you--always, my dear. I never really think of anything but you. The
picture of you is always before the eyes of my soul; the very name of
you is forever in my heart. [_With a rueful smile._] And it is on the
tips of my fingers, sometimes when it shouldn't be. See. [_He steps to
the desk and shows her a scribbled sheet._] This is what I laughed at
a while ago. I tried to write, with you near me, and unconsciously I
let your name creep into my very forgery! I wrote it as I wrote it in
the sand when we were children; as I have traced it a thousand times
on coated mirrors--on frosted windows. [_He reads the writing aloud._]
"Permit the Citizen Balsage and his sister, the Citizeness Virginie
Balsage, and his second sister, the Citizeness Marie Balsage, and
Eloise d'Anville"--so I wrote!--"to embark upon the vessel _Jeune
Pierrette_--" You see? [_He lets the paper fall upon the desk._] Even
in this danger, that I feel closer and closer with every passing
second, your name came in of itself. I am like that English Mary: if
they will open my heart when I am dead, they shall find, not "Calais,"
but "Eloise"!
ELOISE [_going to the dressing-table_]. Louis, that doesn't interest
me. [_She adds a delicate touch or two to her hair, studying it
thoughtfully in the dressing-table mirror._]
LOUIS [_somberly_]. I told you long ago--
ELOISE [_smiling at her reflection_]. So you did--often!
LOUIS [_breathing quickly_]. I have nothing new to offer. I
understand. I bore you.
ELOISE. Louis, to be frank: I don't care what they find in your heart
when they open it.
LOUIS [_with a hint of sternness_]. Have you never reflected that
there might be something for me to forgive you?
ELOISE [_glancing at him over her shoulder in frowning surprise_].
What!
LOUIS. I wonder sometimes if you have ever found a flaw in your own
character.
ELOISE [_astounded_]. So! [_Turning sharply upon him._] You are
assuming the right to criticize me, are you? Oho!
LOUIS [_agitated_]. I state merely--I have said--I think I forgive you
a great deal--
ELOISE [_beginning to char_]. You do! You bestow your gracious pardon
upon me, do you? [_Bursting into flame._] Keep your forgiveness to
yourself! When I want it I'll kneel at your feet and beg it of you!
You can _kiss_ me then, for then you will know that "the old love has
come back"!
LOUIS [_miserably_]. When you kneel--
ELOISE. Can you picture it--_Marquis?_ [_She hurls his title at him,
and draws herself up in icy splendor._] I am a woman of the Republic!
LOUIS. And the Republic has no need of love.
ELOISE. Its daughter has no need of yours!
LOUIS. Until you kneel to me. You have spoken. It is ended. [_Turning
from her with a pathetic gesture of farewell and resignation, his
attention is suddenly arrested by something invisible. He stands for a
moment transfixed. When he speaks, it is in an altered tone, light and
at the same time ominous._] My cousin, suffer the final petition of a
bore. Forgive my seriousness; forgive my stupidity, for I believe that
what one hears now means that a number of things are indeed ended.
Myself among them.
ELOISE [_not comprehending_]. "What one hears?"
LOUIS [_slowly_]. In the distance. [_Both stand motionless to listen,
and the room is silent. Gradually a muffled, multitudinous sound, at
first very faint, becomes audible._]
ELOISE. What is it?
LOUIS [_with pale composure_]. Only a song! [_The distant sound
becomes distinguishable as a singing from many unmusical throats and
pitched in every key, a drum-beat booming underneath; a tumultuous
rumble which grows slowly louder. The door of the inner room opens,
and MADAME DE LASEYNE enters._]
ANNE [_briskly, as she comes in_]. I have hidden the cloak and the
dress beneath the mattress. Have you--
LOUIS [_lifting his hand_]. Listen! [_She halts, startled. The
singing, the drums, and the tumult swell suddenly much louder, as if
the noise-makers had turned a corner._]
ANNE [_crying out_]. The "Marseillaise"!
