The Revolution in Tanner's Lane

ration b

terror took possession of everybody. Secret outrages, especially fires by night, chill the courage of the bravest, as those know well enough who have lived in an agricultural county, when, just before going to bed, great lights are seen on the horizon; when men and women collect on bridges or on hill tops, asking "Where is it?" and when fire-engines tearing through the streets arrive useless at their journey's end because the hose has been cut. One evening in November 1816, Zachariah was walking home to his lodgings. A special meeting of the club had been called for the following Sunday to consider a proposal made for a march of the unemployed upon London. Three persons passed him-two men and a woman-who turned round and looked at him and then went on. He did not recognise them, but he noticed that they stopped opposite a window, and as he came up they looked at him again. He could not be mistaken; they were the Major, Caillaud, and his daughter. The most joyous recognition followed, and Zachariah insisted on their going home with him. It often happens that we become increasingly intimate with one another even when we are shut out from all intercourse. Zachariah had not seen the Major nor Caillaud nor Pauline for two years, and not a single thought had been interchanged. Nevertheless he was much nearer and dearer to them than he was before. He had unconsciously moved on a line rapidly sweeping round into parallelism with theirs. The relationship between h

s, nor feels, nor

brow which rest

spect, where the

ht that shone on

regularity, as the cat is the born natural enemy of the mouse. The sight of dirt, in fact, gave her a quiet kind of delight, because she foresaw the pleasure of annihilating it. Irregularity was just as hateful to her. She could not sit still if one ornament on the mantelpiece looked one way and the other another way, and she would have risen from her deathbed, if she could have done so, to put a chair straight. She was not, therefore, aggrieved in expectancy because she was not fit t

u? What a blessing to be here aga

o say so. I am very glad to see you again. Where

lowed. They bowed to her formally

, "you must have thought me dead. You might have kno

ade no reply further than to invi

pply of beer, and, more wonderful still, a small cold beefsteak pie. Everything was produced as easily as if it had been the ordinary fare, and Zachariah was astonished at his wife's equality to the emergency. Whence she obtained the ham and beefsteak pie he could not conjecture. She apologised for having nothing hot

aid that it would perhaps be better i

can do no good, and I for one don't want to be up

ah, "you can tell us why

ot attractive; and we thought that, on the whole, Manchester was to be preferred. Moreover, a good deal will have to be

" said Mrs. Zachariah.

ends on what yo

not be two opinio

de a great deal of here are not thought so much of there; and, what is very curi

se they are no

And really, when you come to consider it, we all of us make a great fuss about our o

Major, dreadfully

late and looked Mrs. Cole

n, you are E

pon this subject Pauline would have defied all the rules of hospit

nglish; you are excusable. I will not dispute

e more beer, Mr. Caill

u, madam, I h

m, including all the ham, remained untouched, and began-his Gallicisms an

ast compunction, allowing her a small sum weekly, insufficient to keep her. There was no scene when they parted, for his determination was communicated to her by letter. Three months afterwards she had a child of whom he was the father. Did she quietly take the money and say nothing? Did she tear up the letter in a frenzy and return him the fragments? She did neither. She wrote to him and told him that she would not touch his gold. She would never forget him, but she could not be beholden to him now for a crust of bread. She had done no wrong hitherto-so she said, Mrs. Coleman; I only repeat her words-they are not mine. But to live on him after he had left her would be a mortal crime. So they separated, a victim she-both victims, I may say-to this cursed thing we call Society. One of the conditions on which the money was to have been given was, that she should never again recognise him in any way whatever. This half of the bargain she faithfully observed. For some months she was alone, trying to keep herself and her child, but at last she was taken up by a working stone-mason named Legouvé. In 1793 came the Terror, an

said, 'are the

to-mo

nger is the fat

ed you, and you hat

e, I do no

should be spared, my pretty one. We must do our duty.

at I could have rescued him, and that I did not; that I have had my revenge? Besides, what will be said?

is a

er the belief in her for ever that there is such a thing as generosity? You do no

a smile that they had an eloquent advocate. Victorine had warned Couthon not to mention her name, and he kept his promise; but Legouvé conjectured but too truly. He went home, and in a furious rage taxed Victorine with infidelity to him, in favour of the man who had aba

said Zachariah. "I thoug

ghter: I becam

dy was

u are astonished. Well may you be so that such a creature sho

oon afterward

less way; "I am glad to find Manchester does not dis

uite as well as London. Mind, you p

e first landing, and then returned to bid Pauline and Caillaud

m," said Caillaud

" said Pauline, not

eplied, without rel

ine said, "Father, I abhor that woman.

ame moment said, "Zachariah, Pauline and

y n

onished at you! The child of

ople as Caillaud and Pauline would have seemed impossible. Nevertheless, neither Caillaud nor Pauline were now repugnant to him;

again. Just as she was going to sleep, the figure of the Major hovering before her eyes, she suddenly bethought herself that Pauline, if not handsome, was attractive. She start