THE CITIZEN GRACCHUS.
For an instant the three men remained motionless at the entrance to the
vault, while the turnkey plunged his lantern into the opening without
being able to penetrate its depth. The architect triumphantly exulted
over his companions from the summit of his genius.
"Well!" said he, at length.
"Faith! yes," replied Santerre, "here incontestably is the passage. It
only remains to know where it leads to."
"Yes," repeated Richard, "it remains to know that."
"Well, then, descend yourself, Citizen Richard, and then you will see
if I have told you the truth."
"I have something better to do than go in there," said the porter. "We
will return with you and the general to the Conciergerie. There you can
raise the hearthstone, and we shall see."
"Very well," said Santerre, "we will return."
"But we must be careful," said the architect; "this stone remaining
unclosed may suggest an idea to some one."
"Who the devil do you imagine ever comes here at this hour?" said
Santerre.
"Besides," said Richard, "the hall is deserted, and to leave Gracchus
here is sufficient. Remain here, Citizen Gracchus, and we will return
to you from the other side of the subterranean passage."
"All right," said Gracchus.
"Are you armed?" demanded Santerre.
"I have my sword and this crowbar, Citizen General."
"Just the thing! keep strict watch; in ten minutes we will be with you."
And having closed the iron gate, the three took their departure by
the Gallery des Merciers, to repair to the private entrance of the
Conciergerie.
The turnkey watched their receding footsteps, and followed them with
his eyes as far as he could see, and listened as long as he had
anything to hear; then all relapsed into silence, and supposing himself
in perfect solitude, he placed his lantern on the ground, sat down,
his legs overhanging the depths of the vault, and began to meditate.
Turnkeys meditate sometimes; but people, generally speaking, do not
trouble themselves to find out what is the subject of their meditations.
All at once, in the midst of his profound revery, he felt a hand press
heavily upon his shoulder. He turned round, and attempted, on seeing a
stranger, to give the alarm, but at the same instant the cold point of
a pistol was pressed to his forehead.
The accents were arrested in his throat, his arms fell listlessly by
his side, and his eyes assumed the most suppliant expression.
"Not a word," said the intruder, "or you are a dead man."
"What do you want, sir?" stammered the turnkey.
Even in '93, there were moments when, renouncing their idea of
universal equality, they forgot to address each other as "Citizen."
"I wish," said the Citizen Théodore, "to be allowed to go down there."
"What for?"
"Never mind."
The turnkey regarded the person who had proffered this request with
the most profound astonishment; but in the mean time his interlocutor
fancied he detected in the man's look a ray of intelligence.
He lowered the pistol.
"Would you refuse to make your fortune?"
"I don't know. Hitherto no one has ever made me proposals on the
subject."
"Well, then, I will begin."
"You offer to make my fortune?"
"Yes."
"What do you mean by a fortune?"
"Fifty thousand golden francs, for instance. Money is scarce, and fifty
thousand francs now are worth a million. Well, I offer you that sum."
"To allow you to go down there?"
"Yes; but on condition that you come with me, and afford me your
assistance in my undertaking."
"But what are you going to do? In five minutes that vault will be
filled with soldiers, who will arrest you."
The Citizen Théodore was forcibly struck by this argument.
"Cannot you prevent the soldiers from descending there?"
"I have no means of so doing, I know none, and cannot think of any."
Indeed, it was evident the turnkey was taxing all his mental energies
to discover some means of winning the fifty thousand francs.
"But," demanded the Citizen Théodore, "could we not enter to-morrow?"
"Yes; but to-morrow a grate of iron will be placed across the passage,
occupying its whole width; and for the greater security it is arranged
that this partition should be entirely solid, and without even a door."
"Then we must think of something else," said Théodore.
"Yes; we must find some other way," said the turnkey.
It will be seen from the joint manner in which Gracchus expressed
himself, that an alliance had already been struck between himself and
the Citizen Théodore.
"That will be my concern," said Théodore. "What do you do at the
Conciergerie?"
"I am a turnkey."
"What are your duties?"
"I open the doors and shut them."
"Do you sleep there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you take your meals there?"
"Not always. I have my hours of recreation."
"And then?"
"I avail myself of them."
"What to do?"
"To pay my respects to the mistress of a tavern called Noah's Well, who
has promised to marry me when I am possessed of twelve hundred francs."
"Where is the tavern Noah's Well?"
"Near the Rue de la Vieille-Draperie."
"Very well."
"Hush, sir."
The patriot listened.
"Ah! ah!" said he.
"Do you hear?"
"Yes. Voices and footsteps."
"They are returning."
"You see very well that we should not have had time."
This _we_ was becoming more and more pronounced.
"That is true. You are a brave fellow, Citizen, and are through me
predestined--"
"To what?"
"To be rich one day."
"God grant it!"
"You then still believe in God?"
"Sometimes; here and there. To-day, for example--"
"Well?"
"I should willingly believe."
"Believe, then," said the Citizen Théodore, putting ten louis into the
man's hand.
"The devil!" said he, regarding the gold by the light of the lantern.
"Is it, then, serious?"
"It could not be more so."
"What must I do?"
"Meet me to-morrow at Noah's Well; I will then tell you what I require
of you. What is your name?"
"Gracchus."
"Well, Citizen Gracchus, get yourself dismissed from here to-morrow by
the keeper Richard."
"Dismissed! give up my place!"
"Do you reckon on remaining a turnkey, with fifty thousand francs?"
"No, but being a turnkey and poor, I am certain of not being
guillotined."
"Certain?"
"Or nearly so; while being free and rich--"
"You will hide your money, and make love to a spinster instead of to
the mistress of Noah's Well."
"Well, then, it is settled."
"To-morrow at the tavern."
"At what hour?"
"At six in the evening."
"Flee quickly; there they are. I tell you to be quick, because, I
presume, you descend and go through the vaults."
"To-morrow," repeated Théodore, hastening away.
And not before it was time, for the voices and steps drew near,
and lights were already seen approaching in the obscurity of the
underground passage. Théodore gained the gate which the writer from
whom he had taken the hut had shown him, opened the lock with his
crowbar, reached the window, threw it open, dropped softly into the
street, and found himself upon the pavement of the Republic once again.
Before quitting the Salle des Pas-Perdus he heard the Citizen Gracchus
again question Richard, and also his reply.
"The Citizen Architect was quite right; the vault passes below the
chamber of the Widow Capet, and it was dangerous."
"I well believe it," said Gracchus, who in this instance told the
perfect truth.
Santerre reappeared at the opening of the staircase.
"And the workmen, Citizen Architect?" demanded he of Giraud.
"Before daybreak they will be here; and during the session the grating
will be placed," replied a voice which seemed to proceed from the
bowels of the earth.
"And you will have saved the country," cried Santerre, half in jest,
half in earnest.
"You little know the truth of what you say, Citizen General," murmured
Gracchus.