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diff --git a/1456-0.txt b/1456-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ea22e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/1456-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,749 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1456 *** + +AN EPISODE UNDER THE TERROR + + +By Honore De Balzac + + + +Translated by Clara Bell and Others + + + + DEDICATION + + To Monsieur Guyonnet-Merville. + + Is it not a necessity to explain to a public curious to know + everything, how I came to be sufficiently learned in the law to + carry on the business of my little world? And in so doing, am I + not bound to put on record the memory of the amiable and + intelligent man who, meeting the Scribe (another clerk-amateur) at + a ball, said, "Just give the office a turn; there is work for you + there, I assure you." But do you need this public testimony to + feel assured of the affection of the writer? + + DE BALZAC. + + + + + +AN EPISODE UNDER THE TERROR + + +On the 22nd of January, 1793, towards eight o'clock in the evening, an +old lady came down the steep street that comes to an end opposite the +Church of Saint Laurent in the Faubourg Saint Martin. It had snowed so +heavily all day long that the lady's footsteps were scarcely audible; +the streets were deserted, and a feeling of dread, not unnatural amid +the silence, was further increased by the whole extent of the Terror +beneath which France was groaning in those days; what was more, the old +lady so far had met no one by the way. Her sight had long been failing, +so that the few foot passengers dispersed like shadows in the distance +over the wide thoroughfare through the faubourg, were quite invisible to +her by the light of the lanterns. + +She had passed the end of the Rue des Morts, when she fancied that she +could hear the firm, heavy tread of a man walking behind her. Then it +seemed to her that she had heard that sound before, and dismayed by the +idea of being followed, she tried to walk faster toward a brightly lit +shop window, in the hope of verifying the suspicions which had taken +hold of her mind. + +So soon as she stood in the shaft of light that streamed out across the +road, she turned her head suddenly, and caught sight of a human figure +looming through the fog. The dim vision was enough for her. For one +moment she reeled beneath an overpowering weight of dread, for she could +not doubt any longer that the man had followed her the whole way from +her own door; then the desire to escape from the spy gave her strength. +Unable to think clearly, she walked twice as fast as before, as if it +were possible to escape from a man who of course could move much faster; +and for some minutes she fled on, till, reaching a pastry-cook's shop, +she entered and sank rather than sat down upon a chair by the counter. + +A young woman busy with embroidery looked up from her work at +the rattling of the door-latch, and looked out through the square +window-panes. She seemed to recognize the old-fashioned violet silk +mantle, for she went at once to a drawer as if in search of something +put aside for the newcomer. Not only did this movement and the +expression of the woman's face show a very evident desire to be rid as +soon as possible of an unwelcome visitor, but she even permitted herself +an impatient exclamation when the drawer proved to be empty. Without +looking at the lady, she hurried from her desk into the back shop and +called to her husband, who appeared at once. + +"Wherever have you put?----" she began mysteriously, glancing at the +customer by way of finishing her question. + +The pastry-cook could only see the old lady's head-dress, a huge black +silk bonnet with knots of violet ribbon round it, but he looked at his +wife as if to say, "Did you think I should leave such a thing as that +lying about in your drawer?" and then vanished. + +The old lady kept so still and silent that the shopkeeper's wife was +surprised. She went back to her, and on a nearer view a sudden impulse +of pity, blended perhaps with curiosity, got the better of her. The +old lady's face was naturally pale; she looked as though she secretly +practised austerities; but it was easy to see that she was paler than +usual from recent agitation of some kind. Her head-dress was so arranged +as to almost hide hair that was white, no doubt with age, for there was +not a trace of powder on the collar of her dress. The extreme plainness +of her dress lent an air of austerity to her face, and her features were +proud and grave. The manners and habits of people of condition were so +different from those of other classes in former times that a noble was +easily known, and the shopkeeper's wife felt persuaded that her customer +was a _ci-devant_, and that she