Another quarter of an hour went by. Petite maman and Rosette had hardly
moved. The shadows of evening were creeping into the narrow room,
blurring the outlines of the pieces of furniture and wrapping all the
corners in gloom.
The sergeant had ordered Rosette to bring in a lamp. This she had done,
placing it upon the table so that the feeble light glinted upon the belt
and buckles of the sergeant and upon the tricolour cockade which was
pinned to his hat. Petite maman had thought and thought until she could
think no more.
Anon there was much commotion on the stairs; heavy footsteps were heard
ascending from below, then crossing the corridors on the various
landings. The silence which reigned otherwise in the house, and which
had fallen as usual on the squalid little street, void of traffic at
this hour, caused those footsteps to echo with ominous power.
Petite maman felt her heart beating so vigorously that she could hardly
breathe. She pressed her wrinkled hands tightly against her bosom.
There were the quick words of command, alas! so familiar in France just
now, the cruel, peremptory words that invariably preceded an arrest,
preliminaries to the dragging of some wretched--often wholly
harmless--creature before a tribunal that knew neither pardon nor mercy.
The sergeant, who had become drowsy in the close atmosphere of the tiny
room, roused himself at the sound and jumped to his feet. The door was
thrown open by the men stationed outside even before the authoritative
words, "Open! in the name of the Republic!" had echoed along the narrow
corridor.
The sergeant stood at attention and quickly lifted his hand to his
forehead in salute. A fresh squad of some half-dozen men of the
Republican Guard stood in the doorway; they were under the command of an
officer of high rank, a rough, uncouth, almost bestial-looking creature,
with lank hair worn the fashionable length under his greasy
chapeau-bras, and unkempt beard round an ill-washed and bloated face.
But he wore the tricolour sash and badge which proclaimed him one of the
military members of the Sectional Committee of Public Safety, and the
sergeant, who had been so overbearing with the women just now, had
assumed a very humble and even obsequious manner.
"You sent for a general order to the sectional Committee," said the
new-comer, turning abruptly to the sergeant after he had cast a quick,
searching glance round the room, hardly condescending to look on petite
maman and Rosette, whose very souls were now gazing out of their
anguish-filled eyes.
"I did, citizen commandant," replied the sergeant.
"I am not a commandant," said the other curtly. "My name is Rouget,
member of the Convention and of the Committee of Public Safety. The
sectional Committee to whom you sent for a general order of search
thought that you had blundered somehow, so they sent me to put things
right."
"I am not aware that I committed any blunder, citizen," stammered the
sergeant dolefully. "I could not take the responsibility of making a
domiciliary search all through the house. So I begged for fuller
orders."
"And wasted the Committee's time and mine by such nonsense," retorted
Rouget harshly. "Every citizen of the Republic worthy of the name should
know how to act on his own initiative when the safety of the nation
demands it."
"I did not know--I did not dare--" murmured the sergeant, obviously
cowed by this reproof, which had been delivered in the rough,
overbearing tones peculiar to these men who, one and all, had risen from
the gutter to places of importance and responsibility in the
newly-modelled State.
"Silence!" commanded the other peremptorily. "Don't waste any more of my
time with your lame excuses. You have failed in zeal and initiative.
That's enough. What else have you done? Have you got the man Lenegre?"
"No, citizen. He is not in hiding here, and his wife and daughter will
not give us any information about him."
"That is their look-out," retorted Rouget with a harsh laugh. "If they
give up Lenegre of their own free will the law will deal leniently with
them, and even perhaps with him. But if we have to search the house for
him, then it means the guillotine for the lot of them."
He had spoken these callous words without even looking on the two
unfortunate women; nor did he ask them any further questions just then,
but continued speaking to the sergeant:
"And what about the Englishman? The sectional Committee sent down some
spies this morning to be on the look-out for him on or about this house.
Have you got him?"
"Not yet, citizen. But--"
"Ah ca, citizen sergeant," broke in the other brusquely, "meseems that
your zeal has been even more at fault than I had supposed. Have you done
anything at all, then, in the matter of Lenegre or the Englishman?"
"I have told you, citizen," retorted the sergeant sullenly, "that I
believe Lenegre to be still in this house. At any rate, he had not gone
out of it an hour ago--that's all I know. And I wanted to search the
whole of this house, as I am sure we should have found him in one of the
other apartments. These people are all friends together, and will always
help each other to evade justice. But the Englishman was no concern of
mine. The spies of the Committee were ordered to watch for him, and when
they reported to me I was to proceed with the arrest. I was not set to
do any of the spying work. I am a soldier, and obey my orders when I get
them."
