbid you to attempt any such folly as to try to walk from the QuartierLatin up to Passy. Let me see, " he added, thoughtfully. "Yes, I think itcan be managed. I will send you home by the ambulance that will be hereto-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You are to keep yourself quiet allday, and I will get Madame de Millefleurs to send her carriage round foryou at eleven o'clock next day, to take you round by Passy. She has toldme many times that it is always at the disposal of any of my patients towhom it would be useful. I will see her some time to-morrow and arrangeabout it. "

"Thank you, indeed, Doctor. I need not say how grateful I am to you forall the kindness I have received here. "

"We have done the best we could for you, " the doctor said, "and I amsure there is not one of those who have provided funds for thisambulance but feels well rewarded by the knowledge that it has been themeans of saving many lives. I think we may say that we have not lostone whom it was humanly possible to save, while in the French hospitalsthey have lost hundreds from over-crowding, want of ventilation, andproper sanitary arrangements. The mortality there has been fearful, andthe percentage of deaths after amputations positively disgraceful. "

René came late that afternoon to pay a visit to Cuthbert, and wasdelighted to find that he was to be out next morning. 

"I have kept your rooms in order, " he said, "and will have a big firelighted in them before you arrive. They will give you breakfast beforeyou leave, I hope. "

"They will do that, René, but I shall manage very well if there is stillanything left of that store of mine in the big cupboard. "

"You may be sure that there is, " René replied. "I am always mostparticular in locking up the doors when I come away, and I have not usedthe key you gave me of the cupboard. I was positively afraid to. I amvirtuous, I hope, but there are limits to one's power to resisttemptation. I know you told me to take anything I liked but if I hadonce began I could never have stopped. "

"Then we will have a feast to-morrow, René. Ask all the others in tosupper, but you must act as cook. Tell them not to come to see me tilleight o'clock. If they kept dropping in all day it would be too much forme. I wish Dampierre could be with us, but he has not got on so fast asI have. His wounds were never so serious, but the doctor said the boneswere badly smashed and take longer to heal. He says he is not a goodpatient either, but worries and fidgets. I don't think those visits ofMinette were good for him, the doctor had to put a stop to them. Hewould talk and excite himself so. However, I hear that he is likely tobe out in another fortnight. "

"By that time it will be all over, " Rend said, "negotiations are goingon now, and they say that in three or four days we shall surrender. "

"The best thing to do, René. Ever since that last sortie failed all hopehas 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 along 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. Afew hundred have been killed by the Prussian shells, but with thatexception 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 thewant of milk and things of that sort. I should doubt if there has been asingle death from absolute starvation. "

To M. Goudé's students that supper at Cuthbert Harrington's was amemorable event. The master himself was there. Two large hams, anddishes prepared from preserved meats were on the table, together with anabundance of good wine. It was the first reunion they had had since theone before the sortie, and it was only the gaps among their number, andthe fact that their host and several of their comrades were still weak, and greatly changed in appearance, that restrained their spirits frombreaking into hilarity. 

The next morning Madame de Millefleurs' carriage came to the door andCuthbert was driven to the Michauds. For a moment Margot failed torecognize Cuthbert as she opened the door. As she did so she exclaimed--

"Mon Dieu, Monsieur Hartington, you look like a ghost. "

"I am very far from being a ghost, Margot, though there is not muchflesh on my bones. How is Mademoiselle Brander? I hear she has not beenwell. "

"She is as pale as you are, monsieur, but not so thin. She does nothingbut sit quiet all day with her eyes wide open--she who was always sobright and active and had a smile for every one. I go out and cry oftenafter going into her room. She has just gone into the parlor. You willfind her alone there, " she added, for Margot had always had her ideas asto the cause of Cuthbert's visits. 

Mary was sitting at the open window and did not look round as Cuthbertentered. 

"Well, Mary, is it actually you, doing nothing?" he said, cheerily. 

She turned round with a start, and a flush of color swept across herface. 

"How you startled me, " she said. "I am glad indeed to see you. I did notthink you would be out so soon. Surely it is very foolish of you comingso far. "

"Still thinking you are a nurse, Mary, " he laughed. "I can assure you Iam very prudent, and I have been brought up here in a carriage acarriage--with live horses. Dr. Swinburne told me you had not got overthe effects of your hard work, and that he had had to order you to taketonics, so you see instead of being a nurse you are a patient atpresent, while I am a free man. I came out of hospital yesterdaymorning, and we had a grand supper last night out of my hoards, which Ifound just as I had left them, which says wonders for the honesty of theParisians in general, and for the self-denial of my friend René Caillardin 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 youthought I should have distributed my stores long ago, or that I ought tohave sent for them for the use of the hospital. I really ought to havedone so. It would have been only fair, but in fact the idea neveroccurred to me. René had the keys of my rooms and I told him to use thestores as he liked, meaning for himself and for our comrades of thestudio. "

"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 havebeen expecting you to tell me all the time you were in the hospital, andhave felt hurt you did not. "

Cuthbert looked at her in surprise. There was a slight flush on hercheek and it was evident that she was deeply in earnest. 

"Tell you something, Mary, " he repeated. "I really don't know what youmean--no, honestly, I have not a notion. "

"I don't wish to pry into your secrets, " she said, coldly. "I learnedthem accidentally, but as you don't wish to take me into your confidencewe will say no more about it. "

"But we must say more about it, " he replied. "I repeat I have no idea ofwhat you are talking about. I have no secret whatever on my mind. Byyour manner it must be something serious, and I think I have a right toknow 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 willfinish the question I began twice. I should have thought that you wouldhave wished that your stores should be sent to the lady you are engagedto. "

Cuthbert looked at her in silent surprise. 

"My dear Mary, " he said, gravely, at last, "either you are dreaming or Iam. I understood that your reply to my question, the year before last, was as definite and as absolute a refusal as a man could receive. Certainly I have not from that moment had any reason to entertain amoment's doubt that you yourself intended it as a rejection. "

"What are you talking about?" she asked, rising to her feet with anenergy of which a few minutes before she would have deemed herselfaltogether incapable. "Are you pretending that I am alluding to myself, are you insulting me by suggesting that I mean that I am engaged toyou?"

"All I say is, Mary, that if you do not mean that, I have not the mostremote idea in the world what you do mean. "

"You say that because you think it is impossible I should know, " Maryretorted, indignantly, "but you are mistaken. I have had it from her ownlips. "

"That she was engaged to me?"

"She came to the hospital to see you the night you were brought in, andshe claimed admittance on the ground that she was affianced to you. "

Cuthbert's surprise changed to alarm as it flashed across him that theheavy work and strain had been too much for the girl, and that her brainhad 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 camewith your friend, René, and I knew her before she spoke, for I had seenher face in a score of places in your sketch-book, and you told me shewas 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 thatthe matter should remain for a time a secret, but I did not think when Itold you that I knew it, you would have kept up the affectation ofignorance. I have always regarded you as being truthful and honorablebeyond all things, and I am bitterly disappointed. I was hurt that youshould not have given your confidence to me, but I did think when I toldyou that I knew your secret you would have manfully owned it, and notdescended to a pretence of ignorance. "

For a moment Cuthbert's face had expressed bewilderment, but as she wenton speaking, a smile stole across his face. Mary noticed it and hervoice and manner changed. 

"I think, Mr. Hartington, " she said, with great dignity, "you must seethat it will be pleasanter for us both that this interview shallterminate. "

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 neverstruck you that you might also have made a mistake this time? I thinkthat our very long acquaintance might have induced you to hesitate alittle before you assumed it as a certainty that your old acquaintancewas acting in this way, and that for the sake of old times you mighthave given him the benefit of the doubt. "

The strength that Mary's indignation had given her, deserted hersuddenly. Her fingers tightened on the back of the chair by her side forsupport. 

"How could there be any mistake, " she asked, weakly, her vigorous attacknow turned into a defence, more by his manner than his words, "when Iheard her say so?"

"Sit down, child, " he said, in his old authoritative manner. "You arenot fit to stand. "

She felt it would be a step towards defeat if she did so, but he broughtup the chair in which she had before been sitting and placed it behindher, and quietly assisted her into it. 

"Now, " he went on, "you say you heard it from her lips. What did shesay?"

"She said she insisted on going in to see you, and that as youraffianced wife she had a right to do so. "

"She said that, did she? That she was the affianced wife of CuthbertHartington?"

Mary thought for a moment. 

"No, she did not use those words, at least, not that I can remember; butit was not necessary, I knew who she was. I have seen the sketches inyour book, and there were several of them on the walls of your room. Ofcourse I knew who she was speaking of, though she did not, so far as Ican remember, use your name. "

"Did it never occur to you, Miss Brander, that it was a natural thingone should have many sketches of the girl who always stood as a model inthe studio, and that every student there would have his sketch-book fullof them? Did you not know that there were three or four other woundedmen of the same corps as myself in the hospital; that one at least was afellow-student of mine, and also a foreigner, and that this young womanwas just as likely to be asking to see him as to see me?"

An awful feeling of doubt and shame came with overpowering force overMary Brander. 

"No, " she said, desperately, "I never thought of such a thing. NaturallyI thought it was you, and there was no reason why it shouldn't be. Youwere perfectly free to please yourself, only I felt hurt that when yougot better you did not tell me. "

Her voice was so weak that Cuthbert poured some water into a glass andheld it to her lips. 

"Now, child, " he went on in a lighter voice, "I am not going to scoldyou--you are too weak to be scolded. Some day I may scold you as youdeserve. 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 tosay that Arnold Dampierre, the man who was in the next bed to me, youknow, does not see her in the same light, and I am very much afraid hewill be fool enough to marry her. Actually, she did a few days laterobtain permission to see him, and has, I believe, seen him several timessince; but as he was moved out of your ward whilst I was battling withthe fever, I have not seen her. Now don't cry, child, you have been agoose, but there is no harm done, and you ought to be glad to know thatyour old friend is not going to make a fool of himself; and he can stillbe regarded by you as truthful and honorable. Do you think I would havetaken you round to my rooms if I had been going to make her theirmistress?"

"Don't, don't!" the girl cried. "Don't say anything more, Cuthbert. Icannot bear it. "

"I am not going to say any more. Madame de Millefleurs' horses must bythis time be half-frozen, and her coachman be out of all patience, and Imust be going. I shall come again as soon as I can, and I shall be veryangry if I don't find you looking much more like yourself when I nextcome. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

The belief that in a few hours the siege would come to an end was sogeneral the next morning, that Cuthbert determined to lose no time inseeing Cumming. As soon as the way was open the man might take theopportunity to move off to some other hiding-place; and, therefore, instead of bringing out his canvases, as he had intended, Cuthbertdecided to call on him at once. Having chartered one of the fewremaining fiacres, at an exorbitant rate, he drove to the house wherehe had seen Cumming enter, and went into the concierge. 

"I want some information, my friend, " he said, laying a five-franc pieceon the table. "You have a foreigner lodging here?"

The man nodded. 

"Monsieur Jackson is a good tenant, " he said. "He pays well for anylittle services. "

"How long has he been here?"

"He came just after war was declared. "

"Has he taken his apartments for a long period?"

"He has taken them for a year, monsieur. I think he will take thempermanently. I hope so, for he gives no trouble, and has never been outlate once since he came here. "

"I want to see him, " Cuthbert said, "I believe he is an old acquaintanceof mine. "

"If you ring his bell he will open himself. He keeps an old woman asservant, but she has just gone out to do his shopping. He always takehis meals at home. He is on the second floor--the door to the left. "

Cuthbert went up and rang the bell. Cumming himself opened the door. Helooked at his visitor inquiringly. 

"You do not remember me, Mr. Cumming?" Cuthbert said, cheerfully. "I amnot surprised, for I have but just recovered from a very serious wound. I will come in and sit down, if you don't mind; I want to have a chatwith you. My name is Cuthbert Hartington!"

The man had given a violent start when his name was mentioned, and hisface turned to an ashy pallor. He hesitated for a moment, and then, asCuthbert entered, he closed the door behind him, and silently led theway into the sitting-room. 

"I happened to see you in the street, " Cuthbert went on, pleasantly, ashe seated himself. "Of course, your beard has altered you a bit, and Icould not at first recall your face, but it soon came back to me. It wasa happy idea of yours shutting yourself up here when there was no chanceof an extradition warrant being applied for. However, to-morrow or nextday that little difficulty will be at an end. I thought I would comeand have a conversation with you, and naturally the course that I shalltake 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 Idon't feel quite up to a personal tussle. "

"What do you want to talk about?" the man asked, doggedly. "I may tellyou at once that I placed what little money I got where it will never befound, and beyond sending me up for some years, there will be nothing tobe gained by denouncing me. "

"There might be some satisfaction though in seeing a man who has ruinedyou punished--at least there would be to some men. I don't know thatthere would be to me. It would depend upon circumstances. I am ready tobelieve that in those transactions of yours that brought the bank toruin, you honestly believed that the companies you assisted would turnout well, and that things would come out right in the end. I do notsuppose you were such a fool as to run the risk of ruin and penalservitude when you had a snug place, unless you had thought so; and, indeed, as the directors were as responsible as yourself for makingthose advances--although they were, of course, ignorant of the fact thatyou held a considerable interest in those companies--there was nothingactually criminal in those transactions. Therefore, it is only for thatmatter of your making off with the contents of the safe that you can beactually prosecuted. At any rate, I have no present intention ofinterfering in the affair, and you can remain here as Mr. Jackson up tothe end of your life for what I care, if you will give me theinformation that I desire. "

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, Idon't see that I could harm myself in any way by answering any questionsthey 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 momentwhen the bank was so shaky. "

"That is more than I can tell you, Mr. Hartington. It has been a puzzleto 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 thesmash must take place soon, and that possibly I might not be able to laymy hands on much ready cash. However, I will tell you exactly how itcame about. Brander, the lawyer came to me and said his client, Mr. Hartington, wanted fifty shares. I own I was astounded, for Brander knewperfectly well that things were in a very bad way. By the way he spoke Isaw there was something curious about the affair, but as he put thescrew on, and as much as hinted that if I did not follow hisinstructions he would blow the whole thing into the air, I made noobjections, especially as he proposed that I should transfer some of myown shares. The transfer was drawn up in regular form. He brought it tome duly signed by your father. 

"I noticed that his own clerks witnessed the signature, so I supposed itwas done in the office. He made a point that I should get the transferpassed with some others without the attention of the directors beingcalled to the matter. I got the transfer signed and sealed by two of thedirectors while there was a talk going on about other things, and theysigned without looking at names. So far as I am concerned that was thebeginning and ending of the matter. Oh, there was another point, thetransfer was ante-dated three weeks. Of course, it might have been lyingin Brander's office all the time. It was dated on the day after theprevious board meeting, so that in the ordinary course it would not bepassed until the next meeting, and it might very well have remained inBrander's hands until he knew that the directors were going to meetagain. I have often wondered what Brander's game was, and of course Ithought all the more of it when I saw that he had bought Fairclose. Hewas a crafty old fox, Brander, but I have never been able to understandwhy he permitted your father to ruin himself. "

Cuthbert remained silent for some time. 

"Your explanation only thickens the mystery, " he said. "I can no moreunderstand his motive than you can. Brander's explanation of the affairto me was that my father insisted against his advice in buying theshares, as he did not believe in the rumors to the discredit of thebank. He was a strong county man, as you may know, and thought that whenpeople heard that he had taken shares, it would tend to restoreconfidence in the concern. Now, as, on the contrary, Brander seems tohave taken special pains to prevent the transaction being known even bythe directors, it is clear that his explanation was a lie, that for somereasons of his own he wished to defeat my father's intentions. I think Imust get you to put the statement you have made to me on paper, and toget it sworn before a public notary--at least I think that is the wayout here. "

"I have no objection to do that, but as it is my intention to continueto live here where I am now known as a resident and feel myself prettysafe, except from some chance meeting like that of yours, I would ratherthat it should be done somewhere else. "

"That is reasonable enough, " Cuthbert agreed. "I expect the gates willbe open in a day or two, and I shall go to England at once and try toget to the bottom of this matter. I should think the Prussians will letEnglishmen pass out at once. Would you mind going with me as far asCalais? We can get the document sworn to in legal form and you can thencome back here. "

"I would rather go to Brussels, " the man said. 

"No doubt that would be best, " Cuthbert agreed. "It might be as wellthat it should not be done at any place in France. Well, Mr. Cumming, your secret is safe with me. I will call on you again as soon as I findthat we can get across to Brussels. "

"I shall be ready whenever you are, Mr. Hartington. Of course, I don'tquite see what you will do with this document, but I am perfectly readyto sign it. "

"I don't see either. I shall want to think the matter over. At present Ifeel in a complete fog. "

"I can quite understand that. I may tell you that Brander puzzled me agood deal the last two or three months before the bank stopped. He spenttwo or three hours going into the affairs with me. He knew generally howmatters stood, but he had never gone thoroughly into them before. Whenhe had done he said, 'I knew you were in a very bad way before but I didnot think it was as bad as this. I want to see whether the smash couldnot be postponed. Things have been bad lately, but I think they areimproving, and some of these affairs that you have been bolstering upmight pull round if you had time given you. "

"I did not see much chance of that. However, I did not say so in fact, Iwanted to hear what he was driving at. He went on, after looking throughthe list of mortgages we held, 'Of course, Cumming, it is to yourinterest to hold on here as long as possible, and I may have mine forwishing the bank to keep its doors open for some little time yet. Itwould never do for you to be going into the market to try and transferany 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 nocases did the bank lend more than fifty per cent. Of the full value ofthe 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 anythingpressing coming forward, I think I can manage to get twenty thousandpounds' worth of these mortgages taken off our hands altogether. I mightrepeat the operation three or four times, and could get it done quietlyand with no fuss. In that way the bank could be kept going for a goodmany months, which would give time for things to take a turn. In case ofanything like a run taking place, which I think is unlikely, I could letyou have fifteen thousand of my own in a few hours. I have it standingat 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 forwanting to prop the bank up was no business of mine, and there was nodoubt if he could get fifty or sixty thousand pounds' worth of mortgagestaken off our hands, it would enable us to hold on for some time. Hedid, in fact, get one batch of twenty thousand pounds' worthtransferred, but about a month before we stopped he came in one morningand said, 'I am sorry to tell you, Cumming, that I have heard from thepeople in town I had relied on to help us about those mortgages, andthey tell me they have undertaken the financing of a contractor for aSouth American railway, and that, therefore, they are not inclined atpresent to sink money farther in mortgages, so I am afraid, as far as Iam concerned, things here must take their course, ' and, as you know, they did take their course. Naturally, I did not believe Brander'sstory, but it was evident he had, when he made the offer, some reasonfor wanting the bank to keep its doors open for a time, and that thatreason, whatever it was, had ceased to operate when he withdrew theoffer. "

"I don't see that that part of the business has any bearing upon myaffair, " Cuthbert said, "beyond helping to show Brander was playing somedeep game of his own. "

"I don't know, Mr. Hartington. However, I will think the matter over, and we shall have opportunities for discussing it again on our way toBrussels. "

"I almost wish I had let the matter alone altogether, " Cuthbert said tohimself as he drove back to his lodgings. "I wanted to clear up whatseemed a mystery, and I find myself plunged much deeper into a fog thanever. Before I only dimly suspected Brander of having for some reason orother permitted my father to take these shares when a word from himwould have dissuaded him from doing so. I now find that the wholetransaction was carried out in something like secrecy, and that so farfrom my father's name being used to prop up the bank, it was almostsmuggled into the list of shareholders, and that even the directors werekept in ignorance of the transfer of Cumming's shares to him. The wholebusiness has a very ugly look, though what the motive of this secrecywas, or why Brander should be willing to allow, if not to assist, in myfather'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 wholebusiness alone. "

Cuthbert had given his address to Cumming, and to his surprise the mancalled on him that evening. 

"You did not expect to see me again to-day, Mr. Hartington, " he said, when he entered, "but thinking the matter over a fresh light has struckme, and I felt obliged to come round to tell you. I hope I am notdisturbing you. "

"No, I have been so worried over the confounded business, that I havegiven up going to some friends as I had promised, as I didn't feel thatI could talk about indifferent matters. "

"Well, Mr. Hartington, my idea will surprise you; it will seemincredible to you, and it almost seems so to myself, and yet it allworks in so that I can't help thinking it is near the mark. I believethat your father never signed that transfer at all that his signaturewas in fact a forgery. "

"The deuce you do, " Cuthbert exclaimed; "what on earth put such an ideainto your head? Why, man, the idea is absurd! If it was a forgery itmust have been done by Brander, and what possible motive could he havehad for such an act?"

"That I don't pretend to say. If I could see that, I should say it was acertainty, 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, althoughyour father was not a man of business, it was singular that he should goout of his way to take shares in the bank, when he must have known thatin 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 donesuch a thing. I wrote to Brander at once hoping for some sort ofexplanation. I was at the time satisfied with that that he gave me, butit was, as you know, because the matter, on reflection, has since seemedso extraordinary that I came to you to try and get some furtherinformation about it. "

"You saw your father after this supposed transaction, Mr. Hartington?"

"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 hegenerally told me if he had any difficulty about his rents, anddiscussed any improvements he thought of making, but beyond that therewas never any question of money. Sometimes he would say 'My balance atthe bank is rather larger than usual, Cuthbert, and if you like an extrahundred you can have it, ' which I never did. "

"Well, of course it is only negative evidence that he made no allusionto his having purchased those shares, still, as he was in the habit ofspeaking to you about things, he might very naturally have said 'I havebeen 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, because hemight have thought you would have considered it a rash speculation. "

"Certainly not, " Cuthbert said, warmly, "I should no more have thoughtof criticising anything he chose to do with his money, than I should offlying. "

"Well, at any rate, you may take it that there is no proof whatever thatMr. 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. " Cuthbertnodded. "Now let us suppose that this transfer was a forgery, and wascommitted by Brander, what course would he naturally pursue? Exactlythat which he followed, namely, to get it placed on the register withoutits being noticed by the directors. These men were all personal friendsof your father's. Knowing to some extent, though I admit withoutrealizing the peril, that the bank was seriously involved, they mighthave refused to register the transfer until they had privatelyremonstrated with him, especially as I was the vendor, even had theynot done this one or other of them would almost certainly have alludedto the subject the first time they met him. Brander might have intendedlater 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 tokeep the bank from putting up its shutters until after his death. Youwill remark that he did assist in that way, while your father was alive, and that almost immediately after his death, he declined to support thebank farther. What his motive can have been in all this I own that Icannot imagine, but, given a motive, my supposition appears to beperfectly feasible. That the motive, whatever it was, must have been avery strong one, I admit, for in the first place he was running the riskof being detected of forgery, and in the second must have been threehundred pounds out of pocket, for that was the amount of the check hehanded to me. "

"It was his own check, 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 twoclerks?"

