Later in the day two mounted officers in plain clothes, one of them a captain, whom our friend had served as orderly, called him and an artilleryman out of the ranks, and ordered them to accompany them.  After a devious course through obscure streets of Paris, the officers gave them some money, and ordered them to go into the next street and see if they could procure plain clothes.  Having done so, they returned to the place where their officers had promised to wait for them; but they had disappeared.  This was, in truth, a good-natured ruse to save the lives of the two privates, though at the time it was not so understood.  Not knowing what to do, they attempted to return to their regiments, but at the first outpost they were challenged by the sentry.  They had been away five hours, and the countersign had been changed.  They were arrested, and carried to the nearest mairie.  They were led upstairs and taken before a member of the Commune who was sitting at a table covered with papers, busily writing, surrounded by men of all ranks and uniforms.  On hearing their story, he turned round, and said, in excellent English, “What are you doing here, an Englishman and in plain clothes?” The Englishman had grown angry.  He answered recklessly:  “Yes, I am English, and I have been compelled to serve your Commune.  I don’t know what your name is, or who you are, but I request that you give me a paper to allow me to quit Paris without further molestation.”  The member of the Commune smiled, and answered:  “There is only one thing to be done with you.  Here, sergeant!” And the Englishman and the artilleryman were escorted to the guard-room.  There everything of value was taken from them.  The Englishman lost his watch, his money, and what he valued more, his note-book and papers.  He wore a gold ring, the gift of his mother; and as it was difficult to get off, some of the soldiers proposed amputating the finger.

Next, a species of court-martial was held, which in a few minutes passed sentence that they were to be shot at nine the next morning, for “refusing to serve the Commune!” They had been asked no questions, no evidence had been heard, and no defence had been allowed them.  Says the Englishman,—­

“We were conducted to the Black Hole.  There we found nine others who were to suffer the same fate in the morning.  I was too tired to do anything but throw myself on a filthy mattress, and in a few minutes I was sleeping what I thought was my last sleep on earth.  I was roused at daybreak by a tremendous hammering of my companions on the door of our cell.  I was irritated, and asked angrily why they could not allow those who wished to be quiet to remain so.  They answered by telling me to climb up to the window and look into the courtyard.  I found it strewn with corpses.  The mairie had been evacuated during the night, and it was evident we should not be executed.  In vain we tried to force the door of our cell; all we could do was to make as much noise