Waterloo, 25 August 1857 

Dear Marx, 

My last letter was abruptly broken off because the post was 
leaving. I had meant to tell you about Lupus’ adventures in 
France. He had neither time nor money enough to stop in 
London and therefore travelled straight through to Manchester, 
arriving with 2/- in his pocket. At Lille he was spotted by the 
French police and from then on they harried him. With his usual 
luck he arrived slap in the middle of the elections and a nice little 
assassination plot. He went to a small hotel near the Louvre, 
intending to visit Versailles. On this trip 2 ‘mouchards* took 
possession of him, pushed their way into his carriage both on the 
way there and on the way back, and never let him out of their 
sight. Back at the hotel two mouchards, one an Alsatian Jew, sat at 
his table while he ate supper, and passed remarks about him in 
German, French and broken English. *“That chap eats with much 
appetite and his head is not worth a farthing. The telegraphic 
despatch has just arrived’,*” etc. Lupus kept mum—compelled, of 
course, by his bad political conscience, else he’d have been 
dragged off to clink and made to establish in the Préfecture what 
kind of a wolf he was—and drowned his anger in drink, after 
which he went up to his room and stationed himself by the 
window— au premier.© From there he caught sight of his Versailles 
friends in the gateway. The gang, growing ever larger, shouted 
loud remarks to him while their chief parleyed with the landlady. 
Subsequently the fellows took over the whole house and roistered 
and caroused half the night through. They occupied the rooms 
above and to the left and right of Lupus who, as you can imagine, 
was in a fine stsew—on top of which it was stiflingly hot. The 
fellows woke him early in the morning, banging on the walls on 
either side and dragging tables, beds, etc., etc., across the floor 

4 police spies - > In the original this sentence occurs twice: in English, as given here, 
Utes eae ng arene aye ees a 
and, prior to this, in the Alsatian dialect: ‘Un was der Kerl noch mit einem Appetit 

fresse kann, un sei Kopp is doch nit e Pfennig wert.’ - © on the first floor 

above so that he almost took leave of his senses. Presently Lupus 
plucked up sufficient courage to visit the w.c. The Jew and his 
mate were sitting on the stairs and in a loud voice the Jew said 
‘The fellow’s going for a shit now’. He ordered breakfast in his 
room and inquired when the train left for Strasbourg. One by one 
the fellows disappeared, for it was the day of the by-elections and 
they had achieved their aim of hounding Lupus out of Paris. Once 
again his Versailles friend was on the train and accompanied him 
in the same carriage as far as the fourth or fifth station, where 
another man took over. So conspicuously did the fellows push 
their way into the packed carriage that a French _philistine 
jocularly remarked: ‘I! y a donc un criminel parmi nous?” In this 
way he was escorted to Lyons, the Versailles chap having 
reappeared on the steamer from Chalons on the Sa6ne. At Lyons 
Lupus went to the first hotel but discovered that waiters and all 
were on the pay-roll, pointed him out and notified the chaps by 
telegraph when he was arriving. Whenever he left the room the 
waiter gave a whistle while the man in the office shouted out: ‘Le 
voila!”, whereupon he was compelled to pass in review before the 
mouchard élite. They continued to harry him on the train to 
Seyssel as far as the point at which a line branches off in the 
direction of Plombiéres, where Mr Bonaparte happened to be. 
From then on, as soon as they saw that he was not going to 
Plombiéres, Lupus was free. On the return journey he wasn’t 
harried at all. 

One can see what Mr Bonaparte has set in train with the Société 
du dix Décembre.* There is no mistaking the types, particularly 
as regards their roistering and the playful manner in which they 
make life a misery for suspects visiting Paris. Had Lupus not left, 
one of them would probably have started a brawl so as to have a 
pretext for taking him to the Préfecture. Just imagine how many 
chaps must be on the pay-roll if an entire cohort can be set on 
to Lupus, who is comparatively unknown to them. And then 
the roping in of landlords, waiters, soots, etc. etc., as collabo- 
rators. 

1 have just been bathing again which, while generally most 
invigorating and refreshing, seems at first rather to aggravate the 
inflammation. But that was only to be expected. On the whole I 
feel very well and the sores don’t trouble me much. My old man is 
probably in Manchester by now; I shall know definitely tomorrow, 

2 Is there a criminal among us then? - > There he is! 

in which case I shall at once go to Manchester and then, within a 
few days, to a more bracing seaside resort, possibly the Isle of 
Man. So write to Manchester in the meantime. As soon as I’m 
completely recovered and no longer require such regular sea- 
bathing I intend to take a sea trip, probably by steamer via Dublin 
to Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight, where we could hold 
a council of war together. But that will depend on circum- 
stances. 

‘Army’ is making progress; Antiquity is done, Middle Ages will 
be short and then modern times. However, Antiquity alone will 
run to 6 or 7 pages; I shall have to see what further deletions can 
be made. But we can’t be bound too strictly by Mr Dana’s conditions. 
It won’t be possible to let you have the thing by Friday because of 
the disruption caused by my old man—but by Tuesday, I 
hope. Apropos, hasn’t Dana said anything at all about the 
manuscripts or the list for B? Why, I wonder? It would certainly be 
curious if one were not to hear anything at all from him. Kindest 
regards. 

Your 
F. E.