had been about the Court. + +"Madame," she began with involuntary respect, forgetting that the title +was proscribed. + +But the old lady made no answer. She was staring fixedly at the shop +windows as though some dreadful thing had taken shape against the panes. +The pastry-cook came back at that moment, and drew the lady from her +musings, by holding out a little cardboard box wrapped in blue paper. + +"What is the matter, citoyenne?" he asked. + +"Nothing, nothing, my friends," she answered, in a gentle voice. She +looked up at the man as she spoke, as if to thank him by a glance; but +she saw the red cap on his head, and a cry broke from her. "Ah! _You_ +have betrayed me!" + +The man and his young wife replied by an indignant gesture, that brought +the color to the old lady's face; perhaps she felt relief, perhaps she +blushed for her suspicions. + +"Forgive me!" she said, with a childlike sweetness in her tones. +Then, drawing a gold louis from her pocket, she held it out to the +pastry-cook. "That is the price agreed upon," she added. + +There is a kind of want that is felt instinctively by those who know +want. The man and his wife looked at one another, then at the elderly +woman before them, and read the same thoughts in each other's eyes. That +bit of gold was so plainly the last. Her hands shook a little as she +held it out, looking at it sadly but ungrudgingly, as one who knows the +full extent of the sacrifice. Hunger and penury had carved lines as easy +to read in her face as the traces of asceticism and fear. There +were vestiges of bygone splendor in her clothes. She was dressed in +threadbare silk, a neat but well-worn mantle, and daintily mended +lace,--in the rags of former grandeur, in short. The shopkeeper and his +wife, drawn two ways by pity and self-interest, began by lulling their +consciences with words. + +"You seem very poorly, citoyenne----" + +"Perhaps madame might like to take something," the wife broke in. + +"We have some very nice broth," added the pastry-cook. + +"And it is so cold," continued his wife; "perhaps you have caught a +chill, madame, on your way here. But you can rest and warm yourself a +bit." + +"We are not so black as the devil!" cried the man. + +The kindly intention in the words and tones of the charitable couple +won the old lady's confidence. She said that a strange man had been +following her, and she was afraid to go home alone. + +"Is that all!" returned he of the red bonnet; "wait for me, citoyenne." + +He handed the gold coin to his wife, and then went out to put on his +National Guard's uniform, impelled thereto by the idea of making some +adequate return for the money; an idea that sometimes slips into a +tradesman's head when he has been prodigiously overpaid for goods of no +great value. He took up his cap, buckled on his sabre, and came out in +full dress. But his wife had had time to reflect, and reflection, as not +unfrequently happens, closed the hand that kindly intentions had opened. +Feeling frightened and uneasy lest her husband might be drawn into +something unpleasant, she tried to catch at the skirt of his coat, to +hold him back, but he, good soul, obeying his charitable first thought, +brought out his offer to see the lady home, before his wife could stop +him. + +"The man of whom the citoyenne is afraid is still prowling about the +shop, it seems," she said sharply. + +"I am afraid so," said the lady innocently. + +"How if it is a spy?... a plot?... Don't go. And take the box away from +her----" + +The words whispered in the pastry-cook's ear cooled his hot fit of +courage down to zero. + +"Oh! I will just go out and say a word or two. I will rid you of him +soon enough," he exclaimed, as he bounced out of the shop. + +The old lady meanwhile, passive as a child and almost dazed, sat down +on her chair again. But the honest pastry-cook came back directly. +A countenance red enough to begin with, and further flushed by the +bake-house fire, was suddenly blanched; such terror perturbed him that +he reeled as he walked, and stared about him like a drunken man. + +"Miserable aristocrat! Do you want to have our heads cut off?" he +shouted furiously. "You just take to your heels and never show yourself +here again. Don't come to me for materials for your plots." + +He tried, as he spoke, to take away the little box which she had slipped +into one of her pockets. But at the touch of a profane hand on her +clothes, the stranger recovered youth and activity for a moment, +preferring to face the dangers of the street with no protector save God, +to the loss of the thing she had just paid for. She sprang to the door, +flung it open, and disappeared, leaving the husband and wife dumfounded +and quaking with fright. + +Once outside in the street, she started away at a quick walk; but her +strength