GENEVIÈVE.
A quarter of an hour elapsed, which seemed a century to Maurice.
Nothing more natural; young, handsome, vigorous, supported in his
strength by a hundred devoted friends, in combination with whom he
sometimes dreamed of the accomplishment of great achievements, he found
himself all at once without the least preparation in peril of losing
his life in an ignominious den of assassins.
He understood that they had shut him up in some chamber; but was he
watched?
Again he struggled to break his bonds. His muscles of steel swelled and
contracted; the cord cut into his flesh, but did not break.
The most terrible thing was that his hands were fastened behind his
back so that he could not remove the bandage from his eyes. If he could
only see, he might escape.
As he had made these attempts to free himself without opposition,
without anything stirring around him, he concluded that he was alone.
The ground under his feet was soft and soundless, might be gravel or
perhaps clay. An acrid and pungent smell announced the presence of
vegetable matter. Maurice fancied he was in a greenhouse, or some place
very like it. He took a step or two, hit the wall, turned, and groping
with his hands, felt some garden-tools. He uttered an exclamation of
joy.
With unparalleled exertion he examined these tools, one after the
other. His flight now became a question of time. If chance, or
Providence, granted him five minutes, and if among these tools he found
a sharp instrument, he was saved.
He found a spade. From the way in which Maurice was bound, it required
a great struggle to raise the spade a sufficient height for his
purpose. He at length succeeded, and upon the blade of the spade which
he supported against the wall with his back, he at last cut, or rather
wore away, the cord which confined his wrists. The operation was
tedious, the iron cut slowly. The perspiration streamed from his face;
he heard a noise as of some one approaching; with a tremendous effort
the cord, half-severed, broke. He could not help giving a cry of joy;
now at least he was sure to die in defending himself.
Maurice tore the bandage from his eyes.
He had not been mistaken; he found himself not in a greenhouse, but
in a kind of pavilion used as a receptacle for the more delicate
plants unable to outlive the winter in the open air. In a corner the
gardening implements were stowed away, one of which had been the means
of rendering him so important a service. Facing him was a window; he
rushed toward it; it was grated, and a man armed with a carbine placed
sentinel before it.
On the other side of the garden, about thirty paces distant, rose a
small turret, fellow to the one where Maurice remained prisoner. The
blind was down, but through the blind a light was visible.
He approached the door and listened; another sentinel paced to and fro
before this door. These were the footsteps he had heard.
But from the end of the corridor a confusion of voices resounded. The
deliberation had evidently degenerated into disputation. Maurice could
not hear distinctly what was said; some words, however, reached him,
and amid these words--as if for them only the distance was short--he
distinguished plainly, Spy! Poniard! Death!
Maurice redoubled his attention; a door opened, and he heard more
distinctly.
"Yes," said one voice, "he is assuredly a spy; he has discovered
something, and is certainly sent to take us and our secret unawares. In
freeing him we run the risk of his denouncing us."
"But his word," said a voice.
"His word--he will give it only to betray us. Is he a gentleman that we
should trust his word?"
Maurice ground his teeth at the idea which some folks still retained,
that only a gentleman could keep his oath.
"But he does not know us; how can he denounce us?"
"No; he certainly does not know us nor our occupation, but he knows the
address, and will return; next time he will be well accompanied."
This argument appeared conclusive.
"Then," said the voice which several times already had struck Maurice
as belonging to the chief, "it is decided."
"Yes, a hundred times yes; I do not comprehend you with your
magnanimity. My good sir, if the Committee for the Public Safety caught
us, you would see if they acted toward us with so much ceremony."
"You persist, then, in your decision, gentlemen?"
"Without doubt, and you are not, we hope, going to oppose it."
"I have only one voice, gentlemen; it has been in favor of his
liberation: you possess six, and they all vote for his death. Let it,
then, be death."
Maurice felt the blood freeze in his veins.
"Of course he will howl," said a voice; "have you removed Madame
Dixmer?"
"Madame Dixmer!" murmured Maurice; "I begin now to comprehend. I am in
the house of the master-tanner who spoke to me in the old Rue Saint
Jacques, and who went away laughing because I was unable to tell him
the name of my friend. But how can it be to his interest to assassinate
me?"
Looking round, Maurice perceived an iron stake with a handle of
ash-tree wood.
"In any case," said he, "before they assassinate me, I will kill more
than one of them."
And he sprang to secure this harmless instrument, which, in his hand,
was to become a formidable weapon. He then retired behind the door,
and so placed himself that he could see without being seen. His heart
beat so tumultuously that in the deep silence its palpitations might be
heard. Suddenly Maurice shuddered from head to foot. A voice had said,--
"If you act according to my advice, you will break a pane, and through
the bars kill him with a shot from a carbine."
"Oh, no, no!--not an explosion," said another voice, "that might betray
us. Besides, Dixmer, there is your wife."
