A Comedy of Terrors

XII.

IN PARIS.

THAT certain persons who had every reason to avoid one another, and who were actually in one sense running away from each other, should all find themselves on board the same ship, was certainly a strange coincidence. Under such circumstances, a meeting was of course inevitable ; and hence they stumbled upon one another unexpectedly yet naturally enough, in the manner already described, and in a way more embarrassing than agreeable.

After this last meeting between Mrs. Lovell and Mr. Grimes, the weather continued stormy for some days. Maud remained below, partly on account of the weather, and partly for other reasons. The sight of Carrol had produced upon her a new dejection of mind, and his persistent aversion not only wounded but astonished her. In the narrow limits of a ship, while he was so near, it was not very easy to banish his image from her mind ; and in spite of the appeals which she constantly made to her pride, the melancholy that arose from wounded affection was too strong to be overcome. Mrs. Lovell, however, was subject to no such weakness; and while Maud moped in her state-room, she sought as usual the breezier atmosphere of the upper deck, where she would sit gazing forth upon the dark heaving sea, looking upward into the unfathomable depths of ether, and generally feeding her soul with thoughts of the Infinite and all that sort of thing; for as a matter of course, when a pretty woman chooses to sit alone gazing into space, the kindest conjecture which one may make about her thoughts is the above ; all of which is respectfully submitted.

The result of Mrs. Lovell’s profound speculations while thus sitting and gazing into space was not, however, of that elevated and transcendental character which may be fairly considered as the natural outcome of the Infinite. On the contrary, it generally had reference to the finite, the concrete, the visible, and the tangible, in short, to Mr. Grimes.

“ He is a failure,” she would say, very confidentially, to Maud, after a return from her meditations on deck, — “a total failure. And, Maudie, whenever you choose a friend, do not allow yourself to dwell too much upon him. For you see,” Mrs. Lovell would continue, as Maud made no answer, speaking all the time in an abstracted tone, — “you see, Mr. Grimes is so very set, so obstinate, and so perfectly unreasonable. He is altogether too consistent, and he knows nothing whatever of the true spirit of chivalry.”

“ Chivalry ! ” exclaimed Maud, on one occasion, “ what possible connection can there be between chivalry and a — a person like that.”

“ Chivalry ! ” said Mrs. Lovell, with some warmth ; “ I would have you know, Maudie, that Mr. Grimes is as perfectly chivalrous a man as ever lived. Why, only think how he rushed to help me when I was really almost on the point of being swept overboard ! Positively be almost saved my life. And you have so little affection for me, that you sneer at him for that, — for saving my life, — for that is really what he did. Why, Maudie,” continued Mrs. Lovell, solemnly, “I do believe you ’re made of stone, — I do really.”

To this Maud made no reply, and Mrs. Lovell, after waiting for a moment, found her thoughts reverting to their former channel and went on: “Of course, he’s chivalrous and all that, as I said, but then he’s so provoking. He’s so fickle, you know, and changeable. Put that’s the way with men always. They never know their own minds. As for Mr. Grimes, he’s so absurdly backward and diffident, that I really wonder how he manages to live. O, he would never do ! And really, Maudie, do you know, I’ve come to the conclusion that Mr. Grimes is a gigantic failure.”

To this Maud made no reply, and Mrs. Lovell gradually wandered off to other subjects.

So the voyage passed away, and neither Mrs. Lovell nor Maud saw anything more of either Grimes or Carrol.

It was near the end of August when they arrived at Havre. Here they took the cars for Paris.

On reaching her destination, Mrs. Lovell drove at once to a place where she had lodged during a previous visit, some three or four years before, and where she expected to find a home during her stay in Paris. She was not disappointed. The house was under the management of a lady who was still at her post, and Madame Guimarin received her former lodger with a mixture of courtesy and enthusiasm that was at once impressive and seductive. To Mrs. Lovell’s great joy, she found not only that there were vacant apartments, but that the best rooms in the house, in fact, all the rooms in the house, were entirely at her service. She had only to make her own selection. That selection Mrs. Lovell did accordingly make ; and she chose the rooms which had become in a certain sense hallowed by the associations of her former visit, in which rooms she might find not so much a lodging as a home.

Such a reception was most unexpected and most delightful to Mrs. Lovell, who could not but wonder at her good fortune. She told Maud about her previous visit, when it was difficult to get a lodging-place at all, and when the landlady seemed to be granting a favor on admitting her. Nowall was changed, and the demeanor of Madame Guimarin seemed to show that the favor was all on Mrs. Lovell’s side. The change was wonderful; but what the cause of that change might be, Mrs. Lovell did not stop to consider. She simply settled herself down under the hospitable care of Madame Guimarin, without seeking to know what might be the reason of such cordial and unwonted hospitality.

On reaching Havre, Grimes and Carrol had landed in such an unobtrusive way that they had not been seen by the ladies. At the same time they had no idea of stopping at Havre, and had accordingly started by the very first train for Paris. This was the same train which the ladies had taken, but in the confusion they had not been noticed. And so it was that they reached Paris at the same time, without either party being aware of the proceedings of the other. Nor was it difficult to elude observation, for at every station on the road there were too many objects to attract the attention and engross it. At every station there seemed to be a general haste and uproar which seemed like the wildest confusion, — a gathering of great crowds, and a Babel of many tongues. The train itself seemed an object of interest to many ; and as the passengers stared out of the windows, the crowds at the station stared back. The train was a long one at starting, but it received constant additions as it went on, chiefly of a military character, until at length when it arrived at Paris the crowd that poured forth was immense.

In flying to Paris as his city of refuge, Carrol had relied upon two things : the first being the natural safety which any one would have in a city which is the common resort of fugitives from all parts of the world ; and the second additional security which an obscure person like himself would have amid the exciting events of a great war.