"They may be forgeries too, or possibly, knowing your father'ssignature, they may have signed as a matter of course without actuallyseeing him affix it. You will admit that all this is possible. "

"It seems possible enough, " Cuthbert said, "but what motive could therehave been on Brander's part? He could never have run such a risk merelyto gratify any special fancy he may have had for Fairclose. "

"Certainly not, Mr. Hartington. Jeremiah Brander has not a particle ofsentiment in his composition. Of course, as he was the solicitor of thecompany, I made it my business to study the man pretty closely, and Icame to the conclusion that he was a rank humbug, but that he was ahumbug because it paid him to be one. "

"That is quite my own idea of him, but that does not help us in theslightest towards an explanation as to why he should risk everythingwhen he had nothing whatever to gain by it. "

"No, I feel that difficulty myself, " Cumming said, stroking his chinthoughtfully, "I admit that beats me altogether. By the way, " he said, suddenly, "I saw in the official report that he had a mortgage offifteen thousand on the estate. Do you mind telling me how that cameabout? It may possibly help us. "

"I have not the least idea. I never heard of the existence of themortgage until Brander wrote to me himself about it at the time hebought the estate; but he gave me an explanation that perfectlysatisfied me at the time. "

Mr. Cumming looked at him inquiringly. 

"It was an explanation, " Cuthbert said, after a pause, "that closed mylips altogether on the subject. But in the present strange state ofaffairs 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 amatter that had long been troubling him. I gathered from the way he putit that it was some folly with a woman in his early years, and I neednot say that respect for my father's memory prevented me from pursuingthe matter further. Brander said that he had himself advanced the moneyon the mortgage in order that the business should be done privately andwithout any third person being cognizant of it. "

Cumming sat thoughtfully for a minute without speaking and then he leaptsuddenly to his feet and put his hand on Cuthbert's shoulder. 

"You take my word for it, Mr. Hartington, that mortgage was just as mucha bogus affair as the transfer. The one supplies the motive we have beenlooking for for the other. The failure of the bank brought Faircloseinto the market, and not only did Brander purchase it for ten or fifteenthousand below its value at any other time, but he gained anotherfifteen thousand by this bogus mortgage. There is your motive for theforgery of your father's name on the transfer. "

"I cannot believe it, " Cuthbert said, slowly. "Brander could never besuch a scoundrel as that. Besides, of course, the men who wound up theaffairs of the bank would look closely into the mortgage. Whether itwas real or whether it was a forgery, Brander would equally haveobtained the money at my father's death, so your supposition of a motivefails. "

"I do not know. Had the claim been made direct to you, you wouldnaturally have got some sharp lawyer to investigate it, and, it wouldhave been inquired into a good deal more closely than the officialliquidator probably took the trouble to do. A mortgage, of which no oneknows anything until after the mortgagor's death, would always be lookedupon with suspicion, and some collateral proofs would be required. Ofcourse, I may be wrong altogether, but it would be well for you toascertain whether the official liquidator did take any steps to obtainsuch evidence. "

"That I will certainly do, " Cuthbert said. "I did write to him at thetime, and I am bound to say his answer seemed entirely satisfactory andstraightforward. He said that Mr. Brander had given proof that he diddraw a check for the amount of the mortgage on the day on which it wasexecuted, and although he did not show that interest had beenspecifically paid by checks from my father, there were receipts foundamong my father's papers for the half-yearly payments of interest. Thesewere, it seemed, settled, when Brander, who collected his rents, made uphis accounts with him. "

"That all seems straightforward enough, Mr. Hartington, and as long asthere was no ground for suspicion would doubtless pass muster, but it iscertainly worth while inquiring into. "

Cuthbert sat silent for some time. 

"After all the whole of this is but the barest suspicion, " he said. "Theonly thread of fact being that the transfer was kept secret from thedirectors, of which no doubt Brander will be able to give some plausibleexplanation, and his character stands so high at Abchester that thequestion, if raised, would be scouted as an atrocious libel upon him. But supposing that we had absolute proof, I don't see how I shouldstand. 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 hasin fact been sold and the proceeds divided long ago who should I have togo against?"

"That is a matter for the lawyers, Mr. Hartington, but I imagine youwould not have to go back on the creditors to the bank. You would simplyprove 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 yourplea would be that the signature was obtained from you by fraud. "

"I did not sign the deeds, " Cuthbert said. "Brander pointed out that, asI had not received any rents or profits, it would be better that Ishould stand out of it altogether, and that the will should not beproved, as otherwise the death dues would be charged upon it, andtherefore 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 claimwhatever on the property, if the transfer was a forgery, the sale wouldbe 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, inhis, be in strict accordance with justice. However, this is a matter forwhich, of course, you will require the best legal opinion, but all thatis for after consideration. The great difficulty, and I grant that Idon't see how it is to be got over, is to prove that your father'ssignature to the transfer was a forgery. The first step is to ascertainwhether the attesting witnesses were actually present as they shouldhave been when your father's signature was affixed. "

"I will clear up that point anyhow, " Cuthbert said; "I will go straightfrom Brussels to England, see the clerks, and hear what they have to sayon the matter. If they were present and saw my father sign the transferthere is an end to the whole affair. "

The other nodded. 

"I would not mind wagering a hundred pounds to one that you find thatthey were not present. "

"Well, that will soon be settled, for I have heard this afternoon thatthe conditions of surrender were signed this morning and that to-morrowthe forts are to be given over, and an armistice will commence. In thatcase I suppose that foreigners will meet with no difficulty in obtainingpasses to leave at once. Well, I am very much obliged to you for thesuggestion you have made, Mr. Cumming, though I have, I confess, verylittle faith indeed that anything will come of it, and just at presentit seems to me that I would much rather the matter had remained as itwas. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The next morning Cuthbert drove to Madame Michaud's. 

"You are looking better, Mary, " he said, as he entered; "why, you havegot quite a pretty color in your cheeks. "

"Don't talk nonsense, please. I am better, a great deal better, but itis no wonder I have a color, I have been blushing with shame at my ownfolly ever since you were here. "

"If you never do anything more foolish than that, you will get throughlife well enough. Appearances were against me, and you jumped atconclusions 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 Cumming?" she asked, quickly. 

"Yes, " he answered, in some surprise, "though what should make youassociate 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, didyou learn what you wanted?"

"Not altogether, " he said, "but it is all a matter of conjecture, Mary, and I own that it has worried me a bit, and, indeed, I am sorry I wentto him at all. However, as it is business and ladies are not good atbusiness, suppose we talk of something else. "

Mary made no reply, but sat looking at him while she twisted her fingersnervously 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 strangethat he should not have prevented Mr. Hartington from buying thoseshares. I don't know much of business, but I have thought a great dealabout it, and it has always seemed a strange affair to me, and I haveworried a great deal over it since he bought the house. That is onereason why I hate going there. "

"Perhaps your father was not quite so prudent in the matter as he mighthave been, Mary, " Cuthbert said, trying to speak lightly, though hefound 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 subjectagain--it seems that we are to hit on difficult subjects this morning. The gates will probably be opened, at any rate to the foreigners, in aday or two. Are you thinking of going home to prepare yourself fortaking up your vocation as a nurse?"

"Not yet, " she replied, "there is no hurry for that, and it will be sometime before the country is settled. "

"You are sure that you have not changed your mind again?"

"No, why should I?"

"I thought perhaps you might have done so, and might possibly beinclined towards the vocation you so scornfully repudiated when Isuggested it before. I intended to ask you yesterday, but it would nothave been fair when you were so weak and shaken. "

The girl had glanced at him and had then flushed hotly. 

"I don't know--I am not sure--what you mean. "

"And I am sure that you know very well, Mary, that I mean the vocationof taking care of me, which you repudiated with scorn--in fact refusedto entertain it seriously at all. Of course there may have been othergrounds, but the one you laid stress on was that I was lazy andpurposeless, and that if you ever did take up such a vocation it wouldbe to take care of some one you could respect. I don't say for aninstant that I approach to that altitude, but at least I may say I am nolonger an idler, that I have worked hard, and that I have every hope ofsuccess. You see, too, that I want you more than I did then. I am a poorartist and not the heir to a good estate. But as you are fond ofsacrificing yourself, that may not be altogether an objection. At anyrate, dear, I think I shall be able to keep you comfortably. I am notsure I should ever have mustered up courage enough to have spoken onthis subject again, had it not been for yesterday. But that gave me alittle hope that you really had come to care about me a little, and thatpossibly you might be willing to change your plans again in my favor. "

"I did not think you really loved me then, " she said. "I thought it wasjust a passing fancy. "

"You see it was not, dear. All these months that I have worked hard, itwas partly from the love of art and with the hope that I might be areally great artist, but at the bottom of it all along has been thethought of you and the determination that in one respect I would becomeworthy 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. Youwere right when you said I was not yet a woman, for I had never foundthat I had a heart. It is I who am unworthy. "

"Well, it is no question of worthiness now. The question is do you loveme as I love you. "

"Are you sure you do, Cuthbert? I have thought all these months that youhad taken me at my word, and that it was but as a friend you regardedme. Are you sure it is not gratitude for what little I did for you inthe hospital! Still more that it is not because I showed my feelings soplainly the day before yesterday, and that it is from pity as well asgratitude that you speak now. "

"Then you were really a little jealous, Mary?"

"You know I was. It was shameful of me to show it, so shameful that Ihave hated myself since. I know that after doing so, I ought to sayno--no a thousand times. I love you, Cuthbert, I love you; but I wouldrather 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 took herhand. "You know I love you truly. Surely my pictures must have told youthat. 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 thefirst time I really knew----" and she stopped. 

"That you loved me, darling?" and he drew her closer to him. "Now, yougave me a straightforward answer before--I insist on as straightforwarda one now. "

And this time the answer was not, No. 

"Mind, " he said a few minutes afterwards, "your vocation is definitelyfixed at last, Mary, and there must be no more changing. "

"As if you did not know there won't be, " she said, saucily. And thensuddenly altering her tone she went on, "Now, Cuthbert, you will surelytell me what you would not before. What did you find out? It issomething about my father, I am sure. "

"Let me think before I answer you, " he said, and then sat silent for twoor three minutes. "Well, " he said, at last, "I think you have a right toknow. You may be sure that in any case I should before, for your sake, have done everything in my power towards arranging things amicably withhim. Now, of course, that feeling is vastly stronger, and for my ownsake as well as yours I should abstain from any action against him. Mind, at present I have only vague suspicions, but if those suspicionsturn out true, it will be evident that your father has been pursuing avery tortuous policy, to put it no stronger, in order to gain possessionof Fairclose. I cannot say definitely as yet what I shall do, but atpresent I incline to the opinion that I shall drop the matteraltogether. "

"Not for my sake, Cuthbert, " she said, firmly. "I have always feltuneasy about it. I can scarcely say why, but I am afraid it is so. Ofcourse I know my father better than people in general do. I have knownthat he was not what he seemed to be. It has always been my soresttrouble, 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 doneanything absolutely wrong--it seems terrible that I should even thinksuch a thing possible--but if it has been so--I know you will not exposehim. "

"We will not talk any more about it, dear, " Cuthbert interrupted; "it isall the vaguest suspicion, so let us put it aside altogether now. Justat present I am a great deal too happy to give as much as a thought tounpleasant matters. We have to attend to the business of the hour, andyou have the two years of love of which I have been deprived to make upfor. "

"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 everhave come to look up to you and honor you as I do now. I should neverhave been cured of my silly ideas, and might even have thought that Ihad made some sort of sacrifice in giving up my plans. Besides, then youwere what people call a good match, and now no one can think that it isnot for love only. "

"Well, at any rate, Mary, we shall have between us enough to keep us outof the workhouse even if I turn out an absolute failure. "

"You know you won't do that. "

"I hope not, but at any rate one is liable to illness, to loss ofsight, and all sorts of other things, and as we have between us fourhundred a year we can manage very comfortably, even if I come to an endof my ardor for work and take to idleness again. "

"I am not afraid of that, " she smiled, "after painting those twopictures, you could not stop painting. I don't think when anyone can dogood work of any sort, he can get tired of it, especially when the workis art. My only fear is that I shan't get my fair share of your time. "

"Well, if I see you getting jealous, Mary, I have the means of reducingyou to silence by a word. "

"Have you, indeed? Will you please tell me what word is that?"

"I shall just say, Minette!"

Mary's color 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. "

"It was quite fair, Cuthbert. It will always be a painful recollectionto me, and I hope a lesson too. "

"It will not be a painful recollection to me, " he laughed. "I think Iowe Minette a debt of gratitude. Now, what do you say to taking a drive, Mary? Horse-flesh has gone down five hundred per cent. In the market inthe last three days, and I was able to get a fiacre on quite reasonableterms. "

"Is it waiting here still? How extravagant, Cuthbert, it must have beenhere nearly an hour. "

"I should say I have been here over two hours and a quarter according tothat clock. "

"Dear me, what will Madame Michaud think? Shall I tell her, Cuthbert?"

"I don't care a snap what she thinks. You can do just as you like abouttelling her. Perhaps it will be as well, as I intend to see a good dealof you in the next few days. But if you write home don't say anythingabout it. There are reasons which we can talk over another time, why itwill be best to keep it to ourselves for a time. "

Mary nodded. That he wished a thing was quite sufficient for her at thepresent 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 purchasedat the conclusion of an arrangement such as we have just entered into, and I thought you might just as well chose one yourself. "

"Oh, I would much rather not, " she exclaimed, "and besides, I think forto-day I would rather sit quiet and think it all over and realize howhappy I am. "

"Well, for to-day you shall have your own way, Mary, but you have beendoing a good deal more thinking than is good for you, and after to-daywe must go out for a good walk regularly. You see we have both to get upour 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, andyou know, after all, happiness is the best tonic. "

"Then I must be perfectly cured already, Cuthbert, but remember you musttake care of yourself. The best of tonics won't set any one up at oncewho has had a real illness as you have had. You want something moresubstantial. Good strong soups and roast beef are the essentials in yourcase. Remember, sir, I have been your nurse and mean to continue so tillyour cure is complete. You will come again to-morrow, Cuthbert?"

"Of course, dear. Now about that ring. I have observed you never wearone. Have you one you can lend me, or must I measure with a piece ofthread?"

"I will get you one, Cuthbert. I am not without such a possessionalthough 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 suchthings. What a little fool you must have thought me, Cuthbert?"

The next morning when Cuthbert came Mary had her things on in readinessto go out with him, and after a short delay to admire and try on thering, they set out together. 

"I did not tell you yesterday, Mary, " Cuthbert said, after they hadwalked a short distance, "that as soon as the arrangements forforeigners to leave the town are settled, I am going to Brussels withCumming. 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 meansof enabling the police to trace him here and to demand his extradition. After that I shall go on to England to make some inquiries that areessential. I will give you all particulars if you wish it, but I thinkit will be very much better that you shall know nothing about thematter; it may turn out to be nothing at all; it may on the other handbe extremely important. It is a painful business anyhow, but in any caseI 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 rather know nothing aboutit. But mind, Cuthbert, you must do what you think is right and bestwithout any question about me. If you have been wronged you must rightyourself, and I am sure that in doing so you will do it as gently andkindly as possible. "

"I will try to do so, " he said. "At present, as I told you, thesuspicions are very vague and rest entirely upon the statement Cumminghas made. If those suspicions should be verified, a great wrong has beendone and that wrong must be righted, but that can no doubt be arrangedwithout publicity or scandal. The reason why I do not wish you to say aword about our engagement is, that were it known it would tie my handsterribly and render it so impossible for me to take any strong ground, that I should be altogether powerless. "

"Do entirely as you think best, Cuthbert. Of course, beyond the factthat perhaps something wrong may have been done, I have not an idea whatit can be, and I do not want to know, unless it must be told me. Howlong 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 howlong I shall be, not long I hope. You may be sure that I shall not belonger 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 aboutme 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? What would they thinkof 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 theirway in a carriage to the Belgian frontier, and then went on by train toBrussels, where, on the day after their arrival, Cumming drew up andsigned a statement with reference to the details of his transference ofthe shares to Mr. Hartington, and swore to its contents before a Belgianlegal official. 

"I shall stay here for a few days, " he said to Cuthbert, as the latterstarted 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 awayfrom decent living, until Paris is re-victualled, and one can live therein comfort again. I wish you every success in your search. The more Ithink of it the more convinced I am that we are not far wrong as to themanner in which Brander has got hold of your estate. "

Cuthbert, on arriving in London, took up his quarters at the CharingCross Hotel. On the morning after his arrival he wrote a letter to Dr. Edwardes, 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 write 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 myself in the way of meeting him as he went to the office this morning. I stopped and chatted with him for a minute or two, and asked him carelessly how Mr. Harford was and whether he ever heard from him. He said he heard occasionally and that he was well. 'By the way, where is he working now?' I asked, 'I know he went up to a firm in town. ' 'Oh, yes, he is with Barrington and 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 a billet, Doctor. I should be very glad of a change. ' 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 life. I fancy Mrs. B. Is rather a disappointed woman. The fact is there was a good deal of feeling in the 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 any rate 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 atonce went to Essex Street. Several clerks were writing in the office. Alad 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 isHartington. "

"I remember you very well, Mr. Hartington, though you are changed a gooddeal. "

"I have had a sharp illness, but I am getting over it now. Iparticularly wished to speak to you about a matter in connection with myfather's affairs. I am staying at the Charing Cross Hotel and shouldfeel very much obliged if, when you leave here, you would come round fora few minutes. "

"With pleasure, sir, but I shall not get away till seven. "

"That will do very well, " Cuthbert said. "I would not have troubled youhad it not been important. "

A few minutes past seven the clerk was shown into Cuthbert's room. Afterasking him to take a chair Cuthbert said--

"As you are aware, Mr. Harford, my loss of the Fairclose estates arosefrom the unfortunate circumstances of my father having taken a fewshares in the Abchester and County Bank. The matter has always been apuzzle 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 myfather, was signed at Mr. Brander's office, I fancy. At any rate, youand Mr. Levison were the attesting witnesses to my father's signature. Have you any memory of the transaction, and would you object to tellwhat took place?"

"I remember about the transfer, Mr. Hartington, because, when the crashcame, everything connected with it was talked over. In point of fact, wedid not see Mr. Hartington's signature actually attached. He called atthe office one day, and just after he had left Mr. Brander called us inand said, 'Please witness Mr. Hartington's signature. ' Of course, weboth knew it very well and witnessed it. I did not notice the names onthe body of the transfer, though, of course, I knew from the appearanceof the document what it was, but Mr. Brander just pointed out where wewere to sign and we signed. The only thing I noticed was that as I wrotemy eye fell on the top line, and I saw that it was dated ten daysearlier. "

"Was that unusual?"

"No, documents are often dated at the time they are drawn up, althoughthey may not be signed for some days later. Of course it is not exactlyregular, but it often happens. A form is filled up and one or other ofthe parties may be away or unable to sign. I happened to notice it, butit did not strike me in any way. "

"And were you often called upon to attest signatures in this way withoutseeing them written?"

"There was nothing unusual in it. As a general rule we were called intothe room when a signature had to be witnessed, but it occasionallyhappened, in the case where it was a well-known client and we wereperfectly acquainted with the signature, that we did not sign until hehad left the office. "

"Do you remember if such a thing ever happened any other time in thecase of my father!"

"Only once, I think, and that was afterwards. We signed then aswitnesses to his signature to a legal document. I don't know what itsnature was. It was done in the same manner directly Mr. Hartington haddriven away. "

"It might have been a mortgage deed. "

"It might have been, sir, but as I saw only the last page of it, and asthere 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 thedocument. "

"May I ask if you have left the office at Abchester on pleasant termswith Mr. Brander and his partner, for, of course, you know that he stilltakes an interest in the firm. "

"Oh, yes, it is still carried on as Brander and Jackson, and Branderstill goes down there for an hour or two every day. Yes, I left onpleasant terms enough, that is to say, I left of my own free will. I hadfor some time wished to come up to London, and hearing through a friendin this office of a vacancy at Barrington and Smiles, I applied and wasfortunate enough to get it. "

Cuthbert sat silent for a time. So far the answers he had receivedtallied precisely with Cumming's theory. He did not see how he couldcarry the inquiry farther here at present. The clerk, who was watchinghim closely, was the first to speak. 

"I own, Mr. Hartington, that I do not in the slightest degree understandthe gist of your questions, but I can well imagine that at the presentmoment you are wondering whether it would be safe to ask farther. Iwill, 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 man himself. The general opinion of him was that hewas a public-spirited and kind-hearted man. I can only say that ouropinion of him in the office was a very different one. He was a hardman, and frequently when pretending to be most lenient to tenants on theestates to which he was agent, or to men on whose lands he heldmortgages, he strained the law to its utmost limits. I will not say morethan that, but I could quote cases in which he put on the screw in a waythat was to my mind most absolutely unjustifiable, and I had been for avery long time trying to get out of his office before the opportunitycame. I may also say, Mr. Hartington, that I had the highest respect foryour father. He always had a kind word when he came into the office, andregularly at Christmas he handed Levison and myself a check for tenpounds each, for, as he said, the trouble his business gave us. I tellyou this in order that you may feel you can safely repose any confidencein me, and that my advice will be wholly at your service if you shouldthink fit to give me your confidence in this matter, whatever it maybe. But at the same time I must say it would be still better if you putyourself in the hands of some respectable firm of solicitors. I do notsuggest my own principals more than others, although few men standhigher in the profession. "

"There are reasons against my laying the matter before any firm ofsolicitors, and the chief of these is that my hands are tied in apeculiar manner, and that I am unable to carry it through to its naturalsequence, but I will very thankfully accept your offer and will franklytell you the nature of my suspicions, for they are nothing more thansuspicions. I may first say that the news that my father was ashareholder in the Abchester Bank astounded me. For a time, I put itdown to one of those sudden impulses that are unaccountable, but I maytell you, and here my confidence begins, that I have come acrossCumming, the bank manager, and from him have obtained some curiousparticulars of this transaction--particulars that have excited mysuspicions. 