soon failed her. She heard the sound of the snow crunching +under a heavy step, and knew that the pitiless spy was on her track. She +was obliged to stop. He stopped likewise. From sheer terror, or lack +of intelligence, she did not dare to speak or to look at him. She went +slowly on; the man slackened his pace and fell behind so that he could +still keep her in sight. He might have been her very shadow. + +Nine o'clock struck as the silent man and woman passed again by the +Church of Saint Laurent. It is in the nature of things that calm must +succeed to violent agitation, even in the weakest soul; for if feeling +is infinite, our capacity to feel is limited. So, as the stranger lady +met with no harm from her supposed persecutor, she tried to look upon +him as an unknown friend anxious to protect her. She thought of all the +circumstances in which the stranger had appeared, and put them together, +as if to find some ground for this comforting theory, and felt inclined +to credit him with good intentions rather than bad. + +Forgetting the fright that he had given the pastry-cook, she walked on +with a firmer step through the upper end of the Faubourg Saint Martin; +and another half-hour's walk brought her to a house at the corner where +the road to the Barriere de Pantin turns off from the main thoroughfare. +Even at this day, the place is one of the least frequented parts of +Paris. The north wind sweeps over the Buttes-Chaumont and Belleville, +and whistles through the houses (the Hovels rather), scattered over an +almost uninhabited low-lying waste, Where the fences are heaps of earth +and bones. It was a desolate-looking place, a fitting refuge for despair +and misery. + +The sight of it appeared to make an impression upon the relentless +pursuer of a poor creature so daring as to walk alone at night through +the silent streets. He stood in thought, and seemed by his attitude to +hesitate. She could see him dimly now, under the street lamp that sent a +faint, flickering light through the fog. Fear gave her eyes. She saw, or +thought she saw, something sinister about the stranger's features. Her +old terrors awoke; she took advantage of a kind of hesitation on his +part, slipped through the shadows to the door of the solitary house, +pressed a spring, and vanished swiftly as a phantom. + +For awhile the stranger stood motionless, gazing up at the house. It +was in some sort a type of the wretched dwellings in the suburb; a +tumble-down hovel, built of rough stones, daubed over with a coat of +yellowish stucco, and so riven with great cracks that there seemed to +be danger lest the slightest puff of wind might blow it down. The roof, +covered with brown moss-grown tiles, had given way in several places, +and looked as though it might break down altogether under the weight of +the snow. The frames of the three windows on each story were rotten with +damp and warped by the sun; evidently the cold must find its way inside. +The house standing thus quite by itself looked like some old tower +that Time had forgotten to destroy. A faint light shone from the attic +windows pierced at irregular distances in the roof; otherwise the whole +building was in total darkness. + +Meanwhile the old lady climbed not without difficulty up the rough, +clumsily built staircase, with a rope by way of a hand-rail. At the door +of the lodging in the attic she stopped and tapped mysteriously; an old +man brought forward a chair for her. She dropped into it at once. + +"Hide! hide!" she exclaimed, looking up at him. "Seldom as we leave the +house, everything that we do is known, and every step is watched----" + +"What is it now?" asked another elderly woman, sitting by the fire. + +"The man that has been prowling about the house yesterday and to-day, +followed me to-night----" + +At those words all three dwellers in the wretched den looked in each +other's faces and did not try to dissimulate the profound dread that +they felt. The old priest was the least overcome, probably because +he ran the greatest danger. If a brave man is weighed down by great +calamities or the yoke of persecution, he begins, as it were, by making +the sacrifice of himself; and thereafter every day of his life becomes +one more victory snatched from fate. But from the way in which the women +looked at him it was easy to see that their intense anxiety was on his +account. + +"Why should our faith in God fail us, my sisters?" he said, in low but +fervent tones. "We sang His praises through the shrieks of murderers and +their victims at the Carmelites. If it was His will that I should come +alive out of that butchery, it was, no doubt, because I was reserved for +some fate which I am bound to endure without murmuring. God will protect +His own; He can do with them according to His will. It is for you, not +for me that we must think." + +"No," answered one of the women. "What is our life compared to a +priest's life?" + +"Once outside the Abbaye de Chelles, I look upon myself as dead," added +the nun who had not left the house, while the Sister that had just +returned held out the little box to the priest. + +"Here are the wafers... but I can hear some one coming up the stairs." + +At this, the three began to listen. The sound ceased. + +"Do not be alarmed if somebody tries to come in," said the priest. +"Somebody on whom we could depend was to make all necessary arrangements +for crossing the frontier. He is to come for the letters that I have +written to the Duc de Langeais and the Marquis de Beauseant, asking them +to find some way of taking you out of this dreadful country, and away +from the death or the misery that waits for you here." + +"But are you not going to follow us?" the nuns cried under their breath, +almost despairingly. + +"My post is here where the sufferers are," the priest said simply, +and the women said no more, but looked at their guest in reverent +admiration. He turned to the nun with the wafers. + +"Sister Marthe," he said, "the messenger will say _Fiat Voluntas_ in +answer to the word _Hosanna_." + +"There is some one on the stairs!" cried the other nun, opening a +hiding-place contrived in the roof. + +This time it was easy to hear, amid the deepest silence, a sound echoing +up the staircase; it was a man's tread on the steps covered with dried +lumps of mud. With some difficulty the priest slipped into a kind of +cupboard, and the nun flung some clothes over him. + +"You can shut the door, Sister Agathe," he said in a muffled voice. + +He was scarcely hidden before three raps sounded on the door. The holy +women looked into each other's eyes for counsel, and dared not say a +single word. + +They seemed both to be about sixty years of age. They had lived out of +the world for forty years, and had grown so accustomed to the life of +the convent that they could scarcely imagine any other. To them, as to +plants kept in a hot-house, a change of air meant death. And so, when +the grating was broken down one morning, they knew with a shudder that +they were free. The effect produced by the Revolution upon their simple +souls is easy to imagine; it produced a temporary imbecility not natural +to them. They could not bring the ideas learned in the convent into +harmony with life and its difficulties; they could not even understand +their own position. They were like children whom mothers have always +cared for, deserted by their maternal providence. And as a child cries, +they betook themselves to prayer. Now, in the presence of imminent +danger, they were mute and passive, knowing no defence save Christian +resignation. + +The man at the door, taking silence for consent, presented himself, and +the women shuddered. This was the prowler that had been making inquiries +about them for some time past. But they looked at him with frightened +curiosity, much as shy children stare silently at a stranger; and +neither of them moved. + +The newcomer was a tall, burly man. Nothing in his behavior, bearing, +or expression suggested malignity as, following the example set by the +nuns, he stood motionless, while his eyes traveled round the room. + +Two straw mats laid upon planks did duty as beds. On the one table, +placed in the middle of the room, stood a brass candlestick, several +plates, three knives, and a round loaf. A small fire burned in the +grate. A few bits of wood in a heap in a corner bore further witness +to the poverty of the recluses. You had only to look at the coating of +paint on the walls to discover the bad condition of the roof, and the +ceiling was a perfect network of brown stains made by rain-water. A +relic, saved no doubt from the wreck of the Abbaye de Chelles, stood +like an ornament on the chimney-piece. Three chairs, two boxes, and a +rickety chest of drawers completed the list of the furniture, but a door +beside the fireplace suggested an inner room beyond. + +The brief inventory was soon made by the personage introduced into +their midst under such terrible auspices. It was with a compassionate +expression that he turned to the two women; he looked benevolently at +them, and seemed, at least, as much embarrassed as they. But the +strange silence did not last long, for presently the stranger began to +understand. He saw how inexperienced, how helpless (mentally speaking), +the two poor creatures were, and he tried to speak gently. + +"I am far from coming as an enemy, citoyennes----" he began. Then he +suddenly broke off and went on, "Sisters, if anything should happen to +you, believe me, I shall have no share in it. I have come to ask a favor +of you." + +Still the women were silent. + +"If I am annoying