After Dark

  CHAPTER III.

  The head jailer of St. Lazare stood in the outer hall of the prison, twodays after the arrest at Trudaine's lodgings, smoking his morning pipe.Looking toward the courtyard gate, he saw the wicket opened, and aprivileged man let in, whom he soon recognized as the chief agent ofthe second section of Secret Police. "Why, friend Lomaque," cried thejailer, advancing toward the courtyard, "what brings you here thismorning, business or pleasure?"

  "Pleasure, this time, citizen. I have an idle hour or two to spare for awalk. I find myself passing the prison, and I can't resist calling into see how my friend the head jailer is getting on." Lomaque spoke ina surprisingly brisk and airy manner. His eyes were suffering under aviolent fit of weakness and winking; but he smiled, notwithstanding,with an air of the most inveterate cheerfulness. Those old enemies ofhis, who always distrusted him most when his eyes were most affected,would have certainly disbelieved every word of the friendly speech hehad just made, and would have assumed it as a matter of fact that hisvisit to the head jailer had some specially underhand business at thebottom of it.

  "How am I getting on?" said the jailer, shaking his head. "Overworked,friend--overworked. No idle hours in our department. Even the guillotineis getting too slow for us!"

  "Sent off your batch of prisoners for trial this morning?" askedLomaque, with an appearance of perfect unconcern.

  "No; they're just going," answered the other. "Come and have a look atthem." He spoke as if the prisoners were a collection of pictures onview, or a set of dresses just made up. Lomaque nodded his head, stillwith his air of happy, holiday carelessness. The jailer led the wayto an inner hall; and, pointing lazily with his pipe-stem, said: "Ourmorning batch, citizen, just ready for the baking."

  In one corner of the hall were huddled together more than thirty men andwomen of all ranks and ages; some staring round them with looks of blankdespair; some laughing and gossiping recklessly. Near them loungeda guard of "Patriots," smoking, spitting, and swearing. Between thepatriots and the prisoners sat, on a rickety stool, the second jailer--ahumpbacked man, with an immense red mustache--finishing his breakfast ofbroad beans, which he scooped out of a basin with his knife, and washeddown with copious draughts of wine from a bottle. Carelessly as Lomaquelooked at the shocking scene before him, his quick eyes contrived totake note of every prisoner's face, and to descry in a few minutesTrudaine and his sister standing together at the back of the group.

  "Now then, Apollo!" cried the head jailer, addressing his subordinateby a facetious prison nickname, "don't be all day starting thattrumpery batch of yours. And harkye, friend, I have leave of absence, onbusiness, at my Section this afternoon. So it will be your duty to readthe list for the guillotine, and chalk the prisoners' doors before thecart comes to-morrow morning. 'Ware the bottle, Apollo, to-day; 'warethe bottle, for fear of accidents with the death-list to-morrow."

  "Thirsty July weather, this--eh, citizen?" said Lomaque, leaving thehead jailer, and patting the hunchback in the friendliest manner on theshoulder. "Why, how you have got your batch huddled up together thismorning! Shall I help you to shove them into marching order? My time isquite at your disposal. This is a holiday morning with me!"

  "Ha, ha, ha! what a jolly dog he is on his holiday morning!" exclaimedthe head jailer, as Lomaque--apparently taking leave of his naturalcharacter altogether in the exhilaration of an hour's unexpectedleisure--began pushing and pulling the prisoners into rank, withhumorous mock apologies, at which not the officials only, but many ofthe victims themselves--reckless victims of a reckless tyranny--laughedheartily. Persevering to the last in his practical jest, Lomaquecontrived to get close to Trudaine for a minute, and to give him onesignificant look before he seized him by the shoulders, like the rest."Now, then, rear-guard," cried Lomaque, pushing Trudaine on, "close theline of march, and mind you keep step with your young woman there. Pluckup your spirits, citoyenne! one gets used to everything in this world,even to the guillotine!"

  While he was speaking and pushing at the same time, Trudaine felt apiece of paper slip quickly between his neck and his cravat. "Courage!"he whispered, pressing his sister's hand, as he saw her shuddering underthe assumed brutality of Lomaque's joke.

