CHAPTER XXV.

  MASTER GAMAIN TURNS UP.

  One morning, while these events were occurring at the temple, a manwearing a red shirt and cap to match, leaning on a crutch to help himto hobble along, called on the Home Secretary, Roland. The ministerwas most accessible; but even a republican official was forced to haveushers in his ante-chamber, as went on in monarchical governments.

  "What do you want?" challenged the servant of the man on the crutch.

  "I want to speak with the Citizen Minister," replied the cripple.

  Since a fortnight, the titles of citizen and citizeness had officiallyreplaced all others.

  "You will have to show a letter of audience," replied the domestic.

  "Halloo! I thought that was all very fine fun in the days when thetyrant ruled, but folks ought to be equals under the Republic, or atleast not so aristocratic."

  This remark set the servant thinking.

  "I can tell you that it is no joke," continued the man in red, "todrag all the way from Versailles to do the Secretary of State a serviceand not to get a squint of him."

  "Oh, you come to do Citizen Roland a service, do you?"

  "To show up a conspiracy."

  "Pooh! we are up to our ears in conspiracies. If that is all you camefrom Versailles for, I suggest you get back."

  "I don't mind; but your minister will be deuced sorry for not seeingme."

  "It is the rule. Write to him and get a letter of audience; then youwill get on swimmingly."

  "Hang me if it is not harder to get a word in to Minister Roland thanto his majesty Louis XVI. that was."

  "What do you know about that?"

  "Lord help your ignorance, young man; there was a time when I saw theking whenever I pleased; my name would tell you that."

  "What is your name? Are you King Frederick William or the EmperorFrancis?"

  "No; I am not a tyrant or a slave-driver--no aristo--but just NicholasClaude Gamain, master of the masters of my trade of locksmithery. Didyou never hear of Master Gamain who taught the craft to old Capet?"

  The footman looked questioningly at his fellows, who nodded.

  "Then it is another pair of shoes. Write your name on a sheet of paper,and I will send it in to the Home Secretary."

  "Write? It is all very easy to say write, but I was no dabster at thepen before these villains tried to poison me; and it is far worse now.Just look how they doubled me up with arsenic."

  He showed his twisted legs, deviated spine, and hand curled up like aclaw.

  "What! did they serve you out thus, poor old chap?"

  "They did. And that is what I have come to show the Citizen Minister,along with other matters. As I hear they are getting up the indictmentagainst old Capet, what I have to tell must not be lost for the nation."

  Five minutes afterward, the locksmith was shown into the official'spresence.

  The master locksmith had never, at the height of his fortune and in thebest of health, worn a captivating appearance; but the malady to whichhe was a prey, articular rheumatism in plain, while twisting his limbsand disfiguring his features, had not added to his embellishments. Theoutcome was that never had an honest man faced a more ruffianly lookingrogue than Roland when left alone with Gamain.

  The minister's first feeling was of repugnance; but seeing how hetrembled from head to foot, pity for a fellow-man, always supposingthat a wretch like Gamain is a fellow to a Roland, led him to use ashis first words:

  "Take a seat, citizen; you seem in pain."

  "I should rather think I am in pain," replied Gamain, dropping on achair; "and I have been so ever since the Austrian poisoned me."

  At these words a profound expression of disgust passed over thehearer's countenance, while he exchanged a glance with his wife, halfhidden in the window recess.

  "And you came to denounce this poisoning?"

  "That and other things."

  "Do you bring proof of your accusations?"

  "For that matter, you have only to come with me to the Tuileries and Iwill give you piles of it. I will show you the secret hole in the wallwhere the brigand hid his hoard. I ought to have guessed that the winewas poisoned that the Austrian sneaked out to offer me, a-saying, withher wheedling voice: 'Here you are, Gamain! drink this glass of wine;it will do you good now the work is done.'"

  "Poisoned?"

  "Yes; everybody knows," continued Gamain, with sullen hate, "that thosewho help kings to conceal treasures never make old bones."

  "There is something at the bottom of this," said Mme. Roland, comingforward at his glance; "this was the smith who was the king's tutor.Ask him about the hole in the wall."

  "The press?" said Gamain, who had overheard. "Why, I am here to laythat open. It is an iron safe, with a lock-bolt working both ways, inwhich Citizen Capet hid his private papers and savings."

  "How did you come to know about it?"

  "Did he not send for me to show him how to finish the lock, one he madehimself, and of course would not work smoothly?"

  "But this press would be smashed and rifled in the capture of theTuileries."

  "There is no danger of that. I defy anybody in the world to get theidea of it, barring him and me."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Sure and certain. It is just the same as when he left the Tuileries."

  "What do you say to all this, Madeleine?" asked Roland of his wife,when they had listened to Gamain's story, told in his prolix style.

  "I say the revelation is of the utmost importance, and no time must belost in verifying it."

  The secretary rang for his carriage, whereupon Gamain stood up sulkily.

  "I see you have had enough of me," he grumbled.

  "Why, no; I only ring for my carriage."

  "What! do ministers have carriages under the Republic?"

  "They have to do so, to save time, my friend. I call the carriage sothat we shall be quickly at the Tuileries. But what about the key tothe safe?--it is not likely Louis XVI. left it in the key-hole."

  "Why, certainly not, for our fat Capet is not such a fool as he looks.Here is a duplicate," he continued, drawing a new key from his pocket;"I made it from memory. I tell you I am the master of my craft. Istudied the lock, fancying some day--"

  "This is an awful scoundrel," said Roland to his wife.

  "Yes; but we have no right to reject any information coming to us inthe present state of affairs in order to arrive at a knowledge of thetruth. Am I to go with you?" asked the lady.

  "Certainly, as there are papers in the case. Are you not the mosthonest _man_ I know?"

  Gamain followed them to the door, mumbling:

  "I always said that I would pay old Capet out for what he did to me.What Louis XVI. did was kindness."