"I have just looked at her through the blind; she suspects nothing--she
is reading."
"Dixmer, you shall decide for us. Do you advocate a shot from the
carbine, or a stroke from the poniard?"
"Avoid firearms as much as possible--the poniard."
"Then let it be the poniard. Come!"
"Come!" repeated five or six voices, together.
Maurice was a child of the Revolution, with a heart of flint, and in
mind, like many others at that epoch, an atheist. But at the word
"Come!" pronounced behind the door, which alone separated him from
death, he remembered the sign of the cross, which his mother had taught
him when an infant he said his prayers at her knee.
Steps approached, stopped; then the key turned in the lock, and the
door slowly opened.
During this fleeting moment, Maurice had said to himself,--
"If I do not strike at once, I am a dead man. If I throw myself upon
the assassins, I take them unawares--gain first the garden, then the
street, and am saved!"
Immediately, with the spring of a lion, and uttering a fierce cry which
savored more of menace than terror, he threw down the first two men,
who believing him bound and blindfolded were quite unprepared for such
an assault, scattered the others, took a tremendous leap over them,
thanks to his iron muscles, saw at the end of the corridor a door
leading into the garden wide open, rushed toward it, cleared at a bound
six steps, found himself in the garden, and guessing his whereabouts as
nearly as possible, rushed toward the gate. It was secured by a lock
and a couple of bolts. Maurice drew back the bolts, tried to open the
lock; but it had no key.
In the mean time his pursuers, who had reached the steps, perceived him.
"There he is!" cried they; "fire upon him, Dixmer, fire! Kill him--kill
him!"
Maurice uttered a groan; he was enclosed in the garden; he measured
the walls with his eye--they were ten feet in height.
All this passed in a moment. The assassins rushed forward in pursuit.
Maurice was about thirty paces in advance; he looked about him with
the air of a condemned man who seeks the shadow of a chance to save
himself. He perceived the turret, the blind, and behind the blind the
light.
He made but one bound,--a bound of six feet,--seized the blind, tore it
down, passed through the window, smashing it, and alighted in a chamber
where a lady sat reading.
The lady rose terrified, calling for help.
"Stand aside, Geneviève; stand aside!" cried the voice of Dixmer,
"stand aside that I may kill him!"
And Maurice saw the carbine levelled at him.
But scarcely had the woman looked at him than she uttered a frightful
cry, and instead of standing aside, as desired by her husband, rushed
between him and the barrel of the gun.
This movement concentrated all Maurice's attention on the generous
woman, whose first impulse was to protect him from danger and death.
In his turn he uttered a cry of astonishment.
It was the unknown whom he had so eagerly sought.
"You!" he exclaimed, "you--"
"Silence!" cried she.
Then, turning toward the assassins, who, variously armed, approached
the window,--
"Ah! you will not kill him!" cried she.
"He is a spy," said Dixmer, whose usually placid countenance had
assumed an expression of stern resolution,--"he is a spy, and therefore
must die."
"A spy--he!" said Geneviève; "he a spy! Come here, Dixmer; I need only
say one word to prove that you are strangely deceived."
Dixmer and Geneviève approached the window, and in a low voice she
uttered a few words.
The master-tanner raised his head quickly.
"He!" said he.
"He himself," said Geneviève.
"You are certain, quite certain?"
This time the young woman did not reply, but smiling held out her hand
to Maurice.
The features of Dixmer now assumed a singular expression of coolness
and gentleness. He rested the butt-end of his musket on the ground.
"This is quite another thing," said he.
Then making a sign to his companions to follow, he stepped aside with
them, and after saying a few words, they disappeared.
"Conceal that ring," murmured Geneviève; "it is known by every one
here."
Maurice quickly drew the ring from his finger, and slipped it into his
waistcoat-pocket.
A moment afterward the door of the pavilion opened, and Dixmer,
unarmed, advanced toward Maurice.
"Pardon me, Citizen," said he, "that I did not know sooner the
obligation I am under to you. My wife, while retaining a grateful
remembrance of the service you rendered her on the 10th of March, had
forgotten your name. We were therefore completely in ignorance with
whom we were concerned; otherwise, believe me, we should not for a
moment have entertained suspicion either of your honor or intentions. I
therefore again ask your pardon."
Maurice was bewildered; with the greatest difficulty he preserved his
equilibrium; he felt his head turn round, and was near falling. He
supported himself against the mantel-piece.
"Why on earth did you wish to kill me?" he asked.
"This is the secret, Citizen," said Dixmer; "I confide it to your
keeping. I am, as you already know, a tanner, and principal in this
concern. The greater part of the acids I employ in the preparation
of my skins are prohibited goods. Now the smugglers have received
intelligence of an information laid before the counsel-general. I
feared you were an informer. My smugglers were more alarmed than myself
at your _bonnet-rouge_ and formidable appearance, and I do not conceal
from you that your death was resolved upon."