  Surrounded by the guard of "Patriots," the procession of prisonersmoved slowly into the outer courtyard, on its way to the revolutionarytribunal, the humpbacked jailer bringing up the rear. Lomaque wasabout to follow at some little distance, but the head jailer hospitablyexpostulated. "What a hurry you're in!" said he. "Now that incorrigibledrinker, my second in command, has gone off with his batch, I don't mindasking you to step in and have a drop of wine."

  "Thank you," answered Lomaque; "but I have rather a fancy for hearingthe trial this morning. Suppose I come back afterward? What time do yougo to your Section? At two o'clock, eh? Good! I shall try if I can'tget here soon after one." With these words he nodded and went out. Thebrilliant sunlight in the courtyard made him wink faster than ever. Hadany of his old enemies been with him, they would have whispered withinthemselves, "If you mean to come back at all, Citizen Lomaque, it willnot be soon after one!"

  On his way through the streets, the chief agent met one or two policeoffice friends, who delayed his progress; so that when he arrived at therevolutionary tribunal the trials of the day were just about to begin.

  The principal article of furniture in the Hall of Justice was a long,clumsy, deal table, covered with green baize. At the head of thistable sat the president and his court, with their hats on, backed bya heterogeneous collection of patriots officially connected in variousways with the proceedings that were to take place. Below the front ofthe table, a railed-off space, with a gallery beyond, was appropriatedto the general public--mostly represented, as to the gallery, onthis occasion, by women, all sitting together on forms, knitting,shirt-mending, and baby-linen-making, as coolly as if they were at home.Parallel with the side of the table furthest from the great doorof entrance was a low platform railed off, on which the prisoners,surrounded by their guard, were now assembled to await their trial. Thesun shone in brightly from a high window, and a hum of ceaseless talkingpervaded the hall cheerfully as Lomaque entered it. He was a privilegedman here, as at the prison; and he made his way in by a private door, soas to pass to the prisoners' platform, and to walk round it, before hegot to a place behind the president's chair. Trudaine, standing withhis sister on the outermost limits of the group, nodded significantly asLomaque looked up at him for an instant. He had contrived, on his way tothe tribunal, to get an opportunity of reading the paper which the chiefagent had slipped into his cravat. It contained these lines:

  "I have just discovered who the citizen and citoyenne Dubois are. Thereis no chance for you but to confess everything. By that means you mayinculpate a certain citizen holding authority, and may make it hisinterest, if he loves his own life, to save yours and your sister's."

  Arrived at the back of the president's chair, Lomaque recognized his twotrusty subordinates, Magloire and Picard, waiting among the assembledpatriot officials, to give their evidence. Beyond them, leaning againstthe wall, addressed by no one, and speaking to no one, stood thesuperintendent, Danville. Doubt and suspense were written in every lineof his face; the fretfulness of an uneasy mind expressed itself in hisslightest gesture--even in his manner of passing a handkerchief fromtime to time over his face, on which the perspiration was gatheringthick and fast already.

  "Silence!" cried the usher of the court for the time being--ahoarse-voiced man in top-boots with a huge saber buckled to his side,and a bludgeon in his hand. "Silence for the Citizen President!" hereiterated, striking his bludgeon on the table.

  The president rose and proclaimed that the sitting for the day hadbegun; then sat down again.

  The momentary silence which followed was interrupted by a suddenconfusion among the prisoners on the platform. Two of the guards sprangin among them. There was the thump of a heavy fall--a scream of terrorfrom some of the female prisoners--then another dead silence, broken
byone of the guards, who walked across the hall with a bloody knife in hishand, and laid it on the table. "Citizen President," he said, "I have toreport that one of the prisoners has just stabbed himself." There wasa murmuring exclamation, "Is that all?" among the women spectators, asthey resumed their work. Suicide at the bar of justice was no uncommonoccurrence, under the Reign of Terror.

  "Name?" asked the president, quietly taking up his pen and opening abook.

  "Martigne," answered the humpbacked jailer, coming forward to the table.

  "Description?"

  "Ex-royalist coach-maker to the tyrant Capet."

  "Accusation?"

  "Conspiracy in prison."

