ARTHÉMISE.
They searched during the whole day in the court, in the garden and its
environs, for the little billet which had caused all this tumult, and
which they no longer doubted contained the whole plot.
They interrogated the queen, after having separated her from her
daughter and sister, but elicited nothing more from her than that she
had, on the staircase, encountered a young woman carrying a bouquet,
and had drawn a single flower from the centre.
Moreover, she would not have plucked this flower had she not first
obtained the consent of the Municipal Maurice.
She had nothing more to tell. This was the truth in all its force and
simplicity.
This was all reported to Maurice when his turn came to be questioned,
and he declared that the deposition of the queen was quite correct.
"But," said the president, "there was then a plot."
"Impossible," said Maurice; "I was dining at Madame Dixmer's, and
proposed that she should see the prisoners, hearing her remark she
had never done so; but neither the day nor the manner of so doing was
arranged."
"But the flowers were purchased," said the president; "the bouquet had
been made beforehand."
"Not at all; I myself purchased these flowers from a flower-girl, who
offered them to us at the corner of the Rue des Vieilles-Audriettes."
"But at least this flower-girl presented the bouquet to you?"
"No, Citizen; I selected it myself from ten or twelve others.
Certainly, I purchased the most beautiful."
"But was there a possibility of secreting this billet on your road to
the tower?"
"Impossible, Citizen. I never left Madame Dixmer's side for a moment,
and to perform the operation named on each flower,--for remark that
every flower, according to Simon's account, must have contained a like
billet,--would at least occupy half a day or more."
"But, in short, could not two prepared billets have been placed in the
flowers?"
"The prisoner in my presence took one at random, after having declined
the rest."
"Then, in your opinion, Citizen Lindey, there was not a plot at all?"
"Oh, there must have been a plot!" replied Maurice, "and I am the
first not only to believe but to affirm it; my friends, however, were
not concerned in it. Nevertheless, as the nation must necessarily be
alarmed, I offer security by surrendering myself prisoner."
"Not at all," said Santerre; "should we act thus with tried friends
like you? If you surrender yourself prisoner to answer for your
friends, I surrender myself prisoner to answer for you. The thing
is simple. There is no positive accusation. No one will know what
has passed. Let us henceforth act with redoubled vigilance,--you
especially,--and we shall succeed in probing this matter to the bottom,
and at the same time avoid publicity."
"Thanks, Commandant," said Maurice; "but I shall answer as you would
answer were you in my place. We must not stop here; we must discover
the flower-girl."
"The flower-girl is far away, but be perfectly easy on that point; she
shall be sought for. As for you, watch your friends, while I will guard
the prison correspondence."
No one had thought of Simon, but he had formed his own project.
He arrived toward the conclusion of the sitting, and learned the
decision of the Commune.
"Ah! then all that is needed is a formal accusation," said he, "to make
sure work. Wait five minutes and I will lay one before you."
"What is it?" said the president.
"It is," said Simon, "the courageous Citizeness Tison who accuses
of secret practices that partisan of the aristocracy, Maurice, and
denounces the intrigues of another equally false patriot, one of his
friends named Lorin."
"Take care, take care, Simon; your zeal for the nation perhaps misleads
you. Maurice and Lorin are tried patriots."
"That will be seen at the tribunal," replied Simon.
"Consider well, Simon; this will be a disgraceful proceeding in the
sight of all true patriots."
"Disgraceful or not, what is that to me? Do I dread disgrace? We shall
at least learn the whole truth about traitors."
"Then you persist in lodging an accusation in the name of the woman
Tison?"
"I will accuse them myself this very night to the Cordeliers, and you
too, Citizen President, if you do not at once command the arrest of
that traitor Maurice."
"Well, so be it," said the president, who, after the manner of those
wretched times, trembled before those who clamored the loudest; "he
shall be arrested."
While this decision was forming against him, Maurice had returned to
the Temple, where the following billet awaited him,--
Our guard being violently broken up, I shall not be able, in all
probability, to see you before to-morrow morning. Come then and
breakfast with me; during that meal you shall give me a true and
particular account of the plots and conspiracies discovered by Simon.
A pink the culprit was,--
So honest Simon does depose;
But I shall information seek
This morning from a lovely rose.
And to-morrow, in my turn, I shall lay before you all Arthémise's
answers to my questions.
Yours faithfully,
Lorin.
Maurice replied,--
There is nothing new; so sleep in peace to-night, and breakfast
without me to-morrow, as, on reviewing the incidents of the day, I
find I shall not, in all probability, be able to leave till noon.
I should like to be a zephyr to waft a kiss to the rose of which you
speak.
I give you leave to whistle at my prose as much as I do at your verse.
Yours faithfully,
Maurice.
P.S. For the rest, I believe the conspiracy was only a false alarm,
after all.
Lorin had indeed left at one o'clock with the whole of his battalion,
thanks to the brutal conduct of the shoemaker; he however consoled
himself with a quatrain, and went to visit Arthémise.
Arthémise was delighted to see Lorin. The weather, as we have said, was
magnificent; she therefore proposed a walk along the quay, to which
Lorin of course assented. They had walked some distance, discoursing
on politics, Lorin recounting his expulsion from the Temple and vainly
endeavoring to divine the cause, when, on reaching the vicinity of Rue
des Barres, they perceived a flower-girl, who, like themselves, was
walking up the right bank of the Seine.
"Ah, Citizen Lorin!" said Arthémise, "I hope you are going to present
me with a bouquet?"
"Two, if you wish it," said Lorin; and they both redoubled their speed
to overtake the flower-girl, who walked at a rapid pace.