Now no sooner had he reached Paris and taken one look around, than he found the war at its height, and the nation in the crisis of its great agony. His own affairs had thus far attracted all his thoughts, so that he had none to spare for the struggle between France and Prussia ; but now that he had arrived here, he found himself in the presence of a nation to whose heart a mighty pang of anguish had been flung, in comparison with which his own sorrows were the mere evils of a day.

For this was the beginning of September. The first blows of the war had been struck. France had been defeated and dishonored, and the Prussians were far in the land. Paris was in a state of siege. The armies of France were scattered ; the Emperor was wandering about, no one knew where and no one cared. A frantic Ministry was trying to buoy up the hopes of a frantic people by inflated lies. The information which they gave was suspected by all ; yet every one tried to force himself to believe it, and every one spoke confidently of the approaching vengeance of France, when she should clothe herself in consuming terror and in her fiery indignation devour the adversary.

Paris was in a state of siege, and preparations were being made by the authorities which showed that to them at least the approach of an enemy did not seem impossible. The environs were devastated ; the forts prepared ; the bridges blown up ; the trees cut down ; but this belt of desolation was not visible to the crowds inside the city, and the change was chiefly manifest to those who found themselves cut off from their usual recreation in the Bois de Boulogne.

But to the people who were thus surrounded by this ring of desolation and defence, it was as though these things were not; and the crowds in the streets spoke all day long of nothing but victory and vengeance. Every one had his own theory as to the movements of the French armies. Whether Bazaine’s strategy or that of McMahon were the more profound, was a keenly disputed point. So profound was the strategy of each, however, that every one seemed to lose himself in a bottomless abyss whenever he ventured to discuss it. Still the confidence in their hearts was certainly not equal to that which their lips professed, as might easily be seen by the wild rumors that arose from time to time, the tales of sudden disaster, the tidings of fresh defeats, the panic fear that sometimes flashed simultaneously through vast multitudes, blanching their cheeks and stilling to awful silence the uproar of the people, —

Still, these panics, though they were quick to rise, were equally quick to subside; and after each sensation of this sort, the volatile people roused themselves anew to hope and to confidence. And the uproar sounded forth again, and the song arose, and the battle hymn, and the shout, and vengeance was once more denounced upon all the enemies of France.

Everybody was in uniform. There were the citizens who were National Guards. There were the peasants brought in from the country as Moblots. There were the marines, and sailors from the fleet. There were also the members of the ambulance corps, who served to remind the ardent citizen of the darker side of war.

The crowd that had been at the station when Carrol arrived had been immense, but not any larger than usual. For now there was always a great crowd there and at every railway station. There were those who were pouring into the city at the order of the government, soldiers for the field of battle, and peasants flying here from their deserted fields for refuge. There was also another crowd, consisting of those who were desirous of escaping from the city ; many of whom were foreigners, but many more of whom were the wives and children of citizens, sent away so as to be out of the reach of that siege which was already anticipated by the citizens, in spite of their confident boasts.

In all these scenes, in the excitement of alternating hope and fear that forever reigned in the thronged streets, and in the perpetual presence of one dominating and all - pervading idea, Carrol found that distraction of soul which formed the surest relief to his anxiety and remorse. He had so long brooded over his own griefs, that the presence of some engrossing subject outside of himself produced upon him an unmixed benefit. Grimes saw this with great gratification, and declared that Paris was the very place for Carrol.

He also asserted that Paris was the very place for himself. The excitement communicated itself to all of his sympathetic nature. He glowed under it; he revelled in it; he lived in the streets. He flung himself into the life of the people, and shared all their alternations of feeling. His opinion about the fortunes of the war, however, was certainly a little different from that of the average Parisian.

“ The Prussian invasion,” said he, “is a wholesome thing. It’s good. King William is a fine man. So is the average Prussian. The French are too frivolous. Life can’t be got to be made up out of nonsense. You can’t do it. The French have got hold of somethin’ serious at last, and, mark my words, it’ll do ’em good.”

But the day soon came which put a stop to all hope of victory, and in an instant dissipated the vast mass of lying rumors with which the atmosphere of Paris was filled. It was the day of Sedan. The tremendous intelligence could not be concealed or mitigated. It was a revelation of the whole of that black and dismal truth against which the people had shut their eyes. Down to the very last moment they sustained themselves with wild fictions, and then that last moment came and all was known.

Then all Paris rose. Away went the government in flight. The Empress Regent disappeared. The Republic was proclaimed. Down came the Imperial cipher and the Imperial effigy, and every Imperial symbol from every public place ; while in their place appeared the words which the Empire had obliterated eighteen years before, “ Liberte, Fraternite, Egalité.” And the old Republican leaders came forth and volunteered to become the leaders of the nation ; old men came back from exile ; and the irreconcilables seated themselves upon the throne of their fallen enemy.

Then too the panic, which thus far had been fitful and intermittent, spread itself broadly over the city, till it took possession of every heart. The terror for a time drove out every other feeling. Those who could fly did so as hastily as possible. The peasantry came pouring in from the country in greater numbers. The railroads were taxed to their utmost possible capacity ; for now it was known that the Conquering Prussians would soon arrive, and then what escape would there be ?

But the panic could not last, and did not. Like other sensations, it had its day, and passed ; and the new sensation which succeeded it was one universal enthusiasm over the Republic, combined with boundless confidence in the ability of the Republic to atone for the disgraces of the Empire, and to avenge them. The enthusiasm was also for a time accompanied by a pleasing hope that the Prussians would be satisfied with the fall of Napoleon, and come to easy terms with regenerated France ; nor was it possible to quell this hope, until they had been very rudely disillusioned.

All these new and startling events only served to increase the effect which Parisian life had produced upon Carrol ; and in the excitement that never ceased to be kindled all around him, he found an occupation for his mind that was always new and varied. In the overturn of the government he also found the assurance of greater safety for himself; for with the revolution the old machinery would become a little disarranged, and the French police would necessarily be changed or modified, so that the chances for his escape from capture were greatly increased. His haunting dread of pursuit and arrest was now very much lessened, and a sense of comparative security came to him.