you--if--if I am intruding, speak freely, and I will +go; but you must understand that I am entirely at your service; that if +I can do anything for you, you need not fear to make use of me. I, and I +only, perhaps, am above the law, since there is no King now." + +There was such a ring of sincerity in the words that Sister Agathe +hastily pointed to a chair as if to bid their guest be seated. Sister +Agathe came of the house of Langeais; her manner seemed to indicate that +once she had been familiar with brilliant scenes, and had breathed the +air of courts. The stranger seemed half pleased, half distressed when +he understood her invitation; he waited to sit down until the women were +seated. + +"You are giving shelter to a reverend father who refused to take the +oath, and escaped the massacres at the Carmelites by a miracle----" + +"_Hosanna_!" Sister Agathe exclaimed eagerly, interrupting the stranger, +while she watched him with curious eyes. + +"That is not the name, I think," he said. + +"But, monsieur," Sister Marthe broke in quickly, "we have no priest +here, and----" + +"In that case you should be more careful and on your guard," he answered +gently, stretching out his hand for a breviary that lay on the table. "I +do not think that you know Latin, and----" + +He stopped; for, at the sight of the great emotion in the faces of +the two poor nuns, he was afraid that he had gone too far. They were +trembling, and the tears stood in their eyes. + +"Do not fear," he said frankly. "I know your names and the name of +your guest. Three days ago I heard of your distress and devotion to the +venerable Abbe de----" + +"Hush!" Sister Agathe cried, in the simplicity of her heart, as she laid +her finger on her lips. + +"You see, Sisters, that if I had conceived the horrible idea of +betraying you, I could have given you up already, more than once----" + +At the words the priest came out of his hiding-place and stood in their +midst. + +"I cannot believe, monsieur, that you can be one of our persecutors," he +said, addressing the stranger, "and I trust you. What do you want with +me?" + +The priest's holy confidence, the nobleness expressed in every line in +his face, would have disarmed a murderer. For a moment the mysterious +stranger, who had brought an element of excitement into lives of misery +and resignation, gazed at the little group; then he turned to the priest +and said, as if making a confidence, "Father, I came to beg you to +celebrate a mass for the repose of the soul of--of--of an august +personage whose body will never rest in consecrated earth----" + +Involuntarily the abbe shivered. As yet, neither of the Sisters +understood of whom the stranger was speaking; they sat with their heads +stretched out and faces turned towards the speaker, curiosity in their +whole attitude. The priest meanwhile, was scrutinizing the stranger; +there was no mistaking the anxiety in the man's face, the ardent +entreaty in his eyes. + +"Very well," returned the abbe. "Come back at midnight. I shall be ready +to celebrate the only funeral service that it is in our power to offer +in expiation of the crime of which you speak." + +A quiver ran through the stranger, but a sweet yet sober satisfaction +seemed to prevail over a hidden anguish. He took his leave respectfully, +and the three generous souls felt his unspoken gratitude. + +Two hours later, he came back and tapped at the garret door. +Mademoiselle de Beauseant showed the way into the second room of their +humble lodging. Everything had been made ready. The Sisters had moved +the old chest of drawers between the two chimneys, and covered its +quaint outlines over with a splendid altar cloth of green watered silk. + +The bare walls looked all the barer, because the one thing that hung +there was the great ivory and ebony crucifix, which of necessity +attracted the eyes. Four slender little altar candles, which the Sisters +had contrived to fasten into their places with sealing-wax, gave a +faint, pale light, almost absorbed by the walls; the rest of the room +lay well-nigh in the dark. But the dim brightness, concentrated upon +the holy things, looked like a ray from Heaven shining down upon the +unadorned shrine. The floor was reeking with damp. An icy wind swept in +through the chinks here and there, in a roof that rose sharply on either +side, after the fashion of attic roofs. Nothing could be less imposing; +yet perhaps, too, nothing could be more solemn than this mournful +ceremony. A silence so deep that they could have heard the faintest +sound of a voice on the Route d'Allemagne, invested the night-piece with +a kind of sombre majesty; while the grandeur of the service--all the +grander for the strong contrast with the poor surroundings--produced a +feeling of reverent awe. + +The Sisters kneeling on