A Tatter of Scarlet: Adventurous Episodes of the Commune in the Midi 1871Crockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
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A Tatter of Scarlet: Adventurous Episodes of the Commune in the Midi 1871
Crockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
Adventure stories; Franco-Prussian War, 1870-1871 -- Fiction; Scots -- France -- Fiction
"To-morrow," he said "you shall elect your Commune--twenty citizens of
weight and mark to take the place of the present provisional government
which has declared Aramon a city of liberty. Choose you good strong men
who can deal with the Company and the Company's agent. Have no fear. Our
cause is just. Marseilles and the great cities are with us. And
to-morrow, doubt it not, France shall be with us also. We have
inaugurated the reign of international peace. Let us begin by keeping
the peace within our own borders. If we are to govern at all, we must
show an example of good government, so that every city, town, and hamlet
shall desire to throw in its lot with us. There is to be no wrecking of
machinery, which we know must one day belong to the workers. We shall
make friends with the foremen of departments, and when we come to
restarting the works on the Communist plan we shall pay every man his
wage according to his deserts--aye, and to Dennis Deventer his, for a
head we must have. A business without a head is like an army without a
general."
At this moment I was suddenly gripped solidly from behind, my weapons
snatched away from me, and with the butt of the rifle such a blow was
delivered on the back of my head that the marvel is I am here writing of
it to-day. My gentleman of the bull enclosure had been cleverer than I
had anticipated. Most likely he had been shamming dead, and now, having
loosened himself, he had leaped the fence, made a detour of the
boulevard and appeared from behind me at the moment when I was expecting
him as little as he had looked for me in the archway.
That gun-butt was enough for me. I sank swooning on the ground under the
low smoke drift from the dim torches and with the words of Keller Bey as
to universal peace and concord still in my ears.
CHAPTER XXVI
KELLER BEY, INSURGENT
Among the panelled mirrors and gilt splendours of the Hotel de Ville of
Aramon I opened my eyes. A doctor had been attending me. My head was
tightly bandaged and my left hand was also bound up. From many aches and
pains I judged that in my quality of detected spy I had been somewhat
severely dealt with, by the crowd, or perhaps my own man had remembered
the taste of the gag and had perpetrated some little personal atrocities
on his own account, before delivering me up to justice, in order to
square the account.
The doctor was talking to Keller Bey. It was broad day, and abundant
light, filtering through the plane trees, flooded the great room. It was
usually the Salle des Mariages, but for the time being it had been
converted into a lounging place for the people of Aramon. I had in fact
awakened on election day, and in the new Commune my vote was as good as
that of any other man. At one end was a space boarded off in the regular
way, into which one elector after another passed with his voting ticket,
and having deposited it under the eyes of the four watchful questors,
walked immediately out by the opposite door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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