Part 14 (2/2)

Monsieur Pirenne, who was in the middle of saying something, received a great fright, and wondered whether she or her horse had gone mad. He followed her at once, calling after her anxiously, ”Pull up, mademoiselle, pull up! You will be killed!”

The solicitor did not see her, but just before she reached him he stepped on to a pa.s.sing tram and was whirled away, and before Barbara had decided whether to pursue an electric tram or not, Monsieur Pirenne had reached her side and seized her reins. He looked really frightened, and annoyed too, but when Barbara told him that the horse had only been running in accordance with the will of her mistress, he composed himself a little, merely remarking that it was hardly _comme il faut_ to gallop in the streets like that.

”But, Monsieur Pirenne,” Barbara said eagerly, ”I know you would have done the same if you had known the story;” and therewith she began to tell it to him. He was immensely interested, for there is nothing a Frenchman enjoys more than an adventure, and at the end of the tale he was almost as excited as she was.

”Could we trace him now?” he questioned eagerly. ”But--I fear the chance is small--the description is so vague, and you did not even see the name on the tram, and we have no proofs. Yet, mademoiselle, if you will go to the _prefecture_ with me, I will do my best.”

But Barbara shook her head decidedly. The thought of police courts, especially French ones, alarmed her, and the warnings she had received to keep out of any more ”complications” were still very fresh in her mind.

”I think I should rather not go to the _prefecture_, monsieur,” she said quickly. ”I do not think it would be any good either.”

”I agree with you perfectly.” And Monsieur Pirenne bowed gallantly.

”Therefore, shall we proceed on our way? Does mademoiselle regret that she did not catch him?” he asked, after a while.

”I am sorry he is not caught--but I am not sorry _I_ did not catch him, though that seems rather contradictory, doesn't it?”

”By which mademoiselle means that she does not know what she would have done with one hand on the miscreant's collar, the other on the reins, and a crowd around her?” the Frenchman inquired politely.

”That's just it,” laughed Barbara. ”You have exactly described it--though I should be glad if _some one_ caught him and made him give back the money.”

”I will keep my eyes open on your behalf, and shall let you know if anything happens,” he said sympathetically; and Barbara, remembering his kindness, did not like to remind him that, never having seen the man, he could not possibly be of much service to her.

When Mademoiselle Therese heard that she had seen the solicitor again, she was almost as excited as Barbara had been, and at once proposed that they should spend the rest of the evening in Dinard, looking for him; and it was not until the girl pointed out that he might now be on his way to England, or a long way off in another direction, that she became reconciled to returning home.

Excitement seemed in the air that evening, and when they arrived at the St. Servan quay there were more idlers than usual. They wondered what was the cause, and when Mademoiselle Therese, with her customary desire to get at the bottom of everything, asked the reason, she was told that the strike among the timber-yard men, which had been threatened for some time, had begun that afternoon, and that work was suspended.

It was all the more astonis.h.i.+ng because it had come so suddenly, and Barbara could hardly tear mademoiselle away from the spot until she suggested that those at home might not have heard of it yet, and that she might be the first to tell it to them. Hurrying through the town, they heard great shouting from the other side of the quay, which made mademoiselle nearly break into a run with eagerness. As it happened, however, the news had already spread to their street, and they found Mademoiselle Loire equally anxious to tell the new-comers what _she_ knew of the matter.

As it was the first strike for many years, the townspeople looked upon it with a strange mingling of pride and fear. It was stirred up by an agitator called Mars, and had broken out simultaneously in other ports too. More _gendarmes_ were sent for in case of need, though Mademoiselle Loire said it was hoped matters might be arranged amicably by a meeting between masters and men.

They were still discussing the subject, when a loud shouting was heard, and they all ran to a disused bedroom in the front of the house and looked out.

A crowd of men, marching in fours, were coming up the street, led by one beating a drum, and another carrying a dirty banner with ”Liberte, Equalite, Fraternite” upon it. Barbara's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she felt almost as if she were back in the times of the Revolution, for they looked rather a fierce and vicious crew.

”They are some of the strikers,” Mademoiselle Therese cried. ”We must withdraw our heads from the windows in case the men get annoyed with us for staring.” But she promptly leaned still farther out, and began making loud remarks to her sister, on the disgracefulness of such behaviour.

”You will be heard,” Mademoiselle Loire returned, shaking her head at her sister. ”You are a silly woman to say such things so loudly when the strikers are marching beneath.”

But the remonstrance had no effect, and the sight of all the other windows in the street full of spectators encouraged and inspired Mademoiselle Therese, and made her long for fame and glory.

”It is ridiculous of the mayor to allow such things,” she said loudly, with an evident desire to be heard. ”The men should be sharply dealt with, and sent back to their work.”

The result of her words was unexpected; for several of the crowd, annoyed at the little serious attention they had hitherto received, and worked up to considerable excitement, by the shouting and drumming began to pick up stones and fling them at the house. At first they were merely thrown _against_ the house, then, the spirit of mischief increasing, they were sent with better aim, and one crashed through the window above Mademoiselle Therese's head.

”We shall all be killed!” shrieked her sister, ”and just because of your meddling ways, Therese.” But she called to deaf ears, for now Mademoiselle Therese, enjoying notoriety, kept popping her head in and out of the window, dodging the stones and shouting out threats and menaces, which were returned by the crowd, till at last Mademoiselle Loire cried out pitifully that some one must go and fetch the widower.

”One man even might be a protection,” she moaned, though how, and whether against her sister or the strikers, did not seem very clear to Barbara. But as that seemed to be Mademoiselle Loire's one idea, and as Marie and the maid-servants were all crying in a corner, she thought she had better fetch him. Running downstairs and across the garden, she climbed over the wall by the wood pile, and boldly knocked at the widower's back door, thereby frightening him not a little. He came very cautiously along the pa.s.sage, and inquired in rather shaky tones who was there.

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