"Very well, then, you'd better obey them now, citizen sergeant," was
Rouget's dry comment on the other man's surly explanation, "for you seem
to have properly blundered from first to last, and will be hard put to
it to redeem your character. The Republic, remember, has no use for
fools."
The sergeant, after this covert threat, thought it best, apparently, to
keep his tongue, whilst Rouget continued, in the same aggressive,
peremptory tone:
"Get on with your domiciliary visits at once. Take your own men with
you, and leave me the others. Begin on this floor, and leave your sentry
at the front door outside. Now let me see your zeal atoning for your
past slackness. Right turn! Quick march!"
Then it was that petite maman spoke out. She had thought and thought,
and now she knew what she ought to do; she knew that that cruel, inhuman
wretch would presently begin his tramp up and down corridors and stairs,
demanding admittance at every door, entering every apartment. She knew
that the man who had saved her Pierre's life was in hiding somewhere in
the house--that he would be found and dragged to the guillotine, for she
knew that the whole governing body of this abominable Revolution was
determined not to allow that hated Englishman to escape again.
She was old and feeble, small and thin--that's why everyone called her
petite maman--but once she knew what she ought to do, then her spirit
overpowered the weakness of her wizened body.
Now she knew, and even while that arrogant member of an execrated
murdering Committee was giving final instructions to the sergeant,
petite maman said, in a calm, piping voice:
"No need, citizen sergeant, to go and disturb all my friends and
neighbours. I'll tell you where my husband is."
In a moment Rouget had swung round on his heel, a hideous gleam of
satisfaction spread over his grimy face, and he said, with an ugly
sneer:
"So! you have thought better of it, have you? Well, out with it! You'd
better be quick about it if you want to do yourselves any good."
"I have my daughter to think of," said petite maman in a feeble,
querulous way, "and I won't have all my neighbours in this house made
unhappy because of me. They have all been kind neighbours. Will you
promise not to molest them and to clear the house of soldiers if I tell
you where Lenegre is?"
"The Republic makes no promises," replied Rouget gruffly. "Her citizens
must do their duty without hope of a reward. If they fail in it, they
are punished. But privately I will tell you, woman, that if you save us
the troublesome and probably unprofitable task of searching this
rabbit-warren through and through, it shall go very leniently with you
and with your daughter, and perhaps--I won't promise, remember--perhaps
with your husband also."
"Very good, citizen," said petite maman calmly. "I am ready."
"Ready for what?" he demanded.
"To take you to where my husband is in hiding."
"Oho! He is not in the house, then?"
"No."
"Where is he, then?"
"In the Rue Ste. Anne. I will take you there."
Rouget cast a quick, suspicious glance on the old woman, and exchanged
one of understanding with the sergeant.
"Very well," he said after a slight pause. "But your daughter must come
along too. Sergeant," he added, "I'll take three of your men with me; I
have half a dozen, but it's better to be on the safe side. Post your
fellows round the outer door, and on my way to the Rue Ste. Anne I will
leave word at the gendarmerie that a small reinforcement be sent on to
you at once. These can be here in five minutes; until then you are quite
safe."
Then he added under his breath, so that the women should not hear: "The
Englishman may still be in the house. In which case, hearing us depart,
he may think us all gone and try to give us the slip. You'll know what
to do?" he queried significantly.
"Of course, citizen," replied the sergeant.
"Now, then, citizeness--hurry up."
Once more there was tramping of heavy feet on stone stairs and
corridors. A squad of soldiers of the Republican Guard, with two women
in their midst, and followed by a member of the Committee of Public
Safety, a sergeant, corporal and two or three more men, excited much
anxious curiosity as they descended the steep flights of steps from the
fifth floor.
Pale, frightened faces peeped shyly through the doorways at sound of the
noisy tramp from above, but quickly disappeared again at sight of the
grimy scarlet facings and tricolour cockades.
The sergeant and three soldiers remained stationed at the foot of the
stairs inside the house. Then citizen Rouget roughly gave the order to
proceed. It seemed strange that it should require close on a dozen men
to guard two women and to apprehend one old man, but as the member of
the Committee of Public Safety whispered to the sergeant before he
finally went out of the house: "The whole thing may be a trap, and one
can't be too careful. The Englishman is said to be very powerful; I'll
get the gendarmerie to send you another half-dozen men, and mind you
guard the house until my return."