On the morrow we had an opportunity of going further into the question; for when we rose very early to avoid a sympathising deputation at our departure, we found the hero up before us.  He was breaking his fast on white wine and raw onions, in order to keep up the character of martyr, I conclude.  We had a long conversation, and made out what we wanted in spite of his reserve.  But here was a truly curious circumstance.  It seems possible for two Scotsmen and a Frenchman to discuss during a long half-hour, and each nationality have a different idea in view throughout.  It was not till the very end that we discovered his heresy had been political, or that he suspected our mistake.  The terms and spirit in which he spoke of his political beliefs were, in our eyes, suited to religious beliefs.  And vice versa.

Nothing could be more characteristic of the two countries.  Politics are the religion of France; as Nanty Ewart would have said, ‘A d-d bad religion’; while we, at home, keep most of our bitterness for little differences about a hymn-book, or a Hebrew word which perhaps neither of the parties can translate.  And perhaps the misconception is typical of many others that may never be cleared up:  not only between people of different race, but between those of different sex.

As for our friend’s martyrdom, he was a Communist, or perhaps only a Communard, which is a very different thing; and had lost one or more situations in consequence.  I think he had also been rejected in marriage; but perhaps he had a sentimental way of considering business which deceived me.  He was a mild, gentle creature, anyway; and I hope he has got a better situation, and married a more suitable wife since then.

DOWN THE OISE

TO MOY

Carnival notoriously cheated us at first.  Finding us easy in our ways, he regretted having let us off so cheaply; and taking me aside, told me a cock-and-bull story with the moral of another five francs for the narrator.  The thing was palpably absurd; but I paid up, and at once dropped all friendliness of manner, and kept him in his place as an inferior with freezing British dignity.  He saw in a moment that he had gone too far, and killed a willing horse; his face fell; I am sure he would have refunded if he could only have thought of a decent pretext.  He wished me to drink with him, but I would none of his drinks.  He grew pathetically tender in his professions; but I walked beside him in silence or answered him in stately courtesies; and when we got to the landing-place, passed the word in English slang to the Cigarette.