Grimes and Carrol generally separated for the day. Each made it his sole occupation to saunter about the public places, taking part in the general excitements and sharing in the sensations that from time to time might arise ; but each preferred to go alone, and follow the bent of his own inclinations. On one such occasion Carrol was slowly sauntering down the Champs Elysees, looking dreamily around upon the scene, when suddenly he caught sight of something which gave him a greater shock than any that he had felt since his arrival. It was a carriage which was rolling along among many other carriages. In it were two ladies, and in the first glance that he gave he recognized Maud and Mrs. Lovell. In an instant they had rolled by, and he was left standing there, filled with amazement.

Ever since his arrival at Paris he had thought of Maud as being far away. On board of the steamer he had supposed that she was on her way to this city, but after his arrival he had taken it for granted that the perilous situation of the city would of course deter the ladies from coming to it at such a time, and that their most natural course would be to go to their friends in England. Yet now he found them actually here, and saw that they must have come at once to the place. He saw that they were still remaining, and that, too, after the great events that had occurred ; after Sedan ; after the Republic ; at the very time when the minds of all were becoming familiar with the grim prospect of a siege. What this could possibly mean became a problem which occupied his thoughts all the remainder of that day, without his attaining to any satisfactory solution. Could they be aware of the facts of their situation ? Of course they must be. What then could make them remain ? He could not imagine.

In the evening he mentioned the subject to Grimes. As this was the first time that Carrol had volunteered to talk upon any subject, Grimes regarded this as a very favorable sign, and felt highly gratified.

“ See here,’' said Carrol, “ did you know they are here ? ”

“ They ? Who ’s ‘ they ’ ? ” asked Grimes.

“ Why, the ladies.”

“ The ladies ? O yes. I knew that. I saw them myself the other day.”

“ You saw them ! Why, you did n't say anything about it. I should think you would have mentioned it.”

“ O no,” said Grimes, coolly. “ I did n’t seem to see any necessity for mentioning it to you. I knew that it was an exciting topic, and that if I introduced the subject you ’dat once proceed to flare up. You see you always pitch into Miss Heathcote so infernally strong, that I can’t stand it. She’s a person that I can’t help respectin’ somehow, in spite of your tall talk. Mark my words, there’s a mistake somewhere.”

Carrol’s face flushed at these last words, and he stared sternly at Grimes ; but as the other looked away quite indifferently, he said nothing for a few moments. At last he remarked in a low thoughtful voice, “ It’s queer, too, — confoundedly queer.”

“What ’s confoundedly queer?” asked Grimes.

“ Why, that they should stay.”

“ Queer ? Why, what is there queer about that ? ”

“ What, don’t you think it’s queer for two ladies to come to a city’ in such a row as this, and stay here through a regular revolution, when the enemy is approaching, and the siege may begin at any time ? ”

“ Queer ? ” cried Grimes. " Why, I should think it most infernally queer if they didn't stay. This is the very time to be in Paris. Queer ? Why, what makes us stay here, and what could induce either you or me to leave this place now and go away ? ”

“ Pooh ! Why, there’s all the difference in the world. They ’re women.”

“ Women ! and what then ? Ain’t women human beings ? I think so. You’ll not deny that, I suppose. Yea, more. Have n’t women got curiosity ? Some. Have n’t they got a slight tendency to excitement ? Methinks, Don’t they occasionally get their feelings roused and grow enthusiastic ? Rather. Now, for my part, I imagine that Mrs. Lovell and Miss Heathcote find just as much fun in these proceeding and in the general row that’s goin’ on as either you or I. Yea, more. I don’t believe any earthly indoocement would make them leave. Stay ? Why, everybody ought to stay. Everybody ought to come here. Now’s the time to visit Paris. There has n’t been such a time since the downfall of ancient Rome, and there won’t be such another occasion for ever so many hundred years. Mrs. Lovell leave ? What! And now ? And after takin’ all the trouble to come here ? No, sir. Not she. Not if she knows it. I ’ll bet on her. I tell you what, that woman’s bound to see this thing put through.”

“ O, come now, really now,” said Carrol, “you don’t suppose that Mrs. Lovell is superior to all the usual weaknesses of woman. She is as timid as women generally are.”

“ I deny that women are timid,” said Grimes, solemnly.

“ O, if it comes to that, why, there’s nothing more to say.”

“ I deny that they ’re timid where their feelings are really concerned. You get a woman regularly excited, and she ’ll go through fire and water. She ’ll go wherever a man will.”

“ O, that’s all very well, in a few rare cases, when their affections are engaged, and they get half insane ; but there’s really nothing of the kind here, you know, and for my part I confess I ’m puzzled.”

“ Well, for my part,” said Grimes, “ I glory in it.”

“ There’s some mysterious motive,” said Carrol, “something under the surface.”

“ There’s nothing but pure, real, genuine pluck,” said Grimes. “She’s clear grit.”

Carrol shook his head suspiciously, and finding that Grimes would not help him to discover this supposed dark motive that actuated the ladies, he subsided into a somewhat sullen silence.

XIII.

AN UNEXPECTED CALL.

THE place in which Mrs. Lovell and Maud had taken up their quarters was somewhat remote from the busy centres of Parisian life, and if there was any change in the appearance of the city it was not generally visible. It was only when they went out for a drive that they saw the unusual animation and excitement of the streets, and even then the change did not seem so great as it actually was.

