was
addressed with the warning, 'Socialists! Unite!'

"The government has reason to fear socialism, not anarchy, for it
will never happen in France, where the passion for individual property
is so general, that a doctrine of brutal destruction could have the
slightest chance of success.

"But wait, here is the point, Monsieur Buckhurst. Formerly the name
of 'terrorist' was a shock to the entire civilized world; it evoked
the spectres of a year that the world can never forget. And so our
modern reformers, modestly desiring to evade the inconveniences of
such memories among the people, call themselves the 'Internationale.'
Listen to them; they are adroit, they blame and rebuke violence, they
condemn anarchy, they would not lay their hands on public or
individual property--no, indeed!

"Ah, madame, but you should hear them in their own clubs, where the
ladies and gentlemen of the gutters, the barriers, and the abattoirs
discuss 'individual property,' 'the tyranny of capital,' and similar
subjects which no doubt they are peculiarly fitted to discuss.

"Believe me, madame, the little coterie which you represent is
already the dupe and victim of this terrible Internationale. Their
leaders work their will through you; a vast conspiracy against all
social peace is spread through your honest works of mercy. The time
is coming when the whole world will rise to combat this
Internationale; and when the mask is dragged from its benignant
visage, there, grinning behind, will appear the same old 'Spectre
Rouge,' torch in one hand, gun in the other, squatting behind a
barricade of paving-blocks."

I wagged my head dolefully.

"I could not have rested had I not warned Mr. Buckhurst of this," I
said, sentimentally.

Which was fairly well done, considering that I was figuratively
lamenting over the innocence of the most accomplished scoundrel that
ever sat in the supreme council of the Internationale.

Buckhurst looked thoughtfully at the floor.

"If I thought," he murmured--"if I believed for one instant--"

"Believe me, my dear sir," I said, "that you are playing into the
hands of the wickedest villains on earth!"

"Your earnestness almost converts me," he said, lifting his stealthy
eyes.

The Countess appeared weary and perplexed.

"At all events," she said, "we must do nothing to embarrass France
now; we must do nothing until this frightful war is ended."

After a silence Buckhurst said, "But you will go to Paradis