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
I saw Keller Bey turn pale to the lips. He understood well enough. He
had campaigned against those same invisible, tireless French engineers
for many desperate African years, and he knew that in the long run they
always made out to do the task set for them.
But Raoux the cobbler-procureur was quite unmoved.
"They are playing with levels and angle-machines as they used to do when
I was at Avignon. They went out every day clean and came back dirty. The
colonel could find nothing better for them to do. To-morrow we shall
send half a column of ours and shoot a few. Then the rest will keep
further up the river where they belong."
"As you will," said Keller Bey, "but you had better send a battalion at
least with provisions for three days."
"Provisions for three days--absurd nonsense!" foamed the little man, for
this was touching his tenderest spot, "our citizen soldiers are the
National Guard of Aramon, and will not consent to sleep away from their
houses, not for all the wig-wagging engineers and railway signalling in
France! We are not slaves but freemen. No, no, a day's excursion to
brush away these impudent land surveyors with a volley from our
patriotic rifles--and then back again before dark with victory on our
untarnished banners--that is what you can expect from the lion hearts of
our young men. We defend the Commune. We do not make war outside it. And
why should we when the chief strength of the enemy remains unassaulted
and untaken within our walls?"
Keller Bey called off the ex-engineer. With such a war method as that
which was evidently popular in Aramon, it was no use wasting time
reading semaphore messages.
The Chief and I returned very mournfully to the Mairie. I could see that
his reflections were bitter.
"They do not understand the Commune or what it means--they do not know
the spirit of the Internationale here. They care nothing except for
their little municipal quarrels. They cherish wild, vague hopes about
the works, and would attack the man upon whose charity they are living.
But of the fact that France will one day speak to them with a voice of
authority--nay, is now speaking in warning--to that they will pay no
heed. At the Commune meeting to-day a whole day was wasted arguing for
or against an extra duty on potatoes when brought across the bridge from
the Protestant department of the Deux Rives. Protestant potatoes,
Catholic and Roman potatoes! What irony, when the dusky signal-men are
crawling from hill to hill ever nearer, and any day may bring our doom
upon us!"
I let it sink well in, for I could see that Keller Bey was at last
conscious of the mistake he had made.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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