INSTALLATION.
I have already said that nature had gifted me with strong legs, and
it was in days like the present that I appreciated the gift.
As yet, I knew not sufficient of Paris to be enabled to extricate
myself from the labyrinth of streets which joined the Rue St.
Honoré, and which stretched from the Rue Aubry le Boucher to the
Rue Boucherat, so that I spent six or seven minutes in making the
necessary inquiries, and at last arrived.
I saw a sombre house in a sombre street. It was No. 7. I mounted a
dark-looking staircase, and arrived at the second floor.
Three doors opened on the landing: one of them bore an inscription:—
“Le Citoyen Maximilian de Robespierre, et Deputé à l’Assemblée
Nationale.”
I knocked.
I heard footsteps approaching the door, and then stop cautiously.
“Is it you, Maximilian?” asked a voice, in which could be discerned
traces of emotion.
“No, mademoiselle,” I replied; “but I bring news of him.”
The door was quickly opened.
“Nothing has happened to him?” asked a stately female of about forty
years.
“Here are a few words to reassure you,” I replied.
I then handed her the letter.
It was too dark for her to be enabled to read it in the passage on
the landing.
Mademoiselle de Robespierre re-entered the apartment, inviting me to
follow her.
I entered a sort of dining-room, opening on a study and bed-room.
All was cold, cheerless, and almost unfurnished. If not actually
miserable, it was far below mediocrity.
Mademoiselle Robespierre read her brother’s letter.
“When my brother thinks it needless to tell me where he is, he has
his reasons. You have seen him, sir?”
“I have just left him, mademoiselle.”
“Nothing has happened to him?”
“Nothing.”
“Give him my congratulations, sir, and thank for me those people who
have been hospitable to him. I would that, after the long walk you
have had, I could offer you refreshment; but my brother is so sober,
and has such few wants, that we have naught but water in the house.”
At this moment, the tramp of footsteps was heard in the corridor. A
woman showed herself at the door of the dining-room, and, dimly, a
man could be perceived behind her.
Despite the semi-darkness, I recognised the female, and could not
resist crying out, “Madame Roland!”
Mademoiselle Robespierre repeated, in an accent of astonishment,
“Madame Roland!”
“Yes, I, myself, mademoiselle, and my husband, who, hearing that
Robespierre has been threatened by his enemies, are come to offer him
a shelter in our little house at the corner of the Rue Guenegaud.”
“I thank you in my brother’s name, madame,” replied Mademoiselle
Charlotte, with dignity. “He has already found the asylum which
you so nobly offer him, and which I know not myself. Here is the
gentleman who brought the news,” continued she, pointing me out to
Madame Roland.
“That proves, mademoiselle,” said, in his turn, the Citizen Roland,
“that other citizens are more favored than we;” and remarking that
he was unwilling to intrude longer on her privacy, he bowed, and
departed with his wife.
As my errand was fulfilled, I followed them, and returned in close
conversation with them. Madame Roland was at the Jacobin Club when
the paid guard made an irruption among them.
The terror was such among the few members of the society present,
that one of them, anxious to escape, escaladed the gallery set aside
for women. Madame Roland made him ashamed of himself, and compelled
him to descend the way that he had come.
They asked me about Robespierre. I told them that I was not
authorized to inform them of his place of shelter, but only could
assure them that he was in a place of safety among people who would
die for him.
Madame Roland asked me to tell Robespierre that they would bring him
to trial—that is to say, accuse him that evening at the Feuillants.
In that certainty, she and her husband were going to M. Buzal, to
pray him to defend his colleague.
We separated at the top of the Pont Neuf—M. Roland and Madame to go
down the Rue du Roule. I to follow the Rue St. Honoré.
It was quite night when I arrived at Duplay’s. Félicién had rejoined
the family during my absence; they were at table, and he regarded
askance the new arrival, who took the place of honor between Madame
Duplay and Mademoiselle Cornelie. I told M. Robespierre all about the
fulfilment of my message, and reported to him his sister’s reply.
I told him also that M. and Madame Roland had paid a visit to his
house.
Here he interrupted, and repeated after me,—“Citizen Roland!
Citizeness Roland!”
He appeared so astonished at the visit, that he was some time asking
me the cause.
I took my place at the table.
“Monsieur,” said Robespierre, after a moment’s silence, with his
habitual politeness, “does it please you to serve me to the end?”
“Not only will it be an honor, and a pleasure,” replied I, “but a
duty.”
“Well,” said he, “this time you have only a few steps to go, and I
shall not have to write a letter. Go to the Rue St. Anne; on the
left-hand side, in going up the street, by the Boulevards, you will
see the Hotel de Berry; there you will inquire for a young man named
St. Just. He lives on the fourth floor, in a room overlooking the
court. If he be at home, tell him that I want him. My kind host, I
hope, will allow me to receive him here. At present, this young man
is of no account, but one day he will lead us all. If he be not at
home, well; you leave your name and the address of this house, where
I have found such good friends, and such noble protectors, and under
the address you write, ‘Urgent for the sake of the public safety.’
Whenever he returns, he will come straight here, you may be sure.”
I wished to leave the table, but, placing his hand on my shoulder, he
said, “Finish your supper. I am not in so great a hurry, and we have
all the night before us.”
Five minutes after, I was proceeding up the Rue St. Anne.
The Hotel de Berry led out of the Rue Neuve des Petits-champs and the
Rue Neuve St. Augustin.
I asked for Citizen St. Just.
The concierge threw his eyes over the keys hung on the wall, and saw
that of St. Just was not there.
“No. 19, fourth story, at the bottom of the corridor.”
I mounted a dark staircase, and found the indicated corridor, and in
that corridor, No. 19.
I knocked; a powerful voice said, “Come in!”
I turned the key in the lock, and saw a young man in his
shirt-sleeves, working by an open window at the correction of proofs.
He was so absorbed in his work, that I approached and touched him
before he turned round.
The book, the proofs of which he was correcting, was, I could see,
entitled, “Mespasse temps ou le Voirvel organe.”
The preoccupation of the young poet was caused by the desire to find
a rhyme.
The rhyme found, he turned to me.
“Pardon,” said he; “what want you?”
“Citizen St. Just,” replied I, “I come on behalf of Citizen
Robespierre.”
“You?”
“Yes. He desires your presence immediately.”
“Where?”
“If you are not prepared, I will leave you the address; but if you
are, I will conduct you thither.”
“Is he at the Rue Saintange?”
“No; he is close by here—in the Rue St. Honoré.”
“At the Jacobins?”
“There are no longer Jacobins. The club is dead.”
“Who dared do it?”
“The paid guard, who, an hour before, dared do another thing.”
“What was the other thing?”
“Fire on the people at the Champ de Mars—slay, perchance, six or
seven hundred persons!”
St. Just shouted with rage.
“What! you a patriot—the friend of M. Robespierre,—and not know
better than that what takes place in Paris?” said I.
“I promised my publisher to have those proofs corrected by Thursday;
and in order to accomplish this I told the servant not to disturb me
for anything. He brought my breakfast in my chamber, and here is my
dinner already served. I have not had time to eat. I knew last night
from the Jacobins they must withdraw the petition; and I doubted
not that, the petition withdrawn, there might be a disturbance at
the Champ de Mars. But let us not lose a moment. Since Robespierre
requires me, I am at his orders.”
The young man put on a white waistcoat, irreproachable in its
cleanliness; a gray coat; a sword and dagger he hung at his side;
then took his hat, and said but the words, “Show the way!”
I went in front, and he followed.