"You wondered why I asked you those questions. I will tell you. You didnot see my father affix his signature to either of those documents. Theone being certainly the transfer of some of Cumming's shares to him. Theother being, as I believe, the mortgage that, as you doubtless heard, Mr. Brander held over my father's estate. How could you tell those twosignatures 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 mustadmit it is possible. "

"But in that case, " the clerk said, after a pause, "Brander himself musthave been the forger, and surely that is not possible. I fancy I knowMr. Brander pretty well, but I should never have dreamt him capable offorgery. Not because I have a high opinion of his honesty, but because Ibelieve him to be a cautious man, and besides I do not see what possibleinterest he could have had in ruining your father by putting his nameon to the register of shareholders. Even if he had an interest in sodoing the risk of detection would be frightful, for not only would thematter be known to the directors, but, as you are aware, any shareholderhas a right on the payment of a nominal fee to inspect the list ofshareholders. "

"Precautions were taken against this, " Cuthbert said. "Just glancethrough this paper, which has been signed and sworn to by Cumming inproper form at Brussels. "

Mr. Harford ran his eye over the document and then read it throughcarefully word by word. 

"This is an extraordinary statement, " he said, gravely, "do you believeit, Mr. Hartington?"

"I believe it implicitly. I had the man practically at my mercy. As youknow, there is a warrant out for his arrest and a word from me wouldhave set the police on his track and led to an application for hisextradition. Therefore he had every motive for telling me the truth, andI am as certain as I can be, that he did so. "

"If so there can be no question that Mr. Brander had some very strongreason indeed for preventing the knowledge of this transfer having everbeen made from being known; but in any case it must have come out whenthe bank failed and of course he must have had a pretty accurateknowledge of the state of its affairs. "

"Yes, but it man be that he had an equally accurate knowledge of thestate of my father's health. That would account for what Cumming says asto his offer to bolster up the bank for a time, and for a retraction ofthat 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?He had no cause of enmity against you, had he, sir?"

"None, so far as I knew but now we come to the other document where youwitnessed the signature without having seen it signed. If the signatureon the transfer was a forgery, why not that on the mortgage, if it wasthe mortgage. If so you see the motive of the transfer. The smash of thebank brought a good many estates into the market and they wouldconsequently go cheap. Not only would he get it far below its value, butby reason of this pretended mortgage he would get a further drawback of£15, 000 from the price he would pay as its purchase. "

"Good heavens, Mr. Hartington! You take my breath away! Have you anyreason whatever for believing that the mortgage was a bogus one?"

"None, beyond the fact that I was ignorant of its existence. I was sosurprised that I not only wrote to Brander himself but to the officialliquidator. The former said he had advanced the money at the urgentrequest of my father, who told him he wished to settle a very longstanding claim upon him, and that he desired that the transaction shouldbe kept an absolute secret. The official liquidator said he had gonecarefully into the question of the mortgage, that it was of three years, standing, that the receipts Mr. Brander had given my father for thehalf-yearly interest on the money had been found among my father'spapers, and that Brander had moreover produced a document, showing thathe had sold securities to that amount, and had drawn the money from hisbankers in town by a singled check for £15, 000. Do you remember whethersuch a deed was ever drawn up in the office?"

"Certainly it was not, but you see that proves nothing, for it was to bekept a secret. Brander might have had it drawn up by some solicitor inLondon. "

"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 curiousthat a deed between Brander and Mr. Hartington should not have beengiven 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 satdown hurriedly after he had signed it, and dipping my pen too deeply inthe ink, made a blot. It was no doubt a stupid thing to do, but Branderwas so unreasonably angry about it, and blew me up so roughly that Imade up my mind there and then to stand it no longer, and wrote thatvery evening to my friend in my present office the letter which led tomy getting the situation there two or three months later. "

"That blot may be a most important one, " Cuthbert said, "if it occurs onthe mortgage deed on Fairclose, it is clear that document was not, as itprofesses on its face, executed three years earlier. "

"That would be so indeed, " Mr. Harford exclaimed, excitedly; "it wouldbe a piece of evidence there would be no getting over, and that factwould account for Brander's anger, which seemed to me was out of allproportion to the accident. If you could show that the mortgage deed onwhich Brander claimed is really that document we witnessed, it would beall up with him. As to the receipts for the payments of interest theyproved nothing as they were, of course, in Brander's own handwriting andwere found where he put them. If you could find out that Brander hadknowledge of Mr. Hartington's state of health about the time thattransfer was produced you would strengthen your case. It seems to methat he must have got an inkling of it just before he filled up thetransfer, and that he ante-dated it a week so that it would appear tohave been signed before he learnt about his illness. I can see no otherreason for the ante-dating it. "

"That may have been the reason, " Cuthbert agreed. "It was one of thepoints for which Cumming and I, talking it over, could see no motive. Certainly he would wish that if anyone said to him you ought to haveprevented Mr. Hartington buying those shares when you knew that he wasin a precarious state of health, to be able to reply that when theshares were bought he had not the slightest idea of his being inanything but the best of health. "

"At any rate I will see Dr. Edwardes, and ascertain exactly when he didtell Brander. He is certain to be able by turning back to his visitingbook, 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 questionof the date of the deed you have him completely on the hip. Still itwill be a very difficult case to carry through, especially if you cannotget Cumming to come into court. "

"But, as I began by telling you, I cannot carry out the case to alegitimate conclusion, nor do I want the intervention of lawyers in thematter. I want the estate back again if I can get it, but rather thanthis matter should be made public I would not lift a little finger toregain the property. It happens, " and he smiled dryly, "that Mr. Brander's reputation is almost as dear to me as it is to him, for I amgoing to marry his daughter. We should not feel quite comfortabletogether, you see, at the thought that the father was working out asentence of penal servitude. "

"That is an unfortunate combination indeed, Mr. Hartington, " Mr. Harfordsaid seriously, though he could not repress a smile of amusement at theunexpected news. "Then it seems to me, sir, that Brander may in factsnap his fingers at any threat you may hold out, for he would feelcertain that you would never take any steps that would make the matterpublic. "

"Fortunately, " Cuthbert replied. "Mr. Brander is wholly unaware of thelittle fact I have mentioned, and is likely to remain so until mattersare finally arranged between us. "

"That is indeed fortunate. Then I understand, Mr. Hartington, yourobject is to obtain so strong a proof of Brander's share in this affairas will place you in a position to go down to him, and force him intosome satisfactory arrangement with you. "

"That is it, and it is clear the first step will be to see the officialliquidator and to obtain a sight of the mortgage. "

"I suppose you know that he is the head of the firm of Cox, Tuke, andAtkinson, in Coleman Street. I suggest that the best plan will be to seehim to-morrow, and to make an appointment with him for you to inspectthe mortgage. You would wish me, of course, to be with you when you doso?"

"Think you very much. I will go round there in the morning, and willcall at your office afterwards and let you know if I have arranged thematter, 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, wascourteously received by him. 

"Of course, I remember your name, Mr. Hartington, with reference to theAbchester Bank failure. It seemed a particularly hard case, and I knowour Mr. Wanklyn, who had charge of the winding up, took particularinterest in it, and personally consulted me more than once about it, though I cannot exactly recall the circumstances now. What is it thatyou say you want to examine?"

"I want to have a look at the deed of mortgage that Mr. Brander, whopurchased the property, had upon it. "

"Yes, I remember now, that was one of the points on which Mr. Wanklynconsulted me. It struck him at first sight as being rather a remarkabletransaction, and he went into it carefully, but it was all proved to becorrect to his satisfaction. It is unfortunate that the system ofregistering mortgages is not enforced everywhere as it is in London--itwould save a great deal of trouble in such cases as the present. "

"Are the affairs of the bank quite wound up?"

"Dear me, no, Mr. Hartington. Why, it is but two years since thefailure. There are properties to be realized that cannot be forced onthe market without ruinous loss. There are assets which will not beavailable until after death; it is not the assets of the bank, but theassets of individual shareholders and debtors of the bank that have tobe collected. I should say it will be at least twenty years before thelast dividend will be divided. I am sure Mr. Wanklyn will be happy tolet you see any document you desire. I will take you to him. "

Mr. Wanklyn had a room on the same floor with his principal, and Mr. Coxtook Cuthbert and introduced him to him. 

"Mr. Hartington wants to have a look at the mortgage that Brander heldon the late Mr. Hartington's estate. You remember we had several talksabout it at the time, and you took a good deal of pains about thematter. Mr. Hartington wrote to me about it from Paris, if yourecollect, and you replied to him in my name. I will leave him with youto 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. "Ionly ask because I suppose the documents connected with the winding upof the bank must weigh several tons, and it will take a considerabletime for a clerk to hunt out the one in question. If you have really anymotive 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. Ihave reason to believe there was some irregularity in the matter. "

"I am afraid it will make but little difference to you whether it was soor not, Mr. Hartington. The creditors of the bank have been thesufferers if there was any irregularity in it. "

"Yes, I suppose so, and yet I assure you it is not a mere matter ofsentiment with me. Other questions might turn upon it. "

"Then I will certainly have it ready for you by to-morrow--give me untilthe afternoon. Will four o'clock suit you?"

"Very well. I will, with your permission, bring with me one of theattesting witnesses to my father's signature. He was one of Mr. Brander's clerks at the time. "

Mr. Wanklyn looked up keenly. 

"You can bring whom you like, " he said, after a pause, "and I will put aroom at your disposal, but of course the document cannot be taken away. "

"Certainly not, Mr. Wanklyn, and I am very much obliged to you forgranting my request. "

Cuthbert called for James Harford at the hour at which he had said hewent out to lunch, and told him of the appointment he had made. 

"I have been thinking it over, Mr. Hartington, and I should recommendyou to bring Cooper with you. "

"Who is Cooper?"

"He is one of our greatest experts on handwriting. I don't know whetheryou have any of your father's letters in your possession. "

"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 ruleexperts differ so absolutely that their evidence is always taken withconsiderable doubt, but it is part of his business to look out forerasures and alterations. It is quite possible Brander may have removedthat blot, and that he has done it so well that neither you nor I coulddetect it; but whether he did it with a knife or chemicals you may besure that Cooper will be able to spot it, whichever he used. I have verylittle doubt that your suspicions are correct and those parchments werereally the pretended mortgage deeds. If you like I will go round and seeCooper at once and arrange for him to meet us in Coleman Streetto-morrow at four o'clock. "

"Thank you very much. The idea of the blot being erased had never struckme. "

The next day Cuthbert met James Harford and Mr. Cooper at the door ofthe accountants, and after being introduced by the clerk to the expertthey went up together. On giving his name in the office a clerk cameacross to him. 

"If you will come with me, gentlemen, I will lead you to the room thatis ready for you. This is the document that you desire to see. "

As soon as they were alone they sat down at the table, and opened thedeed. 

"How is it for size?" Cuthbert asked. 

"It is about the same size, but that is nothing. All deeds are on two orthree sizes of parchment. The last page is the thing. "

Cuthbert turned to it. There were but four lines of writing at the topof the page, and below these came the signatures. 

"Of course I could not swear to it, Mr. Hartington, but it is preciselyin accordance with my recollection. There were either three, four, orfive lines at the top. Certainly not more than five, certainly not lessthan 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 twoletters with the same name there?"

Mr. Cooper took the letter and deed to a desk by the window, examinedthem 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 nothinglike as good as would be made by any expert in signing other people'snames. The tail of the 'J' in James in these two letters runs up intothe '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 takenoff, but the upstroke of the 'J' runs on continuously into the 'a. ' Morenaturally it would be just the other way. In these two letters thewriter 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 thanwhen making a formal signature on parchment. 

"Looking through this glass you will observe also that although theletters run on together there is a slight thickening in the upstrokebetween each letter as if the writer had paused, though without takinghis pen off, to examine the exact method of making the next letter in acopy lying before him. In the surname there are half a dozen points ofdifference. To begin with, the whole writing slopes less than in theother signatures. In both your father's letters the cross of the first't' is much lower than usual and almost touches the top of the 'r' andi. ' The same peculiarity is shown in the second 't' in both letters, while on the deed the 't's' are crossed a good deal higher. The wholeword is more cramped, the flourish at the end of the 'n' is longer butless free. In the capital letter, the two downstrokes are a good dealcloser together. There has been the same pause between each letter asthose I pointed out in the Christian name, and indeed the glass showsyou 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 isnot only a forgery but a clumsy one, and would be detected at once byanyone who had the original signatures before him. I will even go so faras to say that I doubt if any bank clerk well acquainted with Mr. Hartington's signature would pass it. "

"And now for the blot, " Cuthbert said. "There was a blot somewhere nearthe signature of Mr. Harford. "

"Don't tell me where it was, Mr. Harford. I would rather not know itsexact position. "

With the aid of the magnifying glass the expert carefully examined theparchment 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 itdid not show up very strongly. "

"An eraser has been used and a chemical of some sort, and the twoletters involved in the blot have been re-written, or at any ratetouched up, but they have run a little. You can see it quite plainlythrough this lens. The difference between their outline and that of theother letters is quite distinct, and by holding the parchment so thatthe light falls across it, you can see that, although it has beenrubbed, probably by the handle of a penknife to give it a gloss, thedifference between that gloss and the rest of the surface, is distinctlyvisible. "

"I see that, " the clerk said, "and I should be quite prepared to swearnow, Mr. Hartington, that this is the document I signed some three weeksafter I signed as witness to the transfer. "

"That is quite good enough, I think, " Cuthbert said. "Thank you, Mr. Cooper, you have quite settled the doubt I had in my mind. I do notthink I shall have occasion to ask you to go into court over thismatter, but should I have to do so I will, of course, give you duenotice. "

After paying the expert's fee Cuthbert went into the office and handedthe 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 bewanted again. It is of the highest importance. "

After parting with Mr. Cooper at the door, Cuthbert walked westward withMr. Harford. 

"So far you have proved that your suspicions are correct, sir, and Ihave not the least doubt that your father's signature to the transferwas, like this, a forgery. May I ask what step you propose to take next?Of course if your object was not to prevent publicity your course wouldbe clear. You would first apply for a warrant for the arrest of Branderon a charge of double forgery. When that was proved, you would have totake steps to apply to have it declared that your father's name waswrongfully placed among the shareholders of the bank, and then endeavorto obtain a decree ordering the liquidator to reimburse the proceeds ofthe sale of the estate and all other moneys received by him from yourfather'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 becausethe liquidators could not give a title. Of course in all these steps youwould have to be guided by a firm of high standing, but as youparticularly wish to avoid publicity, I suppose your first step will beto confront Brander with the proofs of his guilt. I suppose you wouldwish me to go down with you. I shall be able to do so withoutdifficulty, for I took no holiday last year and can, therefore, get twoor three days whenever I choose to ask for them. "

"Thank you, Mr. Harford. It will certainly be desirable that I should bebacked up by your presence. The first thing I shall do will be to godown to Abchester to see Dr. Edwardes. I want to ascertain from him whenhe first knew of my father having heart-disease. That he did know itbefore his death I am aware, though, at my father's particular request, he abstained from informing me of the fact. He may also know whenBrander first became acquainted with it. It will strengthen my case muchif I am in a position to show that it was after he had the knowledgethat my father's death might take place at any moment, that he committedthese frauds. As soon as I find this out, which will probably be in afew hours after my arrival there, I will send you a telegram. I amanxious to lose no time, because I do not want Brander to know of myarrival in Abchester until I confront him. If I could find out what hedid with the £15, 000 he proved to the liquidator that he had drawn outon the day this mortgage was said to have been executed, I should havethe chain of evidence complete, but I don't see how that is to be gotat. "

"It might be got at by advertisements, Mr. Hartington; £15, 000 is alarge sum, and were you to advertise a reward of £100 for information asto whom Mr. Brander paid the sum of £15, 000 on the date named in themortgage, it is quite probable you might obtain the information. "

"I might get it that way, but unless it is absolutely necessary I wouldrather not do so. Were I to advertise before I see him, he might havehis attention drawn to it, and it would put him on his guard. I can butresort to it afterwards if he refuses to come to terms. "

Accordingly, the next day Cuthbert went down to Abchester, travelling bya train that arrived there after dark, and taking a fly, drove to Dr. Edwardes'. 

The servant took in his name and the doctor at once hurried out into thehall. 

"Why, my dear Cuthbert, I am glad indeed to see you, though from yourletter I had hardly hoped to do so for some little time. Come in, comein; 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. Edwardesexclaimed, after the first greetings were over. 

"I have been ill, but I am quite convalescent now. I did rather afoolish thing, Doctor. I joined a corps of Franc-tireurs raised in theschools and studios, and the Germans put a bullet through my body. Itwas a very near squeak of it, but fortunately I was taken to theAmerican ambulance, which was far the best in Paris, and they pulled methrough. It is but ten days since I was discharged cured, but of courseit 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, asCuthbert laid his finger on the spot; "the odds were twenty to oneagainst you. Did they get the bullet out?"

"It went out by itself, Doctor. We were at close quarters in the villageof Champigny when we made our sortie on the 1st of December, so the ballwent right through, and almost by a miracle, as the surgeon said, without injuring anything vital. There is the dinner-bell, Doctor. Iwill go into your surgery and wash my hands. I remember the ways of theplace, you see. "

During dinner-time the talk was entirely of the siege. When the meal wasover, the doctor and Cuthbert went to the former's study, where thedoctor lighted a cigar and Cuthbert his pipe. 

"How are they getting on at Fairclose?" Cuthbert asked, carelessly. 

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. 

"I should say they heartily regret having changed their quarters. Ofcourse it was her doing that they did so. She is a curious mixture ofcleverness and silliness. Her weak point is her ambition to be in countysociety, and to drop the town altogether. She has always been hankeringfor that. No doubt it is partly for the sake of the girls--at least shealways lays it to that. But when I used to attend them as babies, shewas 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 theplace, Brander went a good deal into the county. Of course his wife didbelong to a county family, and no doubt that helped open the doors ofmany good houses to him. Well, he is in the county now, but he is not ofthe county. There was naturally a lot of bad feeling about the smash ofthat bank. A good many men besides yourself were absolutely ruined, andas everyone banked there, there was scarce a gentleman in the county ora tradesman in the town, who was not hit more or less severely. The ideawas 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 astate. I think they were wrong, for I imagine from what I heard, thatBrander was correct in saying that he was not in any way in the counselsof the directors, but confined himself to strictly legal business, suchas investigating titles and drawing up mortgages, and that he was onlypresent at the Board meetings when he was consulted on some legalquestions. 

"Still there is no stemming the tide of popular opinion. Abchesterdemanded a scapegoat. Cumming had disappeared, the five directors wereruined, and so they fell upon Brander. He could have got overthat--indeed he has got over it as far as the town is concerned--but hispurchase of Fairclose set the county against him. They considered thathe got it for £20, 000 below its value, which was true enough; the otherestates that went into the market were all sold at an equaldepreciation, but it was felt somehow that he at least ought not to haveprofited by the disaster, and altogether there was so strong a feelingagainst him that the county turned its back on Fairclose. "

"By the way, Doctor, can you tell me when and how you first became awareof the state of my father? The loss was so recent that I asked but fewquestions about it when I was here, though you told me that you hadknown it for some little time. "

"I can give you the exact date, " the doctor said, stretching out hishand for a book on his desk. "Yes, here it is; it was the 23rd of March. His man rode down with the news that he had found him insensible. Ofcourse I went up as hard as my horse could carry me. He had recoveredconsciousness when I got there, and his first request was that I shouldsay nothing about his illness. When I examined him, I found that hisheart was badly diseased, so badly that I told him frankly he had notmany 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 muchrather go on as he was. The only exception he made was Brander. He wasthe only soul to whom I spoke of it. I called in and told him directly Igot back here and he went that afternoon to Fairclose. "

The date was conclusive to Cuthbert. The transfer had been ante-datedsome three weeks; and the two clerks, therefore, attested it on the 24thor 25th of March; so Brander had lost no time in conceiving his plan andcarrying it into execution. 

"By the way, Doctor, " he said, after a pause, "I shall be glad if youwill not mention to anyone that I am here. I don't want people to becoming to see me, and I would especially rather not see Brander. I neverdid like the man from the time I was a boy, and I don't think I couldstand either his business manner or his hearty one. I thought I wouldcome down and have the pleasure of a chat with you again for a day ortwo, but I don't mean to stir out while I am here. "

The next morning Cuthbert obtained a telegraph form from the doctor andsent his man with it to the post-office. It was directed to Harford, andcontained only the words, "Come down this evening if possible. Put up atthe George. Come round in the morning to Dr. Edwardes. '"

Cuthbert was really glad of the day's rest, and felt all the better forit. On the following morning Harford's name was brought in just asbreakfast was over. 

"It is the man who was Brander's clerk, Doctor, " he said. "I met him intown 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 haveany patients come for the next half-hour. "

"That settles it, sir, " the clerk said, when he heard from Cuthbert ofthe date which he had obtained from the doctor, "though I cannot swearto a day. "

"I hear that Brander comes to his office about eleven o'clock. He issure 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 wewill walk there together. I will go in by myself. I will get you to calltwo or three minutes after me, so that I can call you into his privateroom if necessary. "

"You have soon done with him, " the doctor said, as Cuthbert returned tothe 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 histwo girls turned out? I mean the two younger ones; I met Mary in Parisduring the siege. "

"Ah. I heard from Brander that she was shut up there, and I waswondering whether you had run against her. He is very savage at what hecalls her vagaries. Did she get through the starvation all right?"

"Oh, yes, she was living in a French family, and like most of the middleclass they had laid in a fair stock of provisions when it became evidentthe place was to be besieged, and though the supply of meat was stintedI 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 woman's rights in her mind;in all other respects she was a very nice girl, and differed from therest of them as much as chalk from cheese. "

"And what are the sisters like?"

"They are like their mother, vain and affected, only without hercleverness. They feel bitterly their position at Fairclose, and makematters worse by their querulous complainings. I never go into the houseunless I am sent for professionally, for their peevishness and badtemper are intolerable. If things had gone differently, and they hadmade good marriages, they might have turned out pleasant girls enough. As it is they are as utterly disagreeable as any young women I ever cameacross. "

"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 thingthey show off before him much. I fancy Brander's temper has notimproved of late. Of course, in public, he is the same as ever, but Ithink he lets himself loose at home, and I should say that the girls arethoroughly afraid of him. I have noticed anyhow that when he is at homewhen I call, they are on their best behavior, and there is not a word ofany unpleasantness or discontent from their lips. However, I suppose thefeeling 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 wearsoff a bit, people will begin to think they have been rather hard onBrander. There's the surgery bell, now I must leave you to your owndevices. "

At half-past eleven James Harford called, and Cuthbert at once went outwith him, and they walked towards Mr. Brander's office, which was but acouple of hundred yards away. 

"How do you do, Mr. Levison?" Cuthbert asked as he entered. "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 theexclamation--

"My dear----!" then he stopped. 

