west seem steeped in a ruddy mist, whilst the good seed falls in golden
dust over the left bank and the populous districts eastward. It is there,
is it not, that the crop will spring up?"

They had all drawn near, and were smiling at the symbol. As Marie had
said, it seemed indeed that while the sun slowly sank behind the lacework
of clouds, the sower of eternal life scattered his flaming seed with a
rhythmical swing of the arm, ever selecting the districts of toil and
effort. One dazzling handful of grain fell over yonder on the district of
the schools; and then yet another rained down to fertilise the district
of the factories and work-shops.

"Ah! well," said Guillaume gaily. "May the crop soon sprout from the good
ground of our great Paris, which has been turned up by so many
revolutions, and enriched by the blood of so many workers! It is the only
ground in the world where Ideas can germinate and bloom. Yes, yes, Pierre
is quite right, it is the sun sowing Paris with the seed of the future
world, which can sprout only up here!"

Then Thomas, Francois and Antoine, who stood behind their father in a
row, nodded as if to say that this was also their own conviction; whilst
Mere-Grand gazed afar with dreamy eyes as though she could already behold
the splendid future.

"Ah! but it is only a dream; centuries must elapse. We shall never see
it!" murmured Pierre with a quiver.

"But others will!" cried Marie. "And does not that suffice?"

Those lofty words stirred Pierre to the depths of his being. And all at