The Marquis had changed considerably for the worse in his appearance. Six years before he had been of superb figure and handsome face, and dressed with military elegance. Now, he was red and bloated and slouchy and dirty. His voice had once been sweet and persuasive. Now, it was a bellow of rage and drink, but enough sense was left amid his degradation yet to do some harm to his fellow-men, and the barricade would have been a credit to an engineer.
Many persons had warned Diane to leave her house and seek refuge somewhere else, but this she refused. Now it was too late. For any woman to show herself was to court death and horrors unspeakable.
Against a house on the opposite side of the street was piled wood enough to start a fire when the Communards were ready, for, if they could no longer defend a point, they set fire to the surrounding buildings. Meanwhile, the real French soldiers rigidly carried out their plan to surround and overwhelm the Communards without destroying the city, and ever the cordon tightened. On this May morning it drew closer around the barricaded spot, and there was fighting in the near-by street. But seeing the danger of fire, the French commander in that quarter played a waiting game.
In the afternoon the day grew dark, and in the evening came a small, fine rain with the darkness. An adventurous young officer tried to carry the barricade under the cover of night, but Colonel Egmont, as the Marquis now called himself, had enough of the devil’s wit left in him to drive off the attacking party.
Diane, peering through the chinks of a closed jalousie, saw in the darkness the red-legged soldiers retiring, carrying off with them a couple of dead men and some wounded ones. In the dense shadows, however, two French soldiers remained who were not missed. One was a small man lying flat on his face with a bullet wound through his leg and another in his shoulder. The other was a big man with blood dripping from the back of his neck, who scrambled to his feet and knelt over the little man whose head rested against the tall iron door that led into Diane’s garden. In a minute or two the door was softly opened and Diane whispered:
“Come in quickly before you are seen. There is a cellar to the house where you can be safe for a little while, at least.”