There was something in the expression of Cuthbert's face that checkedthe 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. Hartington, " thelawyer said, in a blustering tone, though Cuthbert noticed his color hadpaled, and that there was a nervous twitching about the corners of hislips. Brander had felt there was danger, and the blow had come sosuddenly that he had not had time to brace himself to meet it. Withoutpaying any attention to the words, Cuthbert seated himself andrepeated--

"I have come to tell you a story, Mr. Brander. There was once a man whowas solicitor, agent, and friend of a certain land-owner. One day he hadheard from his client's doctor that he had had an attack ofheart-disease and that his life was only worth a few weeks' purchase;also that the landowner desired that an absolute silence should beobserved as to his illness. Then, like another unjust steward, thelawyer sat down to think how he could best turn an honest penny by thenews. It was rather a tough job; it would involve forgery among otherthings, and there was a good deal of risk, but by playing a bold game itmight 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 capon to your own head yet. If you think there is anything in my story of alibellous nature you are at liberty to call your two clerks in to listento it. Well, sir, the scheme this lawyer I am telling you about workedout did credit to his genius--it was complicated, bold, and novel. Ithappened he was solicitor to a bank. He knew the bank was hopelesslyinvolved, that it could last but a few weeks longer, and that itsfailure would involve the whole of the shareholders in absolute ruin. If, therefore, he were to contrive to place his client's name on theregister of shareholders that point would be achieved. Accordingly, having forms by him he filled one up, forging the name of his client. Itwould not have done to have had the date of the transfer later than theseizure of that gentleman, for manifestly no man, aware that he had buta 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. Hewaited for a few days till his client called upon him, and then, afterhis departure, called in his two clerks, who witnessed the signature asa matter of course, --an irregular proceeding, doubtless, but notaltogether uncommon. That matter concluded he went to the bank. It wasabove all things important that none of the directors should becognizant of his client having been put on the register, as beingfriends of that gentleman they might have mentioned the matter to himwhen they met him. Having the manager a good deal under his thumb, fromhis knowledge of the state of affairs, he requested him to pass thetransfer with others at the next board meeting, in such a way that itshould 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 passedunnoticed on to the register. There was one thing further to be done inthis direction, namely, that the bank should not fail before the deathof his client, and he therefore requested the manager to let him knowshould there be any pressure imminent on the bank's resources, offeringto get some of the mortgages it held transferred, and so to bolster upthe bank for a considerable time. As a matter of fact he did raise£20, 000 in this manner, and so kept the bank going until after hisclient's death, when he withdrew the offer, there being no longer anyoccasion 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 color on hischeeks had been replaced by a ghastly pallor. An expression ofbewilderment had come across his face, the perspiration stood out in bigdrops on his forehead. 

"Thus far you see, Mr. Brander, " Cuthbert went on, "the first part ofthe scheme had been ably carried out, but it still remained to reap thebenefit of this ingenuity. In the first place it was certain that theestate of his client would, on the failure of the bank, come into themarket. Under such circumstances, and seeing there would be widespreadruin in the county, the estate would fetch far under its value. It wouldbe advisable to get it cheaper still, and this could be managed by theproduction of a mortgage upon it, and by the invention of a plausibletale to account for that mortgage having been kept a secret even fromthe 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 someoffice in London, the signature of his client affixed as before and thetwo clerks be called in to witness it. 

"It would be necessary to satisfy the official liquidator, however, whomight make some inquiries concerning it. It happened that some timebefore the lawyer had had occasion to pay over the sum of £15, 000, as hewould be able to prove by his bank-book. Therefore, £15, 000 was the sumfixed upon for the mortgage, and the date of that document was made tocoincide with that of the payment of that amount. It was easy enough toplace among the dead man's papers receipts for the half-yearly paymentof this interest. It was not necessary to show that his client had paidthese sums by check, as they would, of course, have been deducted fromthe amount to be handed over by him as agent to his client. 

"The scheme worked admirably. After the death of his client, the bankwas allowed to break, the estate fell into the hands of the officialreceiver of the bank, the mortgage was presented, and the proofsconsidered satisfactory. The lawyer bought the estate for some £20, 000below its value, and this with the mortgage brought the purchase moneydown from £70, 000 to half that sum. The story is interesting, and ifanyone should doubt it I am in a position to prove it up to the hilt. Ihave the sworn statement of the bank manager as to the particulars ofthe interview with him, the injunction that the transfer should bepassed unnoticed, the offer to support the bank, and the partialfulfilment of that offer. I have the opinion of an expert that thesignature is not only a forgery but an exceedingly clumsy one. I havethe statement of one of the clerks that the signature of both thetransfer and the mortgage was witnessed by him and his fellow-clerk inobedience to the orders of the solicitor, but they did not see thesignature affixed. 

"Lastly, I have a singular piece of evidence that the mortgage wassigned not on the date it purported but shortly after the seizure of theclient. The clerk might have had some difficulty in swearing that thismortgage was the document that he signed, as the signatures were writtenon 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 the mortgage in the hands of the officialliquidator, but this is not the crucial point. The clerk, in making hissignature, dropped a blot of ink on the parchment. Now it was clear thatthis blot of ink might prove the means o identifying this document andof proving the time at which it was signed; therefore it was necesssarythat it should be erased. This the lawyer proceeded to do and socleverly that an unpracticed eye would not detect it. The expert, however, though not knowing where the blot had fallen, detected theerasure at once, and noticed that in erasing it two of the letters ofthe name had been involved, and these had been retouched so as to makethem the same darkness as the rest. The chain of evidence is thereforecomplete. "

The last blow had proved too crushing. There was a sudden rush of bloodto his face, and, with a gasping sob, Mr. Brander fell back in his chairinsensible. Cuthbert ran to the door and opened it. 

"Mr. Levison, your employer is taken ill. Send the other clerk to fetchDr. Edwardes at once, he will not have started on his rounds yet. Bringsome water in here. "

With the assistance of the clerk, Cuthbert loosened the lawyer's necktieand collar, swept the papers off the table, and laid him upon it, folding up his great coat and placing it under his head. 

CHAPTER XX. 

"Apoplexy!" Dr. Edwardes exclaimed, as soon as he entered. "Cut hissleeve open, Cuthbert. Fetch a basin, sir, and some water, " he added tothe clerk. 

He took a lancet from his pocket and opened a vein in the arm. At firstonly a few drops of dark-colored 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 isa 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. Ihave told him a good many times that he was too fond of good living anddid not take exercise enough. What brought this about, Cuthbert?"

"We had an unpleasant interview, Doctor. I had some ugly truths to tellhim 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 befit to be moved to-day, and we must make him up a bed here. Directly Isee that he is out of immediate danger, I will send over to Fairclose tobreak the news to his wife. Yes, I will come round and let you know howhe is going on as soon as I can leave him. "

Cuthbert nodded and put on his hat and went out. James Harford wasstanding 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 withouta hat and come back with the doctor two or three minutes later. Will heget over it?"

"The doctor thinks so, and I am sure I most sincerely hope he will doso--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 beneedful for you to confirm my statements. I fancy the fight is all outof him--it came upon him too suddenly--if he had known that I was herehe might have braced himself up, but coming down like an avalanche uponhim it stunned him. Now, Mr. Harford, you must permit me to draw a checkfor ten pounds for your expenses down here; when I come to my own againI shall be able properly to show my gratitude for the inestimableservices you have rendered me. "

"I will take the money for my expenses, Mr. Hartington, but I can assureyou that I have no thought or wish for payment of any kind for my sharein this business, and am only too glad to have been able to give somelittle aid towards righting the grievous harm you have suffered, to saynothing of paying off my old score against Brander. "

Half an hour later Dr. Edwardes returned home. 

"He is conscious now, " he said to Cuthbert. "That is to say, vaguelyconscious. I have not let him speak a word, but simply told him he hadhad a fit and must remain absolutely quiet. I don't suppose he has asyet any recollection whatever of what preceded it. I am going to write anote and send it up to Fairclose. I must keep a close watch over him fora bit, for I have taken a good deal of blood from him. "

"I would rather you did not mention to anyone, Doctor, that I waspresent at the time he had the fit, as things may happen ere long thatwill set people talking, and if it was known that it was during aninterview with me that he had this apoplectic stroke it might give riseto unpleasant surmises--unpleasant not only to him but to me, for--thisis also a secret at present--I am going to marry his eldest daughter!"

"You don't say so, Cuthbert. Well, I congratulate you, for she is acharming girl. I need not say that you can rely upon my keeping it quietuntil you choose to have it published. "

"Well, Doctor, as it may be some days before I can see Brander again, Iwill go back to town this evening. I did not see anyone I knew as I wentto his office, and I would rather that it should not be known that I amdown here. As you are going back there now you might ask Levison to comeround here to see me. I will then tell him that neither Brander normyself would wish it mentioned that I was with him at the time he hadthat seizure. "

"Then I suppose the fact is, Cuthbert, that while I have been flatteringmyself your visit was to me, you really came down to see Brander?"

"I am rather afraid, Doctor, that had some influence in bringing medown, but you must forgive me this time. "

"All right, lad, I am glad to have had a glimpse of you again, whateveryour motive was in coming down. "

It was ten days before Cuthbert received a letter from the doctor sayingthat Mr. Brander was now strong enough to see him. 

"He has asked to see you several times, " he said, "but I have told himthat I could not permit him to talk. However, he is a good dealstronger now and is downstairs, again, and as I am sure some worry orother is preying on his mind and keeping him back, I told him thismorning that I would send for you. "

Cuthbert went down by the next train and was driven over in the doctor'sgig to Fairclose. It was strange to him to enter the familiar house as avisitor, and he looked round the library into which he was shown upongiving his name, with a sort of doubt whether the last two years had notbeen a dream. 

He had not much time for thought for the door opened and Mr. Branderentered. Cuthbert was shocked at his appearance. He looked a mere wreckof himself. He walked feebly and uncertainly. His face was pale and theflesh on the cheeks and chin was loose and flabby. He made his way to anarmchair and sank wearily into it. 

"What are you going to do with me, Cuthbert Hartington?" he asked in aweak 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 makerestitution as far as is in your power, the matter may rest entirelybetween us. With the evidence in my possession I am in a position toobtain a judge's order striking out my father's name from the list ofshareholders of the bank and annulling the sale of Fairclose, ofregaining my own, and of securing your punishment for the offences youhave committed. The latter part, as I have said, I have no desire topress. I consider that you have been punished sufficiently already, butI must insist upon the restoration of the estates of which I have beenwrongfully deprived. "

"And you will say nothing of what I have done?"

"Nothing whatever; it will be for you to offer any reason you choose forresigning Fairclose to me, but there is one other point that I mustinsist on, namely, that you leave Abchester. Your illness will be avalid excuse for retiring altogether from an active share in thebusiness and of relinquishing the part you have taken in the affairs ofthe town. As the senior partner you will doubtless receive a sufficientincome 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 leavethe place, for it will be painful for both of us to meet. "

"I cannot give up Fairclose altogether unburdened, " the lawyer said. "£15, 000 of the purchase money I found myself. The other £20, 000 Iraised on mortgages of the estate, and although that mortgage would beinvalidated by the proof that I had no power to give it, the mortgageewould, of course, fight the question, and the whole matter would be madepublic. "

Cuthbert was silent for a minute, not from any great doubt orhesitation, but he did not wish the man to see that he was eager to maketerms, for he would at once think that he was not in the position toprove the statement he had made. 

"It is a large sum, " he said, "a very large sum to lose, and then thereare two years' rents that you have received. "

"These I could repay, Mr. Harrington, " the lawyer said, eagerly. "I havesix thousand pounds invested in securities I could realize at once. "

Cuthbert was silent again. 

"Mr. Brander, " he said at last, "I feel, and I think naturally, verysore at the cruel wrong that has been inflicted upon me, but I cannotforget that in my boyhood I was always received with kindness by yourwife, and for her sake, and that of your daughters, I am most anxiousyour reputation should remain untarnished. I am willing to believe thatthis crime was the result of a sudden impulse, and that in otherrespects you have been an honest man. I cannot forget, too, that myfather had a great esteem for you. As to the two years' rents you havereceived, I will not claim them. I have done well enough without them, and in fact the necessity for working for my living has been of greatadvantage to me, and that alone makes me less inclined than I otherwisemight 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 youhave taken in this business. That paper I pledge myself solemnly to keepa profound secret, unless by any subsequent actions you force me to useit in self-protection, and that you will sign a deed of gift to me ofFairclose and its estates, subject to the mortgage of £20, 000. You canhand me over the deeds of the estate and I will have the deed of giftdrawn up. You will also give me your promise to leave this town andsettle elsewhere. On these conditions, I pledge you my word that thetransactions by which you obtained possession of the estates shall notbe divulged, and that the high reputation you bear shall be altogetherunsullied. "

"God bless you, Mr. Hartington, " the lawyer said, in a broken voice, "for your generosity in sparing my wife and children from the shame anddisgrace that would have fallen upon them had you insisted on yourrights. It is more than I deserve. I have never had a day's happinesssince I came here; it seemed to me that all danger of detection hadpassed, and yet it was ever before me. I was ever dreading that in someway I had not provided against, it would come out. "

"May I ask what income you will draw from your business?"

"The business is worth between four and five thousand a year, and by mydeed of partnership I was to receive two-thirds of that as long as Imyself chose to take a share in the management, and one-third when Ilike to retire altogether. A thousand a year is to be paid to my widowafter my death, and two hundred apiece to my daughters at her death. "

"So you will have some fifteen hundred a year, Mr. Brander, and withthat and the six thousand you have invested you will not do badly. Ishall return to town this evening again and will bring down the deed assoon as it is prepared. "

"The papers connected with the estate are in a tin box at my office, Mr. Hartington, " Mr. Brander said, in a voice more like his own than he hadhitherto used. "I will write an order to Levison to hand it over to you. I feel a different man already, " he went on, as he got up and took aseat at the table; "before, it seemed to me, there was nothing butdisgrace and ruin staring me in the face. Now, I may hope that, thanksto 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 youshould--but I swear to you I have been a miserable man ever since yourfather's death. It was not that I was afraid of detection--it seemed tome 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, andfelt to some extent I deserved it, for I had given up well nigh everymoment of my spare time to its service. Since then I have known that thepoorest man in the town would draw aside from me did he but know what Iwas. To my family it has been a terrible disappointment that the countyhas turned its back on us. To me it has been a relief. I have felt asort of satisfaction at finding that, in this respect at least, I hadsinned in vain. Were it not for my wife and girls I would even nowprefer that all should be known and that I should take the punishmentthat I deserve. I could bear prison-life better than to go about and mixwith other men, knowing what I know of myself and feeling always whatthey would think of me did they know it also----" and he broke down andburied 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, youmay fairly hope it will be forgiven you as freely and as fully as Iforgive you. You may take it from me that I feel I have been greatlybenefited by what has taken place, and that I have reason to bless thenecessity that fell upon me for working for my living. I was spending avery 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 twoyears, and my masters tell me that I have every prospect of rising toeminence as an artist. There will be no occasion for me to rely uponthat as a profession now, but the good the necessity for work has doneme will remain, and at any rate I shall continue to work at it untilthis mortgage is paid off. It has in another way brought happiness intomy life. Therefore, on my account at least, you need not regret what hashappened. I should say nothing at present as to your intention ofleaving here. Possibly we may hit upon some reason for your doing sothat will be accepted as a natural one. I can assure you I am as anxiousas you are yourself, indeed more so, that no shadow of suspicion ofanything wrong should rest upon you. So do not worry yourself about it. You can safely leave it in my hands. Now I will say good-bye. I hopethat when I return I shall find you stronger and better. I do not knowthat there is any occasion for you to sign this paper I have brought. "

"I would rather do so, " the lawyer said, firmly. "It will be a relief tome 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 mefrom my bank for the purpose of the mortgage, was really used for thepayment of calls on shares held by me in the Oakhurst Mining Company. This can be established by a reference to the accounts of that companyin the hands of the liquidator. "

He then signed his name and handed the paper to Cuthbert. 

In spite of the efforts the latter made to hurry on Messrs. Barringtonand Smiles, it was nearly three weeks before the deed of gift wasprepared. It had, in the first place, been sketched out by Cuthbert, with the assistance of James Harford, and recited "That Mr. Brander, ofFairclose, handed back that estate, together with the house and allappurtenances appertaining thereto, to Cuthbert Hartington as a dowrywith his daughter Mary upon her marriage with the said CuthbertHartington, being moved thereto partly by his love and affection for hisdaughter, partly by the desire to restore to the said CuthbertHartington the family estates of which he had been deprived, partly fromthe want of care of the said Jeremiah Brander in failing to represent tothe late J. W. Hartington, father of the said Cuthbert Hartington, thegrievous nature of the liability he would incur by taking shares in theAbchester and County Bank. "

Cuthbert was the more anxious to get the affair arranged, as theinsurrection 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 afly at the station drove straight to Fairclose. 

He had written several times to Mary lamenting that business haddetained him longer than he expected, and suggesting that it would bebetter for her to leave Paris at once, but she had replied that shewould rather remain there, at any rate, until his return. As he did notwish her to come to Abchester at present, he abstained from pressing thepoint, believing that McMahon would speedily collect a sufficient forceat Versailles to suppress the insurrection. 

He found Mr. Brander looking much more himself. It was a very subduedlikeness, but he had evidently gained strength greatly. 

"I have been longing for your return, " he said, as soon as Cuthbertentered the library. "I am eager to get out of this and to go away. Haveyou brought down the deed?"

"Here it is; it is all stamped and in due form, and needs only yoursignature and that of two witnesses. "

Mr. Brander rang the bell. 

"John, call Gardener in. I want you both to witness my signature. " Thecoachman came in. 

"Glad to see you again, Mr. Cuthbert, " he said, touching an imaginaryhat. 

"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 entryCuthbert 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 Ithink you may feel sure you can trust me. "

"I have no intention of reading it, " the lawyer said. "Whatever theconditions 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 willfind its provisions satisfactory. "

Mr. Brander, with a slight shrug of his shoulders that signified thathe was indifferent as to the details of the arrangement, took the paperand began to run his eyes carelessly through it. Suddenly his expressionchanged. He gave a start of surprise, read a few lines farther, and thenexclaimed--

"Can this be true, are you really going to marry Mary?"

"It is quite true, " Cuthbert said, quietly. "I first asked her a fewweeks before my father's death when I met her down at Newquay. Sherefused me at that time, but we have both changed since then. I saw agreat deal of her in Paris and she worked as a nurse in the Americanambulance during the siege. I was one of her patients, having been shotthrough the body and brought in there insensible. Having assisted insaving my life she finally came to the conclusion that she could not dobetter than make that life a happy one. She had refused me because sheconsidered, and rightly, that I was a useless member of society, and thefact 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 andhard-working life, she accepted me, small though my income was. "

"God bless her!" Mr. Brander said, fervently. "We never got on welltogether, Mr. Hartington. I had always an uneasy consciousness that shedisapproved of me, and that she regarded me as a humbug, and as I wasconscious of the fact myself this was not pleasant. So I was rather gladthan otherwise that she should choose her own path. But I am indeeddelighted at this. She is honesty and truth itself, and I pray she maymake 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 goodreason for what I said when I was here before, that the change in myfortune had been a benefit, since it had forced me to take up aprofession and work at it. Had it not been for that I should never havewon Mary. My being once again master of Fairclose would not have weighedwith her in the slightest. She would not have married a mere idler, hadhe 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 itdown. 

"You see, I have an object in doing so, Mr. Brander. I told you that myinterest in your reputation was as great as your own. I hope that in anycase I should not have made a harsh use of the power I possessed. I amsure that I should not, especially as I felt how much I had benefited bythe two years of work, but perhaps I might not have felt quite soanxious that no breath of suspicion should fall upon you had it not beenfor Mary. "

"Does she know?" Mr. Brander asked. 

"She does not know and will never hear it from me. She may have vaguesuspicions when she hears that you have made over Fairclose to me, butthese will never be more than suspicions. Nor need your other daughtersknow. They may wonder, perhaps, that Mary should have so large a shareof your property, but it will be easy for you to make some sort ofexplanation, as is given in this deed, of your reason for restoringFairclose to me with her. "

"They will be too glad to get away from here, to care much how it wasbrought about, and if afterwards they come to ask any questions aboutit, I can tell them so much of the truth that it had been found the saleof the property to me had been altogether illegal and irregular, andthat in point of fact you had a right not only to the estate but to the£20, 000 for which I mortgaged it to raise the purchase money, and to thetwo-years' rents. 

"That is what I shall tell my wife. I think she has always had a vaguesuspicion that there was something shady about the transaction, and Ishall tell her that, so far from regarding the loss of Fairclose as ahardship, I consider you have behaved with extreme generosity andkindness in the matter. Women do not understand business. I am sure itwon't be necessary to go into details. She, too, will be heartily gladto leave Fairclose. "

"Shall we go in and see them, Mr. Brander? You can tell them as much oras little of the news as you think fit, and after that you can give mesome lunch. I want it badly. "

"Thank you, " Mr. Brander said, gratefully. "I did not like to ask you, but it will make matters easier. "

He led the way into the drawing-room. Mrs. Brander was sitting at thewindow with an anxious look on her face. She knew of Cuthbert's formervisit, and that he was again closeted with her husband, and had a strongfeeling that something was wrong. The girls were sitting listlessly ineasy-chairs, not even pretending to read the books that lay in theirlaps. They rose with a look of bright surprise on their faces asCuthbert 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 firstplace it has been discovered that there was a very serious flaw in thetitle to Fairclose, and that the sale to me was altogether illegal. Mr. Hartington has behaved most kindly and generously in the matter, but theresult is he comes back to Fairclose and we move out. "

The three ladies uttered an exclamation of pleasure. Fairclose hadbecome hateful to them all, and at this moment it mattered little tothem how it had come about that they were going to leave it. 

"You don't mean to go back to the High Street, father?" Julia, the elderof the girls, asked anxiously. 

"No, my dear; it will be a question to be settled between us where wewill go, but I have decided to leave Abchester altogether. I feel that Irequire rest and quiet and shall give up business and go right out ofit. "

The girls both clapped their hands. 

"And now for my second piece of news which will surprise you as much asthe first. Your sister Mary is going to marry Mr. Hartington. The matterwas settled in Paris, where they have both been shut up during thesiege. "

"That is, indeed, good news, " Mrs. Brander said cordially, foreseeing atonce the advantage of such a marriage. 

The girls took their cue from her, and professed great pleasure at thenews which, however, was not altogether welcome to them. 

