e manner of the times, when suddenly Lamartine appeared
on the scene with Ledru-Rollin and a captain in the artillery. The
following dialogue then took place:

"Who are you?"

"A member of the Provisional Government."

"Of the Government of yesterday or of to-day?"

"Of the one of to-day."

"In that case I arrest you."

Barbes was taken to Vincennes. He had been free rather less than
three months, when he returned to prison as though it were his natural
dwelling-place.

George Sand admired him just as much after this as before. For her, the
great man of the Revolution was neither Ledru-Rollin, Lamartine, nor
even Louis-Blanc; it was Barbes. She compared him to Joan of Arc and to
Robespierre. To her, he was much more than a mere statesman, this man of
conspiracies and dungeons, ever mysterious and unfortunate, always
ready for a drama or a romance. In her heart she kept an altar for this
martyr, and never thought of wondering whether, after all, this idol and
hero were not a mere puppet.

The skirmish of May 15 undeceived George Sand very considerably. The
June insurrection and the civil war, with blood flowing in the Paris
streets, those streets which were formerly so lively and amusing, caused
her terrible grief. From henceforth her letters were full of her sadness
and discouragement. The most gloomy depression took the place of her
former enthusiasm. It had only required a few weeks for this change to
take place. In February she had been so proud of France, and now she
felt that she was to be pitied for being a Frenchwoman. It was all
so sad, and she was so ashamed. There was no one to count upon now.
Lamartine was a chatterer; Ledru-Rollin was like a woman; the people
were ignorant and ungrateful, so that the mission of literary people was
over. She therefore took refuge in fiction, and buried herself in her
dreams of art. We are not sorry to follow her there.

_Francois le Champi_ appeared as a serial in the _Journal des Debats_.
The _denouement_ was delayed by another _denouement_, which the public
found still more interesting. This was nothing less than the catastrophe
of the July Monarchy, in February, 1848.

After the terrible June troubles, George Sand had been heartbroken, and
had turned once more to literature for consolation. She wrote _La Petite
Fadette_, so that the pastoral romances and the Revolution are closely
connected with each other. Beside the novels of this kind which we have
already