Upon Maud, Paris did not produce that exhilarating effect which it generally does on the new-comer. In fact, since her arrival she seemed to have sunk into deeper dejection. On board the steamer, as long as Carrol was near her, there was a kind of excitement in the idea of that neighborhood which acted as a stimulus to her mind, and was involuntarily associated with faint hopes of a reconciliation. But now he was gone, and her life became dull and dead. There was no longer any hope of reconciliation, nor any expectation of seeing him. She wondered whether he had come to Paris or not, but concluded that he had not. Why, indeed, should he ? His hatred of her was so bitter that his only motive would be to avoid her. True, he had followed her to the steamer, but she began to think now that this might have been an accident, and as the days passed by she gradually lost hope.

Mrs. Lovell saw this dejection, and remonstrated with Maud about it.

“ Why, really, Maudie,” she would say, “I thought you had more pride; after all, your condition is n’t as bad as mine. Look at me. Only think how I ’ve been deceived in Mr. Grimes. Now, I know very well that you ’re moping about that wretched Mr. Carrol, but it’s very weak in you. Be like me. Do as I do. Conquer your feelings, and be bold and brave and heroic.”

In the effort to assist Maud to become bold and brave and heroic, Mrs. Lovell urged her to drive out, and so they used to drive out nearly every day. During those drives, Maud’s mind was not much impressed with the striking scenes which the great city presented, but was rather occupied by one controlling idea that made her blind to the charm of Parisian life. As she drove through the streets and boulevards and looked out upon the crowds, the idea of Carrol never left her, and she was always searching after his face. She noticed nothing and thought of nothing in all her drives but this, and the noise and the tumult and all the busy preparations for war were disregarded.

But at length, as time passed on, this noise and tumult and these preparations for war grew to such proportions that they forced themselves upon her attention. She saw the doors and windows of the Louvre gradually closing up behind protective barricades. She saw those barricades arising around the statues and monuments of the city, and beautiful groves changing into fields of stumps. A drive to the Bois de Boulogne was sufficient at length to arouse the attention of the most preoccupied soul, and this drive did not fail to impress Maud.

“What can be the meaning of it?” she asked in surprise.

Mrs. Lovell confessed her inability to account for it.

“ Something must be going on.”

“ Perhaps the trees died, and had to be cut down,” suggested Mrs. Lovell ; “ und if so, what a pity ! They were so beautiful.”

“ O no, it must have something to do with the war. Is it possible that they can be preparing for a siege of Paris ? ”

“ A siege of Paris ! what utter nonsense ! How can there be a siege of Paris ? ”

“Why, this war may be unfortunate for the French.”

“ O, that ’s absurd ! The French made the war for political purposes. It’s all the Emperor, Maudie. He ’s a wonderful man. And it was only for political purposes. It’s just the same here as an election is with us.”

“ I wish I 'd seen some of the papers. Have you seen any, Georgie ? ”

“ The papers ? O dear, no ! I never read the papers.”

“ I remember,” said Maud, thoughtfully, “ I saw a paper the other day and read a little in it. I did n’t take much interest in it at the time, but I remember now that something was said about some defeats of the French, and that the defeats would be made good.”

“ Defeats ? Of the French ? O, nonsense ! The Prussians, you mean ? ”

“O no! I mean the French. Something of that sort must have happened. And now, when I think of it, the paper certainly spoke of the Prussians being in France, — for it said that none of them should ever escape.”

“The Prussians in France?” said Mrs. Lovell, thoughtfully. “ Well, really, Maudie, that is better than I expected. How very nice that would be, if it were really so. Why, we would have a chance to see a battle, perhaps, who knows ? Why, do you know, Maudie, the greatest desire of my life has always been to see a battle. I think I 'd go miles to see one. Yes, miles. Why, if I really thought the Prussians were here, I think I 'd try to find out in what direction they were coming, and engage rooms there to see the battle. That’s the way Byron did at the battle of Waterloo, and he wrote such a lovely poem ; not that I could write a poem, but then, really, Maudie, I sometimes think, do you know, that I have the soul of a poet.”

Maud did not seem to be listening. An anxious expression was on her face.

“ It’s horrible,” she exclaimed, — “it’s too horrible.”

“ Horrible ! What’s horrible ? ”

“Why, if the Prussians should really be coming to Paris.”

“ Nonsense.”

“ Well, I really begin to think that there must be some danger of it. The more I think of it the more certain I feel. The papers spoke so very strangely.”

“ The papers ! But, Maudie, I hope you don’t think anything of what the papers say. They ’re always saying all sorts of things, you know. For my part, I never believe anything that the papers say, and I never read them.”

“ But look at all these preparations. Don’t they look as though the people here expected a siege or something ? ”

“ My dear Maudie,” said Mrs. Lovell, confidently, “ the people, as you call them, have nothing whatever to do with these preparations. It’s all the Emperor. He does it for effect. He has some deep-laid plan. He’s always contriving something or other to excite the Parisians. The Parisians need some excitement. Now the Emperor sees that they are tired to death of fetes and shows and splendor, so he is defacing the statues, putting up barricades, and chopping down the trees to create a grand sensation. He intends to make himself very popular by all this. He is getting up the pretence of a siege, and then he will come and pretend to save Paris. Something of that sort is his intention I know. That’s the way he always does, you know, and that’s the only way he can manage to retain his power over such an extraordinary people as the Parisians.”

To this somewhat singular theory Maud had no objections to make, and Mrs. Lovell, finding the course clear before her, expatiated upon this theme till they returned.

Not long after reaching the house, a gentleman called. He did not give his name, but as this was the only caller they had thus far known, both of the ladies were filled with an excitement which, under the circumstances, was not at all unnatural. At first, Maud thought of Carrol ; but a little reflection showed her that such a thing could scarcely be ; and so she checked at once that rush of eager emotion which was hurrying her away to greet the caller, and experienced such a reaction of feeling that she resolved not to go down at all. But with Mrs. Lovell the excitement was unalloyed, and there was nothing to disturb the pleasing expectation that filled her mind.

