the other he makes wild signs to two companions on the other side of
the way. "I saw them this morning in the Place du Carrousel," he
continues in the same strain. "That was fine, I tell you! And then this
battalion came to fetch them, with the music and all. Now they are going
to salute the Republic; come along, I say. Double quick time!" So the
butcher-boy, and the woman with the child, and myself, and all the rest
of the bystanders, turn and follow the eight or ten thousand members of
Parisian freemasonry who are crowding along the Rue de Rivoli. In the
front and rear of the procession I notice a large number of unarmed men,
dressed in loose Zouave trousers of dark-blue cloth, with white gaiters,
white bands, and blue jackets. Their heads are mostly bare. I am told
these are the Communist sharpshooters. Ever so far on in front of us a
large white banner is floating, bearing an inscription which I cannot
manage to read on account of the distance. However, the butcher-boy has
made it out, and informs us that "Love one another" is written there.
Happy, delusive Freemasons! "Tolerate one another" is scarcely
practicable! In the meantime we continue to follow at the heels of the
procession. There is much shouting and noise, here and there a feeble
"_Vive la Commune!_" But the principal cries are, "Down with the
murderers! Death to assassins! Down with Versailles!" A Freemason doffs
his hat and shouts, "_Vive la Paix!_ It is peace we are going to seek!"

I am still sadly confused, and cannot make up my mind what all this is
about. Patience, however, I shall know all at the Hotel de Ville. Here
we are. The National Guard keeps the ground, and the whole procession
files into the Cour d'Honneur. Carried on by the crowd, I find myself
near the entrance and can see what is going on inside. The whole of the
Commune is out on the balcony, at the top of the grand staircase, in
front of the statue of the Republic, which like the Communists wears a
red scarf. Great trophies of red flags are waving everywhere. Men
bearing the banners of the society are stationed on every step; on each
is inscribed, in golden letters, mottos of peace and fraternity. A
patriarchal Freemason, wearing his collar and badges, has arrived in a
carriage; they help him to alight with marks of the greatest respect.
The court is by this time full to overflowing, an enthusiastic cry of
"Vive la Franc Maconnerie! Vive la Republique Universelle!" is re-echoed
from