Mary, whom they had never liked, was to be mistress of Fairclose, andwas to gain all the advantages that they had expected but had neverobtained. The thought was not pleasant, but it was speedily forgotten inthe excitement of the other news. Her mother, however, seeing thepleasure that her husband unmistakably felt at the thought of themarriage, was genuinely pleased. Not only might the connection be usefulto the girls, but it might be invaluable in covering their retirementfrom Fairclose. There might be something more about that than herhusband had said. At any rate this would silence all tongues and put anend to the vague anxiety that she had long felt. She had always likedCuthbert, and had long ago cherished a faint hope that he might some daytake to Mary. 

"This all comes very suddenly upon us, Mr. Hartington. I suppose I oughtto 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 thantwo years ago and she refused him. I suppose she never told you?"

"She never said a word on the subject, " Mrs. Brander said, almostindignantly. "Why, it must have been before----" and she stopped. 

"Before my short reign here as master, Mrs. Brander. Yes, I was down atNewquay sketching, when she was staying with her friend, Miss Treadwyn, and Mary was at the time too much occupied with the idea of raisingwomankind in the scale of humanity to think of taking up with a uselessmember of society like myself. "

Mrs. Brander shook her head very gravely. 

"It was a sad trouble to her father and myself, " she said; "I hope shehas got over those ideas. "

"I think she has discovered that the world is too large for her tomove, " Cuthbert replied, with a smile. "At any rate she has undertakenthe task of looking after me instead of reforming the world; it may beas difficult, perhaps, but it sounds less arduous. "

At lunch the girls were engaged in an animated discussion as to wherethey would like to move to, but Mrs. Brander put an end to it bysaying--

"We shall have plenty of time to talk that over, girls--it must dependupon many things. Your father's health will, of course, be the firstconsideration. At any rate, I shall set my face against London. So youcan put that altogether out of your minds. An income that would besufficient to establish one in a good position near a country or seasidetown would be nothing in London. And now, Cuthbert, we want to hear agreat deal more about our dear Mary. She writes so seldom, and of courseshe has been cut off for so long a time from us that we scarcely knowwhat she is doing. In Germany she did not seem to be doing anythingparticular, but as she said in her letters, was studying the people andtheir language. "

"That is what she was doing in Paris--at least that is what she came todo, but the siege put a stop to her studies, and she devoted herself tothe much more practical work of nursing the wounded. "

"Dear me, what an extraordinary girl she is, " Mrs. Brander said, muchshocked. "Surely there were plenty of women in Paris to nurse thewounded without her mixing herself up in such unpleasant work, of whichshe could know absolutely nothing. "

"She was a very good nurse, nevertheless, " Cuthbert said, quietly. "Sheworked in the American ambulance, under an American doctor, the othernurses and assistants being all American or English. "

"How do you know she was a good nurse, Mr. Hartington?" Clara asked. 

"Simply because I was one of her patients, Miss Brander. I joined one ofthe corps of Franc-tireurs, in which most of my student-friends enrolledthemselves, and had the bad luck to get shot through the body in thesortie at Champigny, and as your sister was one of the nurses in thetent where I lay, I think that I am a pretty fair judge as to her powersof nursing. She was often there during the heaviest time for twenty-fourhours at a stretch, and completely knocked herself up by he continuedlabors. At any rate I consider I owe my life in no small degree to hercare. "

"I don't think we ever understood Mary, " Mr. Brander said, in a moreperemptory tone than the girls had heard him use since his seizure. "There is no doubt that it was as much our fault as it was hers. I feelproud to hear that she has done such noble work. Mr. Hartington tellsme, " he said, abruptly changing the conversation, "that he has beenworking hard with the intention of making art his profession as it haslong been his amusement. He seems to think that although he will, ofcourse, be no longer obliged to look upon it as a necessary career, heintends at any rate to pursue it for a time. "

"That will be very interesting, " Mrs. Brander said, "and it is quite thefashion in our days. "

"It is very nice when you haven't to live by it, " Cuthbert said. "Whenyou are obliged to do that, and instead of painting what you like, haveto paint things that will sell, it is up-hill work, and none but men ofreal talent can push their way up out of the crowd. I shall be morehappily situated, and shall therefore be able to devote an amount ofcare and time to a picture that would be impossible to a man who had hisdaily bread and cheese to earn by his brush. And now, Mr. Brander, wewill have a few more words together and then I must be off. I shall mostlikely return to town this evening. "

"It must be for you to decide, Mr. Brander, " he went on, when they werealone in the study, "how this news shall be broken to the public. I amquite ready to be guided entirely by your wishes in the matter. "

"The sooner the better. I would suggest that you should see Dr. Edwardesbefore you go up to town. If you will tell him what I told them in thenext room, that it has been discovered that there is a flaw in the saleof Fairclose, and that as you are engaged to marry Mary, we have arrivedat an amicable agreement under which you will return at once toFairclose, while I intend to seek an entirely new scene and to retirealtogether from business, there will be very little more needful. Thenews will spread like wildfire over the town and county. After that Ishall have very few questions asked me. None that I shall not be able toanswer without difficulty. The state of my health will form an excusefor my cutting my farewells short. There will, no doubt, be some gossipand wonder as to how it has come about, but the county will be sopleased at your coming back again to your father's place, that they willnot be very curious as to how it occurred. I shall go off as quickly andas quietly as I can, after calling to say good-bye to those with whom Ihave been so long associated in the municipal business. 

"It matters not where we go. I can take a furnished house at someseaside watering-place. The doctor will advise which is most likely tosuit me, and we can then look round and settle on our future plans atour leisure. If I gain strength I think it likely enough we may travelon the Continent for a time. The girls have never been abroad and theprospect would go a long way towards reconciling them entirely to thechange. "

"I think that a very good plan, " Cuthbert said. "I was intending to callupon the doctor on my way down and he will at once set the ballrolling. "

Mr. Brander went to the door where the fly had been waiting for twohours. 

"God bless you!" he said. "I cannot tell you how deeply grateful I am toyou for your forbearance and generosity. "

"Don't worry any more about it, Mr. Brander, " Cuthbert said, as he shookhis hand, "it has been a temporary change, and good rather than bad hascome of it. Believe me, I shall put the matter out of my mindaltogether. "

"Back again, Cuthbert, " the doctor said, when he was shown into theconsulting-room. "I was down just now at the station to see a man off, and the station-master said you had arrived by the 11. 30 train, and thathe had seen you drive off in a fly. I could hardly believe it, but asyou are here in person I suppose that there can be no mistake about it. Of course you have been up to Brander's again?"

"I have, Doctor, and for the last time. That is, the next time I shallgo up it will be to take possession of Fairclose. "

"My dear lad, I am delighted, " the doctor said, shaking him heartily bythe hand, "how has this miracle come about?"

"I cannot give you all the details, Doctor. I will simply give you thefacts, which, by the way, I shall be glad if you will retail to yourpatients for public consumption, " and he then repeated the statementthat he had arranged with Mr. Brander that he should make. 

"And that is the tale you wish me to disseminate?" the doctor said, witha twinkle of his eye, when Cuthbert concluded. 

"That is the statement, Doctor, and it has the merit of being, as far asit goes, true. What the nature of the illegality of this sale was, I amnot at liberty to disclose, not even to you, but I have discovered thatbeyond all question it was irregular and invalid, and Brander and I havecome to a perfectly amicable understanding. I may tell you that toprevent the trouble inseparable even from a friendly lawsuit he assignsthe property to me as Mary's dowry, and as a sort of recognition of thefact that he acted without sufficient care in advising my father to takethose shares in the bank. Thus all necessity for the reopening of bygoneevents will be obviated. "

"A very sensible way, lad. You will understand, of course, that I knowenough of Jeremiah to be quite sure that he would not relinquish a fineproperty if he had a leg to stand upon. However, that is no business ofmine, and I have no doubt that the fact that he is going to be yourfather-in-law, has had no small influence in bringing about this veryadmirable arrangement. Of course the matter will make a good deal oftalk, but these things soon die out, and the county will welcome youback too heartily to care how your return has been brought about. Youcan rely upon my action in the part of town-crier, and I am sure to someof my patients the flutter of excitement the news will occasion will doa great deal more good than any medicine I could give them. Of courseyou are going to stay here?"

"Only to dinner, Doctor. I shall run up to town again this evening. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

It was on the last day of March that Cuthbert Hartington reached Paris. During the six weeks that had elapsed since he had left it many eventshad taken place. He himself had gone away a comparatively poor man, andreturned in the possession of the estates inherited from his father, unimpaired save by the mortgage given upon them by Mr. Brander. He hadsucceeded beyond his hopes; and having obtained unlooked-for proofs ofthe fraud that had been practised, had been able to obtainrestitution--which was to him the most important point--and all had beendone without the slightest publicity. In Paris, the danger he hadforeseen had culminated in the Commune. The battalions of NationalGuards from Montmartre and Belleville had risen against the ProvisionalGovernment; the troops had fraternized with them and their generals hadbeen 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 enormouslyoutnumbered, they were powerless, and the extreme party were now inabsolute possession of the city. M. Thiers and the Assembly atVersailles had so far been unable to take any steps to reduce therevolted capital. Such troops as had been hastily collected could not berelied upon to act and it seemed probable that the National Guards andParis would, in a short time, take the offensive and obtain possessionof Versailles, in which case the flame of insurrection would spread atonce to all the great towns of France, and the horrors of the Terrormight be repeated. 

The line of railway to Paris was still open, for upon the Communistspreparing to cut off all communications, the Germans, still in greatforce near the town, pending the carrying out of the terms of the treatyof peace, threatened to enter Paris were such a step taken. A vastemigration had taken place among the middle classes, and over fiftythousand persons had left Paris. So far the Communists had abstainedfrom excesses, and from outrage upon peaceable citizens; had it beenotherwise, Cuthbert would have returned to fetch Mary away at once. Herletters to him, however, had assured him that there was no causewhatever for uneasiness about her, and that everything was going onprecisely as it had done, during the siege by the Germans. He had beenanxious that she should, if possible, remain for the present in Paris, for he did not wish her to return to her family, and had made up hismind that if it became absolutely necessary for her to leave Paris sheshould arrange to go straight down to Newquay and stay there with herfriends. 

As he alighted from the carriage at the Northern Railway Station hefound the place occupied by National Guards. There was no semblance ofdiscipline among them; they smoked, lounged about, scowled at the fewpassengers who arrived, or slept upon the benches, wrapt in theirblankets. There were none of the usual hotel omnibuses outside and butone 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 MonsieurCaillard, who comes here every day, told us that you would be sure to beback again in spite of the Reds. Ah, monsieur, what horror to think thatafter all Paris has gone through, these monsters should have becomemasters of the city! It would have been a thousand times better to havehad the Prussians here, they would have kept order, and those wildbeasts of Montmartre would not have dared even to have murmured. Youhave 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 carriedup his pormanteau, and then at once came down and drove to MadameMichaud's. 

Mary was half expecting him, for in his last letter to her he had toldher he hoped to arrive in Paris that evening. 

"I have been horribly anxious about you, Mary, " he said, after the firstgreeting. 

"There was no occasion for your being so, " she replied, "everything ispefectly quiet here, though from what they say there may be fighting anyday, but if there is it will be outside the walls and will not affect ushere. "

"I don't think there will be much fighting, " he said; "if the troopsfraternize with the Communists there's an end of the business, allFrance 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 havethe hearty approval of all Europe in marching in here, and stamping thewhole thing out. If the troops, on the other hand, prove faithful, Ifeel sure, from what I saw of the Belleville battalions, that there willbe very little fighting outside the walls. They may defend Paris for atime, and perhaps bravely, for they will know they are fighting withropes round their necks, and the veriest cur will fight when cornered. Your people here are not thinking of leaving, I hope?"

"No, and they could not now if they wanted; the Commune has put a stopto emigration, and though the trains still run once or twice a day, theygo 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 thehappiest way. I unexpectedly obtained proofs that the sale of Fairclosewas altogether irregular, and indeed, invalid. I have seen your father, who at once, upon my laying the proofs before him, recognized theposition. Our arrangement has been a perfectly amicable one. He is goingto retire altogether from business, and will probably take up hisresidence at some seaside place where there is a bracing climate. Thedoctor recommends Scarborough, for I may tell you that he has had aslight stroke of apoplexy, and is eager himself for rest and quiet. Fairclose and the estate comes back to me, nominally as your dowry, andwith the exception that there is a mortgage on it for £20, 000, I shallbe exactly in the same position that I was on the day my father died. Imay say that your mother and the girls are delighted with thearrangement, for, somehow, they have not been received as cordially asthey had expected in the county--owing of course to a foolish prejudicearising from your father's connection with the bank, whose failure hiteveryone heavily--and they are, in consequence, very pleased indeed atthe prospect of moving away altogether. "

Mary's forehead was puckered up in little wrinkles of perplexity as shelistened. "I am glad of course, very glad, that you have got Faircloseback, " she said, "though it all seems very strange to me--is that allthat I am to know, Cuthbert?"

"That is all it is necessary that you should know, Mary, and no one elsewill know any more. Your father's illness and the doctor's injunctionsthat he should retire from business altogether and settle in some placewith a mild climate, is an ample reason for his leaving Fairclose, andyour engagement to me, and my past connection with the place are equallyvalid reasons why I should be his successor there. I do not say, Mary, that there may not have been other causes which have operated to bringabout this result, but into these there is no need, whatever, for us toenter. Be contented, dear, to know that all has turned out in the bestpossible way, that I have recovered Fairclose, that your family are allvery pleased at the prospect of leaving it, and in that fact the matterends happily for everyone. "

"I lunched at the old place only yesterday, " he went on lightly, "andthe girls were in full discussion as to where they should go. Yourfather is picking up his strength fast, and with rest and quiet, will, Ihope, soon be himself again. I expect, between ourselves, that he willbe all the better for getting away from that work in the town, with itslunches and dinners. The Doctor told me that he had warned him that hewas too fond of good living, specially as he took no exercise. Now thathe 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 yearsand live more simply, and as the doctor told me yesterday, the chancesare that he will have no recurrence of his attack. I may tell you thatfrom a conversation I had with him I learned that your father will stilldraw a very comfortable income from the business, and will have amplysufficient to live in very good style at Scarborough. "

The fact that Cuthbert had lunched at Fairclose did more to sootheMary's anxiety than anything else he had said. It seemed a proof thathowever this strange change had come about, an amicable feeling existedbetween Cuthbert and her father, and when he wound up with "Are youcontented, dear?" she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. 

"More than contented, Cuthbert. I have been worrying myself greatlywhile you have been away, and I never thought that it would end ashappily as this. I know, dear, that you have concealed a great deal fromme, but I am contented to know no more than that. I am as sure as if youhad told me that you have brought all these things about in thisfriendly way for my sake. And now, " she said after a pause, "what areyour plans for yourself?"

"You mean for us, Mary. Well, dear, my plan is that we shall wait onhere and see how things turn out. I don't want to go back to Englandtill all these arrangements are carried out. I don't intend to have togo to Scarborough to marry you, and I think it will be vastly better forus to be married quietly here as soon as the chaplain at the embassyreturns, which, of course, he will do directly these troubles are over. My present idea is, that I shall let the house at Fairclose, or shut itup if I cannot let it, and let the rents of the property go to payingoff this mortgage, and I intend to take a modest little place nearLondon, to live on our joint income, and to work hard until Fairclose isclear of this incumbrance. "

"That is right, Cuthbert. I have been wondering ever since you told meyou were to have Fairclose again, if you would give up painting, andhoping that you would still go on with it. I should so like you to win aname for yourself as a great painter. "

Cuthbert laughed. "My dear child, you are jumping a great deal too fastat conclusions. I am not yet out from school. I have painted my twofirst pictures, which you like, principally because your face is in oneof them, but that is a short step towards becoming a great artist. Youare like a young lady in love with a curate, and therefore convincedthat some day he will be Archbishop of Canterbury, and with almostequally good foundation; however, I shall do my best, and as I shallstill have a strong motive for work, and shall have you to spur me on Ihope 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 upaltogether; a modest success means mediocrity, and that is hateful, andI am sure you yourself would be no more satisfied with it than Ishould. "

"Well, I will go on for a bit and see. I agree with you, that a thing isnot worth doing unless it is done well, but I won't come to any finaldecision for another year or two. Now it is past ten o'clock, and I mustbe going. "

"When will you come? To-morrow?"

"I will come at three o'clock. Have your things on by that time, and wewill go for a ramble. "

René Caillard came into Cuthbert's room at nine o'clock the nextmorning. 

"I came round yesterday evening, Cuthbert, and heard from the conciergethat you had arrived and had gone out again. As she said you had drivenoff in a fiacre, it was evidently of no use waiting. I thought I wouldcome down and catch you the first thing this morning. You look well andstrong again, your native air evidently suits you. "

"I feel quite well again, though not quite so strong. So things haveturned out just as I anticipated, and the Reds are the masters ofParis. "

René shrugged his shoulders. "It is disgusting, " he said. "It does nottrouble us much, we have nothing to lose but our heads, and as thesescoundrels would gain nothing by cutting them off, I suppose we shall beallowed to go our own way. "

"Is the studio open again?"

"Oh, yes, and we are all hard at work, that is to say, the few thatremain of us. Goudé has been fidgeting for you to come back. He hasasked several times whether I have news of you, and if I was sure youhad not left Paris forever. I know he will be delighted when I tell himthat you have returned; still more so if you take the news yourself. "

"I suppose Minette has resumed her duties as model?"

"Not she, " René said scornfully, "she is one of the priestesses of theCommune. She rides about on horseback with a red flag and sash. Sometimes she goes at the head of a battalion, sometimes she rides aboutwith the leaders. She is in earnest but she is in earnest theatrically, and that fool, Dampierre, is as bad as she is. "

"What! Has he joined the Commune?". 

"Joined, do you say? Why, he is one of its leaders. He plays the part ofLa Fayette, in the drama, harangues the National Guards, assures them ofthe sympathy of America, calls upon them to defend the freedom they havewon by their lives and to crush back their oppressors, as his countrymencrushed their British tyrants. Of course it is all Minette's doing; heis as mad as she is. I can assure you that he is quite a popular heroamong the Reds, and they would have appointed him a general if he hadchosen to accept it, but he said that he considered himself as therepresentative of the great Republic across the sea, that he wouldaccept no office, but would fight as a simple volunteer. He, too, goesabout on horseback, with a red scarf, and when you see Minette you maybe sure that he is not far off. "

"Without absolutely considering Dampierre to be a fool, I have alwaysregarded him as being, well, not mad, but different to other people. Hisalternate fits of idleness and hard work, his infatuation for Minette, his irritation at the most trifling jokes, and the moody state intowhich he often fell, all seem to show as the Scots say, 'a bee in hisbonnet, ' and I can quite fancy the excitement of the times, and hisinfatuation for that woman may have worked him up to a point much morenearly approaching madness than before. I am very sorry, René, for therewas a good deal to like about him, he was a gentleman and a chivalrousone. In Minette he saw not a clever model, but a peerless woman, and wascarried away by enthusiasm, which is, I think, perfectly real: she is inher 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 seemslikely enough, it will do, he will in time become disgusted with theadventurers and ambitious scoundrels by whom he is surrounded, and will, like the Girondists, be among the first victims of the wild beasts hehas helped to bring into existence. If the troops prove faithful, theCommune will be crushed, and all those who have made themselvesconspicuous are likely to have but a short shrift of it when martial lawis established. Well, René, as there is nothing that can be done in thematter, it is of no use troubling about it. None of the others have gonethat way, I suppose. "

"Of course not, " René exclaimed indignantly. "You don't suppose thatafter the murder of the generals any decent Frenchman would join such acause, even if he were favorable to its theories. Morbleu! Although Ihate tyrants I should be tempted to take up a rifle and go out anddefend them were they menaced by such scum as this. It is not even as itwas before; then it was the middle class who made the Revolution, andthere was at least much that was noble in their aims, but thesecreatures who creep out from their slums like a host of obnoxious beastsanimated sorely by hatred for all around them, and by a lust for plunderand blood, they fill one with loathing and disgust. There is not amongthem, save Dampierre, a single man of birth and education, if onlyperhaps you except Rochefort. There are plenty of Marats, but certainlyno Mirabeau. 

"No, no, Cuthbert, we of the studio may be wild and thoughtless. We livegayly and do not trouble for the morrow, but we are not altogetherfools; and even were there nothing else to unite us against the Commune, the squalor and wretchedness, the ugliness and vice, the brutalcoarseness, and the foul language of these ruffians would band ustogether as artists against them. Now, enough of Paris, what have youbeen doing in England, besides recovering your health?"

"I have been recovering a fortune, too, René. A complicated questionconcerning some property that would, in the ordinary course of things, have come to me has now been decided in my favor. "

"I congratulate you, " René said, "but you will not give up art, I hope?"

"No, I intend to stick to that, René. You see I was not altogetherdependent on it before, so that circumstances are not much changed. "

"You finished your pictures before you went away, did you not? Thetemptation to have a peep at them has been very strong, but I haveresisted--nobly it was heroic, was it not?"

"It must have been. Yes, I put the finishing touches to them before Iwent away, and now I will show them to you René; it is the least I cando after all your kindness. Now go and look out of the window until Ifix the easels in a good light, I want your first impressions to befavorable. There, " after a pause, "the curtain is drawn up and the showhas begun. " He spoke lightly, but there was an undertone of anxiety inhis voice. Hitherto no one but Mary had seen them, and her opinion uponthe subject of art was of little value. He, himself, believed that thework was good, but yet felt that vague dissatisfaction and doubt whetherit might not have been a good deal better, that most artists entertainas to their own work. In the school René's opinion was always sought foreagerly; there were others who painted better, but none whose feeling ofart was more true or whose critical instinct keener. 

René looked at the pictures for a minute or two in silence, then heturned to Cuthbert and took one of his hands in his own. "My dearfriend, " he said, "it is as I expected. I always said that you hadgenius, 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 shoulddo so, but you are cold and do not like a show of feeling. Thesepictures will place you well in the second rank; in another year or twoyou will climb into the first. They will be hung on the line, that goeswithout saying. They are charming, they are admirable, and to thinkthat you are still at the school. I might paint all my life and I shouldnever turn out two such canvases; and it is a sin that one who can paintlike that should expose himself to be shot at by Prussians. Now, do yousit down and let me look at them. "

"Do so, René, and please remember that I want not praise, but honestcriticism; I know they have defects, but I want you to point them out tome, for while I feel that they might be improved, I have my own ideas sostrongly in my head, that I cannot see where the faults are as you can. Remember, you can't be too severe, and if possible to do so, withoutentirely having to repaint them, I will try to carry out yoursuggestions. "

René produced a pipe, filled and lighted it, then placed a chair so thathe could sit across it and lean upon the back. He sat for upwards of aquarter of an hour puffing out clouds of tobacco-smoke without speaking. 