"_Pardieu!_ and well I know it," said Maurice; "you tell me no news. I
heard your consultation, and have seen your carbine."
"I have already apologized," said Dixmer, in a tone of marked kindness.
"You must understand that, thanks to the unsettled state of the times,
myself and partner, Monsieur Morand, are likely to realize an immense
fortune. We have the furnishing of the military bags, and finish from
fifteen hundred to two thousand each day. Owing to this blessed state
of things in which we live, the municipality are much occupied, and
have not time strictly to examine our accounts, so that it must be
confessed we fish a little in troubled waters; the more so because,
as I have already told you, the preparatory materials we procure by
smuggling allow us to gain two hundred per cent."
"The devil!" said Maurice, "that appears to me an honest living enough,
and I can now understand your dread lest a denunciation on my part
should put an end to it; but now you know me, you fear me no longer. Is
it not so?"
"Now," said Dixmer, "I do not even ask your word of honor." Then,
placing his hand on his shoulder and smiling, "As it is only between
friends," said he, "may I inquire what brought you here, young man? But
of course, if you wish to keep it secret, you are perfectly at liberty
to do so."
"I have already told you, I believe," murmured Maurice.
"Yes, a woman," said the burgess; "I know there was something about a
woman."
"_Mon Dieu!_ excuse me, Citizen, I am aware some sort of explanation
is due to you. Well, then, I sought a female, who the other evening,
disguised, told me she resided in this quarter. I neither know her
name, position, or place of abode. I only know I am madly in love with
her, that she is short--"
Geneviève was tall.
"That she is fair, and of a lively temperament."
Geneviève was a brunette, with large pensive eyes.
"A grisette, in short," continued Maurice; "so to please her, I assumed
the popular dress."
"That explains all," said Dixmer, with a faith which a sly wink did not
belie.
Geneviève colored, and feeling herself blush, turned away.
"Poor Citizen Lindey," said Dixmer, laughing; "what a miserable evening
we have caused you to pass! and you are about the last I would wish to
injure, so excellent a patriot, a brother; but, in short, I believed
some confounded spy had usurped your name."
"Let us say no more on the subject," said Maurice, who knew it was time
for him to withdraw; "put me on my road, and let us forget--"
"Put you on your road!" exclaimed Dixmer; "let you leave us! no indeed,
not yet. I give--or rather my partner and myself give--a supper
to-night to those brave fellows who wished so much to slaughter you a
little while ago. I reckon upon your supping with them, that you may
see they are not such devils as they appear to be."
"But," said Maurice, overjoyed at the thought of being for a few hours
near Geneviève, "I do not know really if I ought to accept--"
"If you ought to accept!" said Dixmer; "I know you ought; these are
good and stanch patriots like yourself. Besides, I shall not consider
that you have forgiven me unless we break bread together."
Geneviève uttered not a word. Maurice was in torment.
"The fact is," stammered Maurice, "I fear I may be a constraint upon
you, Citizen--this dress--my ungentlemanly appearance--"
Geneviève looked timidly toward him.
"We invite you in all kindness," said she.
"I accept your invitation, Citizen," said he, bowing.
"I will go and secure our companions," said Dixmer; "in the mean time,
warm yourself, my dear sir."
He went out. Maurice and Geneviève remained alone.
"Ah, Monsieur!" said the young woman, in an accent to which she in vain
tried to convey a tone of reproach, "you have failed in your word; you
have been exceedingly indiscreet."
"Madame," cried Maurice, "have I in any way compromised you? Ah! in
that case, pardon me; I will retire, and never--"
"Goodness!" said she, rising, "you are wounded in the breast; your
shirt is stained with blood."
Indeed, upon the fine, white shirt of Maurice--a shirt forming a
strange contrast to his coarser clothes--a large red spot of blood had
spread itself, and had dried there.
"Do not be under any alarm, Madame," said the young man, "one of the
smugglers pricked me with his poniard."
Geneviève turned pale, and taking his hand,--
"Forgive me," said she, "the wrong that has been done you; you saved my
life, and I have nearly caused your death."
"Am I not sufficiently recompensed in finding you? You cannot for a
moment imagine it was for another that I sought."
"Come with me," said Geneviève, interrupting him; "I will find you some
clean linen. Our guests must not see you thus; it would be too great a
reproach to them."
"I am a great trouble to you, Madame, I fear," said Maurice, sighing.
"Not at all; I only do my duty; and," she added, "I do it with much
pleasure."
Geneviève then conducted Maurice to a large dressing-room, arranged
with an air of elegance he had not expected to find in the house
of a master-tanner. It is true this master-tanner appeared to be a
millionnaire. She then opened the wardrobes.
"Help yourself," said she; "you are at home." She withdrew.
When Maurice came out, he found Dixmer had returned.
"Come! come!" said he, "to table; we only wait for you."