  The president nodded, and entered in the book: "Martigne, coachmaker.Accused of conspiring in prison. Anticipated course of law by suicide.Action accepted as sufficient confession of guilt. Goods confiscated.1st Thermidor, year two of the Republic."

  "Silence!" cried the man with the bludgeon, as the president dropped alittle sand on the entry, and signing to the jailer that he might removethe dead body, closed the book.

  "Any special cases this morning?" resumed the president, looking roundat the group behind him.

  "There is one," said Lomaque, making his way to the back of the officialchair. "Will it be convenient to you, citizen, to take the case of LouisTrudaine and Rose Danville first? Two of my men are detained here aswitnesses, and their time is valuable to the Republic."

  The president marked a list of names before him, and handed it to thecrier or usher, placing the figures one and two against Louis Trudaineand Rose Danville.

  While Lomaque was backing again to his former place behind the chair,Danville approached and whispered to him, "There is a rumor that secretinformation has reached you about the citizen and citoyenne Dubois. Isit true? Do you know who they are?"

  "Yes," answered Lomaque; "but I have superior orders to keep theinformation to myself just at present."

  The eagerness with which Danville put his question, and thedisappointment he showed on getting no satisfactory answer to it, wereof a nature to satisfy the observant chief agent that his superintendentwas really as ignorant as he appeared to be on the subject of the manand woman Dubois. That one mystery, at any rate was still, for Danville,a mystery unrevealed.

  "Louis Trudaine! Rose Danville!" shouted the crier, with another rap ofhis bludgeon.

  The two came forward, at the appeal, to the front railing of theplatform. The first sight of her judges, the first shock on confrontingthe pitiless curiosity of the audience, seemed to overwhelm Rose. Sheturned from deadly pale to crimson, then to pale again, and hid her faceon her brother's shoulder. How fast she heard his heart throbbing! Howthe tears filled her eyes as she felt that his fear was all for her!

  "Now," said the president, writing down their names. "Denounced bywhom?"

  Magloire and Picard stepped forward to the table. The firstanswered--"By Citizen Superintendent Danville."

  The reply made a great stir and sensation among both prisoners andaudience.

  "Accused of what?" pursued the president.

  "The male prisoner, of conspiracy against the Republic; the femaleprisoner, of criminal knowledge of the same."

  "Produce your proofs in answer to this order."

  Picard and Magloire opened their minutes of evidence, and read to thepresident the same particulars which they had formerly read to Lomaquein the secret police office.

  "Good," said the president, when they had done, "we need troubleourselves with nothing more than the identifying of the citizen andcitoyenne Dubois, which, of course, you are prepared for. Have you heardthe evidence?" he continued, turning to the prisoners; while Picard andMagloire consulted together in whispers, looking perplexedly toward thechief agent, who stood silent behind them. "Have you heard the evidence,prisoners? Do you wish to say anything? If you do, remember that thetime of this tribunal is precious, and that you will not be suffered towaste it."

  "I demand permission to speak for myself and for my sister," answeredTrudaine. "My object is to save the time of the tribunal by making aconfession."

  The faint whispering, audible among the women spectators a momentbefore, ceased instantaneously as he pronounced the word confession. Inthe breathless silence, his low, quiet tones penetrated to the remotestcorners of the hall; while, suppressing externally all evidences of thedeath-agony of hope within him, he continued his address in these words:

  "I confess my secret visits to the house in the Rue de Clery. I confessthat the persons whom I went to see are the persons pointed at in theevidence. And, lastly, I confess that my object in communicating withthem as I did was to supply them with the means of leaving France. IfI had acted from political motives to the political prejudice of theexisting government, I admit that I should be guilty of that conspiracyagainst the Republic with which I am charged. But no political purposeanimated, no political necessity urged me, in performing the actionwhich has brought me to the bar of this tribunal. The persons whom Iaided in leaving France were without political influence or politicalconnections. I acted solely from private motives of humanity toward themand toward others--motives which a good republican may feel, and yet notturn traitor to the welfare of his country."

  "Are you ready to inform the court, next, who the man and woman Duboisreally are?" inquired the president, impatiently.

