Atonement.
Merlin waited a while in the hall, until he heard the noise of the
shrieking crowd gradually die away in the distance, then with a grunt of
satisfaction he one more mounted the stairs.
All these events outside had occurred during a very few minutes, and
Madame Déroulède and Anne Mie had been too anxious as to what was
happening in the streets, to take any notice of Juliette.
They had not dared to step out on to the balcony to see what was going
on, and, therefore, did not understand what the reopening and shutting
of the front door had meant.
The next instant, however, Merlin's heavy, slouching footsteps on the
stairs had caused Anne Mie to look round in alarm.
"It is only the soldiers come back for me," said Juliette quietly.
"For you?"
"Yes; they are coming to take me away. I suppose they did not wish to do
it in the presence of Mr. Déroulède, for fear ..."
She had no time to say more. Anne Mie was still looking at her in awed
and mute surprise, when Merlin entered the room.
In his hand he held a leather case, all torn, and split at one end, and
a few tiny scraps of half-charred paper. He walked straight up to
Juliette, and roughly thrust the case and papers into her face.
"These are yours?" he said roughly.
"Yes."
"I suppose you know where they were found?"
She nodded quietly in reply.
"What were these papers which you burnt?"
"Love letters."
"You lie!"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"As you please," she said curtly.
"What were these papers?" he repeated, with a loud obscene oath which,
however, had not the power to disturb the young girl's serenity.
"I have told you," she said: "love letters, which I wished to burn."
"Who was your lover?" he asked.
Then as she did not reply he indicated the street, where cries of
"Déroulède! Vive Déroulède!" still echoed from afar.
"Were the letters from him?"
"No."
"You had more than one lover, then?"
He laughed, and a hideous leer seemed further to distort his ugly
countenance.
He thrust his face quite close to hers, and she closed her eyes, sick
with the horror of this contact with the degraded wretch. Even Anne Mie
had uttered a cry of sympathy at sight of this evil-smelling, squalid
creature torturing, with his close proximity, the beautiful, refined
girl before him.
With a rough gesture he put his clawlike hand under her delicate chin,
forcing her to turn round and to look at him. She shuddered at the
loathsome touch, but her quietude never forsook her for a moment.
It was into the power of wretches such as this man, that she had
wilfully delivered the man she loved. This brutish creature's
familiarity put the finishing touch to her own degradation, but it gave
her the courage to carry through her purpose to the end.
"You had more than one lover, then?" said Merlin, with a laugh which
would have pleased the devil himself. "And you wished to send one of
them to the guillotine in order to make way for the other? Was that it?"
"Was that it?" he repeated, suddenly seizing one of her wrists, and
giving it a savage twist, so that she almost screamed with the pain.
"Yes," she replied firmly.
"Do you know that you brought me here on a fool's errand?" he asked
viciously; "that the Citizen-Deputy Déroulède cannot be sent to the
guillotine on mere suspicion, eh? Did you know that, when you wrote out
that denunciation?"
"No; I did not know."
"You thought we could arrest him on mere suspicion?"
"Yes."
"You knew he was Innocent?"
"I knew it."
"Why did you burn your love letters?"
"I was afraid that they would be found, and would be brought under the
notice of the Citizen-Deputy."
"A splendid combination, _ma foi!_" said Merlin, with an oath, as he
turned to the two other women, who sat pale and shrinking in a corner of
the room, not understanding what was going on, not knowing what to think
or what to believe. They had known nothing of Déroulède's plans for the
escape of Marie Antoinette, they didn't know what the letter-case had
contained, and yet they both vaguely felt that the beautiful girl, who
stood up so calmly before the loathsome Terrorist, was not a wanton, as
she tried to make out, but only misguided, mad perhaps--perhaps a
martyr.
"Did you know anything of this?" queried Merlin roughly from trembling
Anne Mie.
"Nothing," she replied.
"No one knew anything of my private affairs or of my private
correspondence," said Juliette coldly; "as you say, it was a splendid
combination. I had hoped that it would succeed. But I understand now
that Citizen-Deputy Déroulède is a personage of too much importance to
be brought to trial on mere suspicion, and my denunciation of him was
not based on facts."
"And do you know, my fine aristocrat," sneered Merlin viciously, "that
it is not wise either to fool the Committee of Public Safety, or to
denounce without cause one of the representatives of the people?"
"I know," she rejoined quietly, "that you, Citizen Merlin, are
determined that someone shall pay for this day's blunder. You dare not
now attack the Citizen-Deputy, and so you must be content with me."
"Enough of this talk now; I have no time to bandy words with aristos,"
he said roughly.
"Come now, follow the men quietly. Resistance would only aggravate your
case."
"I am quite prepared to follow you. May I speak two words to my friends
before I go?"
"No."
"I may never be able to speak to them again."
"I have said No, and I mean No. Now then, forward. March! I have wasted
too much time already."
Juliette was too proud to insist any further. She had hoped, by one
word, to soften Madame Déroulède's and Anne Mie's heart towards her. She
did not know whether they believed that miserable lie which she had been
telling to Merlin; she only guessed that for the moment they still
thought her the betrayer of Paul Déroulède.
But that one word was not to be spoken. She would have to go forth to
her certain trial, to her probable death, under the awful cloud, which
she herself had brought over her own life.
She turned quietly, and walked towards the door, where the two men
already stood at attention.
Then it was that some heaven-born instinct seemed suddenly to guide Anne
Mie. The crippled girl was face to face with a psychological problem,
which in itself was far beyond her comprehension, but vaguely she felt
that it was a problem. Something in Juliette's face had already caused
her to bitterly repent her action towards her, and now, as this
beautiful, refined woman was about to pass from under the shelter of
this roof, to the cruel publicity and terrible torture of that awful
revolutionary tribunal, Anne Mie's whole heart went out to her in
boundless sympathy.
Before Merlin or the men could prevent her, she had run up to Juliette,
taken her hand, which hung listless and cold, and kissed it tenderly.
Juliette seemed to wake as if from a dream. She looked down at Anne Mie
with a glance of hope, almost of joy, and whispered:
"It was an oath--I swore it to my father and my dead brother. Tell him."
Anne Mie could only nod; she could not speak, for her tears were choking
her.
"But I'll atone--with my life. Tell him," whispered Juliette.
"Now then," shouted Merlin, "out of the way, hunchback, unless you want
to come along too."
"Forgive me," said Anne Mie through her tears.
Then the men pushed her roughly aside. But at the door Juliette turned
to her once more, and said:
"Pétronelle--take care of her ..."
And with a firm step she followed the soldiers out of the room.
Presently the front door was heard to open, then to shut with a loud
bang, and the house in the Rue Ecole de Médecine was left in silence.