Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1894-01-12

ton with fiery eyes. She looked yonder to-
wards the towers of Notre Dame, towards
the Quai DIES Augustines, and the labyrinth
of little streets behind those old roofs.
mot much chance of welded bliss for
those two now" she said to herself Their
honeymoon was short; but her misery shall
be long. She and her sister are shut in
their lodgings, expecting to be burnt alive
every hour; and he Is i'll prlson-what prison,
wonder?"
The woman was Suzon Michel, and the
man Of whom she was thinking as she stood
at ease by her gun, waiting to do her part,
as a strong-minded woman and patriot, IN
the slaughter of the priests, was CASTOR
Mortemar.
Since his arrest she had been able b learn
nothing about him. She had been told by
her friends the Communards that he had
been arrested on account of something he
had written in his paper. More than this
they would not or could not tellher. There
were so many prisons in Paris, all teeming
with life, like beehives; there were such in
Vulnerable arrests. People hardly cared TO
inquire why their neighbOrs were carried off,
or whittier. Human feelings, friendship,
brotherly lovo were apt to become deadened
in that pandemOnium.
Since the week Of fighting and fires began,
Suzon had been in the thick of all the strife.
She had carried her can Of petroleum as
bravely as any of those bearded ruffians
who pretended to make light of her services.
She had helped in the fires, she had helped
in the carnage, like the very spirit of evil.
1t was not arson, it was not murder 1t was
only justice, an eye for an eye.
'They are killing our brothers and friends
l,,f,, Il,
down new victims.
Mercy at such time would be cOwardice.
Only craven would hold his hand when
there was such grand choace of avenging
the wrongs of nobody in particular.
Suzon was drunk with blood, half-blinded
by fire. Those flashing eyes OF hers, bright
as they were, saw all things dimly, through
a fiery haze.
The priests-yes, she would help to slaugh-
ter them; not because she knew anything
about this particular brood of cdlOtiHS, but
because she hated all priests. They had
done her no wrong; but her pious neighbor5
had despised her for keeping away from
church; they had thrown their religion in
her face; they had scorned her for her inf
deity.
Beware of that womanw said an Old
man NllOll ollt Hdh btl'llhNhs llN hOlllill
who never crosses the threshold of church
Belongs % venOmOus Species"
Yes, she would help in the good work.
How the earth shivered under that awful
vamnonade! Inc enemy was at the door;
nearer and nearer came the thunder OF the
guns, The deadly rain from the mitrail-
leuSes came fast as the heavy drops OF
thunder shower. The afternoon sun looked
n 10 L., Mo
the smoke. The circle was narrowing, mar
rowing, narrowing, closing in upon them
like a ring of fire. Whom would they spare,
those Versaillas devils? Not one. Universal
carnage would change the streets of Paris
TO rivers of blood lit by a city in flames.
Not life, not house would be spared.
Let us beginp shrieked SuZon, beside
herself; "let us work with such good viii
that there shall be nothing left for those
others to do"
"Are you ready?' asked Serizier, facing
the door of the prison. with his assass rs
ranged on either side Of him.
mo one of them shall escape, my gener-
al" answered Suzon, grasping her gun.
Her voice was hoarse and rough, like his
own. From head TO heel, mind, soul, body,
the creature had unsexed herself; and these
iHCll-NOHltll NtIB NNtil IlOlb ohNd-O AlhAA
the devil-men of those days, for they
thought their infamy herosm and their
cruelty courage. Not one of these furies,
waving her petrOleWL-can, shouldering her
chassepot, but fancied herself a modern
Maid of Orleans.
And now the victims were driven into the
street like sheep to the saughter-house.
Pass, one by one" cried Bobeche the
oron1ar no ha1 old hty "a
hand.
Was it not well for the boys to see tho
tonsured heads laid low? 1t is thus France
Fears her patriOts-young Romans sucked
by the wolf Revolution.
The Dominicans, the school-servnnts, the
| Journalist crossed the fatal threshold. The
first to pass was Father COtraut, and, at the
| third step, he fell, struck by bullet.
The Prior turned to his companions.
'Come, my friends, for the love Of Cod"
he said, in his mid voice; and he and his
little train rushed into the open, AMI ran
athwart the rain of bullets.
Suzon flung herself into the midst of the
road, at the risk of being shot down in the
| melee. She loaded and reloaded her chasse-
pot crying, towards, cowardsl they are
| running awayP'
1t was not butchery, but bdttlie. The
poor human game tried to flee, hid itself be-
hind the trees, slipped along under the lee
Of the houses. Women at open windows
clapped their hands and shrieked with joy
as they watched tho nport; in the street men
shook their fists nj the victims; the scene
was alive with insult and laughter, voices
that sounded like the bowling Of furious
beasts. 1t was a new carnival Of flowers
and sugar-plums; only the flowers were in
suit and outrage, the sugar-plums were bull
lets.
Some of the more active gained the side
streets, and escaped the leaden shower.
Five Of the priests, seven Of the school-ser-
wants. were shot down in o heap before the
4 Cbapelle Brea.
Fire, fire upon themp' cried Serizier.
when a convuIsIvo movement showed that
life still throbbed amidst this mass of death,
and one poor bleeding form that had family
stirred received thirty-one bullets.
&c.," cried Suzon, as Mortemar, slender
active, 1.-THE, with youth and vigor on his
side, sped lightly along the boulevard and
vanished at a distant turning, "there goes
one that will cheat usr'
She rushed off in pursuit of him, breath