weeping all Paris off its feet, the malady
that had been bequeathed to them by the crimes and follies of the late
reign, the other strong in his ignorance and practical common sense,
untainted as yet because he had grown up apart from the contaminating
principle, in the land where industry and thrift were honored. They were
brothers, however, none the less; the tie that united them was strong,
and it was a pang to them both when the crowd suddenly surged forward
and parted them.

"_Au revoir_, Maurice!"

"_Au revoir_, Jean!"

It was a regiment, the 79th, debouching from a side street, that had
caused the movement among the crowd, forcing the rioters back to the
sidewalks by the weight of its compact column, closed in mass. There
was some hooting, but no one ventured to bar the way against the soldier
boys, who went by at double time, well under control of their officers.
An opportunity was afforded the little squad of the 124th to make their
escape, and they followed in the wake of the larger body.

"_Au revoir_, Jean!"

"_Au revoir_, Maurice!"

They waved their hands once more in a parting salute, yielding to the
fatality that decreed their separation in that manner, but each none the
less securely seated in the other's heart.

The extraordinary occurrences of the next and the succeeding days
crowded on the heels of one another in such swift sequence that Maurice
had scarcely time to think. On the morning of the 19th Paris awoke
without a government, more surprised than frightened to learn that a
panic during the night had sent army, ministers, and all the public
service scurrying away to Versailles, and as the weather happened to be
fine on that magnificent March Sunday, Paris stepped unconcernedly down
into the streets to have a look at the barricades. A great white poster,
bearing the signature of the Central Committee and convoking the people
for the communal elections, attracted attention by the moderation of its
language, although much surprise was expressed at seeing it signed by
names so utterly unknown. There can be no doubt that at this incipient
stage of the Commune Paris, in the bitter memory of what it had endured,
in the suspicions by which it was haunted, and in its unslaked thirst
for further fighting, was against Versailles. It was a condition of
absolute anarchy, moreover, the conflict for the moment being between
the mayors and the Central Committee, the former fruitlessly attempting
to intr