“ So you won’t come, Maudie,” she said, as she was leaving the room. “ Well, perhaps you’d better not. You never could bear him, you were always so prejudiced ; though, for my part, I really think that you do injustice to Mr. ' Grimes’s many admirable qualities.”

There was a sweet smile on Mrs. Lovell’s face as she entered the room, and her face had an expression of quiet yet cordial welcome as she looked toward the caller. But the moment that she caught sight of the caller, a complete change came over her ; the smile died away ; the look of cordial welcome vanished ; and there remained only a look of cold surprise. For the person before her was not Grimes at all.

He was a sharp-featured man, and was dressed in the uniform of the National Guard, which, however, did not give him, by any means, the air of the true professional militaire. On the contrary, his clothes were a little illfitting, and he showed some uneasiness about his sword. As Mrs. Lovell entered, he sprang toward her with much animation and an air of the greatest empressement.

“ Madame,” said he, “ I am mos happy zat I haf ze honneur to salute you.”

And with these words he held out both hands. Mrs. Lovell, however, did not at all reciprocate this ardor. On the contrary, she regarded him coolly, taking no notice whatever of his hands, and then gave a stiffish bow. She said nothing, nor did she offer him a chair, or show him any civility whatever. Now, if it was her disappointment about Mr. Grimes that elicited such rudeness from such a gracious lady, then her disappointment must have been very bitter to her ; but if it was merely her dislike to Du Potiron himself that animated her, then her dislike was wonderfully strong to be felt by such a kind-hearted and gentle-mannered person.

But Du Potiron did not notice this, or, if he did, he quite ignored it. On the contrary, he proceeded to go through a series of complicated movements, which seemed to show that monsieur was less a gentleman than a dancing-master. First he put his right hand on his heart, then he made a great sweep of his hat with his left hand, and then he bowed so low that he went quite beneath the line of Mrs. Lovell’s vision. After which he raised himself, still keeping his hand on his heart, and made another flourish with his hat.

“ Madame,” said he, “pardon me, but I sail haf to apologize zat I haf not pay my respects before.”

“ O, apologies are quite unnecessary! ” said Mrs. Lovell, quickly. “ I did not expect it at all, I assure you.”

“ Ze raison haf been,” continued Du Potiron, “ I haf not been able to find ze place unteel zees moment. Mais a present, I sail be mos happay.”

Mrs. Lovell made no remark at this, but still stood regarding him with a cool and easy stare that would have been embarrassing to any one else.

“ Moreovaire, madame,” continued Du Potiron, “ I haf to offaire mes apologies zat I haf not ze honneur to pay mes respects to you on ze voyage, — mais voyez-vous, madame, cette malheureuse bouleversement et enfeeblement, cette je ne sais quoi du mal de mer haf quite all ze taime put him out of my powaire to saluter you. Hein ? Comprennez ? ”

“ Your remarks are totally unintelligible, monsieur,” said Mrs. Lovell, “ and I am still at a loss to understand the object of this visit.”

“ Moi,” said Du Potiron, “ I am Frenchman. Un Francais is nevaire noting in ze sea, but in ze land he become heemself. Mais vous, madame, I haf ze hope sincerement zat you haf had ze voyage plaisant.”

“ Quite, thanks,” said Mrs. Lovell, whose patience was beginning to give way.

“ Et a present,” continued the unterrified one, “ ees eet youair intention to haf a stay long ? ”

“ We have not decided.”

“Ah, you haf ze intention to leave soon, probablement.”

“ Not that I am aware of.”

“ Aha, zat is good, foine, brave, sage, noble, magnifique ! ” cried Du Potiron, in an enthusiastic outburst, which amazed Mrs. Lovell. “ Ma foi ! So you haf no fear. C’est charmant ; so you weel stay. Aha ? Bien,” he continued, suddenly subsiding from a tone of exultation to the manner of a dry logician,— “bien, for see you, madame, zaire ees no dang-jaire. Zees war sail go on, and la France moos be victorr. Ze Rdpublique Francaise ees invincible ! Eh bien. So you sall stay. Eh ? Ver well. Zen you sail see ze triomphe, ze exultation, ze enthousiasme irrepressible ! You sail see Guillaume a prisoner, a captif, and Moltke and Bismarck and all ze entire army Prussian — ”

All this was more unintelligible than ever to Mrs. Lovell ; and as her patience was now quite exhausted, she resolved to retire.

“ Excuse me,” said she, quietly, “ but, really, I know nothing of politics, and I have to go.”

“ Ah, mille pardons,” cried Du Potiron, hastily ; “ what, you go ! Ma foi. Mais, permettez-moi. Ah, I am distracte wit chagrin zat I haf not see ze mees charmante. Villa you haf ze favaire to kongvay to her ze mos tendaire — ”

“ I do not understand you,” said Mrs. Lovell, in a more frigid tone than ever.

“ Ze mees — ze mees — ”

“ The what ? ”

“ Ze charmante mees.”

“ This is quite unintelligible,” said Mrs. Lovell.

“ Mees Mo,” persisted Du Potiron, eagerly, “ cette charmante Mo.”

“Mo, — Mo?” repeated Mrs. Lovell, in a puzzle.

“ Yaiss — Mees Mo — Deetcot — ”

“ Miss Maud Heathcote,” repeated Mrs. Lovell, who at length made out the name. “ What of her, pray ? ”

“ Oui, oui,” cried Du Potiron, eagerly, “ le Mees Mo Deetcot; I beg you to kongvay to cette charmante Mo ze assurance of my esteem ze mos distingud, and my affection ze mos tendaire.”

At this Mrs. Lovell’s face flushed with indignation. She looked at him for a moment as though preparing some severe rejoinder, but finally seemed to think better of it, and then turning without a word or even a nod she left the room.

At this inexcusable rudeness, Monsieur du Potiron stood for a moment staring after her. Then he shook his fist at the door through which she had retreated. Then he painfully gathered up his sword, and in as graceful a manner as possible left the house.

