Sometimes it occurred to her to confide in Maxence, who was laboring
with admirable constancy to redeem his past.

But what! must she, then, confess the truth,--confess that she,
Gilberte, had lent her ears to the words of a stranger, met by
chance in the street, and that she looked forward to no happiness
in life save through him? She dared not. She could not take upon
herself to overcome the shame of such a situation.

She was on the verge of despair, the day when the Signor Pulei
arrived radiant, exclaiming from the very threshold, "I have news!"

And at once, without surprise at the awful emotion of the girl,
which he attributed solely to the interest she felt for him,--him
Gismondo Pulei, he went on,--"I did not get them direct, but through
a respectable signor with long mustaches, and a red ribbon at his
buttonhole, who, having received a letter from my dear pupil, has
deigned to come to my room, and read it to me."

The worthy maestro had not forgotten a single word of that letter;
and it was almost literally that he repeated it.

Six weeks after having enlisted, his pupil had been promoted
corporal, then sergeant, then lieutenant. He had fought in all
the battles of the army of the Loire without receiving a scratch.
But at the battle of the Maus, whilst leading back his men, who
were giving way, he had been shot twice, full in the breast.
Carried dying into an ambulance, he had lingered three weeks
between life and death, having lost all consciousness of self.
Twenty-four hours after, he had recovered his senses; and he took
the first opportunity to recall himself to the affection of his
friends. All danger was over, he suffered scarcely any more; and
they promised him, that, within a month, he would be up, and able
to return to Paris.

For the first time in many weeks Mlle. Gilberte breathed freely.
But she would have been greatly surprised, had she been told that
a day was drawing near when she would bless those wounds which
detained Marius upon a hospital cot. And yet it was so.

Mme. Favoral and her daughter were alone, one evening, at the house,
when loud clamors arose from the street, in the midst of which
could be heard drunken voices yelling the refrains of revolutionary
songs, accompanied by continuous rumbling sounds. They ran to the
window. The National Guards had just taken possession of the cannon
deposited in the Place Royale. The reign of the Commune was
commencing.

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