LOUIS. The "Vultures' Chorus"!
ELOISE [_in a ringing voice_]. The Hymn of Liberty!
ANNE [_trembling violently_]. It grows louder.
LOUIS. Nearer!
ELOISE [_running to the window_]. They are coming this way!
ANNE [_rushing ahead of her_]. They have turned the corner of the
street. Keep back, Louis!
ELOISE [_leaning out of the window, enthusiastically_]. _Vive
la_--[_She finishes with an indignant gurgle as ANNE DE LASEYNE,
without comment, claps a prompt hand over her mouth and pushes her
vigorously from the window._]
ANNE. A mob--carrying torches and dancing. [_Her voice shaking
wildly._] They are following a troop of soldiers.
LOUIS. The National Guard.
ANNE. Keep back from the window! A man in a tricolor scarf marching in
front.
LOUIS. A political, then--an official of their government.
ANNE. O Virgin, have mercy! [_She turns a stricken face upon her
brother._] It is that--
LOUIS [_biting his nails_]. Of course. Our spy. [_He takes a
hesitating step toward the desk; but swings about, goes to the door at
the rear, shoots the bolt back and forth, apparently unable to decide
upon a course of action; finally leaves the door bolted and examines
the hinges. ANNE, meanwhile, has hurried to the desk, and, seizing a
candle there, begins to light others in a candelabrum on the
dressing-table. The noise outside grows to an uproar; the
"Marseillaise" changes to "Ca ira"; and a shaft of the glare from the
torches below shoots through the window and becomes a staggering red
patch on the ceiling._]
ANNE [_feverishly_]. Lights! Light those candles in the sconce,
Eloise! Light all the candles we have. [_ELOISE, resentful, does not
move._]
LOUIS. No, no! Put them out!
ANNE. Oh, fatal! [_She stops him as he rushes to obey his own
command._] If our window is lighted he will believe we have no thought
of leaving, and pass by. [_She hastily lights the candles in a sconce
upon the wall as she speaks; the shabby place is now brightly
illuminated._]
LOUIS. He will not pass by. [_The external tumult culminates in
riotous yelling, as, with a final roll, the drums cease to beat.
MADAME DE LASEYNE runs again to the window._]
ELOISE [_sullenly_]. You are disturbing yourselves without reason.
They will not stop here.
ANNE [_in a sickly whisper_]. They have stopped.
LOUIS. At the door of this house? [_MADAME DE LASEYNE, leaning against
the wall, is unable to reply, save by a gesture. The noise from the
street dwindles to a confused, expectant murmur. LOUIS takes a pistol
from beneath his blouse, strides to the door, and listens._]
ANNE [_faintly_]. He is in the house. The soldiers followed him.
LOUIS. They are on the lower stairs. [_He turns to the two women
humbly._] My sister and my cousin, my poor plans have only made
everything worse for you. I cannot ask you to forgive me. We are
caught.
ANNE [_vitalized with the energy of desperation_]. Not till the very
last shred of hope is gone. [_She springs to the desk and begins to
tear the discarded sheets into minute fragments._] Is that door
fastened?
LOUIS. They'll break it down, of course.
ANNE. Where is our passport from Paris?
LOUIS. Here. [_He gives it to her._]
ANNE. Quick! Which of these "permits" is the best?
LOUIS. They're all hopeless--[_He fumbles among the sheets on the
desk._]
ANNE. Any of them. We can't stop to select. [_She thrusts the passport
and a haphazard sheet from the desk into the bosom of her dress. An
orderly tramping of heavy shoes and a clinking of metal become audible
as the soldiers ascend the upper flight of stairs._]
ELOISE. All this is childish. [_Haughtily._] I shall merely announce--
ANNE [_uttering a half-choked scream of rage_]. You'll announce
nothing! Out of here, both of you!
LOUIS. No, no!