  "I am ready," answered Trudaine. "But first I desire to say one word inreference to my sister, charged here at the bar with me." His voice grewless steady, and, for the first time, his color began to change, asRose lifted her face from his shoulder and looked up at him eagerly."I implore the tribunal to consider my sister as innocent of all activeparticipation in what is charged against me as a crime--" He wenton. "Having spoken with candor about myself, I have some claim to bebelieved when I speak of her; when I assert that she neither did help menor could help me. If there be blame, it is mine only; if punishment, itis I alone who should suffer."

  He stopped suddenly, and grew confused. It was easy to guard himselffrom the peril of looking at Rose, but he could not escape the hardtrial to his self-possession of hearing her, if she spoke. Just ashe pronounced the last sentence, she raised her face again from hisshoulder, and eagerly whispered to him:

  "No, no, Louis! Not that sacrifice, after all the others--not that,though you should force me into speaking to them myself!"

  She abruptly quitted her hold of him, and fronted the whole court inan instant. The railing in front of her shook with the quivering ofher arms and hands as she held by it to support herself! Her hair laytangled on her shoulders; her face had assumed a strange fixedness; hergentle blue eyes, so soft and tender at all other times, were lit upwildly. A low hum of murmured curiosity and admiration broke from thewomen of the audience. Some rose eagerly from the benches; others cried:

  "Listen, listen! she is going to speak!"

  She did speak. Silvery and pure the sweet voice, sweeter than ever insadness, stole its way through the gross sounds--through the coarsehumming and the hissing whispers.

  "My lord the president," began the poor girl firmly. Her next words weredrowned in a volley of hisses from the women.

  "Ah! aristocrat, aristocrat! None of your accursed titles here!" wastheir shrill cry at her. She fronted that cry, she fronted the fiercegestures which accompanied it, with the steady light still in her eyes,with the strange rigidity still fastened on her face. She would havespoken again through the uproar and execration, but her brother's voiceoverpowered her.

  "Citizen president," he cried, "I have not concluded. I demand leave tocomplete my confession. I implore the tribunal to attach no importanceto what my sister says. The trouble and terror of this day have shakenher intellects. She is not responsible for her words--I assert itsolemnly, in the face of the whole court!"

  The blood flew up into his white face as he made the asseveration. Evenat that supreme moment the great heart of the man reproached him foryielding himself to a deception, though the motive of it wa
s to save hissister's life.

  "Let her speak! let her speak!" exclaimed the women, as Rose, withoutmoving, without looking at her brother, without seeming even to haveheard what he said, made a second attempt to address her judges, inspite of Trudaine's interposition.

  "Silence!" shouted the man with the bludgeon. "Silence, you women! thecitizen president is going to speak."

  "The prisoner Trudaine has the ear of the court," said the president,"and may continue his confession. If the female prisoner wishes tospeak, she may be heard afterward. I enjoin both the accused personsto make short work of it with their addresses to me, or they willmake their case worse instead of better. I command silence among theaudience, and if I am not obeyed, I will clear the hall. Now, prisonerTrudaine, I invite you to proceed. No more about your sister; let herspeak for herself. Your business and ours is with the man and womanDubois. Are you, or are you not, ready to tell the court who they are?"

  "I repeat that I am ready," answered Trudaine. "The citizen Dubois isa servant. The woman Dubois is the mother of the man who denouncesme--Superintendent Danville."

  A low, murmuring, rushing sound of hundreds of exclaiming voices, allspeaking, half-suppressedly, at the same moment, followed the deliveryof the answer. No officer of the court attempted to control the outburstof astonishment. The infection of it spread to the persons on theplatform, to the crier himself, to the judges of the tribunal, lounging,but the moment before, so carelessly silent in their chairs. When thenoise was at length quelled, it was subdued in the most instantaneousmanner by one man, who shouted from the throng behind the president'schair:

  "Clear the way there! Superintendent Danville is taken ill!"

  A vehement whispering and contending of many voices interrupting eachother, followed; then a swaying among the assembly of official people;then a great stillness; then the sudden appearance of Danville, alone,at the table.

