CHAPTER XLVI
THE PATRIOTS
At midnight the full moon, silver-gilt, touched the house-fronts of theStreet of the Hanged Man. They lit the figure and slouched hat of Jude,who, carrying a package, slunk up to the door of the Gougeon shop andwas admitted. The Big Bench were in session. The light of the tallow-dipseemed to concentrate itself on the wicked smile of the Admiral as hewatched Jude opening the packages.
"Do you know who sent this, gentlemen?" the spy cried, enjoying theimportance of being the bearer of some surprise.
"We are not gentlemen, and we do not know," retorted Hache.
"It was a high personage, rowers--no less a personage than a prince--aroyal prince."
"What have _we_ to do with princes?"
"With the Duke of Orleans, much; rival to the throne, he is the friendof the people."
"Ah, yes, the friend of the people, and he wants us for something. Thatis a good contract," the Admiral interrupted. "Whose windpipe does hewant to cut, and what does he promise to pay for it?"
"Nothing so risky; only some shouting, and as for the pay, here,Admiral, is the nose of the dog," and he handed him a full bag of coin.
The Admiral tore it open, and exhibited the metal to his greedy-eyedsubordinates. Hache grabbed at a couple of the coins, and joyfullyflipped them up to the ceiling.
"Now what does our friend the Duke of Orleans want? Our _friend_ theDuke of Orleans, _gentlemen_," the Admiral added, smiling ironically.
"To wear these badges and shout for him," replied Jude, displaying thecontents of his parcel, a couple of dozen red woollen tuques.
"No objection," the Admiral answered; "no objection in the world, butwhat is the object?"
"Well, Monsieur Admiral----"
"Shut up with your 'Monsieurs', spy," called Hache. "Do you want ushunted for aristocrats?"
"Well, Citizen Admiral then, you know how things have been going sincelast spring. In May there was the holding of States-General; in June theNational Assembly confront the nobles and swear never to disperse; inJuly the Court menaces to suppress the Parisians by the army; on theeleventh the people slaughtered by the Dragoons; on the fourteenth----"
"The Bastille taken--I was there."
Exultation lit the ring of faces.
"Ragmen, we have had good times since the 14th of July," said theAdmiral. "It is now becoming our turn. I always told you it was coming,but I am going to give you better still. You are going to learn to lovethe sight of red blood better than red wine."
"The aristocrats," Jude continued, "have been skipping over thefrontiers; the people starving and rising to their rights; we hungCouncillor Foulon to the lantern----"
"And put grass in his mouth, the old animal!" exclaimed Wife Gougeonwith vicious hate.
"The King----" proceeded Jude.
"The Big Hog," shouted a Councillor savagely.
"The Big Hog, then, has had his bristles singed with all this: thepeople despise him. Orleans is the people's favourite. What if theGalley-on-Land should put Orleans on the throne?"
"Good!" cried the Admiral.
The Big Bench broke into excited comment.
"Citizen Jude is admirable." Their leader went on, "Nothing could bemore acceptable than the money of a friend to the people. I tell you,ragmen, our time has come. There is nothing we cannot try."
"Let us garrott every gendarme."
"They keep well out of our way now, at least when single," anotherboasted.
"We don't loot enough houses," a third grumbled. "What is the good ofbelonging to the nation?"
"It is the sacred right of the citizen to oppress the oppressor," chimedJude.
"Ragmen, you don't know what I mean," vociferated the Admiral sharply."We are to be the great men--the Government. I have seen this ever sinceour sack of Reveillon's paper-factory. Everything belongs to theboldest. You will yet see our Big Bench legislators of Paris and me aMinister of France."
"Bravo; bravo the Admiral!"
The man who last entered, the Versailles beggar, now came to the centre.
"Listen, friends. You know that what I learn at Versailles is worthsomething to the Galley-on-Land."
"Invariably," said the Admiral.
"The Big Sow, you know, she they call Madame Veto, has been cursedlyworking to keep the Big Hog with the cursed hogs. The people are afraidof more Dragoons, and are crying, 'The King to Paris!' Well, now, thisis the third of October. Yesterday afternoon the Bodyguard, as they callthem--all fat hogs, mark you--gave a dinner in the theatre to theFlemish Dragoons. They were so glad to have Flemings to sabre Paris thatthe Big Sow came in, and they all spat on the people's cockade, and puton the White Hog colour, and also a black one, and vowed they werecocksure of shutting us up. They brought in the Big Hog from hishunting, and he is in the mess, too. At the end they all followed MadameVeto home, shouting everything to vex us patriots. _I_ am a _patriot_,"he added winking. "It is an outrage on the nation. We must go toVersailles. We must bring the Big Hog into our bosoms, away from the BadHogs. Do you see?"
"I am in it," cried Hache.
"An incomparable scheme," said the Admiral. "Brave Greencaps, don't yousee before you all the swag in the great chateau of Versailles? My God!it is a pretty scheme--a scheme worthy of a Galley-on-Land."
Even Gougeon seemed to be waked up, and fixed his greedy black eyes onMotte.
"Citizens," the Admiral continued, addressing Wife Gougeon. "This isbetter begun by the women. This morning you will go the Fish-market andstir the fishwomen up. You must learn the lingo of patriotess. Screamhard that 'The nation is in danger!' 'Down with the enemies of therepublic!' Talk of 'the excellent citizen,' 'the true patriots,' 'thegood _sans-culottes_.' Be 'filled with sacred vigour' against 'the vilearistocrats.' We 'work for liberty,' we 'bear the nation in our hearts,'and 'fulfil a civic duty.' 'Against traitors, perpetual distrust is theweapon of good citizens,' and 'away with the prejudices of feudalism!'You can pick up carts-full of the lingo at the Palais Royal."
"I don't understand that bosh," blurted Hache.
"You learn it in two instants, Hache."
"Wait till I tell you another thing, Admiral," Motte interposed. "Thereare now twenty thousand ragmen from the provinces encamped on the hillsof Montmartre, fit for everything good. I have been through them, andwhen a St. Marcellese holds his nose, you may fancy. Man never saw sucha choice crowd of breechesless. Get _them_ started and go to the womento-morrow."
"To-morrow, then, let it be. The cries are to be 'Bread' and 'The Kingto Paris,' the fishwomen to lead; the Big Bench sign to be the red woolof '_our Friend Orleans_'; then sack the bakers; then the Hotel deVille; then the chateau of Versailles; and death to every black or whitecockade."