He was recovered and, with a book in his hand, was talking a
quiet walk in the Luxembourg gardens. He had that feeling of
harmless selfishness, that self-pity that comes with convalescence.
Of his previous life, all he cared to remember was a charming
face bending over him and a voice sweeter than the loveliest
music murmuring: "So you love me still?" Oh! never fear, he would
not answer now as he did on that dreadful staircase: "I don't
love you any longer." No, he would answer with eyes and lips and
open arms: "I shall love you always!" Still the odious spectre of
his rival would cross his memory at times and cause him agonies.
Suddenly his eyes were caught by an extraordinary sight.
Two yards away from him in the garden, in front of the orange-house,
was Monsieur Tudesco, burly and full-blown as usual, but how
metamorphosed in costume! He wore a National Guard's tunic, covered
with glittering _aiguillettes_; from his red sash peeped the
butts of a brace of pistols. On his head was perched a _képi_
with five gold bands. The central figure of a group of women
and children, he was gazing at the heavens with as much tender
emotion as his little green eyes were capable of expressing.
His whole person breathed a sense of power and kindly patronage.
His right hand rested at arm's length on a little boy's head,
and he was addressing him in a set speech:
"Young citizen, pride of your mother's heart, ornament of the
public parks, hope of the Commune, hear the words of the proscribed
exile. I say it: Young citizen, the 18th of March is a great day;
it witnessed the foundation of the Commune, it rescued you from
slavery. Grave on your heart's core that never-to-be-forgotten
date. I say it: We have suffered and fought for you. Son of the
disinherited and despairing, you shall be a free man!"
He ended, and restoring the child to its mother, smiled upon
his listeners of the fair sex, who were lost in admiration of
his eloquence, his red sash, his gold lace and his green old
age.
Albeit it was three o'clock in the afternoon, he had not drunk
more than he could carry, and he trod the sandy walks with a
mien of masterful assurance amid the plaudits of the people.
Jean advanced to meet him; he had a soft place in his heart for
the old man. Monsieur Tudesco grasped his hand with a fatherly
affection and declaimed:
"I am overjoyed to see my dear disciple, the child of my intellect.
Monsieur Servien, look yonder and never forget the sight; it is
the spectacle of a free people."
The fact is, a throng of citizens of both sexes was tramping over
the lawns, picking the flowers in the beds and breaking branches
from the trees.
The two friends tried to find seats on a bench; but these were
all occupied by _fédérés_ of all ranks huddled up on them and
snoring in chorus. For this reason Monsieur Tudesco opined it
was better to adjourn to a café.
They came upon one in the _Place de l'Odéon_, where Monsieur
Tudesco could display his striking uniform to his own satisfaction.
"I am an engineer," he announced, when he was seated with his
bitter before him, "an engineer in the service of the Commune,
with the rank of Colonel."
Jean thought it mighty strange all the same. No doubt he had heard
his old tutor's tales about his confabulations at the dram-shop
with the leaders of the Commune, but it struck him as extraordinary
that the Monsieur Tudesco he knew should have blossomed into an
engineer and Colonel under any circumstances. But there was the
fact. Monsieur Tudesco manifested no surprise, not he!
"Science!" he boasted, "science is everything! It's study does
it! Knowledge is power! To vanquish the myrmidons of despotism,
we must have science. That is why I am an engineer with the rank
of Colonel."
And Monsieur Tudesco went on to relate how he was charged with
very special duties--to discover the underground passages which
the instruments of tyranny had dug beneath the capital, tunnelling
under the two branches of the Seine, for the transport of munitions
of war. At the head of a gang of navvies, he inspected the palaces,
hospitals, barracks and religious houses, breaking up cellars
and staving in drain-pipes. Science! science is everything! He
also inspected the crypts of churches, to unearth traces of the
priests' lubricity. Knowledge is power!
After the bitter came absinthe, and Colonel Tudesco proposed
for Servien's consideration a lucrative post at the Delegacy for
Foreign Affairs.
But Jean shook his head. He felt tired and had lost all heart.
"I see what it is," cried the Colonel, patting him on the shoulder;
"you are young and in love. There are two spirits breathe their
inspiration alternately in the ear of mankind--Love and Ambition.
Love speaks the first; and you are still hearkening to his voice,
my young friend."
Jean, who had drunk _his_ share of absinthe, confessed that he
was deeper in love than ever and that he was jealous. He related
the episode of the staircase and inveighed bitterly against Monsieur
Bargemont. Nor did he fail to identify his case with the good of
the Commune, by making out Gabrielle's lover to be a Bonapartist
and an enemy of the people.
Colonel Tudesco drew a note-book from his pocket, inscribed
Bargemont's name and address in it, and cried:
"If the man has not fled like a poltroon, we will make a hostage
of him! I am the friend of the Citizen Delegate in charge of
the Prefecture of Police, and I say it: you shall be avenged
on the infamous Bargemont! Have you read the decree concerning
hostages? No? Read it then; it is an inimitable monument of the
wisdom of the people.
"I tear myself regretfully from your company, my young friend.
But I must be gone to discover an underground passage the Sisters
of Marie-Joseph, in their contumacy, have driven right from the
Prison of Saint-Lazare to the Mother Convent in the village of
Argenteuil. It is a long tunnel by which they communicate with
the traitors at Versailles. Come and see me in my quarters at
the General Staff, in the _Place Vendôme_. Farewell and
fraternal greeting!"
Jean paid the Colonel's score and set out for home. The walls
were all plastered over with posters and proclamations. He read
one that was half hidden under bulletins of victories:
"Article IV. _All persons detained in custody by the verdict
of the jury of accusation shall be hostages of the people of
Paris._
"Article V. _Every execution of a prisoner of war or a partisan
of the government of the Commune of Paris shall be followed by
the instant execution of thrice the number of hostages detained
in virtue of Article IV, the same being chosen by lot._"
He frowned dubiously and asked himself:
"Can it be I have denounced a man as hostage?"
But his fears were soon allayed; Colonel Tudesco was only a wind-bag,
and could not really arrest people. Besides, was it credible
that Bargemont, head of a Ministerial Department, was still in
Paris? And after all, if he did come to harm, well, so much the
worse for him!