  The look of him, as he turned his ghastly face toward the audience,silenced and steadied them in an instant, just as they were on the pointof falling into fresh confusion. Every one stretched forward eagerly tohear what he would say. His lips moved; but the few words that fell fromthem were inaudible, except to the persons who happened to be close byhim. Having spoken, he left the table supported by a police agent,who was seen to lead him toward the private door of the court, and,consequently, also toward the prisoners' platform. He stopped, however,halfway, quickly turned his face from the prisoners, and pointing towardthe public door at the opposite side of the hall, caused himself to beled out into the air by that direction. When he had gone the president,addressing himself partly to Trudaine and partly to the audience, said:

  "The Citizen Superintendent Danville has been overcome by the heatin the court. He has retired by my desire, under the care of a policeagent, to recover in the open air; pledging himself to me to come backand throw a new light on the extraordinary and suspicious statementwhich the prisoner has just made. Until the return of Citizen Danville,I order the accused, Trudaine, to suspend any further acknowledgmentof complicity which he may have to address to me. This matter must becleared up before other matters are entered on. Meanwhile, in orderthat the time of the tribunal may not be wasted, I authorize the femaleprisoner to take this opportunity of making any statement concerningherself which she may wish to address to the judges."

  "Silence him!" "Remove him out of court!" "Gag him!" "Guillotine him!"These cries rose from the audience the moment the president had donespeaking. They were all directed at Trudaine, who had made a lastdesperate effort to persuade his sister to keep silence, and had beendetected in the attempt by the spectators.

  "If the prisoner speaks another word to his sister, remove him," saidthe president, addressing the guard round the platform.

  "Good! we shall hear her at last. Silence! silence!" exclaimed thewomen, settling themselves comfortably on their benches, and preparingto resume their work.

  "Rose Danville, the court is waiting to hear you," said the president,crossing his legs and leaning back luxuriously in his large armchair.

  Amid all the noise and confusion of the last few minutes, Rose had stoodever in the same attitude, with that strangely fixed expression neveraltering on her face but once. When her husband made his way to theside of the table and stood there prominently alone, her lips trembled alittle, and a faint shade of color passed swiftly over her cheeks. Eventhat slight change had vanished now--she was paler, stiller, more widelyaltered from her former self than ever, as she faced the president andsaid these words:

  "I wish to follow my brother's example and make my confession, as he hasmade his. I would rather he had spoken for me; but he is too generousto say any words except such as he thinks may save me from sharing hispunishment. I refuse to be saved, unless he is saved with me. Wherehe goes when he leaves this place, I will go; what he suffers, I willsuffer; if he is to die, I believe God will grant me the strength to dieresignedly with him!"

  She paused for a moment, and half turned toward Trudaine--then checkedherself instantly and went on: "This is what I now wish to say, as to myshare in the offense charged against my brother. Some time ago, he toldme one day that he had seen my husband's mother in Paris, disguised asa poor woman; that he had spoken to her, and forced her to acknowledgeherself. Up to this time we had all felt certain that she had leftFrance, because she held old-fashioned opinions which it is dangerousfor people to hold now--had left France before we came to Paris. Shetold my brother that she had indeed gone (with an old, tried servantof the family to help and protect her) as far as Marseilles; and that,finding unforeseen difficulty there in getting further, she had taken itas a warning from Providence not to desert her son, of whom she was verypassionately fond, and from whom she had been most unwilling to depart.Instead of waiting in exile for quieter times, she determined to go andhide herself in Paris, knowing her son was going there too. She assumedthe name of her old and faithful servant, who declined to the last toleave her unprotected; and she proposed to live in the strictest secrecyand retirement, watching, unknown, the career of her son, and ready ata moment's notice to disclose herself to him, when the settlement ofpublic affairs might reunite her safely to her beloved child. My brotherthought this plan full of danger, both for herself, for her son, and forthe honest old man who was risking his head for his mistress's sake. Ithought so too; and in an evil hour I said to Louis: 'Will you tryin secret to get my husband's mother away, and see that her faithfulservant makes her really leave France this time?' I wrongly asked mybrother to do this for a selfish reason of my own--a reason connectedwith my married life, which has not been a happy one. I had notsucceeded in gaining my husband's affection, and was not treated kindlyby him. My brother--who has always loved me far more dearly, I amafraid, than I have ever deserved--my brother increased his kindnessto me, seeing me treated unkindly by my husband. This made ill-bloodbetween them. My thought, when I asked my brother to do for me whatI have said, was, that if we two in secret saved my husband's mother,without danger to him, from imperiling herself and her son, we should,when the time came for speaking of what we had done, appear to myhusband in a new and better light. I should have shown how well Ideserved his love, and Louis would have shown how well he deserved hisbrother-in-law's gratitude; and so we should have made home happy atlast, and all three have lived together affectionately. This was mythought; and when I told it to my brother, and asked him if there wouldbe much risk, out of his kindness and indulgence toward me, he said'No.' He had so used me to accept sacrifices for my happiness that I lethim endanger himself to help me in my little household plan. I repentthis bitterly now; I ask his pardon with my whole heart. If he isacquitted, I will try to show myself worthier of his love. If he isfound guilty, I, too, will go to the scaffold, and die with my brother,who risked his life for my sake."

