Part 12 (1/2)

CHAPTER VIII.

M. Goude grumbled much when he heard that his whole cla.s.s were going to be absent for three days.

”A nice interruption to study,” he said, ”however, you were none of you doing yourselves any good, and you may as well be out in the fields as hanging about the streets gossiping. We can always talk, but during the past six weeks Paris has done nothing but talk. Don't come back with any of your number short. You have all got something in you and are too good for food for Prussian powder.”

Cuthbert went that evening to the Michauds, in his uniform, not for the purpose of showing it off, but because men in plain clothes, especially if of fair complexions, were constantly stopped and accused of being German spies, were often ill-treated, and not unfrequently had to pa.s.s a night in the cells before they could prove their ident.i.ty. Mary gave an exclamation of surprise at seeing him so attired, but made no remark until after chatting for half an hour with the Michauds. The husband presently made the excuse that he had to attend a meeting and went off, while madame took up some knitting, settled herself in an easy chair, and prepared for a quiet doze, then Mary said in English--

”I have no patience with you, Cuthbert, taking part with these foolish people. The more I see of them the more I get tired of their bombast and their empty talk. Every man expects everyone else to do something and no one does anything.”

”They have had nothing to stir them into action yet,” he said, ”only the regulars and the moblots go outside the wall, and the National Guard are practically useless until the Germans make an a.s.sault. Besides, three parts of them are married men with families, and nothing short of their homes being in danger will stir them up to risk their lives. We are going out for three days to the outposts, we fall in at five o'clock to-morrow morning.”

”You are going to risk your life,” she said, indignantly, ”for the Parisians, who have no idea whatever of risking theirs. I call it madness.”

”You are going against your own doctrines, Miss Brander. Before you were indignant with me for doing nothing and being in earnest about nothing.

Now that I am doing something and that in grim earnest, you are just as indignant as you were before.”

”I did not mean this sort of thing,” she said.

”No, I don't suppose you contemplated this. But you wanted me to work for work's sake, although as it seemed then there was no occasion for me to work.”

”If it had been on the other side I should not have minded.”

”Just so,” he smiled. ”You have become Germanized, I have not. My friends here have all enlisted; I am going with them partly because they are my friends and partly because it is evident the Germans might have well stopped this war before now, but they demand terms that France can never submit to as long as there is the faintest hope of success. You need not be at all anxious about me. We are not going to attack the Prussian positions I can a.s.sure you. We are only going out to do a little outpost duty, to learn to hear the bullets flying without ducking, and to fire our rifles without shutting our eyes. I don't suppose there are five men in the three companies who have ever fired a rifle in their lives.

”You see the Franc-tireurs are to a great extent independent of the military authorities--if you can call men military authorities who exercise next to no authority over their soldiers. The Franc-tireurs come and go as they choose, and a good many of them wear the uniform only as a means of escape from serving, and as a whole they are next to useless. I think our corps will do better things. We are all students of art, law or physic, and a good deal like such volunteer corps as the artists or 'Inns of Court.' Some of the younger professors are in the ranks, and at least we are all of average intelligence and education, so I fancy we shall fight if we get a chance. I don't mean now, but later on when we have gained confidence in ourselves and in our rifles. Just at present the Parisians are disposed to look upon the Germans as bogies, but this will wear off, and as discipline is recovered by the line, and the mobiles grow into soldiers, you will see that things will be very different; and although I don't indulge in any vain fancy that we are going to defeat the German army, I do think that we shall bear ourselves like men and show something of the old French spirit.”

”That will be a change, indeed,” the girl said, scornfully.

”Yes, it will be a change,” he answered, quietly, ”but by no means an impossible one. You must not take the vaporings and bombast of the Paris Bourgeois or the ranting of Blanqui and the Belleville roughs as the voice of France. The Germans thought that they were going to take Paris in three days. I doubt if they will take it in three months. If we had provisions I should say they would not take it in treble that time. They certainly would not do it without making regular approaches, and before they can do that they have to capture some of the forts. These, as you know, are manned by 10,000 sailors, hardy marines and Bretons, well disciplined and untainted by the politics which are the curse of this country. Well, I must be going. I have to purchase my three days' store of provisions on my way back to my lodgings and shall have to turn out early.”

”Don't do anything rash,” she said, earnestly.

”I can a.s.sure you rashness is not in my line at all, and I don't suppose we shall ever get within five hundred yards of a Prussian soldier. You need not be in the least uneasy, even supposing that you were inclined to fidget about me?”

”Of course, I should fidget about you,” she said, indignantly. ”After knowing you ever since I was a little child, naturally I should be very sorry if anything happened to you.”

”By the way,” he said, without pursuing the subject farther, ”I hear that there is a movement on foot for forming a corps of women. If they should do so it will afford you another ill.u.s.tration of the equality of your s.e.x to ours in all matters, and I will go so far as to admit that I would much rather lead a company of the market-women than one composed of these Parisian shopkeepers.”

”Don't, Mr. Hartington,” she said, appealingly, ”I don't feel equal to fighting now.”

”Then we won't fight. Good-bye! If we are not lucky enough to light upon some empty cottages to sleep in I fancy the gloss will be taken out of this uniform before I see you again.” He picked up his cap, shook hands, and was gone.

Madame Michaud woke up as the door closed.

”He has gone? your tall countryman.”

”Yes, he is going out to-morrow to the outposts. I think it is very silly of him and very wrong mixing up in a quarrel that does not concern him, especially when there are tens of thousands here in Paris who, instead of fighting for their country, are content to sit all day in cafes and talk.”

”They will fight when the time comes,” Madame Michaud said, complacently. ”They will fight like heroes. The Prussians will learn what Frenchmen are capable of doing.”

But Mary had no patience just at present to listen to this sort of thing, and with the excuse that her head ached went at once to her room.