"You mean what you say, Cuthbert?" he said at last. "Very well, I willtake the bright one first. As to the figure I have nothing to say; theeffect of the light falling on her head and face is charming; the dressis perhaps a little stiff, it would have been bettered if relieved bysome light lace or gauze, but we will let that pass; it is a portraitand a good one. It is your pretty nurse at the Ambulance. Am I tocongratulate you there too?"

Cuthbert nodded. 

"I thought so, " René went on, without moving his gaze from the pictures, "and will congratulate you presently. The background of the figure isthe one weak point of the picture, that, too, like the portrait, I doubtnot, was taken from reality, for with your artistic feeling you wouldnever have placed that bare wall behind the figure. You have tried bythe shadows from the vine above to soften it, and you have done all youcould in that way, but nothing could really avail. You want a vine tocover that wall. It should be thrown into deep cool shadow, with a touchof sunlight here and there, streaming upon it, but less than you nowhave falling on the wall. As it is now, the cool gray of the dress isnot sufficiently thrown up, it, like the wall, is in shade except wherethe sun touches the head and face; but, with a dark cool green, somewhatundefined, and not too much broken up by the forms of the foliage, thefigure would be thrown forward, 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. Itexpresses grief and hopelessness; that is good; but it also expressesdespair, that is painful; one does not feel quite sure that the youngwoman is not about to throw herself into the sea. Now, if you were tomake 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; ifyou could arrange it so that the head should stand up against it, itwould add greatly to the effect. What do you think?" he asked, breakingoff suddenly and turning to Cuthbert. 

"You are right in both instances, René. Both the backgrounds are fromsketches I made at the time; the veranda in the one case, and the seaand sky and rock in the other are as I saw them, and it did not occur tome to change them. Yes, you are a thousand times right. I see now why Iwas discontented with them, and the changes you suggest will beinvaluable. 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 contrastjust as strongly with the bright warm sunshine on the other picture, asdoes the unbroken darkness. There is nothing else that you can suggest, René?"

"No, and I almost wish that I had not made those suggestions, thepictures are so good that I am frightened, lest you should spoil them bya single touch of the brush. "

"I have no fear of that, René, I am sure of the dark picture, and I hopeI 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 Goudé's; tell himthat I am back, and will come round this evening after dinner. Ask allthe others to come here to supper at ten; thank goodness we shall have adecent feed this time. "

Directly René had left, Cuthbert set to work with ardor. He felt thatRené had hit upon the weak spots that he had felt and yet failed torecognize. In four hours the sea-scape was finished, and as he steppedback into the window to look at it, he felt that the ray of misty lightshowing rather on the water than on the air, had effected wonders, andadded immensely to the poetry of the picture. 

"I have only just time to change, and get there in time, " he said, witha very unlover-like tone of regret, as he hastily threw off his paintingblouse, ate a piece of bread left over from breakfast, and drank a glassof wine. He glanced many times at the picture. 

"Curious, " he muttered, "how blind men are to their own work. I candetect a weak point in another man's work in a moment, and yet, though Ifelt that something was wrong, I could not see what it was in my own. IfI succeed as well with the other as I have done with this I shall besatisfied indeed. "

"You are a quarter of an hour late, sir, " Mary said, holding up herfinger in reproof as he entered. "The idea of keeping me waiting, thevery first time after our engagement. I tremble when I look forward tothe future. "

"I have been painting, Mary, and when one is painting one forgets howtime flies; but I feel greatly ashamed of myself, and am deeplycontrite. "

"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 Ihave been doing you will overlook the offence. "

"What have you been doing? I thought you told me that you had quitefinished the two pictures, the day you came to say good-bye before youstarted for Brussels. "

"René has been criticising them and has shown me where I committed twoegregious blunders. "

"Then I think it was very impertinent of him, " Mary said in a tone ofvexation. "I am sure nothing could have been nicer than they were evenwhen I saw them, I am certain there were no blunders in them, and Idon't see how they could be improved. "

"Wait until you see them again, Mary. I altered one this morning, butthe other will take me three or four days steady work. I am not so sureof success there, but if you don't like it when you see it, I promiseyou 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 severalbattalions of National Guards marching through the streets; and there isa report that 50, 000 men are to march against Versailles. We may as wellsee 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 meetwith no opposition, as on the previous night two regiments of the army, forming the advanced guard between Versailles and Paris, came in, together with a battery of artillery, and declared for the Commune. Thenext morning Cuthbert went up at nine o'clock, as he had arranged totake Mary out early, and to work in the afternoon. Just as he reachedthe house he heard a cannon-shot. 

"Hurry on your things, " he said as he met her, "a gun has just fired; itis the first in the Civil War; perhaps the National Guard are startingagainst Versailles; at any rate it will be worth seeing. "

The girl was ready in two or three minutes, and they walked briskly tothe Arc de Triomphe. As they did so they could hear not only the boom ofcannon, but the distant firing of musketry. Around the Arch a number ofpeople were gathered, looking down the long broad avenue running from itthrough the Porte Maillot, and then over the Bridge of Neuilly to thecolumn of Courbeil. Heavy firing was going on near the bridge, upon thebanks of the river, and away beyond it to the right. 

"That firing means that France is saved from the horrors of another redRevolution, Mary, " Cuthbert said. "It shows that some of the troops atleast are loyal, and in these matters example is everything. There wasa report that Charrette's Zouaves and the gendarmes have been placed atthe outposts, and if the report is true, it was a wise step, indeed, forMcMahon to take, for both could be relied upon; and now fighting hasbegun, 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 afew are killed and wounded the rest will get angry, and all idea offraternizing with the men who are firing on them will be at an end. Ishould like to see how that crowd of National Guards are behaving. "

"Shall we go down and look, Cuthbert. See, there is an omnibus goingdown 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 willhardly come so far, but if the troops open fire with cannon, they willsend shell right up this avenue. "

"Would you go by yourself if I were not here, Cuthbert?"

"Well, I certainly should, but that is no reason why I should go withyou. "

"I can see women looking out of the windows, " she said, "so we will godown together, Cuthbert. We had the German shell falling near us whilethe siege was going on, and things went on just as usual. "

"Come on then, dear; at any rate it will be only field-guns and notheavy siege artillery, and I dare say we can get into one of the housesand look out from them; a twelve-pounder would scarcely do much harm toone of these solid stone buildings. "

They went quietly down the road. No whiz of bullet or crash of shell washeard, and without interruption they continued their course until theyarrived near the gate. Near it were two battalions of the NationalGuard, who were in a state of utter disorder. Some of the men werequietly walking away with their rifles slung behind them, in spite of aline of sentries placed across the road and the efforts of theirofficers. Cuthbert questioned some of the men, as they came along, as towhat had happened, but the most contradictory answers were given. Theyhad been fired upon from Fort Valerien; they had been attacked fromCourbevoie; they had been betrayed; they had been sent out without anycannon: ammunition was short; they were not going to stay to be shotdown; they were going to the Hôtel de Ville to turn out the traitors whohad sent them out without a proper supply of ammunition. That they hadsome ammunition was evident from the fact that several muskets went offaccidentally, the result of nervousness on the part of those that heldthem. 

"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 athis door. "This lady and myself are English, " he said, "would you allowus 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 awindow on the fifth floor. 

"Look at them, " Cuthbert said in disgust, "these are the heroes whoclamored to go out and destroy the Germans. "

The scene below was certainly singular--the bugles and drums sounded theassembly and beat the rappel alternately, but the men paid not theslightest attention to the call, but continued to slink away until thedrummers and buglers remained alone. Of the two battalions, some fiftymen posted at the loop-holes of the crenelated wall by the gateremained; the rest had melted away. From the balcony at the window afine view was obtained across the country. A heavy musket-fire was stillmaintained along the river-side, and there was a continuous roll ofmusketry at Courbevoie, where, as one of the National Guard had toldthem, a battalion which occupied the barracks there had been cut off bythe advance of the troops. Artillery and musketry were both at workthere, 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 were seen advancing against the bridge. As it did so the firing there ceased at once, and it was soon evidentthat the troops had gained the position. Numbers of National Guards sooncame trooping in at the gate. A very few remained there; the rest, without waiting for orders, hurried on into Paris. A dark group nowappeared on the road leading up to Courbeil; there was a white puff ofsmoke and a shell exploded a hundred yards on the other side of thegate. A steady fire was now kept up by two guns, the greater part of theshells exploded beyond the outer works; but several came up the avenue, two of them striking houses, and others exploding in the roadway. Eachtime when the whistle of a shell was heard approaching, Cuthbert drewMary back from the balcony into the room. 

"I fancy, " he said, "the troops have an idea that there are masses ofthe Communists assembled near the gates in readiness for a sortie, andthey are firing to prevent their coming out, until they have fortifiedthe bridge and the other points they have occupied. "

The firing continued for some time. At other windows the inhabitantswere watching the conflict, and Cuthbert pointed out, to Mary's greatamusement, the precautions that some of them were taking to ensure theirpersonal safety. One woman had drawn down the Venetian blinds, and waslooking between them, another was peering out with a pillow held overher head. The few National Guards who remained at their post were men ofcourage, for they showed no signs of flinching even when shells explodedwithin a few yards of the position they occupied. Presently there was asound of wheels, and two four-pounder guns were brought up and placedone on each side of the gate to sweep the approaches. 

Between one and two o'clock several battalions of National Guards cameleisurely 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 broughtup to defend the gate in case it was attacked. Soon after their arrival, a party that had remained near the river returned and it was clear thatat least a portion of the troops had proved faithless, for with themwere forty or fifty soldiers, who had come over during the fight. Theywere disarmed and then escorted into the town, where, as Cuthbertafterwards learned, they were received with enthusiasm by the mob. 

"It is evident that there is no idea of any attempt being made torecapture the bridge at present, Mary; I don't know how you feel but Iam 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 withme? I have no doubt we shall be able to get a voiture up at the arch, and we can have lunch there. "

Mary was as anxious to see what is going on as he was, and in a quarterof an hour they alighted in the Rue Rivoli. As yet the population hadheard but vague reports that fighting was going on, and matters werecomparatively quiet, for so many rumors had pervaded the town during thelast few days, that they were not generally believed. Accordingly, afterlunch, 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 beenbeaten. "

"I have heard all sorts of stories about it, but most of them say thatthe Versailles people got the worst of it. "

"Then the stories were not true, " Mary said, "most of the National Guardwouldn't fight at all, and the regiments all broke away and went intoParis without firing a shot, the troops have taken the bridge ofNeuilly. "

"The good God be thanked, " Madame Michaud said piously, "my husband wasafraid the troops would not fight, and that we were going to haveterrible times; but there is a hope now, that the Commune will be putdown. "

"Every hope, madame, " Cuthbert said. "I was sure this scum of Pariswould not fight if the troops would do so. They have too much regard fortheir worthless skins. It may be some time before McMahon can get aforce together sufficient to take Paris, but sooner or later he will doso, though it will be a serious business with the forts all in the handsof the Communists. If they had but handed over one or two of the fortsto the gendarmes, or kept a company or two of sailors there, there wouldhave been a line by which the troops could have approached the town, asit is they will have to bring up siege-guns and silence Issy and Vanvesbefore much can be done. "

An hour later Monsieur Michaud arrived; he too had been in the city andwas in ignorance of what had taken place during the morning. 

"That accounts for it, " he said, "we are all ordered to be under arms ateight 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 thereis much more fear of my being shot, if I don't answer to the call of myname than there will be if I do. In the first place, we may not go outbeyond the wall, in the second place, if there is I may see a chance ofrunning away, for mind you, though I hope I should have fought asbravely as others if the Germans had come, I do not feel myself calledupon 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 oftwo thousand march off without firing a shot to-day. "

"So much the better, monsieur, four out of five of the National Guardshate it all as much as I do. Will you dine with us to-day, monsieur, andthen we can go down together afterwards. "

Cuthbert accepted the invitation willingly. "Yes, you can come down withus, Mary, " he went on, in answer to a look of appeal from her. "I willbring her back safely, Madame Michaud, the sight will be well worthseeing. Before I go I will have a look round and see if I can get a bedfor the night, it is a long way out from my lodgings and I should liketo be out here by daylight, for if they mean to march on Versailles theyare sure to start as soon as it is light. "

"We have a spare room, " Madame Michaud said, "and it is quite at yourdisposal. It will be doing us a kindness if you will accept it, for whenmy husband is away I always feel nervous without a man in the house, andas it is but ten minutes' walk from here to the Arc de Triomphe, youwill be on the spot, and indeed from the roof of this house you canobtain a view all over the country. "

A great change had taken place in the appearance of Paris when they wentdown in the evening, the town was in a state of the wildest excitement, everywhere drums were beating and trumpets sounding, everywhere NationalGuards mustering. The streets were crowded, the most violent languageuttered by the lower classes, and threats of all kinds poured outagainst the 'butchers of Versailles. ' On the walls were red placardsissued by the Commune and headed "Men of Paris. The butchers ofVersailles are slaughtering your brethren!!!"

"As a rule the brethren decline to be slaughtered, Mary, " Cuthbert saidas they read the proclamation. "You see, if the troops fire they arebutchers, if the National Guards fire they are heroes. Considering thatParis has ten armed men to every one McMahon has got, even if all thetroops could be relied upon, the Parisians must indeed be of a mildtemper if they submit to be butchered. "

Monsieur Michaud now left them to take his place in the ranks of hisbattalion. It was not long before the National Guards were in motion, and for hours columns of troops moved up the Champs Elysées. The RueRivoli was actually choked with the men; the mob shouted "Vive laCommune" until they were hoarse, and the battalions from the workingquarters lustily sang the chorus of the Marseillaise. 

At ten o'clock Cuthbert and Mary arrived at the Arc de Triomphe on theirway back. Along the whole line from the Tuileries the National Guardwere bivouacked. The arms were piled down the centre of the road, andmany of the men had already wrapped themselves in their blankets andlain down to sleep with their heads on their knapsacks. The wine-shopsin the neighborhood were all crowded, and it was evident that many ofthe men had determined to keep it up all night. 

Madame Michaud had coffee ready for them on their return, and afterdrinking it they went to their rooms, Mary being completely tired outwith the fatigue and excitement of the day. At five o'clock Cuthbert wasup; he had told Mary the night before that he would return for her ateight. On arriving at the Arc de Triomphe he found the National Guardspouring down the avenue to the Fort Maillot. Three heavy columns weremarching along the roads which converged at the Bridge of Neuilly. HereCuthbert 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 FortValerien. 

The force was evidently insufficient to hold the bridge against themasses of revolutionists advancing against it, and the real resistanceto the forces of the Commune would commence further back. Crossing thebridge the National Guard spread out to the right and left and mountedthe hill, as they did so some eighteen-pounder guns which had been theday before mounted on the Fort, opened fire on the bridge, and for atime the forward movement ceased, and the regiment on their way downtowards the gate were halted. Cuthbert chatted for some time with one ofthe officers and learnt from him that this was not the real point ofattack. 

"It is from the other side of the river that the great stroke againstthe Versaillaise will be struck, " he said, "a hundred and fifty thousandNational Guards advanced on that side; they will cross the heights ofMeudon, and move straight to Versailles. We have but some twenty-fivethousand here, and shall advance as soon as the others have attackedMeudon. "

In an hour the forward movement had again commenced, a heavy columnpoured across the bridge, the firing from Valerien having now ceased. Cuthbert watched the black mass advancing up the slope towards Courbeil. It was not until they reached the top of the slope that Valeriensuddenly opened fire. Puff after puff of white smoke darted out from itscrest in quick succession, the shells bursting in and around the heavycolumn. In a moment its character changed; it had been literally cut inhalf by the iron shower. Those in front of the point where the storm hadstruck it, broke off and fled to the village of Nanterre on the left, where they took shelter among the houses. The other portion of thecolumn broke up as suddenly, and became at once a disorganized mob, whoat the top of their speed rushed down to the slope again to the bridgeat Neuilly. Across this they poured in wild confusion and made no haltuntil they had passed the Fort Maillot. There the officers attempted torally them, but in vain; many had thrown their muskets away in theirflight, the rest slung them behind them, and continued their way toParis, all vowing that they had been betrayed, and that they would havevengeance on the Commune. Seeing that there was no more probability offighting on his side, Cuthbert returned to Madame Michaud's. 

"Madame is on the roof, " Margot said as he entered; "everyone is upthere: she said I was to give you breakfast when you came in; the coffeeis ready, and I have an omelette prepared, it will be cooked in threeminutes; Madame said that you would be sure to be hungry after being outso long. " In a quarter of an hour he ascended to the roof. The residenton the ground-floor had an astronomical telescope with which he was inthe habit of reconnoitring the skies from the garden. This he had takenup to the roof, where some twenty persons were gathered. A magnificentview was obtained here of the circle of hills from Valerien round byMeudon, and the whole of the left bank of the river. It needed but aglance to see that the army of the Commune had made but little progress. Although the fighting began soon after two o'clock in the morning, andit was now nearly mid-day, the heights of Meudon were still in the handsof the troops. 

From among the trees by the chateau white puffs of smoke shot out, manyof the shells bursting in and around the fort of Issy, which repliedbriskly. The guns of Vanves joined in the combat, their fire beingdirected towards the plateau of Chatillon, which was held by the troops. Round Issy a force of the National Guard was assembled, but the mainbody was in the deep valley between the forts and Meudon, and on theslopes nearly up to the chateau; the rattle of musketry here wascontinuous, a light smoke drifting up through the trees. After a time itwas evident that the line of musketry fire was lower down the hill, descending, showing that the troops were pressing the Communistsbackwards, and presently one of the batteries near the chateau shiftedits position, and took ground some distance down the hill, and this anda battery near the end of the viaduct by the chateau, opened a heavyfire on the forts. 

A look through the telescope showed that the Communists were crouchingbehind walls and houses, occasionally, when the fire of the guns wassilent, a few of them would get up and advance into the open, but onlyto scamper back into shelter as soon as they reopened fire. 

"That settles it, monsieur, " Cuthbert said, to the owner of thetelescope, after taking a long look through it, "hitherto, theCommunists have believed that Versailles was at their mercy, and theyhad but to march out to capture it. They have failed, and failure meanstheir final defeat. They say that the prisoners of war are arriving inVersailles at the rate of two or three thousand a day, and in anotherfortnight, Thiers will have a force sufficient to take the offensive, and by that time, will doubtless have siege-guns in position. I don'tsay that Paris may not hold out for a considerable time, but it mustfall in the long run, and I fear, that all who have got anything to losewill have a very bad time of it. "

"I fear so, monsieur; as these wretches become more desperate, they willproceed to greater lengths. You see they have already insisted that allthe National Guard--whatever their opinions--shall join in the defenceof the city. They have declared the confiscation of the goods of anymember of the Guard who shall leave the town. I hear a decree is likelyto be published to-morrow or next day confiscating all Church property;already they have taken possession of the churches, and turned them intoclubs. If they do such things now, there is no saying to what lengthsthey may go as they see their chances of success diminishing daily. "

Although the artillery fire was maintained for some time longer, it wasby three o'clock evident that the battle was virtually over. The partytherefore descended from the roof, and Cuthbert strolled back to thecentre of Paris. The streets, that evening, presented a very strongcontrast to the scene of excitement that had reigned twenty-four hoursbefore. There was no shouting and singing; no marching of great bodiesof troops. An air of gloom pervaded the lower classes, while thebourgeois remained for the most part in their houses, afraid that thedeep satisfaction the events of the day had caused them, might betrayitself in their faces. 

For the next few days Cuthbert worked steadily, going up late in theafternoon to Passy. The Commune had, on the day after the failureagainst Versailles, issued a decree that all unmarried men fromseventeen to thirty-five, should join the ranks, and a house-to-housevisitation was ordered to see that none escaped the operation of thedecree. One of these parties visited Cuthbert: it consisted of a manwith a red sash, and two others in the uniform of the National Guard. Assoon as they were satisfied of Cuthbert's nationality, they left, havingbeen much more civil than he had expected. He thought it advisable, however, to go at once to the Hôtel de Ville, where, on producing hispassport, he was furnished with a document bearing the seal of theCommune, certifying that being a British subject, Cuthbert Hartingtonwas exempt from service, and was allowed to pass anywhere withoutmolestation. 

Equal good luck did not attend the other students, all of whom were, totheir intense indignation, enrolled upon the list of the National Guardof their quarter. Cuthbert had difficulty in retaining a perfectlyserious countenance, as René, Pierre, and two or three others came in totell him what had occurred. 

"And there is no getting away from it, " René said. "If we had thoughtthat it would come to this, of course we would have left Paris directlythis affair began, but now it is impossible: no tickets are issued bythe railways except to old men, women and children, no one is allowed topass through the gates without a permit from the Commune, and even ifone could manage to get on to the wall and drop down by a rope onemight be taken and shot by the Communist troops outside, or, if one gotthrough them, by the sentries of the army of Versailles. What would youadvise us to do, Cuthbert?"

"I am afraid I can't give you any advice whatever, René, it is certainlyhorribly unpleasant being obliged to fight in a cause you detest, but Idon't think there will be a very great deal of fighting till an assaultis made on the city, and when that begins, I should say the Communistswill be too busy to look for absentees from the ranks. "

"We shall be in double danger then, " Pierre Leroux put in. "We run therisk 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 Versaillaisas Communists. It is a horrible position to be placed in. "

"Well, I should say, Pierre, keep your eyes open and escape if youpossibly can before the assault takes place. I should think some mightmanage to get out as women, but, of course you would have to sacrificeyour mustaches. But if you did that, and borrowed the papers of someyoung woman or other, you might manage it. No doubt it would be awkwardif you were found out, but it might be worth trying. If I cannot leavebefore the assault takes place I mean to go to one of the English hotelshere, Meurice's or the Dover, and establish myself there. During suchfighting as there may be in the streets, there will be very fewquestions asked, and one might be shot before one could explain one wasa foreigner, but the hotels are not likely to be disturbed. Seriously Ishould say that the best thing you can all do when the fighting beginsin the streets, is to keep out of the way until your battalion isengaged, then burn anything in the way of uniform, get rid of your riflesomehow, and gather at Goudé's. He could vouch for you all as being hispupils, and as being wholly opposed to the Commune. His name should besufficiently well known, if not to the first officer who may arrive, atleast, to many officers, for his testimony to be accepted. Still, I dothink that the best plan of all will be to get out of the place when youget a chance. "

Some of the students did succeed in getting out. Pierre and two othersmade 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 awoman, but the rest were forced to don the uniform and take their placesin the ranks of the National Guard. The question of leaving Paris wasfrequently discussed by Cuthbert and Mary Brander, but they finallydetermined to stay. It was morally certain that the troops would enterParis either at the Port Maillot or at the gate of Pont du Jour; or atany rate, somewhere on that side of Paris. Once inside the walls theywould meet with no resistance there--the fighting would only commencewhen they entered the city itself. Passy was to a large extent inhabitedby well-to-do people, and it was not here that the search for Communistswould begin. The troops would here be greeted as benefactors. 

