Robert W. Chambers

“ The boom of the gun rolled along the quay and the old bridge vibrated,
Again over by the Point du Jour a flash and heavy explosion shook the bridge, and then the whole eastern bastion of the fortifications blazed and crackled, sending a red flame into the sky.
“Has any one seen the signals yet?” he asked again.
“We are waiting,” was the reply.
“Yes, waiting,” murmured a man behind him, “waiting, sick, starved, freezing, but waiting. Is it a sortie? They go gladly. Is it to starve? They starve. They have no time to think of surrender. Are they heroes,—these Parisians? answer me, Trent!” ”

“ Then Trent, with a smile at West, offered the toast, “To a Happy Pair!” and everybody understood, and Sylvia leaned over and kissed Colette while Trent bowed to West.
The beef was eaten in comparative calm, but when it was finished and a portion of it set aside for the old people below, Trent cried: “Drink to Paris! May she rise from her ruins and crush the invader!” and the cheers rang out, drowning for a moment the monotonous thunder of the Prussian guns. ”

“ You come loafing about Colette with your pockets stuffed with white bread and beef, and a bottle of wine at thirty francs and you can’t really afford to give a dollar to the American Ambulance and Public Assistance, which Braith does, and he’s half starved!”
Hartman retreated to the curbstone, but West followed him, his face like a thunder-cloud. “Don’t you dare to call yourself a countryman of mine,” he growled,—“no,—nor an artist either! Artists don’t worm themselves into the service of the Public Defense where they do nothing but feed like rats on the people’s food! ”

“ Then everywhere windows were raised and rows of haggard faces appeared demanding to know why people should laugh in the starving city.
“Is it a victory?” murmured one.
“Look at that,” cried West as Hartman picked himself up from the pavement, “look! you miser! look at those faces!” But Hartman gave him a look which he never forgot, and walked away without a word. Trent, who suddenly appeared at the corner, glanced curiously at West, who merely nodded toward his door saying, “come in; Fallowby’s upstairs.” ”

“ A man threw his arm around his neck and bore him to the ground, but he throttled him and raised himself on his knees. He saw a comrade seize the cannon, and fall across it with his skull crushed in; he saw the colonel tumble clean out of his saddle into the mud; then consciousness fled.
When he came to himself, he was lying on the embankment among the twisted rails. On every side huddled men who cried out and cursed and fled away into the fog, and he staggered to his feet and followed them. ”

“ The child turned a passionless face to Trent.
“Shoot, then.”
That was too much, and he turned on his heel and entered his hotel.
Groping up the unlighted stairway, he at last reached his own landing and felt about in the darkness for the door. From his studio came the sound of voices, West’s hearty laugh and Fallowby’s chuckle, and at last he found the knob and, pushing back the door, stood a moment confused by the light.
“Hello, Jack!” cried West, “you’re a pleasant creature, inviting people to dine and letting them wait. ”

“ Trent shook his head.
“I forgot to say that Hartman often dines there, and I draw my own conclusions,” continued West. “Now about this chicken, half of it is for Braith and myself and half for Colette, but of course you will help me eat my part because I’m not hungry.”
“Neither am I,” began Braith, but Trent, with a smile at the pinched faces before him, shook his head saying, “What nonsense! You know I’m never hungry!” ”

“ A battery passed at full gallop and he drew back with his comrades to give it way. It went into action a little to the right of his battalion, and as the shot from the first rifled piece boomed through the mist, the cannon from the fortifications opened with a mighty roar. An officer galloped by shouting something which Trent did not catch, but he saw the ranks in front suddenly part company with his own, and disappear in the twilight. More officers rode up and stood beside him peering into the fog. Away in front the crackling had become one prolonged crash, It was dreary waiting. ”

“ Swiftly and more swiftly, crowding squadron after squadron and battery on battery, horses plunging and caissons jolting, the remnants from the front surged through the gates, a chaos of cavalry and artillery struggling for the right of way. Close upon them stumbled the infantry; here a skeleton of a regiment marching with a desperate attempt at order, there a riotous mob of Mobiles crushing their way to the streets, then a turmoil of horsemen, cannon, troops without officers, officers without men, then again a line of ambulances, the wheels groaning under their heavy loads. ”

“ At that moment the horse of one of the officers gave a bound and backed into the battalion, lashing out with his heels. One man was ridden down; another was kicked in the chest and hurled through the ranks. The officer sank his spurs into the horse and forced him to the front again, where he stood trembling. The cannonade seemed to draw nearer. A staff officer, riding slowly up and down the battalion suddenly collapsed in his saddle and clung to his horse’s mane. One of his boots dangled, crimsoned and dripping, from the stirrup. Then out of the mist in front, men came running. ”

“ Pipes and cigarettes were lighted, and Trent listened an instant to the animated chatter around him, broken by ripples of laughter from the girls or the mellow chuckle of Fallowby. Then he turned to West.
“There is going to be a sortie to-night,” he said, “I saw the American Ambulance surgeon just before I came in and he asked me to speak to you fellows. Any aid we can give him will not come amiss.” ”

“ For a moment the alley resounded with the racket of the revolver, then absolute silence followed.
Presently a single questioning blow fell upon the door, and a moment later another and another, and then a sudden crack zigzagged across the iron plate.
“Here,” said West, seizing Colette by the wrist, “you follow, me, Braith!” and he ran swiftly toward a circular spot of light at the further end of the cellar. The spot of light came from a barred man-hole above. West motioned Braith to mount on his shoulders,
“Push it over. You must!” ”