Great was Maud’s surprise at hearing from Mrs. Lovell who the caller had been. Great also was her amazement at Du Potiron’s impudence in still hinting at the mistaken acceptance by claiming her in that way ; and the contempt which she expressed was limitless and immeasurable. But in the midst of all this the thought occurred to her that possibly Du Potiron might not have received the explanatory letter which she had sent, and might still consider her in all seriousness as his fiancee. She mentioned this to Mrs. Lovell, but that lady did not deign to consider the matter.

“ What possible difference can it make, Maudie,” said she, “ what that person thinks ? He will never come in our way. You know I always disapproved of your explanations, and certainly I should not like you to commit yourself to any more.”

In spite of this, Maud was somewhat troubled as to certain puzzling things which Du Potiron’s visit had suggested.

On the following day they were out driving when an incident occurred which had the effect of giving a deeper meaning to Du Potiron’s call than before, and of increasing those puzzling questions to which his visit had given rise. This was that incident before referred to, — their meeting with Carrol. The surprise was as great to Maud as to him, and so was the embarrassment. Neither one knew that the other was in Paris. Carrol had supposed that the ladies had some time ago fled from this place of danger ; and Maud had not supposed that Carrol had come to Paris at all. But now each one knew that the other was here in this city, within reach and within call.

But their discovery of one another’s proximity created very different feelings in each. The effect produced upon Carrol has been mentioned. But upon Maud this discovery had a different result. It at once gave a new meaning to the visit of Du Potiron. One thing from that visit was evident, and it was this, that he still regarded her as his fiancée. The only conclusion that she could draw from that was that he had not received her letter of explanation. And if that were so, it now seemed equally probable that Carrol had not received the letter which she had sent to him. The very thought of this agitated her most profoundly, and gave rise to a thousand wild plans of finding him out even now, and of learning for herself in a personal interview what Carrol’s sentiments really were.

The greatest puzzle of all was in the voyage. They had all come over together. Carrol, as she thought, had evidently followed her, from what motive she could not imagine. He now seemed to have followed her even to Paris. Du Potiron had come too, and it now appeared as if the Frenchman had come with the purpose of urging his claims upon her. She now began to think it possible that from some cause or other her explanatory letters had not reached either of them, but that both had crossed the ocean under a totally wrong impression. This would account, as she thought, for Du Potiron’s pursuit, and for Carrol’s inflexible wrath. While thinking of these things she could not help wondering whether they had met or not on board the steamer ; but a moment’s reflection showed her that they could only regard one another as enemies, and that each would avoid any intercourse with the other. It was therefore clearly impossible that they could have had any explanation.

These ideas created the most intense excitement in the mind of Maud. It was a misunderstanding which could so easily be cleared up. Carrol was only laboring under a delusion. If she could only see him, how quickly she could explain. So now the question of her life became how to see him. Should she write ? But she did n’t know his address. It seemed better to wait, and keep a constant outlook so as to secure a personal interview.

Meantime she kept her thoughts and resolutions to herself, for Mrs. Lovell’s want of sympathy with Carrol prevented her from being of any service in securing Maud’s desires.

XIV.

AN AGGRESSIVE CALL.

AT length the long-expected event took place. The last effort to avert it had failed. The Prussians were approaching and the siege was at hand. The preparations for that siege had reached their last stage and their climax. The full measure of the coming trial might be seen in the vast accumulations of provisions, the immense heaps of grain, and the countless herds of cattle. The flight of the people became more desperate ; the influx of the peasantry also reached its height. The overburdened cars carried away all who could go. The government departed. The foreign ambassadors departed, leaving Minister Washburne atone to face the situation. At length the last railroad was intercepted, the last telegraphic wire cut, and Paris lay shut out from the world.

In the mean time Mrs. Lovell and Maud had been living in the same way, varying the quiet of their seclusion by a daily drive. Maud did not again see Carrol in the streets, nor did Mrs. Lovell see Grimes anywhere. Their attention was occasionally arrested by some new construction bearing upon the defence of the city, or by the march of some larger body of troops than usual; but these things did not excite any very deep interest. Mrs. Lovell’s opinion as to the state of affairs in Paris, and the perfect safety of that city, she had already given, nor had she changed it ; and Maud’s one engrossing thought was the discovery of Carrol among the crowds that thronged the streets. And so it was that Paris was shut up at last, without the actual fact being even suspected by either of the ladies.

One day, after they had returned from a drive, a caller was announced. This time their thoughts at once turned to Du Potiron, and they sent word that they were not at home. Upon this the caller, who had not sent up his name before, sent in his card. With some curiosity they examined it. It was simply, M. le Comte du Potiron.

“ His impertinence is certainly engaging,” remarked Mrs. Lovell, quietly, “ but what he can possibly expect to gain by it I cannot imagine.”

With this she sent back word that she was engaged.

But the irrepressible Du Potiron was not to be so easily shaken off. He at once sent back a most urgent request for an interview, — just for a little moment,— it was about matters of great importance.

At this persistence Mrs. Lovell was quite annoyed, but at the same time the message which he sent was adapted to excite a little curiosity, so she checked the reply which she was on the point of sending, and decided on seeing for herself what he wanted.

“ I shall see what he wants,” she said, “ and I must at the same time put a stop to his silly persistency in visiting us. I never liked him. I simply tolerated him at Montreal ; but here I don’t wish to recognize him.”

With these words Mrs. Lovell went down. Du Potiron was waiting there, dressed in the uniform of the National Guard, as on the last occasion. He advanced as before with outstretched hands, and with an enthusiastic smile, just as if he and Mrs. Lovell were warm and intimate friends ; just as if their last meeting had been perfectly delightful to each of them, and this one was to be the same.