"I do not think there is the smallest risk, Mary; if there were, Ishould say at once that we had better be off, and I would escort youdown to Cornwall, but as there seems to me no danger whatever, I shouldsay let us stick to our original plan. I own I should like to see theend of it all. You might amuse yourself at present by making agood-sized Union Jack, which you can hang out of your window when thetroops enter. When I see the time approaching, I intend to make anarrangement with the Michauds to establish myself here, so as toundertake the task of explaining, if necessary, but I don't think anyexplanation will be asked. It is likely enough that as soon as thetroops enter they will establish themselves in this quarter beforemaking any further advance; they will know that they have hard fightingbefore them, and until they have overcome all opposition, will haveplenty to think about, and will have no time to spare in makingdomiciliary visits. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cuthbert gave his address at Madame Michaud's. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is all most horrid, Cuthbert. "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I do, " the Communist said. 

"Take her hand, Arnold Dampierre. "

"Do you take this woman as your wife?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Certainly, if it is your wish. "

"It is my wish more even than before. "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Mary was greatly shocked upon hearing the tragic circumstances that hadoccurred at the wedding. 

"Who is the man that fired, Cuthbert?"

"His name is Jean Diantre. I heard from Dufaure that he has been a loverof Minette's; he said she had never given him any encouragement, butacknowledged that he himself believed she might have taken him at lastif she had not met Dampierre. He said that he had been uneasy for sometime, for the man had become so moody and savage that he had feared illwould come of it. He was the same man who nearly stabbed me three monthsago, 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 myconscience at all. In the first place I had no idea of killing him, andin the second, if I had not hit hard and quickly he would have firedagain and killed Arnold; lastly, I regard these Communists as no betterthan mad dogs, and the chances are ten to one that he would have beenshot 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 hundredsof men are killed every day, and there will probably be thousands shotwhen the troops enter Paris, I cannot regard the death of a would-bemurderer as a matter that will weigh on my mind for a moment. And nowwhat has been going on here? I hardly had time to notice whether thefiring was heavy. "

"It has been tremendous, " she said. "Several houses have been struck andset on fire lower down but no shells have come this way. "

"I have no doubt the troops imagine that all the houses down near Pontdu Jour, are crowded with Communists in readiness to repel any assaultthat might be made. The army is doubtless furious at the destruction ofthe Column of Vendome, which was in commemoration, not only of Napoleon, but of the victories won by French armies. Moreover, I know fromnewspapers that have been brought in from outside, and which I have seenat the café, that they are incensed to the last degree by being detainedhere, when but for this insurrection, they would have been given afurlough to visit their families when they returned from the Germanprisons. So that I can quite understand the artillerymen taking a shotoccasionally at houses they believe to be occupied by the insurgents. 

"You may be sure of one thing, and that is that very little quarterwill be shown to the Communists by the troops. Even now, I cannot buthope, that seeing the impossibility of resisting many days longer, andthe certainty of a terrible revenge if the troops have to fight theirway through the streets, the Communists will try to surrender on thebest terms they can get. Thiers has all along shown such extremeunwillingness to force the fighting, that I am sure he would give farbetter terms than they could have any right to expect, rather than thatParis should be the scene of a desperate struggle, and, if theCommunists fulfil their threats, of wholesale destruction and ruin. "

Two more days passed. Cuthbert went down each day to his old lodging andfound that Arnold was doing well. On the second day, indeed, he was outof bed with his arm in a sling and sitting partly dressed in aneasy-chair. Martin Dufaure had left that morning for his own lodging, having slept for the last two nights on the sofa. Minette had madeeverything about the rooms tidy and fresh, the windows were open, andthe distant roar of the bombardment could be plainly heard. She had awhite handkerchief tied over her head, a neat, quiet dress, and wasplaying the rôle of nurse to perfection. Cuthbert had been round toMonsieur Goudé and had told him what had happened, and he had theevening before dropped in for a talk with Arnold. 

"I am getting on wonderfully, Cuthbert, " Arnold said, on the latter'ssecond visit. "Of course it is trying to be sitting here incapable oftaking a part in what is going on. "

"You have taken quite enough part, Arnold, and I own I think your woundat the present moment is a fortunate one, for it will keep you out ofmischief. When the surgeon comes next I should strongly advise you toget him to write you a certificate certifying that you have been woundedby a pistol ball, so that if, as is probable, there will sooner or laterbe a general search for Communists, you can prove that your injury wasnot received in the fighting outside the walls, and you can refer toGoudé and me as to the fact that you are an art student here. Bothdocuments had better be made out in another name than your own, for, unfortunately, yours has been rendered familiar to them by the frequentnotices of your doings and speeches in the papers here. "

"I will see about it, " Arnold said; "I do not know that I can bringmyself to that. "

"You will be very foolish and wrong not to do so, Arnold. You are amarried 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 insurrectionhere who will not endeavor to escape under a false name; besides, evengranting that, as you believe, the cause is a righteous one, youcertainly cannot benefit it in the slightest by sacrificing your life. Your wife was a Communist Vivandière a few days ago, now she is a quietlittle wife nursing a sick husband. " Glancing at Minette he saw an angryflush on her face, and a look of dogged determination; he made noremark, however, and after chatting with Arnold for some time returnedto Passy. 

"That woman will bring destruction on them both or I am mistaken, " hesaid to Mary; "fond as she may be of Dampierre, her enthusiasm for theCommune will take her from his side when the last struggle begins. Doyou know, Mary, my presentiments about her have turned out marvellouslycorrect. " He opened his sketch-book. "Look at that, " he said; "at thetime I sketched it she was poised as a Spanish dancer, and had castanetsin her hand; the attitude is precisely that in which she stood as amodel, but it struck me at the moment that a knife would be moreappropriate to her than a castanet, and you see I drew her so, and thatis the precise attitude she stood in, dagger in hand, when I caught herwrist 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 rubsitself against the legs of its keeper, terrible when, in passion, ithurls itself upon him. In the early days the students were, to a man, fascinated with her. I stood quite alone in my disapproval. Seeing heras I saw her to-day, I admit that she is charming, but I cannot forgether fury as she bounded, knife in hand, upon the man I had knocked down. Listen! do your hear that rattle of musketry down by Pont du Jour? Thetroops must be working their way up towards the gate. Possibly, it isthe beginning of the end. "

Presently a Communist, with a red sash, rode furiously past, and in aquarter of an hour returned with a battalion of National Guards who hadbeen stationed near the Arc de Triomphe. 

"Evidently, there is a some sharp business going on, Mary. It is hardlylikely the troops can be attacking at this time of day, they would besure to choose early morning, mass their forces under cover of darkness, and go at the gate at daybreak; still, there is no doubt from thatmusketry firing, they must be trying to establish themselves nearer thegate than before. "

The batteries that had all day been playing upon Pont du Jour, hadsuddenly ceased firing, but the rattle of musketry in that directioncontinued as hotly as ever for another two hours, and a number offield-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; "ifI could get up near the Viaduct, I should be able to look down into thebastions at Pont du Jour. "

"Don't be away long, " Mary urged, "I shall be feeling very nervous tillyou get back. "

"I won't be long; I shan't stay to watch the affair, but only just tofind out what the situation is. The fact that the Communists havebrought up Field Artillery, shows that it is something more thanordinary, although, why the batteries opposite should have ceased toplay I cannot make out; they are hard at work everywhere else. "

Cuthbert made his way towards the Viaduct, and as he approached it sawthat some of the field-guns he had heard had been placed there, and thatthe parapet was lined with National Guards who were keeping up anincessant fire. Shells from Meudon and Fort Issy were bursting thicklyover and near the bridge, and Cuthbert, seeing that he could not getfurther without being exposed to the fire, and might, moreover, getinto trouble with the Communists, made his way down towards Pont duJour. Several people were standing in shelter behind the wall of one ofthe villas. 

"You had better not go farther, " one of them said, "a shell burst twentyyards 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 has been heavy, but noheavier than usual, and although the village is knocked to pieces, as Isaw for myself yesterday, no great harm was done to the bastions. "

"They have entered for all that, " one of the gentlemen said. "Severalwounded Communists have come along here, and they have all told the samestory. Of course, they put it down to the treachery of their leaders, but at any rate, owing to the tremendous fire from the upper batteriesand Issy, it was absolutely impossible to keep men in the bastions, andthey were all withdrawn. A few were left in the houses and gardens, butthe greater part fell back behind the Viaduct, which afforded themshelter. Somehow or other, the troops in the sap that had been pushedforward to within fifty yards of the gate must have come to theconclusion that the bastion was not tenanted, and trying the experiment, found themselves inside the wall without a shot having been fired. Moremust have followed them, at any rate a considerable force must havegathered there before the Communists found out they had entered. Therecan be no doubt that it was a surprise, and not a preconcerted movement, for the batteries continue to fire on the place for some time after theyhad entered. 

"In a short time, small bodies of soldiers ran across the open where theshells were still bursting thickly, established themselves in the ruinsof the village, and, as they received reinforcements, gradually workedtheir way forwards. The Communists have brought up strong forces, but sofar, they have been unable to drive back the troops, and, of course, their chance of doing so grows less and less. We can hear heavy firingall along to the right, and it seems as if the troops were pushingforward all along the line from here to Neuilly. Thank God, the end ofthis terrible business is approaching, and by to-morrow morning we maysee the troops in Passy, where there is scarce a soul but will welcomethem with open arms. Our battalion of National Guards was one of thelast to accept the orders of the Commune, and as it must be known inVersailles 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 wecan see nothing here, and if a battalion of Communists came alongbeaten, they would be as likely as not to vent their fury on all whomthey see by their appearance and dress are likely to sympathize with thetroops. "

Cuthbert walked back with them to Passy. 

"Good news, " he exclaimed, as he entered the room, where Mary and theMichauds were standing at the open window; "the troops are masters ofPoint du Jour, and the Communists have tried in vain to drive them back. No doubt, at present, the whole French army is being brought up, inreadiness to enter as soon as it is dark, and by to-morrow morning thispart of the town at any rate may be clear of the Communists. "

Exclamations of delight burst from the others. "I will run up to theroof, " Cuthbert said, "there is heavy musketry fire going on all alongthis side, and one may get an idea how matters are going, but we may besure that the Communists will all fall back upon the city as soon asthey know the troops have entered here. "

Mary went up with him, and they found the astronomer had already histelescope in position. 

"I have good news for you, Monsieur, " Cuthbert said; "the troops haveentered Pont du Jour, and although the Communists are opposing them ingreat force, they are making their way forward. It has evidently been asurprise all round, and so far no great body of troops have been broughtup, but no doubt they will soon be ready to advance in force. "

"That is good news indeed. I have been watching Asnieres, and as far asI can make out a large body of troops have crossed the bridge there, andare skirmishing towards the enciente, and gradually driving back theCommunists. They have advanced too from Neuilly and are pressing forwardtowards Porte Maillot. Mount Valerien seems to be firing at Montmartre. "

Nightfall brought no cessation of the roar of cannon, and the roll ofmusketry seemed to be continuous, both from the left and right. Everywindow at Passy was lit up; there was a crowd of women at every shopwhere colored materials could be obtained, and in every house thefemales were engaged in sewing red, white, and blue stuff of everydescription to make the National tri-colored flags, in readiness to hangout when the troops came along. Occasionally adventurous boys and youngmen came in with scraps of news; the Viaduct had been carried beforedarkness set in, a heavy column of troops had captured a strongbarricade across the road, and, following the bank of the river, hadtaken possession of the bridge of Grenelle. Another division turning tothe left had carried the gas works, while a third had captured theAsylum of St. Perrine. 

It was at the Trocadero that the insurgents were expected to make astand in earnest. Here they had erected formidable works, and werereported to be hard at work mounting guns and mitrailleuses there. Thetroops, however, gave them no time to complete their preparations. Acolumn entered a little before midnight by the gate of Passy, pushed onto the bridge of Jena, carried it after a sharp fight, and then chargedat the double towards the heights of the Trocadero, where theCommunists, taken completely by surprise, fled precipitously after aslight resistance, and at one o'clock in the morning the loyalists werein possession of this important position. At midnight another divisionentered at the Porte Maillot, and advancing took possession of the Arcde Triomphe. 

At two o'clock the head of the French column came down the street. In aninstant candles were placed at every window, flags were hung out, andthe inhabitants poured into the street and welcomed their delivererswith shouts of joy. The troops piled their arms and fell out, and assoon as they did so, men and women brought out jugs of wine andprovisions of all kinds. In half an hour the inhabitants were ordered toreturn to their houses, and the troops wrapping themselves in theirblankets laid down in the roadway to get two or three hours, sleepbefore the heavy work expected in the morning. At five they were ontheir feet again. Already the din of battle had recommenced. At daybreakBruat's division crossed the Seine by the Viaduct, kept along the leftbank, drove the insurgents from the great iron foundry of Cail, andentered the Champs de Mars. 

The Communists fought stubbornly here, but a corps was sent round toturn their position, and seeing their retreat threatened, they broke andfled, and the École Militaire was taken possession of without furtherresistance. General Cissey's division entered by the gate of Mont Rouge, where the Communists, threatened in the rear by Bruat's advance, fellback at their approach. Moving along the Boulevard Mont Rouge they cameupon very strong and formidable barricades, defended by six cannon andmitrailleuses, supported by musketry fire from the houses. The positionwas so strong that even with the assistance of the artillery Cissey wasunable to advance farther in this direction. 

Bruat's division met with strong opposition at the Cartridge Factory inthe Avenue Rapp, and the Reds were only driven out at last by artillerybeing brought up, and shelling them out. After this Bruat pushed on, captured and occupied without resistance the Invalides, and the PalaisLegislatif, opposite the Place de la Concorde. 

On the right bank the troops advanced from the Arc de Triomphe at thedouble and carried the Palais de L'Industrie after a short resistance. By mid-day the whole of the Champs Elysées as far as the barrier of thePlace de la Concorde were in possession of the troops. 

Late in the afternoon the division of General Clinchamp marched down onthe Rue Faubourg St. Honoré, came out upon the Boulevard and tookpossession of the Madeleine and the Grand Opera House. While theseoperations had been carried on the Communists, batteries on Montmartrehad thrown shells over the whole area occupied by the troops, while MontValerien and the other batteries facing the western side maintained aheavy fire upon those of Montmartre. 

Early in the morning all the members of the National Guard of Passy andAuteuil were summoned to arms and ordered to assist the troops, and werespecially enjoined to maintain order in their rear as they advanced. Numbers of Communist prisoners were taken by the troops as they workedtheir way forward, and upwards of 8, 000 were despatched under a strongescort to Versailles. The order for the National Guard to assemble wasreceived with intense satisfaction, the younger and unmarried men hadbeen forced into the ranks of the Communists, but many had during thelast day or two slipped away and remained in hiding, and all wereanxious to prove that it was loyalty and not cowardice that had causedthem to desert. 

Cuthbert was out all day watching, from points where he could obtainshelter from the flying bullets, the advance of the troops. When hereturned he told Mary that everything was going on well so far, but headded, "The work is really only beginning; the barrier at the Place dela Concorde and the batteries on the terrace of the Tuileries are reallyformidable positions, and I hear that on the south side the advance hasbeen entirely arrested by one of the barricades there. The Insurgentsnever intended to hold the outlying suburbs, and even the batteries onthe Trocadero were built to aid the Forts and not for fighting insidethe walls. You see every yard the troops gain now drives the Communistscloser and closer together, and renders the defence more easy. It may bea week yet before the Commune is finally crushed. I should think thatbefore the troops advance much further on this side they will stormMontmartre, whose batteries would otherwise take them in rear. "

The next day three divisions marched against Montmartre, and attacked itsimultaneously on three sides. The Communists here who had throughoutthe siege been the loudest and most vehement in their warlikedemonstrations, now showed that at heart they were cowards. Althoughtheir batteries were armed with over a hundred guns, they offered but amomentary resistance and fled, panic-stricken, in every direction, somethousands being taken prisoners by the troops. On the other hand, throughout the rest of Paris, the fighting became more and more severeand desperate. The Northern Railway Station was defended successfullythroughout the day. On the south side of the river but little progresswas made by the troops, and they remained stationary also in the ChampsElysées, the barriers in front being too strong to be stormed withoutfrightful loss. These, however, would be turned by the divisions who hadcaptured Montmartre, and the troops descending by different routes tothe Boulevard des Italiennes, worked their way along as far as the PorteSt. Denis, and this threatened the flank of the defenders of the Placede la Concorde and the Tuileries. 

The roar of fire was unbroken all day, the Forts, that had not yetfallen into the hands of the troops, bombarded all the quarters that hadbeen captured, and were aided by powerful batteries at Belleville, atVilette, and above all by those on the Buttes du Chaumont, where theCemetery of Père la Chaise had been converted into an entrenched camp, the positions here being defended by 20, 000 of the best troops of Paris. In the western quarters things had resumed their normal state; the shopswere opened, children played in the streets, and women gossipped at thedoors, there were men about too, for the order for the reassembling ofthe National Guard of this quarter had been cancelled, having met withthe strongest opposition in the Assembly at Versailles. 

The astronomer downstairs turned out a very useful acquaintance, forhearing from Cuthbert, that he was extremely anxious to obtain a passthat would permit him to move about near the scenes of fighting withoutthe risk of being seized and shot as a Communist, he said that he was anintimate friend of Marshal McMahon and should be glad to obtain a passfor him. On going to the quarters where the Marshal had establishedhimself, he brought back an order authorizing Cuthbert Hartington, aBritish subject, to circulate everywhere in quarters occupied by thetroops. 

"It is too late to go down this evening, Mary, " he said, "but I expectthat to-morrow a great attack upon the positions round the Tuilerieswill take place, and I shall try and get somewhere where I can seewithout being in the line of fire. I will take care to run no risk, dear; you see my life is more precious to me now than it was when Ijoined the Franc tireurs des Écoles. "

It was difficult to stop quietly indoors when so mighty a struggle wasgoing on almost within sight, and at ten o'clock in the evening he andMary went out to the Trocadero. The flashes of fire from the Loyal andCommunist batteries were incessant. Away on the south side was aconstant flicker of musketry as Cissey's troops struggled with thedefender of the barricades. An incessant fire played along the end ofthe Champs Elysées, flashed from the windows of the Tuileries andfringed the parapet of the south side of the river facing the Palais. Fires were blazing in various parts of Paris, the result of thebombardment. The city looked strangely dark, for the men at the gasworks 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 thecourse of the shell as they traversed to and fro from battery tobattery, or fell on the city. 

"It is a wonderful sight, Mary. "

"Wonderful, but very terrible, " she replied; "it is all very well tolook at from here, but only think what it must be for those within thatcircle of fire. "

"I have no pity for the Communists, " Cuthbert said, "not one spark. Theywould not pull a trigger or risk a scratch for the defence of Parisagainst the Germans, now they are fighting like wild-cats against theircountrymen. Look there, " he exclaimed, suddenly, "there is a fire brokenout close to the Place de la Concorde, a shell must have fallen there. Ifancy it must be within the barricades, but none of the batteries oneither side would have been likely to send a shell there at night, asit is so close to the line of division that the missile would be aslikely to strike friend as foe. "

Higher and higher mounted the flames, spreading as they went till a hugemass 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 ofthe Tuileries or is it on fire?

"It is fire, " Cuthbert exclaimed after a minute's pause; "see the flameshave burst through that window on the first floor. Good heavens, theCommunists are carrying out their threat to lay Paris in ashes beforethey yield. "

In five minutes all doubt was at an end, the flames were pouring outfrom every window on the first floor of the Palais, and it was evidentthe fire must have been lighted in a dozen places simultaneously. 

By this time the Trocadero was thronged with spectators attracted by thelight in the sky, and by the report that one of the public buildings wason fire; exclamations of fury and grief, and execrations upon theCommunists rose everywhere, when it was seen that the Tuileries were inflames. From points at considerable distances from each other freshoutbreaks of fire took place. Most of those standing round were able tolocate them, and it was declared that the Palace of the Court ofAccounts, the Ministries of War and Finance, the palaces of the Legionof Honor and of the Council of State, the Prefecture of Police thePalace de Justice, the Hôtel de Ville and the Palais Royale were all onfire. As the night went on the scene became more and more terrible. Paris was blazing in at least twenty places, and most of theconflagrations were upon an enormous scale. The scene was toofascinating and terrible to be abandoned, and it was not until themorning began to break that the spectators on the Trocadero returned totheir homes. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Armed with his pass Cuthbert started for the city at ten o'clock nextmorning. A dense pall of smoke hung over Paris. On the south side of theriver the conflict was still raging, as it was also on the north andeast, but the insurgents' shells were no longer bursting up the ChampsElysées and the firing had ceased at the Place de la Concorde. It wasevident that the insurgents, after performing their work of destruction, had evacuated their position there. On reaching the bottom of the ChampsElysées he found that a breach had been made in the barricade and that aconsiderable number of troops were bivouacked in the Place de laConcorde itself. 

The fire-engines from Versailles, St. Denis, and other places round werealready at work, but their efforts seemed futile indeed in face of thetremendous bodies of fire with which they had to cope. Just as Cuthbert, after passing through the breach in the barricade, on the presentationof his pass to the sentries, arrived at the end of the Rue Rivoli, amounted officer dashed up to the two engines at work opposite thebuilding that had first been fired, and said--

"You can do no good here. Take your engines to the courtyard of theTuileries and aid the troops in preventing the fire from spreading tothe Louvre. That is the only place where there is any hope of doinggood. Now, monsieur, " he said to Cuthbert, "You must fall in and aid thePompiers. The orders are that all able-bodied men are to help inextinguishing the fire. "

Cuthbert was glad to be of use, and joining the firemen ran along withthe engines down the Rue Rivoli and turned in with them into thecourtyard of the palace. The western end, containing the Stateapartments, was a mass of fire from end to end, and the flames werecreeping along both wings towards the Louvre. In the palace itself abattalion of infantry were at work. Some were throwing furniture, pictures and curtains through the window into the courtyard; others werehacking off doors and tearing up floors, while strong parties wereengaged on the roofs in stripping off the slates and tearing down thebeams and linings. 

