"Yet that is all you will do, Jacques; for you are weak-minded, and allow yourself to be led away."
"They say it is revolutionary."
"Yes, and they will make an insurgent of you. They will push you on to fight behind a barricade; they will get themselves made Deputies or Ministers, and leave you to be put in irons and sent to die five thousand leagues away, if you are not shot against a wall. It is wrong of you, Jacques, to have allowed yourself to be led into this position; women see further than you—because they are mothers."
All the while she was weeping and talking she was hurriedly making up a bundle of clothes. Then kissing Jacques—holding him in a long embrace—she placed two five-franc pieces in his hand, perhaps the only two left in the house.
"Don't go yet," she said; "I want you to see the children."
But sounds were heard on the stairs—the whisperings of men stealthily ascending.
"The police!" cried Houdaille. "Oh, the brutes!—Adieu! I have no time to lose. Don't be afraid—they won't take me!"
"STRIKING OUT WITH HIS FISTS,"
He opened the door suddenly and darted down the stairs, striking out with his fists, and with such whirling rapidity, that the poor fellows in pursuit of him had nothing but their pains for their labour in the long and fruitless chase which followed.