the
representative of the great Republic across the sea, that he would
accept no office, but would fight as a simple volunteer. He, too, goes
about on horseback, with a red scarf, and when you see Minette you may
be sure that he is not far off."

"Without absolutely considering Dampierre to be a fool, I have always
regarded him as being, well, not mad, but different to other people. His
alternate fits of idleness and hard work, his infatuation for Minette,
his irritation at the most trifling jokes, and the moody state into
which he often fell, all seem to show as the Scots say, 'a bee in his
bonnet,' and I can quite fancy the excitement of the times, and his
infatuation for that woman may have worked him up to a point much more
nearly approaching madness than before. I am very sorry, Rene, for there
was a good deal to like about him, he was a gentleman and a chivalrous
one. In Minette he saw not a clever model, but a peerless woman, and was
carried away by enthusiasm, which is, I think, perfectly real: she is in
her true element now, and is, I should say, for once not acting. Well,
it is a bad business. If the Commune triumphs, as I own that it seems
likely enough, it will do, he will in time become disgusted with the
adventurers and ambitious scoundrels by whom he is surrounded, and will,
like the Girondists, be among the first victims of the wild beasts he
has helped to bring into existence. If the troops prove faithful, the
Commune will be crushed, and all those who have made themselves
conspicuous are likely to have but a short shrift of it when martial law
is established. Well, Rene, as there is nothing that can be done in the
matter, it is of no use troubling about it. None of the others have gone
that way, I suppose."

"Of course not," Rene exclaimed indignantly. "You don't suppose that
after the murder of the generals any decent Frenchman would join such a
cause, even if he were favorable to its theories. Morbleu! Although I
hate tyrants I should be tempted to take up a rifle and go out and
defend them were they menaced by such scum as this. It is not even as it
was before; then it was the middle class who made the Revolution, and
there was at least much that was noble in their aims, but these
creatures who creep out from their slums like a host of obnoxious beasts
animated sorely by hatred for all around them, and by a lust for plunder
and blood, they fill one with loathing and disgust. There is not among
the