Mrs. Lovell’s cool demeanor, however, had the effect of checking his advance, and, as before, he stopped and bowed very elaborately.

“ Allow me to haf ze honneur to saluter you, madame, an to expresser ze gratification eet geets me to fin you here. Eet ees an epoch in ze histoire of ze race humaine.”

“ Will you be kind enough to inform me to what I am indebted for this visit ? ” asked Mrs. Lovell. “ You stated that you had something of importance to speak of.”

“ Ah — bien — bon — oui — vrai,” replied Du Potiron, rapidly. “ One moment. I mus congratuler you on your courage. Eet ees sublime, magnifique, colossal, enorme.”

“ I do not understand you,” said Mrs. Lovell, with some show of temper. “ You have something more to speak of than this.”

“ Eh bien. I wish, madame, to know eef I sal haf ze honneur of to see ze charmante Mo — ”

“ If you mean Miss Heathcote, sir,” said Mrs. Lovell, loftily, “ I have to inform you that she declines seeing you.”

“ Quoi ! Grand ciel ! ” ejaculated Du Potiron. “ Declines ? Mo ! Moi ! Mo — la charmante Mo — declines. Madame, zat ees not possible.”

“ If you have nothing more to say,” said Mrs. Lovell, “ I shall now excuse myself.”

“ Mais ! ” cried Du Potiron. “ Mo ! — vain sail I see her? Mo — I vish to see Mo.”

“ You are not to see her at all,” said Mrs. Lovell, abruptly.

“ Mais, you meestake.”

“ Not at all. It is you who are mistaken. You do not appear to understand the ordinary usages of society.”

“ Moi ! Ma foi, madame, zees ees incomprehensible. I haf wait too long.

I can wait no more. I mus see her some time. She is mine.”

“ What do you mean by that ? ”

“She is mine, I say,” repeated Du Potiron in quick, energetic tones. “ She is my fiancée.”

“ Your fiancee ? What nonsense ! ” cried Mrs. Lovell. “ What do you mean ? You are not acquainted with her at all.”

“ Mais, madame, you meestake yourself. She is my fiancde. I haf propose at Montreal. She accept me. I haf ze lettre of acceptance. She write wit affection and empressement. She confess herself charme wit me, an I haf not seen her since. An so, madame, I now haf to wait for her appearance.”

“ Why, really, this is too absurd,” said Mrs. Lovell. “ I am aware that you proposed at Montreal when you really had no acquaintance with her, and she had none with you, and also that she declined your proposal.”

“ Decline ? No, no, no,” cried Du Potiron. “ She accept.”

“ Accept ? O, you allude to that first letter ! But that was a mistake ; she explained all that.”

“ First lettaire ? ” repeated Du Potiron ; “ meestake ? explain ? I not comprehend you, madame. I only know zis, zat ze charmante Mo haf accept me, an to prove eet I haf ze lettaire veech I kip by my heart toujoursVoilà!”

And with these words he unbuttoned the breast of his coat, and, inserting his hand into the inside pocket, he proceeded to draw forth a letter very solemnly and slowly. This letter he surveyed for a few moments with an air of pensive yet melodramatic devotion, after which he pressed it to his lips. Then he looked at Mrs. Lovell.

“ What letter is that ? ” asked Mrs. Lovell.

“ Ze lettaire of Mo, — she accept me. Do you doubt ? You sall read.”

“ O, you mean that first letter. But did n’t you get her other explanatory note ? ”

“ Explanation ? what explanation ? No, madame. Zis ees ze only lettaire I haf receif from ze charmante Mo. Zere ees notin to explain — ”

“ But that letter was all a mistake,” said Mrs. Lovell. “ It was never intended for you at all.”

Du Potiron smiled.

“ Ah, I see,” he said, “ zat ze charmante Mo haf deceif you, — a ruse. Aha ! Eh bien. I inform you now of ze fact.”

“ Pooh, it’s too absurd. Let me see that letter,” said Mrs. Lovell, advancing nearer. Du Potiron instinctively drew back his hand, as though he was afraid that she intended to snatch it away, but the action and the fear lasted for an instant only. Then he held out the letter with a polite bow and an air of great magnanimity.

Mrs. Lovell took the letter and read it carelessly. Then she looked at the opening words, and finally at the address on the envelope. After which she said, coolly : “It’s rather unfortunate that you never received Miss Heathcote’s other note. You left Montreal very suddenly, I think, or you would have certainly got it. The other letter was an explanation of this. For you know this is all an absurd mistake.”

“A meestake?” said Du Potiron, with an incredulous smile.

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Lovell. “ My sister explained it all. This was intended for another person.”

“ Ma foi, madame, you must see zat ees not possible.”

“ I will soon show you,” said Mrs. Lovell; and with these words she directed his attention to the opening words. These words, written in Maud’s angular hand, were made up out of letters that were wide-spread, with open loops, and not particularly legible. They were intended to be, “ My dear Mr. Carrol.” As Mrs. Lovell looked at them now, she saw that they might be read, “ My dear M. Count.”

“ What are those words ? ” asked Mrs. Lovell, pointing to them. “ What do you take them to be ? ”

Du Potiron looked at them for a moment, and then said, “ My dear Monsieur le Comte. ”

“ But it is n’t anything of the kind,” said Mrs. Lovell.

Du Potiron started, and looked at her uneasily.

“It’s My dear Mr. Carrol,” said Mrs. Lovell, “and you have been utterly mistaken.”

At the mention of this name Du Potiron started back and gave a hurried look around. His old look of easy self-sufficiency passed away altogether, and was succeeded by an air of trouble and apprehension.

“Carrol!” he repeated. “Am I to understand, madame, zat you say zees lettaire was intend for M. Carrol ? ”

“ Certainly ; you may see the name there for yourself,” said she.

Du Potiron looked at it earnestly for some time, and then looked at Mrs. Lovell.