ANNE [_with breathless rapidity, as the noise on the stairs grows
louder_]. Let them break the door in if they will; only let them find
me alone. [_She seizes her brother's arm imploringly as he pauses,
uncertain._] Give me the chance to make them think I am here alone.
LOUIS. I can't--
ANNE [_urging him to the inner door_]. Is there any other possible
hope for us? Is there any other possible way to gain even a little
time? Louis, I want your word of honor not to leave that room unless I
summon you. I must have it! [_Overborne by her intensity, LOUIS nods
despairingly, allowing her to force him toward the other room. The
tramping of the soldiers, much louder and very close, comes to a
sudden stop. There is a sharp word of command, and a dozen muskets
ring on the floor just beyond the outer door._]
ELOISE [_folding her arms_]. You needn't think I shall consent to hide
myself. I shall tell them--
ANNE [_in a surcharged whisper_]. You will not ruin us! [_With furious
determination, as a loud knock falls upon the door._] In there, I tell
you! [_Almost physically she sweeps both ELOISE and LOUIS out of the
room, closes the door upon them, and leans against it, panting. The
knocking is repeated. She braces herself to speak._]
ANNE [_with a catch in her throat_]. Who is--there?
A SONOROUS VOICE. French Republic!
ANNE [_faltering_], It is--it is difficult to hear. What do you--
THE VOICE. Open the door.
ANNE [_more firmly_]. That is impossible.
THE VOICE. Open the door.
ANNE. What is your name?
THE VOICE. Valsin, National Agent.
ANNE. I do not know you.
THE VOICE. Open!
ANNE. I am here alone. I am dressing. I can admit no one.
THE VOICE. For the last time: open!
ANNE. No!
THE VOICE. Break it down. [_A thunder of blows from the butts of
muskets falls upon the door._]
ANNE [_rushing toward it in a passion of protest_]. No, no, no! You
shall not come in! I tell you I have not finished dressing. If you are
men of honor--Ah! [_She recoils, gasping, as a panel breaks in, the
stock of a musket following it; and then, weakened at rusty bolt and
crazy hinge, the whole door gives way and falls crashing into the
room. The narrow passage thus revealed is crowded with shabbily
uniformed soldiers of the National Guard, under an officer armed with
a saber. As the door falls a man wearing a tricolor scarf strides by
them, and, standing beneath the dismantled lintel, his hands behind
him, sweeps the room with a smiling eye._
_This personage is handsomely, almost dandiacally dressed in black;
his ruffle is of lace, his stockings are of silk; the lapels of his
waistcoat, overlapping those of his long coat, exhibit a rich
embroidery of white and crimson. These and other details of elegance,
such as his wearing powder upon his dark hair, indicate either insane
daring or an importance quite overwhelming. A certain easy power in
his unusually brilliant eyes favors the probability that, like
Robespierre, he can wear what he pleases. Undeniably he has
distinction. Equally undeniable is something in his air that is dapper
and impish and lurking. His first glance over the room apparently
affording him acute satisfaction, he steps lightly across the
prostrate door, MADAME DE LASEYNE retreating before him but keeping
herself between him and the inner door. He comes to an unexpected halt
in a dancing-master's posture, removing his huge hat--which displays a
tricolor plume of ostrich feathers--with a wide flourish, an
intentional burlesque of the old-court manner._]
VALSIN. Permit me. [_He bows elaborately._] Be gracious to a recent
fellow-traveler. I introduce myself. At your service: Valsin, Agent of
the National Committee of Public Safety. [_He faces about sharply._]
Soldiers! [_They stand at attention._] To the street door. I will
conduct the examination alone. My assistant will wait on this floor,
at the top of the stair. Send the people away down below there,
officer. Look to the courtyard. Clear the streets. [_The officer
salutes, gives a word of command, and the soldiers shoulder their
muskets, march off, and are heard clanking down the stairs. VALSIN
tosses his hat upon the desk, and turns smilingly to the trembling but
determined MADAME DE LASEYNE._]
ANNE [_summoning her indignation_]. How dare you break down my door!