“ Then, “Oh, it’s too bad!—really, men are tiresome when they think they know everything! And I warn you that if Monsieur West is vain enough to imagine that Colette⸻”
From the north another shell came whistling and quavering through the sky, passing above them with long-drawn screech which left the windows singing.
“That,” he blurted out, “was too near for comfort.”
They were silent for a while, then he spoke again gayly: “Go on, Sylvia, and wither poor West:” but she only sighed, “Oh, dear, I can never seem to get used to the shells.” ”

“ Thorne looked meek, but West assumed an air of outraged virtue.
“It seems,” he said to Fallowby, “that a fellow cannot discuss the beauties of Greek sculpture in his mother tongue, without being openly suspected.”
Colette placed her hand over his mouth and turning to Sylvia, murmured, “They are horridly untruthful, these men.”
“I believe the word for ambulance is the same in both languages,” said Marie Guernalec saucily; “Sylvia, don’t trust Monsieur Trent.” ”

“ Then her nerves gave way and she wept hysterically, but West threw his arm around her and led her across the gardens into the next street, where Braith, after replacing the man-hole cover and piling some stone slabs from the wall over it, rejoined them. It was almost dark. They hurried through the street now only lighted by burning buildings or the swift glare of the shells. ”

“ The perfunctory question was answered as usual by: “nothing but the cannon.”
Trent sat down on the bed.
“Where on earth did you get that?” he demanded, pointing to a half-finished chicken nestling in a wash-basin.
West grinned.
“Are you millionaires, you two? Out with it.”
Braith, looking a little ashamed, began, “Oh, it’s one of West’s exploits,” but was cut short. by West, who said he would tell the story himself.
“You see, before the siege, I had. a letter of introduction to a “type” here, a fat banker, German-American variety. You know the species, I see. ”

“ Once outside, he edged into line and shouldered his way along the road. A corporal passed, looked at him, repassed, and finally called an officer. “You belong to the 60th,” growled the corporal looking at the number on his képi.”
“We have no use for Franc-tireurs,” added the officer, catching sight of his black trowsers.”
“I wish to volunteer in place of a comrade,” said Trent, and the officer shrugged his shoulders and passed on.
Nobody paid much attention to him, one or two merely glancing at his trowsers. The road was deep with slush and mud ploughed and torn by wheels and hoofs. ”

“ I thought it was Monsieur West; then blushing furiously; “oh, I see you have heard! Oh, thank you so much for your wishes, and I’m sure we love each other very much,—and I’m dying to see Sylvia and tell her and⸻”
“And what,” laughed Trent.
“I am very happy,” she sighed.
“He’s pure gold,” returned Trent, and then gayly: “I want you and George to come and dine with us to-night. It’s a little treat,—you see to-morrow is Sylvia’s fête. She will be nineteen. I have written to Thorn, and the Guernalecs will come with their cousin Odile. Fallowby has engaged not to bring anybody but himself.” ”

“ High on the wall of masonry and earth a great gun loomed, and around it figures moved in silhouettes. Below, a broad torrent of bayonets swept through the iron barred gateway, out into the shadowy plain. ”

“ Then he tossed him a franc, laughing. The child caught it, and thrusting it into his mouth wheeled about to the sewer hole. For a second he crouched, motionless, alert, his eyes on the bars of the drain, then leaping forward he hurled a stone into the gutter, and Trent left him to finish a fierce gray rat that writhed squealing at the mouth of the sewer.
“Suppose Braith should come to that,” he thought; “poor little chap;” and hurrying, he turned in the dirty passage des Beaux Arts and entered the third house to the left.
“Monsieur is at home,” quavered the old concierge.
Home? ”

“ Mechanically he stooped to pick up his rifle, but the bayonet was still in the man who lay, beating with red hands against the sod. It sickened him and he leaned on the cannon. Men were fighting all around him now and the air was foul with smoke and sweat. Somebody seized him from behind and another in front, but others in turn seized them or struck them solid blows. The click! click! click! of bayonets infuriated him, and he grasped the rammer and struck out blindly until it was shivered to pieces. ”

“ I take it d⸻d ill, Braith! How many times must I go over the same thing and explain to you that because I have money it is my duty to share it, and your duty and the duty of every American to share it with me? You can’t get a cent, the city’s blockaded, and the American Minister has his hands full with all the German riff-raff and deuce knows what! Why don’t you act sensibly?”
“I—I will, Trent, but it’s an obligation that perhaps I can never even in part repay, I’m poor and⸻”
“Of course you'll pay me! If I were a usurer I would take your talent for security. ”

“ Marchons!”
with all their might, while Fallowby with very bad grace, hammered on the table, consoling himself a little with the hope that the exercise would increase his appetite. Hercules, the black and tan, fled under the bed, from which retreat he yapped and whined until dragged out by Guernalec and placed in Odile’s lap.
“And now,” said Trent gravely, when everybody was seated, “listen!” and he read the menu. ”

“ General Trochu sent orders last night.”
“It will be terrible.”
“It will be sickening,” thought Trent as he went out into the street and turned the corner toward the rue de Seine; slaughter, slaughter, phew! “I’m glad I’m not going.”
The street was almost deserted. A few women muffled in tattered military capes crept along the frozen pavement, and a wretchedly clad gamin hovered over the sewer hole on the corner of the Boulevard. A rope around his waist held his rags together. From the rope hung a rat, still warm and bleeding.
“There’s another in there,” he yelled at Trent ”