notice during my sojourn in the Orangerie, tion, but the mere repose would have been but one example will suffice. I had, on very pleasant had it not been for the cold, my arrival at Satory, a whole packet of which was intense. I shivered and shook tobacco, which I gave away to all those the whole night through, though I hoped who asked me for a small cigarette: that I might have been kept warm by the "Seulement une petite cigarette, monsieur number of those who used my body as a - (for citoyen was now dropped) -"une pillow, and the manner in which I was surtoute petite cigarette." This "petite ciga- rounded on every side by human beings; rette I gave and gave, until, when I arrived but nothing could warm anyone, and none at the Orangerie, I had no more tobacco of those around slept. The next day in my possession. The luxury of smoking (Thursday, June 1st) I and my companion is at all times great, but never greater endeavoured to get ourselves inscribed on than when you have nothing to eat, and the list of those who were to start for one look to your cigar or cigarette to supply of the seaports; but as we had not rethe deficiency. I met several of those to ceived our bread for the day, we were whom I had given of my store, and who turned back, and condemned to another had now become possessed of tobacco, and four-and-twenty hours of our fearful abode. begged a cigarette of them. Not one That day dragged on as miserably as its would give me the slightest morsel, saying predecessor; the only event being the visit as they refused me, “ Nous en avons besoin of a deputy of the Assembly, which gave nous-memes," an answer which did not rise to great anticipation, as he said (in tend to increase my admiration of the my hearing) that our condition was French lower orders or their feelings of disgraceful, that at least straw and a gratitude. small portion of soup ought to be served out to us an observation which met with the approval of all the prisoners. During the daytime the heat was as intense as the cold had been in the previous night; as there were no latrines and nothing but open tubs, placed at intervals of twenty yards distant from one another, the stench was intolerable. Washing was entirely and absolutely impossible. The only thing to be done was to find a place to sit down (no easy matter), and to endeavour to while away the weary hours by sleep or thought. Two or three times in the course of the day our persons were searched by our gaolers, for tobacco, money, matches, or knives. Having some small quantity of the two first named, I managed to secrete them in my boot, and was thus enabled to guard my treasures; but a comb, or rather half a one, which I had imagined secure in my pocket, was seized and taken from me. It was weary work, to say the very best of it; the sun poured in at the windows, and only added to the misery of the scene by its glorious brightness, lighting up the dull, grey walls and the squalid mass of human beings into something like absolute brightness. Gendarmes passed through without ceasing, calling out the names of those who had been reclaimed by their friends or relations; and wearisome work it must have been for them. Several of them were too hoarse by constant shouting to perform this duty, and deputed a prisoner, whose voice had not been so much tried as his own, to do this work for him. One could not have any sympathy for them, for their brutality towards ourselves had been too great: I saw many a one of my fellow-captives hit with the butt-end of a rifle, or prodded with a bayonet for no of fence whatever. Our gaolers, as they were, were able to procure for us divers luxuries, such as sausages, ham, tobacco, &c., but they made a great profit out of this complaisance; and in a good many instances in which money was given them by the prisoners for the purpose of buying any of the above mentioned articles, they appropriated the money; and when asked for the things demanded, replied ing but shout and scream both day and that they knew nothing about the matter. After a couple of hours' perambulating, we were lucky enough to find room to squat down in, and I curled myself up in about two feet of space, with at least seven or eight men reclining and supporting themselves against different parts of my body. Real sleep was out of the ques The terrible scenes and sufferings that we had all gone through had deprived many of our number of their reason, which added yet more to our misery, for some were dangerous, and made attempts on the lives of their companions, others did noth night, though some were harmless and quiet enough. One of these lunatics, having gone too near a glass door which we were forbidden to approach, was fired on by the sentry posted on the outside, and killed on the spot. I had thought that nothing could exceed the misery of the first night, but it was as nothing compared to what I endured on the second. ingly no time was lost in getting us arranged in it. Together with my countrymen I had There were first-class carriages for the gained permission to remain in a part of officers, second-class for our guards, and the gallery where it was not generally al-beast-waggons for us, into which forty of lowed to pass, and we hoped that we had a us were packed. good chance of obtaining a night's rest; There was an ample supply of bread but, after I had been asleep for two or placed in the waggon for our use, but only three hours, I was aroused by a violent four large cans of water, each containing, blow on the head, and found that the most I should think, about eight litres, so that dangerous of the madmen was standing all we had to drink for seven-and-twenty over me. I defended myself to the best hours, which was the time our journey of my power, and my companion, having lasted, was not