posed it. . . . But all were accepting it
with the firm intention of fulfilling their duty.

During the daytime Paris was very quiet, concentrating the mind on
the work in hand. Only a few groups of exalted patriots, following the
tricolored flag, were passing through the place de la Concorde, in order
to salute the statue of Strasbourg. The people were accosting each other
in a friendly way in the streets. Everybody seemed to know everybody
else, although they might not have met before. Eye attracted eye,
and smiles appeared to broaden mutually with the sympathy of a common
interest. The women were sad but speaking cheerily in order to hide
their emotions. In the long summer twilight, the boulevards were filling
with crowds. Those from the outlying districts were converging toward
the centre of the city, as in the remote revolutionary days, banding
together in groups, forming an endless multitude from which came shouts
and songs. These manifestations were passing through the centre under
the electric lights that were just being turned on, the processions
generally lasting until midnight, with the national banner floating
above the walking crowds, escorted by the flags of other nations.

It was on one of these nights of sincere enthusiasm that the two friends
heard an unexpected, astonishing piece of news. "They have killed
Jaures!" The groups were repeating it from one to another with an
amazement which seemed to overpower their grief. "Jaures assassinated!
And what for?" The best popular element, which instinctively seeks an
explanation of every proceeding, remained in suspense, not knowing
which way to turn. The tribune dead, at the very moment that his word as
welder of the people was most needed! . . .

Argensola thought immediately of Tchernoff. "What will our neighbors
say?" . . . The quiet, orderly people of Paris were fearing a
revolution, and for a few moments Desnoyers believed that his cousin's
auguries were about to be fulfilled. This assassination, with its
retaliations, might be the signal for civil war. But the masses of the
people, worn out with grief at the death of their hero, were waiting in
tragic silence. All were seeing, beyond his dead body, the image of the
country.

By the following morning, the danger had vanished. The laboring classes
were talking of generals and war, showing each other their little
military memorandums, announcing the date of their departure as soon as
the order of mobil