go, now she is a quiet
little wife nursing a sick husband." Glancing at Minette he saw an angry
flush on her face, and a look of dogged determination; he made no
remark, however, and after chatting with Arnold for some time returned
to Passy.

"That woman will bring destruction on them both or I am mistaken," he
said to Mary; "fond as she may be of Dampierre, her enthusiasm for the
Commune will take her from his side when the last struggle begins. Do
you know, Mary, my presentiments about her have turned out marvellously
correct." He opened his sketch-book. "Look at that," he said; "at the
time I sketched it she was poised as a Spanish dancer, and had castanets
in her hand; the attitude is precisely that in which she stood as a
model, but it struck me at the moment that a knife would be more
appropriate to her than a castanet, and you see I drew her so, and that
is the precise attitude she stood in, dagger in hand, when I caught her
wrist and prevented her from stabbing the man at her feet."

"Don't show them to me, Cuthbert, it frightens me when you talk of her."

"You must remember that she is a mixture, Mary; she is like a panther,
as graceful, and as supple; a charming beast when it purrs and rubs
itself against the legs of its keeper, terrible when, in passion, it
hurls itself upon him. In the early days the students were, to a man,
fascinated with her. I stood quite alone in my disapproval. Seeing her
as I saw her to-day, I admit that she is charming, but I cannot forget
her fury as she bounded, knife in hand, upon the man I had knocked down.
Listen! do your hear that rattle of musketry down by Pont du Jour? The
troops must be working their way up towards the gate. Possibly, it is
the beginning of the end."

Presently a Communist, with a red sash, rode furiously past, and in a
quarter of an hour returned with a battalion of National Guards who had
been stationed near the Arc de Triomphe.

"Evidently, there is a some sharp business going on, Mary. It is hardly
likely the troops can be attacking at this time of day, they would be
sure to choose early morning, mass their forces under cover of darkness,
and go at the gate at daybreak; still, there is no doubt from that
musketry firing, they must be trying to establish themselves nearer the
gate than before."

The batteries that had all day been playing upon Pont du Jour, had
suddenly ceased firing, but the rattle of musketry in that direction
continued as hotly