XXVI
The sun of Thermidor was setting in a blood-red sky, while Evaristewandered, gloomy and careworn, in the Marbeuf gardens, now a Nationalpark frequented by the Parisian idlers. There were stalls for the saleof lemonade and ices; wooden horses and shooting-galleries were providedfor the younger patriots. Under a tree, a little Savoyard in rags, witha black cap on his head, was making a marmot dance to the shrill notesof his hurdy-gurdy. A man, still young, slim-waisted, wearing a bluecoat and his hair powdered, with a big dog at his heels, stopped tolisten to the rustic music. Evariste recognized Robespierre. He foundhim paler, thinner, his face harder and drawn in folds of suffering. Hethought to himself:
"What fatigues, how many griefs have left their imprint on his brow! Howgrievous a thing it is to work for the happiness of mankind! What arehis thoughts at this moment? Does the sound of this mountain musicperhaps distract him from the cares of government? Is he thinking thathe has made a pact with Death and that the hour of reckoning is comingclose? Is he dreaming of a triumphant return to the Committee of PublicSafety, from which he withdrew, weary of being held in check, withCouthon and Saint-Just, by a seditious majority? Behind thatimpenetrable countenance what hopes are seething or what fears?"
But Maximilien smiled at the lad, in a gentle, kind voice asked himseveral questions about his native valley, the humble home and parentsthe poor child had left behind, tossed him a small piece of silver andresumed his stroll. After taking a few steps, he turned round again tocall his dog; sniffing at the marmot, it was showing its teeth at thelittle creature that bristled up in defiance.
"To heel, Brount!" he called, "to heel!"--and he plunged among the darktrees.
Gamelin, out of respect, did not interrupt his lonely walk; but, as hegazed after the slender form disappearing in the darkness, he mentallyaddressed his hero in these impassioned words:
"I have seen thy sadness, Maximilien; I have understood thy thought. Thymelancholy, thy fatigue, even the look of fear that stamps thy face,everything says: 'Let the reign of terror end and that of fraternitybegin! Frenchmen, be united, be virtuous, be good and kind. Love ye oneanother....' Well then, I will second your designs; that you, in yourwisdom and goodness, may be able to put an end to our civil discord, toour fratricidal hate, turn the headsman into a gardener who willhenceforth cut off only the heads of cabbages and lettuces. I will pavethe way with my colleagues of the Tribunal that must lead to clemency byexterminating conspirators and traitors. We will redouble our vigilanceand our severity. No culprit shall escape us. And when the head of thelast enemy of the Republic shall have fallen under the knife, then itwill be given thee to be merciful without committing a crime, then thoucanst inaugurate the reign of innocence and virtue in all the land, oh!father of thy country!"
The Incorruptible was already almost out of sight. Two men in round hatsand nankeen breeches, one of whom, a tall, lean man of a wild, unkemptaspect, had a blur on one eye and resembled Tallien, met him at thecorner of an avenue, looked at him askance and passed on, pretending notto recognize him. When they had gone far enough to be out of hearing,they muttered under their breath:
"So there he goes, the King, the Pope, the God. For he is God; andCatherine Theot is his prophetess."
"Dictator, traitor, tyrant! the race of Brutus is not extinct."
"Tremble, malefactor! the Tarpeian rock is near the Capitol!"
The dog Brount ran towards the pair. They said no more and quickenedtheir pace.