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What is still more strange, he had been up to then invincibly indifferent to music, insomuch that he could not distinguish "God save the Queen" from "Bonnie Dundee"; and now, to the chanting of the mob, he amazed his family by learning and singing "Mourir pour la Patrie."
The band struck up, unbidden, with all its power, the Marseillaise Hymn; and every voice in the piazza, and, by degrees, along the neighbouring streets and square, seemed to join in singing the familiar words "Allons enfants de la patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrive." The consternation of the deputies and their guests was extreme.
L'onde est en furie, Adieu patrie, Azur! Adieu, maison, treille au fruit mer, Adieu les fruits d'or du vieux mur! Adieu, patrie, Ciel, foret, prairie; Adieu patrie, Azur." "Hush, monsieur!" the girl said with a swift gesture. He looked and saw that Angers was waking. "If I live," he hurriedly whispered, "I shall be at the King's Cave to-morrow night. And you the horses?"
"Allons, enfans de la patrie, Le jour de glorie est arrivé, Contre nous de la tyrannie L'étendard sanglant est levé. "Come! children of your country, come! The day of glory dawns on high, And tyranny has wide unfurl'd Her blood-stain'd banner in the sky." It was their death-knell.
Should I be paid for a kindness? Poor boy! he does not know what he does. He will 'ave a head ah! terrible in the morning. And see, he has fought for la patrie." She pointed to a gold wound-stripe on his arm. "Bon soir, monsieur." She stepped back and spoke quickly to the driver, who was watching sardonically. He nodded. "Bon soir, monsieur," she said again, and disappeared in the doorway.
"I didn't expect," our hero went on, "to meet you so far from from the Cafe de la Patrie." The old man remained silent, but decidedly Newman had touched the source of tears. His neighbor sat staring and Newman added, "What's the matter, M. Nioche? You used to talk to talk very prettily. Don't you remember you even gave lessons in conversation?" At this M. Nioche decided to change his attitude.
I own to a sensation of deadly terror for a moment when I saw the ladies in the midst of a lawless rabble whose brawny arms were bared as if prepared for butchery of any kind. Far off, too, a low rattle of distant musketry warned us that the tumult in Paris was renewed. "Mourir pour la Patrie" appeared to come from every throat, and many of the crowd were the worse for liquor.
At this time, here is a great variety of daily papers. The most eminent of these are well known in England; such as the Moniteur, the only official paper, the sale of which is said to be 20,000 per day; that of the Journal de Paris, 16,000; of the Publiciste, 14,000; of the Journal des Debats, 12,000; of the Journal des Defenseurs de la Patrie, 10,000; and of the Cle du Cabinet, 6,000.
About ten o'clock that evening Lancelot and Tregarva were walking stealthily up a ride in one of the home-covers, at the head of some fifteen fine young fellows, keepers, grooms, and not extempore 'watchers, whom old Harry was marshalling and tutoring, with exhortations as many and as animated as if their ambition was 'Mourir pour la patrie.
But the crowning recognition of my sacrifice came at the banquet which the town gave to the French officers. The Mayor proposed the toast of "our English friend." "We had all," he said, "made sacrifices for la Patrie he himself had sustained the loss of a wooden outhouse burned down in the bombardment; the gallant colonel on his right had spilt his blood at St. Privat.
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