How dare you force your--
VALSIN [_suavely_]. My compliments on the celerity with which the
citizeness has completed her toilet. Marvelous. An example to her sex.
ANNE. You intend robbery, I suppose.
VALSIN [_with a curt laugh_]. Not precisely.
ANNE. What, then?
VALSIN. I have come principally for the returned Emigrant, Louis
Valny-Cherault, formerly called Marquis de Valny-Cherault, formerly of
the former regiment of Valny; also formerly--
ANNE [_cutting him off sharply_]. I do not know what you mean by all
these names--and "formerlies"!
VALSIN. No? [_Persuasively._] Citizeness, pray assert that I did not
encounter you last week on your journey from Paris--
ANNE [_hastily_]. It is true I have been to Paris on business; you
may have seen me--I do not know. Is it a crime to return from Paris?
VALSIN [_in a tone of mock encouragement_]. It will amuse me to hear
you declare that I did not see you traveling in company with Louis
Valny-Cherault. Come! Say it.
ANNE [_stepping back defensively, closer to the inner door_]. I am
alone, I tell you! I do not know what you mean. If you saw me speaking
with people in the diligence, or at some posting-house, they were only
traveling acquaintances. I did not know them. I am a widow--
VALSIN. My condolences. Poor, of course?
ANNE. Yes.
VALSIN. And lonely, of course? [_Apologetically._] Loneliness is in
the formula: I suggest it for fear you might forget.
ANNE [_doggedly_]. I am alone.
VALSIN. Quite right.
ANNE [_confusedly_]. I am a widow, I tell you--a widow, living here
quietly with--
VALSIN [_taking her up quickly_]. Ah--"with"! Living here alone, and
also "with"--whom? Not your late husband?
ANNE [_desperately_]. With my niece.
VALSIN [_affecting great surprise_]. Ah! A niece! And the niece, I
take it, is in your other room yonder?
ANNE [_huskily_]. Yes.
VALSIN [_taking a step forward_]. Is she pretty? [_ANNE places her
back against the closed door, facing him grimly. He assumes a tone of
indulgence._] Ah, one must not look: the niece, likewise, has not
completed her toilet.
ANNE. She is--asleep.
VALSIN [_glancing toward the dismantled doorway_]. A sound napper! Why
did you not say instead that she was--shaving? [_He advances,
smiling._]
ANNE [_between her teeth_]. You shall not go in! You cannot see her!
She is--
VALSIN [_laughing_]. Allow me to prompt you. She is not only asleep;
she is ill. She is starving. Also, I cannot go in because she is an
orphan. Surely, she is an orphan? A lonely widow and her lonely orphan
niece. Ah, touching--and sweet!
ANNE [_hotly_]. What authority have you to force your way into my
apartment and insult--
VALSIN [_touching his scarf_]. I had the honor to mention the French
Republic.
ANNE. So! Does the French Republic persecute widows and orphans?
VALSIN [_gravely_]. No. It is the making of them!
ANNE [_crying out_]. Ah, horrible!
VALSIN. I regret that its just severity was the cause of your own
bereavement, Citizeness. When your unfortunate husband, Andre,
formerly known as the Prince de Laseyne--
ANNE [_defiantly, though tears have sprung to her eyes_]. I tell you I
do not know what you mean by these titles. My name is Balsage.
VALSIN. Bravo! The Widow Balsage, living here in calm obscurity with
her niece. Widow Balsage, answer quickly, without stopping to think.
[_Sharply._] How long have you lived here?
ANNE. Two months. [_Faltering._]--A year!
VALSIN [_laughing_]. Good. Two months and a year! No visitors? No
strangers?
ANNE. No.
VALSIN [_wheeling quickly and picking up LOUIS's cap from the
dressing-table_]. This cap, then, belongs to your niece.