“Eet ees not possible,” said he. “Zees lettaire was for me, and ze charmante Mo ees mine, an sall be mine. Zees Carrol haf notin to do wis her. Moi ! I am ze one she wrote ze lettaire. Bien ! an now, madame, I haf ze honneur to requess ze plaisir of to see ze charmante Mo.”

“ Very well, sir,” said Mrs. Lovell ; “ since you refuse to take my explanation, I can only inform you that Miss Heathcote has no acquaintance with you whatever, and will not see you at all.”

“ Mais, madame, I moos see her. I haf come to take her ondaire my protection.”

“ Your protection ! ” repeated Mrs. Lovell, in amazement at such prolonged and sustained impudence.

“ Oui, madame,” continued Du Potiron. “ Eet ees ver necessaire. You are hot in danger. Eet ees a time of peril. You haf allow yourself to remain here, and not know zat danger. You haf no protector, an eet ees necessaire for me to interpose to save you from ze enemy.”

“ Danger ! enemy ! How perfectly absurd ! ” said Mrs. Lovell.

“ Madame,” said Du Potiron, “you are in great danger. Paris is surrounde by ze Prusse. Ze siege haf begun. Ze bombardement moos commencer. Ze shells sail fall on zese houses, an zis cety sail become one grand fortification. Zees ees no place for ladies. You should haf fly before ; but since you remain, I mus protect you from ze danger zat you encounter.”

Mrs. Lovell was certainly startled at this, though she would not confess it.

“ Allow me to remark, sir,” said she, after a short pause, “ that, even if there should be any danger, which I utterly doubt, I should not put myself under your protection. I should be content with the protection of the government.”

“ Ze govairnement?” said Du Potiron ; “ but ze govairnement ees gone.”

“ Gone !”

“Yes, to Tours; to escape ze Prusse.”

“ This is absurd,” said Mrs. Lovell, in utter incredulity. “But even if it were true, what of that ? There is the British Ambassador.”

“ Ma foi ! ” cried Du Potiron. “ You seem to be ignorant of everytin, madame. Ees eet possible you don’t know zat ze British Ambassador haf run away from ze Prusse, an all ze oder ambassadors aussi ? ”

At this Mrs. Lovell broke down.

“Monsieur,” said she, stiffly, “all this is utterly preposterous. It is useless for me to prolong this interview. I can only say that, if these statements of yours are true, I shall soon find it out, and I shall know what to do, without requiring any assistance from you.”

And with these words Mrs. Lovell retired, leaving Du Potiron a prey to various conflicting feelings, prominent among which was a new interest in Maud’s letter, which he scrutinized for some time before he departed.

Mrs. Lovell did not go back to Maud at once. Du Potiron’s startling information had quite terrified her. She had not the faintest idea of the real state of things, and was fully conscious of her ignorance. Under the circumstances, her first impulse was to find out the truth ; and so she went at once to see Madame Guimarin.

She found the good madame very anxious and very agitated. As she heard Mrs. Lovell’s questions her agitation increased greatly, and it was some time before she could make any reply. She burst into tears, and sat sobbing convulsively. At last she was able to find words, and told Mrs. Lovell the whole truth. She informed her that her house had been empty for a long time, most of the boarders having fled in order to avoid the troubles that seemed to be ahead. She had received Mrs. Lovell most eagerly, seeing in these two boarders her last hope of escape from utter ruin. She had always put the best appearance upon things, and had never allowed any of the city papers to lie about. Mrs. Lovell would not have read them if she had seen them ; but she did not even see them. Maud had caught a glimpse of one or two old ones, but was not able to get at the truth. Thus Madame Guimarin had kept out of her house all indications of danger, and her two new boarders had remained. But the approach of the final catastrophe had overcome Madame Guimarin herself. She saw a long blockade, high prices, scant markets, shops closed, streetfights, mob rule, and a hundred other calamities. Now that she had begun to tell the truth, she poured it all forth without reserve, and Mrs. Lovell at length understood the fullest peril that the most imaginative mind could attach to her present situation.

In spite of the landlady’s dark picture, Mrs. Lovell was not without resources. “ I will send,” she thought, “ to Lord Lyons, and get a passport from him, so as to leave the city at once.” Upon this resolve she acted as soon as possible. On the return of her messenger she found, to her consternation, that Du Potiron’s information was correct, and that the British Ambassador had retired from the city. Thus far she had concealed it all from Maud ; but now it was neither judicious nor was it even possible to keep up any further concealment. So she told Maud all, and to her great delight Maud listened to the news without being overwhelmed or even dismayed.

“ Really, Maudie dear,” cried Mrs. Lovell, in a joyous tone, “this is very, very delightful, to find you take it so. I thought you ’d be so upset, that I was afraid to tell you. This is really nice of you, and I admire you no end for your bravery and courage and all that. And do you know, Maudie, for my part, I’m not half so afraid as I ought to be ; in fact, I don’t know but that I feel just a little bit of a kind of pleasant excitement in our situation. I ’ve always had quite a longing to be in Paris during a revolution. It must be so nice. Coup-d'états, you know, Maudie dear, and all that sort of thing. Such fun ! And then, do you know, Maudie, there’s another thing that really has a little to do, I think, with my feeling so very free from fear. Do you know, Maudie, I’ve an idea that poor dear old Mr. Grimes is wandering about these streets somewhere ; and, really, the very thought of that great big man gives me a sense of protection and security. Not, of course, that I think of him in any other way than as a possible assistant in case of an emergency, as a last resort; but then what’s the use,” continued Mrs. Lovell, plaintively,— “what’s the use of talking of him as a last resort, when I have n’t the faintest idea where I could find him in case of need ? ”

Maud had no reply to make to these remarks. Her mind was preoccupied, for she was wondering whether Carrol had fled with the rest, or whether he had remained behind to share the fortunes of the besieged city.

Fames DeMille.