each side of the altar, regardless of the +deadly chill from the wet brick floor, were engaged in prayer, while the +priest, arrayed in pontifical vestments, brought out a golden chalice +set with gems; doubtless one of the sacred vessels saved from the +pillage of the Abbaye de Chelles. Beside a ciborium, the gift of royal +munificence, the wine and water for the holy sacrifice of the mass stood +ready in two glasses such as could scarcely be found in the meanest +tavern. For want of a missal, the priest had laid his breviary on the +altar, and a common earthenware plate was set for the washing of hands +that were pure and undefiled with blood. It was all so infinitely great, +yet so little, poverty-stricken yet noble, a mingling of sacred and +profane. + +The stranger came forward reverently to kneel between the two nuns. But +the priest had tied crape round the chalice of the crucifix, having no +other way of marking the mass as a funeral service; it was as if God +himself had been in mourning. The man suddenly noticed this, and the +sight appeared to call up some overwhelming memory, for great drops of +sweat stood out on his broad forehead. + +Then the four silent actors in the scene looked mysteriously at one +another; and their souls in emulation seemed to stir and communicate the +thoughts within them until all were melted into one feeling of awe and +pity. It seemed to them that the royal martyr whose remains had been +consumed with quicklime, had been called up by their yearning and now +stood, a shadow in their midst, in all the majesty of a king. They +were celebrating an anniversary service for the dead whose body lay +elsewhere. Under the disjointed laths and tiles, four Christians were +holding a funeral service without a coffin, and putting up prayers to +God for the soul of a King of France. No devotion could be purer than +this. It was a wonderful act of faith achieved without an afterthought. +Surely in the sight of God it was like the cup of cold water which +counterbalances the loftiest virtues. The prayers put up by two feeble +nuns and a priest represented the whole Monarchy, and possibly at the +same time, the Revolution found expression in the stranger, for the +remorse in his face was so great that it was impossible not to think +that he was fulfilling the vows of a boundless repentance. + +When the priest came to the Latin words, _Introibo ad altare Dei_, +a sudden divine inspiration flashed upon him; he looked at the three +kneeling figures, the representatives of Christian France, and said +instead, as though to blot out the poverty of the garret, "We are about +to enter the Sanctuary of God!" + +These words, uttered with thrilling earnestness, struck reverent awe +into the nuns and the stranger. Under the vaulted roof of St. Peter's at +Rome, God would not have revealed Himself in greater majesty than here +for the eyes of the Christians in that poor refuge; so true is it that +all intermediaries between God and the soul of man are superfluous, and +all the grandeur of God proceeds from Himself alone. + +The stranger's fervor was sincere. One emotion blended the prayers of +the four servants of God and the King in a single supplication. The holy +words rang like the music of heaven through the silence. At one moment, +tears gathered in the stranger's eyes. This was during the _Pater +Noster_; for the priest added a petition in Latin, and his audience +doubtless understood him when he said: "_Et remitte scelus regicidis +sicut Ludovicus eis remisit semetipse_"--forgive the regicides as Louis +himself forgave them. + +The Sisters saw two great tears trace a channel down the stranger's +manly checks and fall to the floor. Then the office for the dead was +recited; the Domine salvum fac regem chanted in an undertone that +went to the hearts of the faithful Royalists, for they thought how the +child-King for whom they were praying was even then a captive in the +hands of his enemies; and a shudder ran through the stranger, as he +thought that a new crime might be committed, and that he could not +choose but take his part in it. + +The service came to an end. The priest made a sign to the sisters, and +they withdrew. As soon as he was left alone with the stranger, he went +towards him with a grave, gentle face, and said in fatherly tones: + +"My son, if your hands are stained with the blood of the royal martyr, +confide in me. There is no sin that may not be blotted out in the sight +of God by penitence as sincere and touching as yours appears to be." + +At the first words the man started with terror, in spite of himself. +Then he recovered composure, and looked quietly at the astonished +priest. + +"Father," he said, and the other could not miss the tremor in his voice, +"no one is more guiltless than I of the blood shed----" + +"I am bound to believe you," said the priest. He paused a moment, and +again he scrutinized his penitent. But, persisting in the idea that +the man before him was one of the members of the Convention, one of the +voters who betrayed an inviolable and anointed head to save their own, +he began again gravely: + +"Remember, my son, that it is not enough to have taken no active part in +the great crime; that fact does not absolve you. The men who might have +defended the King and left their swords in their scabbards, will have a +very heavy account to render to the King of Heaven--Ah! yes," he added, +with an eloquent shake of the head, "heavy indeed!