  She ceased as quietly as she had begun, and turned once more to herbrother.

  As she looked away from the court and looked at him, a few tears cameinto her eyes, and something of the
old softness of form and gentlenessof expression seemed to return to her face. He let her take his hand,but he seemed purposely to avoid meeting the anxious gaze she fixedon him. His head sunk on his breast; he drew his breath heavily, hiscountenance darkened and grew distorted, as if he were suffering somesharp pang of physical pain. He bent down a little, and, leaning hiselbow on the rail before him, covered his face with his hand; and soquelled the rising agony, so forced back the scalding tears to hisheart. The audience had heard Rose in silence, and they preservedthe same tranquillity when she had done. This was a rare tribute to aprisoner from the people of the Reign of Terror.

  The president looked round at his colleagues, and shook his headsuspiciously.

  "This statement of the female prisoner's complicates the matter veryseriously," said he. "Is there anybody in court," he added, lookingat the persons behind his chair, "who knows where the mother ofSuperintendent Danville and the servant are now?"

  Lomaque came forward at the appeal, and placed himself by the table.

  "Why, citizen agent!" continued the president, looking hard at him, "areyou overcome by the heat, too?"

  "The fit seemed to take him, citizen president, when the female prisonerhad made an end of her statement," exclaimed Magloire, pressing forwardofficiously.

  Lomaque gave his subordinate a look which sent the man back directly tothe shelter of the official group; then said, in lower tones than werecustomary with him:

  "I have received information relative to the mother of SuperintendentDanville and the servant, and am ready to answer any questions that maybe put to me."

  "Where are they now?" asked the president.

  "She and the servant are known to have crossed the frontier, and aresupposed to be on their way to Cologne. But, since they have enteredGermany, their whereabouts is necessarily a matter of uncertainty to therepublican authorities."

  "Have you any information relative to the conduct of the old servantwhile he was in Paris?"

  "I have information enough to prove that he was not an object forpolitical suspicion. He seems to have been simply animated by servilezeal for the woman's interests; to have performed for her all the menialoffices of a servant in private; and to have misled the neighbors byaffected equality with her in public."

  "Have you any reason to believe that Superintendent Danville was privyto his mother's first attempt at escaping from France?"

  "I infer it from what the female prisoner has said, and for otherreasons which it would be irregular to detail before the tribunal. Theproofs can no doubt be obtained if I am allowed time to communicate withthe authorities at Lyons and Marseilles."

  At this moment Danville re-entered the court; and, advancing to thetable, placed himself close by the chief agent's side. They looked eachother steadily in the face for an instant.

  "He has recovered from the shock of Trudaine's answer," thought Lomaque,retiring. "His hand trembles, his face is pale, but I can see regainedself-possession in his eye, and I dread the consequences already."

  "Citizen president," began Danville, "I demand to know if anything hastranspired affecting my honor and patriotism in my absence?"

  He spoke apparently with the most perfect calmness, but he looked nobodyin the face. His eyes were fixed steadily on the green baize of thetable beneath him.

  "The female prisoner has made a statement, referring principally toherself and her brother," answered the president, "but incidentallymentioning a previous attempt on your mother's part to break existinglaws by emigrating from France. This portion of the confession containsin it some elements of suspicion which seriously affect you--"

  "They shall be suspicions no longer--at my own peril I will change themto certainties!" exclaimed Danville, extending his arm theatrically, andlooking up for the first time. "Citizen president, I avow it with thefearless frankness of a good patriot; I was privy to my mother's firstattempt at escaping from France."