ANNE [_flustered, advancing toward him as if to take it_]. It was--it
was left here this afternoon by our landlord.
VALSIN [_musingly_]. That is very, very puzzling. [_He leans against
the dressing-table in a careless attitude, his back to her._]
ANNE [_cavalierly_]. Why "puzzling"?
VALSIN. Because I sent him on an errand to Paris this morning. [_She
flinches, but he does not turn to look at her, continuing in a tone of
idle curiosity._] I suppose your own excursion to Paris was quite an
event for you, Widow Balsage. You do not take many journeys?
ANNE. I am too poor.
VALSIN. And you have not been contemplating another departure from
Boulogne?
ANNE. No.
VALSIN [_still in the same careless attitude, his back toward her and
the closed door_]. Good. It is as I thought: the portmanteau is for
ornament.
ANNE [_choking_]. It belongs to my niece. She came only an hour ago.
She has not unpacked.
VALSIN. Naturally. Too ill.
ANNE. She had traveled all night; she was exhausted. She went to sleep
at once.
VALSIN. Is she a somnambulist?
ANNE [_taken aback_]. Why?
VALSIN [_indifferently_]. She has just opened the door of her room in
order to overhear our conversation. [_Waving his hand to the
dressing-table mirror, in which he had been gazing._] Observe it,
Citizeness Laseyne.
ANNE [_demoralized_]. I do not--I--[_Stamping her foot._] How often
shall I tell you my name is Balsage!
VALSIN [_turning to her apologetically_]. My wretched memory. Perhaps
I might remember better if I saw it written: I beg a glance at your
papers. Doubtless you have your certificate of citizenship--
ANNE [_trembling_]. I have papers, certainly.
VALSIN. The sight of them--
ANNE. I have my passport; you shall see. [_With wildly shaking hands
she takes from her blouse the passport and the "permit," crumpled
together._] It is in proper form--[_She is nervously replacing the two
papers in her bosom when with a sudden movement he takes them from
her. She cries out incoherently, and attempts to recapture them._]
VALSIN [_extending his left arm to fend her off_]. Yes, here you have
your passport. And there you have others. [_He points to the littered
floor under the desk._] Many of them!
ANNE. Old letters! [_She clutches at the papers in his grasp._]
VALSIN [_easily fending her off_]. Doubtless! [_He shakes the "permit"
open._] Oho! A permission to embark--and signed by three names of the
highest celebrity. Alas, these unfortunate statesmen, Billaud
Varennes, Carnot, and Robespierre! Each has lately suffered an injury
to his right hand. What a misfortune for France! And what a
coincidence! One has not heard the like since we closed the theatres.
ANNE [_furiously struggling to reach his hand_]. Give me my papers!
Give me--
VALSIN [_holding them away from her_]. You see, these unlucky great
men had their names signed for them by somebody else. And I should
judge that this somebody else must have been writing quite
recently--less than half an hour ago, from the freshness of the
ink--and in considerable haste; perhaps suffering considerable anguish
of mind, Widow Balsage! [_MADAME DE LASEYNE, overwhelmed, sinks into a
chair. He comes close to her, his manner changing startlingly._]
VALSIN [_bending over with sudden menace, his voice loud and harsh_].
Widow Balsage, if you intend no journey, why have you this forged
permission to embark on the Jeune Pierrette? Widow Balsage, who is the
Citizen Balsage?
ANNE [_faintly_]. My brother.
VALSIN [_straightening up_]. Your first truth. [_Resuming his
gaiety._] Of course he is not in that room yonder with your niece.
ANNE [_brokenly_]. No, no, no; he is not! He is not here.
VALSIN [_commiseratingly_]. Poor woman! You have not even the pleasure
to perceive how droll you are.
