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
"Here--here," he explained, "take the first two volumes of "Les
Miserables." It is the best of all. I shall read faster than you, for I
have nothing else to do, and I keep it up far into the night. Why, my
friend, if you come to-morrow, I shall have the third volume ready for
you. No, no, don't thank me, but go instead and get your head clear of
this noose. This Communist Aramon is going to be no safe place to play
unpaid secretary in after a week or two. Those white wreaths of smoke
against the Cevennes tell me that. The Company and the Government are
working together over there, and when they are ready--it will be good
not to be here and in your shoes!"
"But, Monsieur Weyse, you will be here!"
"Ah, that is different! I am a lonely man, and a servant in the way of
his duty. Nothing can come amiss to me. Even if either side fortifies
the junction buildings--why, I am the station-master acting for the
Company. I sit and write my report once a day, and for the rest I read
Hugo. Nothing is more simple. But as for you, take an old man's word.
You are better anywhere than where you are!"
CHAPTER XXVII
UNDER WHICH KING, BEZONIAN?
The station-master was right. I saw how things were tending and how the
revolt was sure to end. Yet I was by nature so curious of the oddities
of the business that I put off speaking to Keller Bey. For one thing, I
did not want to find myself shut up in the Duke's Castle along with the
other martyrs of the new rule. I preferred the open air and risk.
Besides, I could each day assure myself of the well-being of Dennis
Deventer and his family.
I discovered where Jack Jaikes was usually to be found on guard, and,
early in the dusk of the morning, I slipped from my room in order to
speak half an hour with him in private. He first abused me like a
pickpocket for taking sides with such a dirty pack, and it was with the
utmost difficulty that he could be persuaded that there was after all a
difference between a Communard and a prisoner on parole. He did not
trouble to conceal his opinion of the latter.
"Jump over the wall," he whispered, "see, catch hold of my belt. I tell
ye, man, in business we cannot afford to be so fine. I learned that in
Glasgow long syne, when a brither-in-law o' mine took my job from me.
Now, he was my brither, though not by blood, and in a manner o' speaking
I had promised to love, honour, and obey. But instead I just bashed him
till he was laid up in bed for six weeks--so I got my job back! Now tell
me, where would I have been if I had minded about honour and 'paroles'
and them things?"
It was in vain that I pointed out to Jack Jaikes that, after all, it was
not he but his sister who had promised to love, honour, and obey the
maltreated job-jumper.
"It doesna maitter. It's all the wan thing!" was all that I could get
out of Jack Jaikes. "Now then, catch a haud and I'll hae ye beside me in
the crack o' a cow's tail!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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