quite a quart of water for been awakened by the noise, assisted me each man, and this for men who were in keeping our opponent at a distance. cooped up together in a small space, with But he was joined by four or five more lu- barely enough air to keep them alive adnatics, and we were forced to leave our mitted into their place of confinement! I comfortable place, and seek another spot wonder that one of us survived. Howto lie down in. But it was absolutely use- ever, as all evils must have an end, so had less to hope to obtain any rest that night; our journey; and at midnight we were for though we changed from one place to deposited on the quay at Brest. We were another, four or five times, yet the maniacs put on board several large boats and were everywhere, and having seen us walk-tugged out into the harbour to one of the ing about, followed us, and would allow dismantled ships, where we were to be us no repose. I counted that night fortyfour men, entirely bereft of reason, roaming about, and attacking others in the same way as they had done us, till at last very many got up, like ourselves, and walked about till daybreak. To our inexpressible delight we succeeded the next morning in being among the very first ranks of those who were to start that day; but our names were inscribed at half-past eleven in the morning, and we did not leave the Orangerie, to march to the station, till half-past seven in the evening; thus remaining eight hours in the ranks awaiting, every instant, the order for our departure. When it did come every one seemed to brighten up and become more cheerful. What our destination was, or what our future treatment wonld be, were to us unknown. The general impression (whence derived I know not) was that we were to go to either Brest or Belleisle, but there was not a man of our number but was glad to quit the plaee where we had suffered such misery, and we were unanimous in agreeing that it would be impossible for us to be worse off than we had been. confined. It was three o'clock in the morning of Sunday, June 4th, when we were enabled to lay ourselves down on the hard deck and snatch a few moments' real repose. Our condition, though still miserable enough, was greatly ameliorated. We had better food, airy lodging, hammocks to sleep in, but above all we were given a clean shirt apiece, and were enabled to wash ourselves, the comfort of which was very great. We were divided into messes, ten in each, and to every man was distributed a fork and spoon; a tin cup was also given between two. We were summoned by sound of trumpet every morning at half-past five, when the hammocks were rolled up into bundles for the day, immediately after which a distribution of bread took place, each man receiving but a small quantity. Then the decks were washed down, an operation which lasted till half-past eight o'clock. From that time till eleven there was nothing to do but sleep, play piquet or lotto, or listen to the many speculations which were rife as to the ultimate fate of all the We were marched, escorted by the In- prisoners. At eleven the morning inspec fanterie de la Marine, to the railway sta- tion took place, and was followed by the tion at Versailles. I suppose that the in- morning's soup, accompanied by bread or habitants of the town had by this time biscuit. Four times a week we had meat become well accustomed to the sight of - on Sundays and Thursdays fresh beef, poor wretches like ourselves, for we passed and on Tuesdays and Saturdays salt meat; through the streets uncommented upon, but the latter was generally uneatable, and almost without being looked at, to our owing to the cook never taking the trouble great relief. The train in which we were to soak the meat previous to preparing it. to travel was waiting for us, and accord-The other days our soup consisted simply of the water in which peas or beans had been boiled, and very little of that, with a small quantity of the vegetable at the bottom. Soup was again served at five o'clock in the afternoon, and at half-past six the evening inspection, before slinging the hammocks for the night, brought the day to a close. Every other day each man mounted on deck, according to the number of the division (of which there were four) to which his mess belonged; on one day it was their turn to wash their linen, for which purpose they went up during the washing of decks in the morning; on the next only to take the air and smoke, for permission to smoke was granted to those alone who were on the upper deck. The amount of sickness and disease was so great that a hospital ship was moored close by us, to receive the patients, many of whom, I afterwards heard, died of a sort of gaol fever, caught during their sojourn at Versailles, but never fully developed till some days afterwards. I saw many a man fall down suddenly, as if in a fit, his fists clenched and his teeth set, looking like one dead, and be carried off to the hospital, never again to come among us. One night, one man about three hammocks from me, fell out of it on to the ground-dead: want and starvation had killed him. I cannot, for obvious reasons, detail at present the horrors of my three weeks' sojourn on board. I only wish to give a general idea of what the life was in one of those ships, and when I think that those who were there with me still remain in the same condition, and, as it appears, have no chance of release for months to come, my heart grows sick within me, and I can only be thankful to Almighty God for my miraculous and providential release. How that was effected, I cannot at present tell; I hope that I may be able, at some future date, to relate the whole history of my adventures in a more complete and detailed fashion. In conclusion, let me say, as one who ought to be able to form an