had commanded a company in the 106th, he had
enlisted at once in his former acquaintance's new company in the 124th.
His old rank as corporal had been restored to him, and that evening he
had just left the Prince Eugene barracks with his squad on his way to
the left bank, where the entire army was to concentrate, when a mob
collected about his men and stopped them as they were passing along the
boulevard Saint-Martin. The insurgents yelled and shouted, and evidently
were preparing to disarm his little band. With perfect coolness he
told them to let him alone, that he had no business with them or their
affairs; all he wanted was to obey his orders without harming anybody.
Then a cry of glad surprise was heard, and Maurice, who had chanced
to pass that way, threw himself on the other's neck and gave him a
brotherly hug.

"What, is it you! My sister wrote me about you. And just think, no later
than this very morning I was going to look you up at the war office!"

Jean's eyes were dim with big tears of pleasure.

"Ah, my dear lad how glad I am to see you once more! I have been looking
for you, too, but where could a fellow expect to find you in this
confounded great big place?"

To the crowd, continuing their angry muttering, Maurice turned and said:

"Let me talk to them, citizens! They're good fellows; I'll answer
for them." He took his friend's hands in his, and lowering his voice:
"You'll join us, won't you?"

Jean's face was the picture of surprise. "How, join you? I don't
understand." Then for a moment he listened while Maurice railed against
the government, against the army, raking up old sores and recalling all
their sufferings, telling how at last they were going to be masters,
punish dolts and cowards and preserve the Republic. And as he struggled
to get the problems the other laid before him through his brain, the
tranquil face of the unlettered peasant was clouded with an increasing
sorrow. "Ah, no! ah, no! my boy. I can't join you if it's for that fine
work you want me. My captain told me to go with my men to Vaugirard, and
there I'm going. In spite of the devil and his angels I will go there.
That's natural enough; you ought to know how it is yourself." He laughed
with frank simplicity and added:

"It's you who'll come along with us."

But Maurice released his hands with an angry gesture of dissent, and
thus they stood for some seconds, face to face, one under the influence
of that madness that was s