--for by doing nothing +they became accomplices in the awful wickedness----" + +"But do you think that an indirect participation will be punished?" the +stranger asked with a bewildered look. "There is the private soldier +commanded to fall into line--is he actually responsible?" + +The priest hesitated. The stranger was glad; he had put the Royalist +precisian in a dilemma, between the dogma of passive obedience on the +one hand (for the upholders of the Monarchy maintained that obedience +was the first principle of military law), and the equally important +dogma which turns respect for the person of a King into a matter of +religion. In the priest's indecision he was eager to see a favorable +solution of the doubts which seemed to torment him. To prevent too +prolonged reflection on the part of the reverend Jansenist, he added: + +"I should blush to offer remuneration of any kind for the funeral +service which you have just performed for the repose of the King's soul +and the relief of my conscience. The only possible return for something +of inestimable value is an offering likewise beyond price. Will you +deign, monsieur, to take my gift of a holy relic? A day will perhaps +come when you will understand its value." + +As he spoke the stranger held out a box; it was very small and +exceedingly light. The priest took it mechanically, as it were, so +astonished was he by the man's solemn words, the tones of his voice, and +the reverence with which he held out the gift. + +The two men went back together into the first room. The Sisters were +waiting for them. + +"This house that you are living in belongs to Mucius Scaevola, the +plasterer on the first floor," he said. "He is well known in the Section +for his patriotism, but in reality he is an adherent of the Bourbons. +He used to be a huntsman in the service of his Highness the Prince de +Conti, and he owes everything to him. So long as you stay in the house, +you are safer here than anywhere else in France. Do not go out. Pious +souls will minister to your necessities, and you can wait in safety for +better times. Next year, on the 21st of January,"--he could not hide an +involuntary shudder as he spoke,--"next year, if you are still in this +dreary refuge, I will come back again to celebrate the expiatory mass +with you----" + +He broke off, bowed to the three, who answered not a word, gave a last +look at the garret with its signs of poverty, and vanished. + +Such an adventure possessed all the interest of a romance in the lives +of the innocent nuns. So, as soon as the venerable abbe told them the +story of the mysterious gift, it was placed upon the table, and by the +feeble light of the tallow dip an indescribable curiosity appeared in +the three anxious faces. Mademoiselle de Langeais opened the box, and +found a very fine lawn handkerchief, soiled with sweat; darker stains +appeared as they unfolded it. + +"That is blood!" exclaimed the priest. + +"It is marked with a royal crown!" cried Sister Agathe. + +The women, aghast, allowed the precious relic to fall. For their simple +souls the mystery that hung about the stranger grew inexplicable; as for +the priest, from that day forth he did not even try to understand it. + + + +Before very long the prisoners knew that, in spite of the Terror, +some powerful hand was extended over them. It began when they received +firewood and provisions; and next the Sisters knew that a woman had lent +counsel to their protector, for linen was sent to them, and clothes +in which they could leave the house without causing remark upon the +aristocrat's dress that they had been forced to wear. After awhile +Mucius Scaevola gave them two civic cards; and often tidings necessary +for the priest's safety came to them in roundabout ways. Warnings and +advice reached them so opportunely that they could only have been sent +by some person in the possession of state secrets. And, at a time when +famine threatened Paris, invisible hands brought rations of "white +bread" for the proscribed women in the wretched garret. Still they +fancied that Citizen Mucius Scaevola was only the mysterious instrument +of a kindness always ingenious, and