On arriving at the Bridge Marie, the young girl stopped, and leaning
over the parapet, emptied the contents of her basket into the river.
The flowers separated, whirled round for an instant in the air, while
the bouquets, dragged down by their weight, fell more quickly, till at
last both flowers and bouquets floated upon the surface, following the
course of the water.
"Stop!" said Arthémise, regarding the flower-girl thus strangely
occupied; "it is said--but yes--but no--but if--ah! this is strange."
The flower-girl placed her finger on her lips, as if to entreat
Arthémise to be silent, and disappeared.
"Who is this, then?" said Lorin; "do you know this mortal, goddess?"
"No; I fancied at first--but certainly I am deceived."
"She, however, made a sign to you," persisted Lorin.
"But why is she a flower-girl this morning?" said Arthémise to herself.
"You acknowledge, then, that you know her, Arthémise?" asked Lorin.
"Yes," replied Arthémise; "she is a flower-girl I sometimes deal with."
"At all events," said Lorin, "she has a strange method of disposing of
her merchandise."
And both, after having looked for the last time at the flowers, which
had already reached the wooden bridge and received a fresh impetus from
the arm of the river passing under its arches, continued their route
toward the Rapée, where they anticipated dining _tête-à-tête_.
This incident was forgotten for the moment; but as it was at least
singular, and of rather a mysterious character, it vividly impressed
Lorin's poetic imagination.
In the mean time, the accusation brought by Tison's wife against
Maurice and Lorin caused a great tumult at the club of the Jacobins;
and Maurice was informed at the Temple by the Commune that his safety
was endangered by the public indignation. This was a recommendation
to the young municipal to conceal himself if he were guilty; but with
conscious rectitude Maurice remained at the Temple, where he was found
at his post when they came to arrest him, and at the same time to
interrogate him.
Remaining firm in his resolution not to endanger the safety of his
friends, in whom he felt the most implicit confidence, Maurice was
not the man to sacrifice himself by a ridiculous silence worthy of a
hero of romance, and therefore demanded that the flower-girl should be
arrested.
It was five o'clock in the evening when Lorin returned home, and heard,
at the same moment, of the arrest of Maurice, and also of the demand
made by him.
The flower-girl of the Bridge Marie instantly recurred to him like
a sudden revelation. This singular individual casting her flowers
into the Seine; the coincidence of place; the half admission of
Arthémise,--all these facts combined convinced him that this was the
solution of the mystery demanded by Maurice.
He bounded from his chamber, flew rather than ran down four flights
of stairs, and precipitated himself into the presence of the Goddess
Reason, who was engaged in embroidering golden stars on a robe of blue
gauze. It was her robe of divinity.
"A truce to the stars, sweetheart," said Lorin; "they have arrested
Maurice this morning, and, in all human probability, this evening I
shall share the same fate."
"Maurice arrested!"
"By Heaven, he is! In these times nothing is more common than the
occurrence of such troubles; but they excite little attention because
they come in troops, that is all. Almost all important matters
originate in trifles. Never neglect trifles. Who was that flower-girl
we met this morning, sweetheart?"
Arthémise started.
"What flower-girl?"
"The one who so recklessly cast her flowers into the Seine."
"Ah, my goodness!" said Arthémise; "is this circumstance, then, so
serious that you return to question me so urgently about it?"
"So serious, sweetheart, that I entreat you to answer my question
without loss of time."
"Dear Lorin, I cannot do so."
"Goddess, with you nothing is impossible."
"I am in honor bound to keep silence."
"And I am bound in honor to make you speak."
"But why do you insist upon it thus?"
"Why? Zounds! that Maurice may not have his throat cut!"
"Merciful Heavens! Maurice guillotined!" cried the young woman, much
alarmed.
"Without speaking of myself; for to tell you the truth my head feels by
no means secure upon my shoulders."
"Ah! No, no!" said Arthémise, "to speak would be the poor girl's utter
ruin."
At this moment Lorin's official rushed into the apartment.
"Ah! Citizen," cried he, "save yourself! save yourself!"
"And why?" demanded Lorin.
"Because the gendarmes have arrived; and while they were forcing an
entrance, I gained the next house by the roof, and hastened to prevent
your return."
Arthémise uttered a heart-rending cry, for she truly loved Lorin.
"Arthémise," said Lorin, "do you really place the life of a flower-girl
in comparison with that of Maurice and that of your lover? If so, I
declare to you that I no longer regard you as the Goddess Reason, but
shall proclaim you the Goddess Folly."
"Poor Héloïse!" exclaimed the ex-dancer of the Opera; "if I betray you,
it is not my fault."
"Well done, my darling!" said Lorin, presenting a paper to Arthémise,
"you have already favored me with her Christian name, oblige me now
with her surname and address."
"Oh, write it! never, never!" cried Arthémise; "I would rather tell
you."
"Tell me, then, and rest assured I shall not forget."
And Arthémise, in an agitated voice, gave the name and address of the
pretended flower-girl to Lorin.
"She is called Héloïse Tison, and lives, Rue des Nonandières, No. 24."
At this name, Lorin uttered an exclamation, and fled. He had not
reached the corner of the street when a letter was delivered to
Arthémise. It only contained three lines,--
Not a word concerning me, dear friend; the revelation of my name would
infallibly ruin me. Wait till to-morrow. I quit Paris to-night.
Thine,
Héloïse.
"Oh, my God!" cried the future goddess, "if I could only have divined
this I should have waited till to-morrow," and she rushed to the window
to recall Lorin, if there was yet time; but he had disappeared.