All Paris seemed up that morning, hurrying to the scene of the day's
wonder. There was a rumour of fighting in the streets, of guns being
pointed against the sacred doors of the Convention, of tyrants fallen
and heads to fall. To Paris, sick of blood and strained by terror, it
seemed like the end of all things, and the people with one accord rushed
eastward to witness the dawn of their new revolution.
I, who had had enough of revolutions, wandered disconsolately westward
along the river-bank till the rush was over and the sounds behind me
grew faint in the distance. Where next? I asked myself. Whether
Citizen Robespierre fell or not, there was not much quarter to be hoped
for by a runaway from the Conciergerie. Paris was a rat-trap still, and
though large, I should be cornered sooner or later.
As I ruminated thus, I came to a bridge below which was moored a barge,
laden with goods and spread over with its great waterproof sheet, ready
to drop down the stream. How I envied the two men in charge of her, to
whom the barrier of the city would offer no obstacle, and who were free
to go in and out of the rat-trap as they pleased!
Apparently they were not so sensible of their good fortune as I was, for
they were quarrelling angrily, and filling the air with their insults
and recriminations.
"Villain! robber!" I heard one say, who seemed to be assistant to the
other, "I demand what is due to me."
"It will be paid you at Rouen, fool," said the other.
"I shall not be there to receive it," snarled the other. "I will have
it here, or nowhere."
"What, you will dare to desert! It is treason against the Republic whom
we serve. I will denounce you."
"Idiot, I defy you," exclaimed the man, stripping off his jersey and
flinging his red cap on the deck. "I spit on your Republic which does
not pay its debts!"
"I promise you shall receive all arrears at Rouen," replied the other.
"I am under penalties to reach Havre in a week."
The mutineer laughed savagely.
"Pay me what you owe me, and you shall reach it."
"At Rouen," persisted the skipper.
"No! here, I tell you."
The skipper's reply was to make a grab at his companion, who, however,
was quick enough to elude him and jump ashore.
"There, thief and robber, villain and assassin, I wash my hands of you!
I have done with you. Reach Havre when you like. Adieu!" and he spat
at the barge.
The skipper looked as if he would have followed him, but thought better
of it. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled out a cigar. The other,
after standing insultingly on the bank for some minutes, heaping all
sorts of imprecations and taunts on his late employer, swaggered away,
and was presently caught up in a knot of belated sightseers hastening to
the scene of the insurrection.