opinion, having lived so long among them, that, far from speaking hardly of the miserable creatures who have been led astray and suffered so much, one ought rather to pity them. The greater part of those who served the Commune (for all, with but few exceptions, did serve) were "pressed men," like myself; but those who had wives or children to support, and were without work — nay, without means of obtaining even a crust of bread (for the first siege had exhausted all their little savings) were forced by neeessity to enrol themselves in the National Guard for the sake of their daily pay. In the regular army of the Commune, if I may so style the National Guard, there were but few volunteers, and those were in general orderly and respectable men; but the irregular regiments, such as the Enfants Perdus, Chasseurs Fédérés, Défenseurs de la Colonne de Juillet, were nothing but troops of blackguards and ruffians, who made their uniform an excuse for pillaging and robbing all they could lay their hands on. Such men deserve the vengeance which overtook the majority of them. All I can say in conclusion is, that the crimes and excesses laid to the charge of the Commune seem to me to have been greatly exaggerated: that they were greatly to blame is indisputable, but the old proverb is a true one,-"The Devil is never so black as he is painted," and it certainly holds good in this case. ROBINSON CRUSOE.-There is inquiry going on as to whether Defoe invented the name of Robinson Crusoe. He did not invent but he discovered it. In the grand old church of St. Magaret, at Lynn Regis in England, are mural tablets to the family of Crusoe, and there is one certainly (and I think that there are two) which bears the name of Robinson Crusoe. The dates on those tablets are earlier than that of the birth of Defoe. But did he ever see those tablets, and when? In all probability he did see them as a youth. On launching into the great world, he sailed from Hull for London, along the eastern coast of VOL. XXIII. 1065 LIVING AGE. England, and because of a storm the vessel which carried him had to turn for shelter into Lynn Deeps, and he writes of himself, expressly, that on that occasion he went ashore at Lynn on Sunday; and no doubt, also, he went to church that Sunday, and saw at St. Magaret's, on the southern wall, the name of Robinson Crusoe. Myself, I knew of two persons in that town by the name of Robinson Crusoe, and no doubt there is one still; because the postmaster has been of that name, and of the same family, one generation after another, for a long time. Transcript. CHAPTER XI. THE climaxes of life come only occasionally. When borne upon the height of them we think we can endure anything; all beside them seem so small. But when they are over, and we have sunk back into the level of every-day life, it is different. The sword-stroke we hardly felt; the daily pin-pricks drive us wild. It is sure to be so; we cannot help it. my own or my husband's either. Hannah, when you marry, you'll be thankful that you've got no sisters." Hannah smiled. She saw that of the real truth of her position with regard to Mr. Rivers Adeline guessed nothing. It was best so. As weeks passed another change gradually came. Invitations - the fear of which had sometimes perplexed her; for how should she meet the Moat-House family, At first Hannah thought she could. even upon neutral ground?-almost toAfter that Sunday morning she and tally ceased. Her neighbours left off callBernard talked no more together why ing—that is, her grand neighbours; the should they? Their minds were quite humbler ones still sought her; but she made up that both love and marriage were lawful to them if attainable. But seeing that an immediate union was impossible, and a separation almost equally so, they spoke of neither again, but tacitly determined to go on living together as before in no way like lovers but as like brother and sister as was practicable; both for their own sakes, and for the sake of outward eyes. This decided, Hannah thought her way would be clear. It was only a question of time, and patient waiting. Any year the Bill might be passed, and their marriage made possible. In the meantime it was no worse than a long engagement; better, perhaps, since they had the daily comfort of one another's society. At least Hannah felt it so, and was cheerful and content. What Bernard felt he did not say-but he was not always content; often very dull, irritable, and desponding. At such times Hannah had great patience with him the patience which had now the additional strength of knowing that it was to be exereised for life. It was most needed, she found, after he had been to the Moat-House-whither, according to her wish, he steadily went, and went alone. Had she been his wife or even openly his betrothed- she might, spite of all she had said, have resented this; but, now, what could she resent? She had no rights to urge. So she submitted. As to what passed on these visits, she asked no questions and he gave no information. She never saw Bernard's people now; except on Sundays, with the distance of a dozen pews between them. Young Mrs. Melville still called-punctiliously and pointedly leaving her pair of greys standing outside the gate; but she excused herself from asking Hannah to the Grange, because if the girls were there it would be so very awkward. "And the girls are always there," added she querulously. "I can't call my house - fancied she read in their eyes a painful curiosity-a still more painful compassion, especially when they met her and Bernard together- a chance which occurred but seldom now. For he, too, seemed to have a nervous dread of being seen with her, and avoided her so much that she would often have thought he had forgotten every word that had passed between them, save for the