ANNE. I perceive that I am a fool! [_She dashes the tears from her
eyes and springs to her feet._] I also perceive that you have
denounced us before the authorities here--
VALSIN. Pardon. In Boulogne it happens that _I_ am the authority. I
introduce myself for the third time: Valsin, Commissioner of the
National Committee of Public Safety. Tallien was sent to Bordeaux;
Collot to Lyons; I to Boulogne. Citizeness, were all of the august
names on your permit genuine, you could no more leave this port
without my counter-signature than you could take wing and fly over the
Channel!
ANNE [_with a shrill laugh of triumph_]. You have overreached
yourself! You're an ordinary spy: you followed us from Paris--
VALSIN [_gaily_]. Oh, I intended you to notice that!
ANNE [_unheeding_]. You have claimed to be Commissioner of the highest
power in France. We can prove that you are a common spy. You may go to
the guillotine for that. Take care, Citizen! So! You have denounced
us; we denounce you. I'll have you arrested by your own soldiers. I'll
call them--[_She makes a feint of running to the window. He watches
her coolly, in silence; and she halts, chagrined._]
VALSIN [_pleasantly_]. I was sure you would not force me to be
premature. Remark it, Citizeness Laseyne: I am enjoying all this. I
have waited a long time for it.
ANNE [_becoming hysterical_]. I am the Widow Balsage, I tell you! You
do not know us--you followed us from Paris. [_Half sobbing._] You're a
spy--a hanger-on of the police. We will prove--
VALSIN [_stepping to the dismantled doorway_]. I left my assistant
within hearing--a species of animal of mine. I may claim that he
belongs to me. A worthy patriot, but skillful, who has had the honor
of a slight acquaintance with you, I believe. [_Calling._]
Dossonville! [_DOSSONVILLE, a large man, flabby of flesh,
loose-mouthed, grizzled, carelessly dressed, makes his appearance in
the doorway. He has a harsh and reckless eye; and, obviously a
flamboyant bully by temperament, his abject, doggish deference to
VALSIN is instantly impressive, more than confirming the latter's
remark that DOSSONVILLE "belongs" to him. DOSSONVILLE, apparently, is
a chattel indeed, body and soul. At sight of him MADAME DE LASEYNE
catches at the desk for support and stands speechless._]
VALSIN [_easily_]. Dossonville, you may inform the Citizeness Laseyne
what office I have the fortune to hold.
DOSSONVILLE [_coming in_]. Bright heaven! All the world knows that you
are the representative of the Committee of Public Safety. Commissioner
to Boulogne.
VALSIN. With what authority?
DOSSONVILLE. Absolute--unlimited! Naturally. What else would be
useful?
VALSIN. You recall this woman, Dossonville?
DOSSONVILLE. She was present when I delivered the passport to the
Emigrant Valny-Cherault, in Paris.
VALSIN. Did you forge that passport?
DOSSONVILLE. No. I told the Emigrant I had. Under orders.
[_Grinning._] It was genuine.
VALSIN. Where did you get it?
DOSSONVILLE. From you.
VALSIN [_suavely_]. Sit down, Dossonville. [_The latter, who is
standing by a chair, obeys with a promptness more than military.
VALSIN turns smilingly to MADAME DE LASEYNE._] Dossonville's
instructions, however, did not include a "permit" to sail on the
_Jeune Pierrette_. All of which, I confess, Citizeness, has very much
the appearance of a trap! [_He tosses the two papers upon the desk.
Utterly dismayed, she makes no effort to secure them. He regards her
with quizzical enjoyment._]
ANNE. Ah--you--[_She fails to speak coherently._]
VALSIN. Dossonville has done very well. He procured your passport,
brought your "disguises," planned your journey, even gave you
directions how to find these lodgings in Boulogne. Indeed, I
instructed him to omit nothing for your comfort. [_He pauses for a
moment._] If I am a spy, Citizeness Laseyne, at least I trust your
gracious intelligence may not cling to the epithet "ordinary." My
soul! but I appear to myself a most uncommon type of spy--a very
intricate, complete, and unusual spy, in fact.
ANNE [_to herself, weeping_]. Ah, poor Louis!