no less intelligent. + +The noble ladies in the garret could no longer doubt that their +protector was the stranger of the expiatory mass on the night of the +22nd of January, 1793; and a kind of cult of him sprung up among them. +Their one hope was in him; they lived through him. They added special +petitions for him to their prayers; night and morning the pious souls +prayed for his happiness, his prosperity, his safety; entreating God to +remove all snares far from his path, to deliver him from his enemies, +to grant him a long and peaceful life. And with this daily renewed +gratitude, as it may be called, there blended a feeling of curiosity +which grew more lively day by day. They talked over the circumstances +of his first sudden appearance, their conjectures were endless; the +stranger had conferred one more benefit upon them by diverting their +minds. Again, and again, they said, when he next came to see them as he +promised, to celebrate the sad anniversary of the death of Louis XVI., +he could not escape their friendship. + +The night so impatiently awaited came at last. At midnight the old +wooden staircase echoed with the stranger's heavy footsteps. They had +made the best of their room for his coming; the altar was ready, and +this time the door stood open, and the two Sisters were out at the +stairhead, eager to light the way. Mademoiselle de Langeais even came +down a few steps, to meet their benefactor the sooner. + +"Come," she said, with a quaver in the affectionate tones, "come in; we +are expecting you." + +He raised his face, gave her a dark look, and made no answer. The sister +felt as if an icy mantle had fallen over her, and said no more. At the +sight of him, the glow of gratitude and curiosity died away in their +hearts. Perhaps he was not so cold, not so taciturn, not so stern as he +seemed to them, for in their highly wrought mood they were ready to pour +out their feeling of friendship. But the three poor prisoners understood +that he wished to be a stranger to them; and submitted. The priest +fancied that he saw a smile on the man's lips as he saw their +preparations for his visit, but it was at once repressed. He heard mass, +said his prayer, and then disappeared, declining, with a few polite +words, Mademoiselle de Langeais' invitation to partake of the little +collation made ready for him. + +After the 9th Thermidor, the Sisters and the Abbe de Marolles could go +about Paris without the least danger. The first time that the abbe went +out he walked to a perfumer's shop at the sign of _The Queen of Roses_, +kept by the Citizen Ragon and his wife, court perfumers. The Ragons +had been faithful adherents of the Royalist cause; it was through their +means that the Vendean leaders kept up a correspondence with the Princes +and the Royalist Committee in Paris. The abbe, in the ordinary dress of +the time, was standing on the threshold of the shop--which stood between +Saint Roch and the Rue des Frondeurs--when he saw that the Rue Saint +Honore was filled with a crowd and he could not go out. + +"What is the matter?" he asked Madame Ragon. + +"Nothing," she said; "it is only the tumbril cart and the executioner +going to the Place Louis XV. Ah! we used to see it often enough last +year; but to-day, four days after the anniversary of the twenty-first of +January, one does not feel sorry to see the ghastly procession." + +"Why not?" asked the abbe. "That is not said like a Christian." + +"Eh! but it is the execution of Robespierre's accomplices. They defended +themselves as long as they could, but now it is their turn to go where +they sent so many innocent people." + +The crowd poured by like a flood. The abbe, yielding to an impulse of +curiosity, looked up above the heads, and there in the tumbril stood the +man who had heard mass in the garret three days ago. + +"Who is it?" he asked; "who is the man with----" + +"That is the headsman," answered M. Ragon, calling the executioner--the +_executeur des hautes oeuvres_--by the name he had borne under the +Monarchy. + +"Oh! my dear, my dear! M. l'Abbe is dying!" cried out old Madame Ragon. +She caught up a flask of vinegar, and tried to restore the old priest to +consciousness. + +"He must have given me the handkerchief that the King used to wipe his +brow on the way to his martyrdom," murmured he. "... Poor man!... There +was a heart in the steel blade, when none was found in all France..." + +The perfumers thought that the poor abbe was raving. + +PARIS, January 183l. + + + + +ADDENDUM + +The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + + Beauseant, Marquis and Comte de + Father Goriot + + Ragon, M. and Mme. + Cesar Birotteau + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's An Episode Under the Terror, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1456 *** |