"They'll charge those howling Belleville anarchists!"

Clifford began, in pure deviltry, to whistle the Carmagnole.

"Do you want to get us all into hot water?" whispered Thaxton.

"Monsieur is of the Commune?" inquired a little man, suavely.

And, the devil still prompting Clifford, he answered: "Because I
whistled the Carmagnole? Bah!"

The man scowled.

"Look here, my friend," said Clifford, "my political principles are
yours, and I will be happy to drink at your expense."

The other Americans exchanged looks, and Elliott tried to check
Clifford's folly before it was too late.

"Espion!" muttered the Frenchman, adding, a little louder, "Sale
Allemand!"

Gethryn looked up startled.

"Keep cool," whispered Thaxton; "if they think we're Germans we're
done for."

Carleton glanced nervously about. "How they stare," he whispered.
"Their eyes pop out of their heads as if they saw Bismarck."