Other engines presently arrived, for telegrams had been sent off soonafter the fires broke out to all the principal towns of France, and evento London, asking for engines and men to work them, and those fromAmiens, Lille, and Rouen had already reached Paris by train. 

After working for three hours Cuthbert showed his pass to the officerand was permitted to pass on, a large number of citizens being by thistime available for the work, having been fetched from all the suburbsoccupied by the troops. Before going very much farther Cuthbert wasstopped by a line of sentries across the street. 

"You cannot pass here, " the officer in charge said, as Cuthbert producedhis permit, "the island is still in the hands of the Communists, and thefire from their barricade across the bridge sweeps the street twentyyards farther on, and it would be certain death to show yourself there;besides, they are still in force beyond the Hôtel de Ville. You can, ofcourse, work round by the left, but I should strongly advise you to gono farther. There is desperate fighting going on in the Place de laBastille. The insurgent batteries are shelling the Boulevards hotly, and, worst of all, you are liable to be shot from the upper windows andcellars. There are scores of those scoundrels still in the houses; therehas been no time to unearth them yet, and a good many men have beenkilled 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 inthe way of fighting without running great risks, and he accordingly madehis way back to the Trocadero. Here he could see that a number of fireshad broken out at various points since morning, even in the part of thetown occupied by the troops; and though some of these might be caused bythe Communists' shell it was more probable that they were the work ofthe incendiary. He had, indeed, heard from some of the citizens to whomhe had spoken while at work at the pumps, that orders had been issuedthat all gratings and windows giving light to cellars, should be closedby wet sacks being piled against them, and should then be coveredthickly with earth, as several women had been caught in the act ofpouring petroleum into the cellars and then dropping lighted matchesdown upon it. 

These wretches had been shot instantly, but the fresh fires continuallyspringing up showed that the work was still going on. 

It was strangely silent in the streets. With the exception of thesentries at every corner there were few persons indeed abroad. Many werelooking from the windows, but few, indeed, ventured out. They knew notwhat orders had been given to the sentries and feared arrest were theyto stir beyond their doors. Moreover, the occasional crash of a shellfrom the insurgent batteries, the whistling of bullets, and the frequentdischarge of musket shots still kept up by groups of desperateCommunists who had taken refuge in the houses, was sufficient alone todeter them from making any attempt to learn what was going on. But inthe absence of footfalls in the street and of the sound of vehicles, thedistant noises were strangely audible. The rustle of the flames at theHôtel de Ville and the great fires across the river, the crash of thefalling roofs and walls, the incessant rattle of distant musketry, andthe boom of cannon, formed a weird contrast to the silence thatprevailed in the quarter. Cuthbert felt that he breathed more freelywhen he issued out again into the Champs Elysées. 

The next day he did not go down. The advance continued, but progress wasslow. On the following morning Paris was horrified by the news publishedin the papers at Versailles that statements of prisoners left no doubtthat the Archbishop of Paris and many other priests, in all a hundredpersons, had been massacred in cold blood, the methods of the firstrevolution being closely followed, and the prisoners made to walk outone by one from the gate of the prison, and being shot down as theyissued out. Another statement of a scarcely less appalling nature wasthat the female fiends of the Commune not only continued their work ofdestruction by fire, but were poisoning the troops. Several instances ofthis 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 theCommune, offered them wine. They drank it unsuspectingly, and within anhour were all dead. Orders, were consequently issued that no soldiershould on any account accept drink or food of any kind offered them bywomen. 

"This horrible massacre of the Archbishop and the other prisoners isnext door to madness, " Cuthbert said, as he read the account atbreakfast. "The Communists could have no personal feeling of hostilityagainst their victims, indeed, the Archbishop was, I know, most popular. Upon the other hand it seals the fate of thousands. The fury excited bysuch a deed will be so great that the troops will refuse to give quarterand the prisoners taken will have to suffer to the utmost for the crimecommitted by perhaps a handful of desperate wretches. The omnibusesbegan to run yesterday from Sèvres, and I propose, Mary, that we go overto Versailles to-day and get out of sound of the firing. They say thereare fully 20, 000 prisoners there. "

"I don't want to see the prisoners, " Mary said, with a shudder. "Ishould 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 togetherthrough the Park at Versailles, and carefully abstained from allallusion to the public events of the past six months. The next dayCuthbert returned to Paris and made his way down to the Place de laBastille, where, for the sum of half a Napoleon, he obtained permissionto ascend to the upper window of a house. The scene here was terrible. On the side on which he was standing a great drapery establishment, known as the Bon Marché, embracing a dozen houses, was in flames. In thesquare itself three batteries of artillery belonging to Ladmirault'sDivision, were sending their shell up the various streets debouching onthe place. 

Most of the houses on the opposite side were in flames. The insurgentbatteries on the Buttes de Chaumont were replying to the guns of thetroops. The infantry were already pressing their way upwards. Some ofthe barricades were so desperately defended that the method by whichalone the troops on the south side had been able to capture thesedefences, was adopted; the troops taking possession of the houses andbreaking their way with crow-bar and pick-axe through the party wall, and so, step by step, making their way along under cover until theyapproached the barricades, which they were then able to make untenableby their musketry fire from the windows. Cuthbert remained here for anhour or two, and then making a detour came out on the Boulevards higherup. 

The Theatre of Porte St. Martin was in flames, as were many otherbuildings. A large number of troops with piled arms occupied the centreof the street, taking their turn to rest before they relieved theircomrades in the work of assault. Presently he saw down a side street aparty of soldiers with some prisoners. He turned down to see what wasgoing 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 your countrydoes not breed such wretches as these. Every one of them has been caughtin the course of the last hour in the act of setting houses alight. Theyare now to be shot. "

"It is an unpleasant duty, monsieur, " Cuthbert said. 

"It would be horrible at any other time, " the officer said. "But wecannot consider these creatures as human beings. They are wild beastsand I verily believe the women are worse than the men. There is only oneI would spare, though she is the worst of all. At every barricade wherethe fighting has been fiercest for the last four days she has beenconspicuous. The troops got to know her by her red cap and dress. Shehas been seen to shoot down men who attempted to retire, and she has leda charmed life or she would have been killed a thousand times. When shewas taken she had on an old dress over her red one, and a hideous bonnetin place of the cap. She was caught just as she had dropped a lightedmatch into a cellar. The flames flashed up at once, and two soldiersnear ran up and arrested her. She stabbed one, but the other broke herwrist with a blow from the butt of his musket. 

"Then came a curious thing. A man who had been standing in a doorway onthe opposite side of the street ran out and declared that he was asharer in her crime. His air was that of a madman, and the men wouldhave pushed him away, but he exclaimed, 'I am Arnold Dampierre, one ofthe leaders of the Commune. This is my wife. ' Then the woman said, 'Theman is mad. I have never seen him before. I know Arnold Dampierreeveryone knows him. He does not resemble this man, whose proper place isa lunatic asylum. ' So they contended, and both were brought before thedrumhead 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. Thenthe woman threw herself into his arms. 'We will die together then!' shesaid. 'I would have saved you if you would have let me. ' Then she turnedto 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 twentyfires, 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 hour since, andmy duty was to the Commune first, and to my husband afterwards. I hateand despise you slaves of tyrants. You have conquered us but we havetaught a lesson to the men who fatten on our suffering. '

"Of course they were both ordered to be shot. I have given them all fiveminutes, 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 weremostly old, or at least middle-aged, and they stood scowling at thesoldiers, and some of them pouring out the foulest imprecations uponthem. 

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 obliviousto all else. Her head was held erect and she looked at her executionerswith an air of proud defiance. 

Cuthbert hurried away, filled with an intense feeling of pity andregret. He heard Minette cry in a loud clear voice, "Vive la Commune!"Then there was a sharp volley and all was over, and a minute later thesoldiers passed him on the way to join their comrades. 

He stood for a time at the corner of the street irresolute. He had seenscores of dead in the streets. He had thought he could see nothing worsethan he had witnessed, but he felt that he could not go back, as he hadfirst thought of doing, to the scene of execution. Comrades had fallenby his side in the fight at Champigny, but he had not felt for them asfor this comrade who lay behind him, or for the girl who, with hertalents, might have had a bright future before her had she been thrownamid other surroundings. He wondered whether he could obtain theirbodies for burial. 

It did not seem to him possible. Vehicles could not be obtained at anyprice. The very request would seem suspicious, and suspicion at thathour was enough to condemn a man unheard. The difficulties in the waywould be enormous. Indeed, it would matter nothing. Arnold and Minette. They had fallen together and would lie together in one of the greatcommon graves in which the dead would be buried. It would be littleshort of a mockery to have the burial service read over her, and hadArnold been consulted he would have preferred to lie beside her to beinglaid in a grave apart. 

So after a pause of five minutes Cuthbert moved away without venturing asingle look back at the group huddled down by the wall, but walked awayfeeling crushed and overwhelmed by the untimely fate that had befallentwo persons of whom he had seen so much during the past year, andfeeling as feeble as he did when he first arose from his bed in theAmerican ambulance. 

Several times he had to pause and lean against the wall, and when hehad passed the barricade at the Place de la Concorde, towards which hehad almost instinctively made his way, he sat down on one of thedeserted seats in the Champs Elysées, and burst into tears. It hadhardly come upon him as a surprise, for he had felt that, conspicuous ashe had made himself, the chances of Arnold making his escape were smallindeed, especially as Minette would cling to the Commune until the veryend. Still it never struck him as being possible that he himself mightwitness the end. He had thought that the same obscurity that hung overthe fate of most of the other leaders of the Commune would envelop thatof Arnold. He would have fallen, but how or when would never have beenknown. He would simply have disappeared. Rumor would have mentioned hisname for a few days, the rumor that was already busy with the fate ofother leaders of the insurrection, and he had never dreamt that it wouldbe brought home to him in this fashion. After a time Cuthbert pulledhimself together, waited until a fiacre came along for on this side ofParis things were gradually regaining their usual aspect and then droveback to Passy. 

"What is the matter, Cuthbert?" Mary exclaimed as she caught sight ofhis face. "Are you ill? You look terribly pale and quite unlikeyourself. What has happened?"

"I have had a shock, Mary, " he said, with a faint attempt at a smile, "avery bad shock. Don't ask me about it just at present. Please get mesome brandy. I have never fainted in my life, but I feel very near itjust at present. "

Mary hurried away to Madame Michaud, who now always discreetly withdrewas soon as Cuthbert was announced, and returned with some cognac, atumbler, and water. She poured him out a glass that seemed to herself tobe almost alarmingly strong, but he drank it at a draught. 

"Don't be alarmed, Mary, " he said, with a smile, at the consternation inher face. "You won't often see me do this, and I can assure you thatspirit-drinking is not an habitual vice with me, but I really wanted itthen. They are still fighting fiercely from Porte St. Martin down to thePlace de la Bastille. I believe all resistance has been crushed out onthe south side of the river, and in a couple of days the whole thingwill be over. "

"Fancy a week of fighting. It is awful to think of, Cuthbert. How manydo you suppose will be killed altogether?"

"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 hasbeen for the last three, I should say fully 20, 000 will have fallen, besides those taken with arms in their hands, tried, and shot. I hearthere are two general court-martials sitting permanently, and that sevenor eight hundred prisoners are shot every day. Then there are someeighteen or twenty thousand at Versailles, but as these will not betried 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 constantly breaking out. The Louvre is safe, andthe firemen have checked the spread of the flames at the publicbuildings, but there are streets where every house is alight for adistance of a quarter of a mile; and yet, except at these spots, thedamage is less than you would expect considering how fierce a battle hasbeen raging. There are streets where scarce a bullet mark is to be seenon the walls or a broken pane of glass in a window, while at pointswhere barricades have been defended, the scene of ruin is terrible. "

Two days later a strange stillness succeeded the din and uproar that hadfor a week gone on without cessation night and day. Paris was conquered, the Commune was stamped out, its chiefs dead or fugitives, its rank andfile slaughtered, or prisoners awaiting trial. France breathed again. Ithad been saved from a danger infinitely more terrible than a Germanoccupation. In a short time the hotels were opened and visitors began topour into Paris to gaze at the work of destruction wrought by the orgieof the Commune. One day Cuthbert, who was now installed in his ownlodging, went up to Passy. 

"I hear that the English Church is to be open to-morrow, Mary. I calledon the clergyman to-day and told him that I should probably require hisservices next week. "

"Cuthbert!" Mary exclaimed in surprise, "you cannot mean----" and aflush of color completed the sentence. 

"Yes, that is just what I do mean, Mary. You have kept me waiting threeyears and I am not going to wait a day longer. "

"I have given up much of my belief in women's rights, Cuthbert, butthere are some I still maintain, and one of these is that a woman has aright to be consulted in a matter of this kind. "

"Quite so, dear, and therefore I have left the matter open, and I willleave you to fix the day and you can choose any one you like from Mondayto Saturday next week. "

"But I must have time, Cuthbert, " she said, desperately. "I have, ofcourse, things to get. "

"The things that you have will do perfectly well, my dear. Besides, manyof the shops are open and you can get anything you want. As for a dressfor the occasion, if you choose to fix Saturday you will have twelvedays, which is twice as long as necessary. Putting aside my objection towaiting any longer I want to get away from here to some quiet placewhere we can forget the events of the past month, and get our nervesinto working order again. If there is any reason that you can declarethat you honestly believe to be true and valid of course I must giveway, but if not let it be Saturday week. That is right. I see that youhave nothing to urge, " and a fortnight later they were settled in achâlet high up above the Lake of Lucerne. 

René and Pierre acted as Cuthbert's witnesses at the marriage. Pierrehad escaped before the fighting began. René had done service with theNational Guard until the news came that the troops had entered Paris, then he had gone to M. Goudé's who had hidden him and seven or eight ofthe other students in an attic. When the troops approached, they hadtaken refuge on the roof and had remained there until the tide of battlehad swept past, and they then descended, and arraying themselves intheir painting blouses had taken up their work at the studio; and when, three days later, the general search for Communists began, they werefound working so diligently that none suspected that they had ever fireda shot in the ranks of the Communists. 

When the salon was opened, long after its usual time, Cuthbert'spictures were well hung and obtained an amount of praise that more thansatisfied him, although his wife insisted that they were not half aswarm as the pictures deserved. It was not until they had been for sometime in Switzerland that Mary had learned the details of the deaths ofArnold and Minette Dampierre. That both were dead she knew, for when shementioned their names for the first time after the close of thefighting, Cuthbert told her that he had learned that both were dead, andbegged her to ask no question concerning them until he himself returnedto the subject. 

Mary wrote to her mother a day or two after she was married giving herthe news. An answer was received from Scarborough expressing greatsatisfaction, and saying that it was probable that the family wouldsettle where they were. Neither Cuthbert nor his wife liked the thoughtof returning to England, and for the next five years remained abroad. After spending a few months at Dresden, Munich, Rome, and Florence, theysettled at Venice. Cuthbert continued to work hard, and each year two orthree of his pictures hung on the walls of the Academy and attractedmuch attention, and were sold at excellent prices. All his earnings inthis way and the entire income of Fairclose were put aside to pay offthe mortgage, and when, at the end of the five years, Cuthbert, hiswife, and two children returned to Fairclose, the greater portion of themortgage had been paid off, and three years later it was entirely wipedout. 

Although very warmly received by the county, Cuthbert retained hispreference for London, and during the winter six months always moved upto a house in the artists' quarter at St. John's Wood. Although he nolonger painted as if compelled to do so for a living, he workedregularly and steadily while in town, and being able to take his time incarrying out his conceptions, his pictures increased in value and hetook a place in the front rank of artists, and some fifteen years afterthe siege of Paris was elected Academician. Before this he had soldFairclose and built himself a house in Holland Park, where he was ableto indulge his love for art to the fullest extent. 

Of his wife's family he saw but little. Mary's sisters both marriedbefore he and his wife returned from abroad. Mary went down occasionallyto Scarborough, and stayed with her father and mother, but Mr. Brandersteadily refused all invitations to visit them in London, and until hisdeath, fifteen years later, never left Scarborough, where he became avery popular man, although no persuasions could induce him to take apart in any of its institutions or public affairs. 

Cuthbert has often declared that the most fortunate event in his lifewas that he was a besieged resident in Paris through its two sieges. Asfor Mary she has been heard to declare that she has no patience, whatever, with the persons who frequent platforms and talk about women'srights. 

Not far from the spot in la Chaise where the pits in which countlessnumbers of Communists were buried are situated, stands a small marblecross, on whose pedestal are inscribed the words:--"To the memory ofArnold Dampierre and his wife, Minette, whose bodies rest near thisplace. "

THE END. 

_12mo, cloth, $1. 25_

THE MASSARENES

By OUIDA

AUTHOR OF

"UNDER TWO FLAGS, " "WANDA, " ETC. 

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NEW YORK: R. F. FENNO & COMPANY

_12mo, cloth, $1. 25_

JASPER FAIRFAX

BY

MARGRET HOLMES

Author of "Chamber Over the Gate, " Etc. , Etc. 

"Will be read with interest. "--_Chicago Record. _

"One of those typical American novels in conception anddevelopment. "--_Boston Courier. _

"Of interest from first to last. "--_Public Opinion. _

"A good, strong, skillfully told American novel. "--_Chicago News. _

"A story that will create a sensation. "--_Boston Globe. _

"One of the most original, able and remarkable of recentnovels. "--_Minneapolis Tribune. _

"The book is thrilling and dramatic. "--_New Orleans Item. _

"Will not lack for admirers. "--_Boston Times. _

"Very attractive story. "--_Plain Dealer. _

"One of the best Southern novels we have ever read. "--_Atlanta Star. _

NEW YORK

R. F. FENNO & COMPANY

9 AND 11 EAST 16TH STREET

_12mo, cloth, $1, 25. _

"When The World Was Younger"

By M. E. BRADDON

"Miss Braddon skilfully uses as a background the great plague and firein London, which gives realism to her picture. "--_Rochester Herald. _

"The characters are clearly drawn and strongly contrasted. The mannersof the times, the intrigues of the court, the landmarks of London, areunerringly painted. " _Boston Times. _

"The first attempt Miss M. E. Braddon has made in the line of thehistorical novel. "--_Literary World. _

"She has chosen the period of the Restoration of Charles the Second forher romance, and has given us an excellent description of the state ofsociety in London and at the Court during the reign of that dissolutemonarch. "--_Home Queen. _

"It is needless to say that the story is well told. "--_San FranciscoChronicle. _

"One of the strongest and most enjoyable of her stories"--_PhiladelphiaInquirer. _

"It abounds in mystifying plot, lovable characters, rapid and thrillingincident and delightful descriptions of English scenery. "--_BostonGlobe. _

"A tale worth reading. "--_San Francisco Call. _

"Full of incident, chapter after chapter, brimming with vitalmeanings. "--_Boston Courier. _

"Beautiful, innocent and brave was Angela, the heroine. "--_PhiladelphiaBulletin. _

"It is a Braddon story in the famous old Braddon vein. "--_St. LouisMirror. _

"This one reviewing the days of Cromwell and the Charles is no shallowpiece of work. "--_Philadelphia American. _

"Miss Braddon has caught the atmosphere cleverly and manufactured astirring novel which bears evidence of careful thought andplanning. "--_Chicago Record. _

"The scene is laid in England in the early days of the Restoration. Charles II. , Nell Gwynne, Pepys, and Milton are among thecharacters. "--_Buffalo Express. _

"None of her books tells a more interesting story. "--_St. Louis Star. _

R. F. FENNO & COMPANY, New York

_Small 12mo, 75 cents. _

THE STORY OF A GENIUS

_From the German of Ossip Schubin. _

_The International_ in a recent issue had this to say concerning thistalented authoress: "'Ossip Schubin' is the pseudonym of AloysiaKirschmer, an Austrian authoress of growing popularity. She was born inPrague, in June, 1854, and her early youth was spent on a country estateof her parents. Since her eighteenth year she has travelled extensively, spending her winters in some one of the large cities. Rome, Paris orBrussels, and her work shows the keen observation and cool judgment of acosmopolitan writer. She is well liked in England. " The story underconsideration is infinitely sad, beautiful, exalting. At one moment youare rejoicing at the idyllic happiness of the lover, the bright promiseof a glorious future. Then the scene changes, and your heart is bleedingwith unutterable anguish at the mute grief that follows the irreparableloss of his love, which carries in its train lost ambition, talent, manhood. Just let us quote one passage: "There is a suffering so painfulthat no hand is tender enough to touch it, and so deep that no heart isbrave enough to fathom it. Dumbly we sink the head, as before somethingsacred. Never could he reproach her lying there before him, clad in theblue dress, of which every fold, so dear to him, cried 'forgive!' Not toour desecrated love do I appeal, but to our sweet caressingfriendship, --forgive the sister what the bride has done!' How could hereproach her, with her parting kiss still on his lips?"

R. F. FENNO & COMPANY

9 and 11 EAST 16TH STREET, NEW YORK

_12mo, cloth, $1. 25_

An Unofficial Patriot

By HELEN H. GARDENER

"It is a side of the slavery question of which Northern people knewnothing. "--_John A. Cockerill, N. Y. Advertiser. _

"Strong and picturesque sketches of camp and field in the days of theCivil War. "--_San Francisco Chronicle. _

"The book is being dramatized by Mr. James A. Herne, the well-knownactor, author and manager. "--_N. Y. Press. _

"It tells a splendid story. "--_Journal, Columbus, O_

"Will be sure to attract the attention it deserves. "--_PhiladelphiaPress. _

"In its scope and power it is unrivalled among war stories. "--_Ideas, Boston, Mass. _

"In many ways the most remarkable historical novel of the CivilWar. "--_Home Journal, Boston, Mass. _

"The interview with Lincoln is one of the finest bits of dialogue in amodern book. "--_Chicago Herald. _

"Will probably be the most popular and saleable novel since RobertElsmere. "--_Republican. _

"One of the most instructive and fascinating writers of ourtime. "--_Courier-Journal, Louisville. _

"Is calculated to command as wide attention as Judge Tourgée's 'Fool'sErrand. '"--_N. Y. Evening Telegram. _

"Has enriched American literature. "--_Item, Philadelphia. _

"Remarkably true to history. "--_Inter-Ocean, Chicago_

"Entitled to a place with standard histories of the War. "--_AtlantaJournal. _

NEW YORK: R. F. FENNO & COMPANY