constant mindfulness, the continual watchful care, which a man never shows except to the one woman he loves best in the world. Yet sometimes, even having so much made the weak heart crave for a little — a very little more; just a word or two of love; an evening now and then of their old frank intercourse so safe and free: but neither ever came. Bernard seemed to make it a point of honour that whatever people chose to say, they should be given no data upon which to come to the smallest conclusion. Within, as without the house, all the world might have heard every word he said to Miss Thelluson. Whatever suspicion was whispered about the village, it rose to no open scandal. Everybody came to church as usual, and no one applied to Mr. Rivers's bishop to restrain him from preaching because he retained as his housekeeper a lady whom the law persisted in regarding as his sister. But the contradiction was, that in spite of her being counted his "sister," people did talk, and would talk; and, of course, the sharpest lash of their tongues fell, not upon the man, but upon the woman. Slowly, slowly, Hannah became aware that every servant in the house, every family in the parish, kept an eye upon her, observing, condemning, sympathizing, defending - all by turns but never leaving her alone, till she felt like the poor camel in the desert, whose dying gaze sees in the horizon that faint black line, coming nearer and nearer - the vultures which - more's ermine tails, and, perhaps, by her sweet motherly face, that she made friends with her immediately. But Hannah was nervous agitated. She knew exactly the expression of that quick dark eye, which saw everything, and saw through everything, whether or not the lady mentioned the result of that observation. Rosie became not only her darling, but her friend. She had now almost no other companion, and wanted none. All grownup people seemed worldly and shallow, Bernard, too, was a little constrained. dull and cold, compared to the pure little He knew Lady Dunsmore slightly, and soul, fresh out of heaven - which heaven evidently was not aware that Hannah itself had sent to comfort her. As Rosie's knew her so well; for Hannah was not apt English increased they two held long con- to boast of her friends, especially when versations together very monosyllabic they happened to have titles. Yet the certainly, and upon the simplest of topics sight of her warmed her heart, and she "bow-wows," ," "gee-gees," and so onhad.hundreds of questions to ask about yet quite comprehensible, and equally her old pupils, and endless reminiscences interesting to both. For is not a growing of her old life with them soul the most interesting and lovely, as well as most solemn sight, in all this world? Hannah sometimes stood in awe and wonder at the intelligence of the little woman, not yet three years old. so peaceful and contented. Yet would she have had it back, rather than the life now? No!unhesitatingly no! She felt this, when, having put the blithe little countess in her carriage, Bernard returned. He walked heavily down the garden, in deep thought. 66 They two understood one another perfectly, and loved one another as even real mother and child do not always love. For never in all her little life had Rosie heard a harsher word than, "Oh, Rosie- Tan-nah." nie so sorry!" which sufficed to melt her "Yes, she was always kind to me." A charming person, Lady Dunsmore; and a warm, steady friend of yours, Han at once into the most contrite tears. Pure contrition with no fear of punishment -for she had never been punished. To her innocent, happy heart, no harmless joy had ever been denied, no promise ever broken. She knew that, and rested in her little ark of love as content and safe as a nautilus in its shell, swimming over the troubled waters of poor Tannie's lot like a visible angel of consolation. Day by day that lot was growing more hard to bear, until at last chance brought it to a climax. One forenoon, just before Mr. Rivers was going out, there drove up to the House on the Hill a pretty pony carriage and pair of greys, and out of it stepped a little, bright, active, pretty woman the Countess of Dunsmore. "I knew I should surpise you," cried she, kissing Hannah on both cheeks, and telling her how well she was looking; which she was, in the sudden pleasure of the meeting. "But I wanted to surprise you. We are visiting at Highwood Park, Mr. Rivers, and I met your sisters there at dinner, you know, and promised to come and see them; but of course I came to see Miss Thelluson first. Well, my dear, and how are you? And how is your pet Rosie?" The little Rosie answered for herself, being so greatly attracted by Lady Duns "Kinder than others have been since," said Mr. Rivers, sighing. "Would you like to go and pay her the long visit she asks for?" "No." "And what shall you do about that invitation she brought you, to go with my sisters to dine at Highwood Lodge?" "What can I do, except not go? To explain is impossible." "Yes." After a moment's thought Mr. Rivers went on "Hannah, may Ĭ say a word? Evidently my people have been quite silent to Lady Dunsmore about you; she expected to meet you at the MoatHouse. They perhaps are sorry, and would be glad of an opportunity to atone. May I speak to them?" Stop a minute. What shall you say? For I will have nothing said that would humiliate me." 66 Bernard looked tenderly at the flushed face. My love, any man humiliates himself who for a moment allows the woman he has chosen to be lightly esteemed. Be satisfied; I shall keep up your dignity as if it were my own; for it is my own.' "Thank you." But there was only pride - no sweetness in the words. They made him turn back at once. 66 Oh, Hannah, how long is this state of things to last? How can we bear it if it lasts very long?" |