I am still sadly confused, and cannot make up my mind what all this is about. Patience, however, I shall know all at the Hôtel de Ville. Here we are. The National Guard keeps the ground, and the whole procession files into the Cour d’Honneur. Carried on by the crowd, I find myself near the entrance and can see what is going on inside. The whole of the Commune is out on the balcony, at the top of the grand staircase, in front of the statue of the Republic, which like the Communists wears a red scarf. Great trophies of red flags are waving everywhere. Men bearing the banners of the society are stationed on every step; on each is inscribed, in golden letters, mottos of peace and fraternity. A patriarchal Freemason, wearing his collar and badges, has arrived in a carriage; they help him to alight with marks of the greatest respect. The court is by this time full to overflowing, an enthusiastic cry of “Vive la Franc Maçonnerie! Vive la République Universelle!” is re-echoed from mouth to mouth. Citizen Félix Pyat, member of the Commune, who is on the balcony, comes forward to speak. I congratulate myself on being at last about to hear what all this means. But I am disappointed. The pushing and squeezing is unbearable. I have vigorously to defend my hat, stick, purse, and cigar-case, and am half stifled besides. I almost despair of catching a single word, but at last succeed in hearing a few detached sentences:—“Universal nationality.... liberty, equality, and fraternity.... manifestos of the heart....” (what is that?) “the standard of humanity.... ramparts....” If I could only get a little nearer—the words “homicidal balls.... fratricidal bullets.... universal peace....” alone reach me. Is it to hear such stuff as this, that the Freemasons have come to the Hôtel de Ville? I suppose so, for after a little more of the same kind the whole is drowned in a stupendous roar of “Vive la Commune!” and “Vive la République!” I have given up all hope of ever understanding. [Illustration: Félix Pyat.[67]]