  Hisses and cries of execration followed this confession. He winced underthem at first; but recovered his self-possession before silence wasrestored.

  "Citizens, you have heard the confession of my fault," he resumed,turning with desperate assurance toward the audience; "now hear theatonement I have made for it at the altar of my country."

  He waited at the end of that sentence, until the secretary to thetribunal had done writing it down in the report book of the court.

  "Transcribe faithfully to the letter!" cried Danville, pointing solemnlyto the open page of the volume. "Life and death hang on my words."

  The secretary took a fresh dip of ink, and nodded to show that he wasready. Danville went on:

  "In these times of glory and trial for France," he proceeded, pitchinghis voice to a tone of deep emotion, "what are all good citizens mostsacredly bound to do? To immolate their dearest private affections andinterests before their public duties! On the first attempt of my motherto violate the laws against emigration, by escaping from France, Ifailed in making the heroic sacrifice which inexorable patriotismdemanded of me. My situation was more terrible than the situationof Brutus sitting in judgment on his own sons. I had not the Romanfortitude to rise equal to it. I erred, citizens--erred as Coriolanusdid, when his august mother pleaded with him for the safety of Rome! Forthat error I deserved to be purged out of the republican community;but I escaped my merited punishment--nay, I even rose to the honor ofholding an office under the Government. Time passed; and again my motherattempted an escape from France. Again, inevitable fate brought my civicvirtue to the test. How did I meet this second supremest trial? By anatonement for past weakness, terrible as the trial itself. Citizens, youwill shudder; but you will applaud while you tremble. Citizens, look!and while you look, remember well the evidence given at the opening ofthis case. Yonder stands the enemy of his country, who intrigued to helpmy mother to escape; here stands the patriot son, whose voice was thefirst, the only voice, to denounce him for the crime!" As he spoke, hepointed to Trudaine, then struck himself on the breast, then folded hisarms, and looked sternly at the benches occupied by the spectators.

  "Do you assert," exclaimed the president, "that at the time when youdenounced Trudaine, you knew him to be intriguing to aid your mother'sescape?"

  "I assert it," answered Danville.

  The pen which the president held dropped from his hand at that reply;his colleagues started, and looked at each other in blank silence.

  A murmur of "Monster! monster!" began with the prisoners on theplatform, and spread instantly to the audience, who echoed and echoed itagain; the fiercest woman-republican on the benches joined cause atlast with the haughtiest woman-aristocrat on the platform. Even in thatsphere of direst discords, in that age of sharpest enmities, theone touch of Nature preserved its old eternal virtue, and roused themother-instinct which makes the whole world kin.

  Of the few persons in the court who at once foresaw the effect ofDanville's answer on the proceedings of the tribunal, Lomaque was one.His sallow face whitened as he looked toward the prisoners' platform.

  "They are lost," he murmured to himself, moving out of the groupin which he had hitherto stood. "Lost! The lie which has saved thatvillain's head leaves them without the shadow of a hope. No need to stopfor the sentence--Danville's infamous presence of mind has given them upto the guillotine!" Pronouncing these words, he went out hurriedly by adoor near the platform, which led to the prisoners' waiting-room.

  Rose's head sank again on her brother's shoulder. She shuddered, andleaned back faintly on the arm which he extended to support her. One ofthe female prisoners tried to help Trudaine in speaking consolinglyto her; but the consummation of her husband's perfidy seemed to haveparalyzed her at heart. She murmured once in her brother's ear, "Louis!I am resigned to die--nothing but death is left for me after thedegradation of having loved that man." She said those words and closedher eyes wearily, and spoke no more.

  "One other question, and you may retire," resumed the president,addressing Danville. "Were you cognizant of your wife'
s connection withher brother's conspiracy?"

  Danville reflected for a moment, remembered that there were witnesses incourt who could speak to his language and behavior on the evening of hiswife's arrest, and resolved this time to tell the truth.

  "I was not aware of it," he answered. "Testimony in my favor can becalled which will prove that when my wife's complicity was discovered Iwas absent from Paris."

  Heartlessly self-possessed as he was, the public reception of his lastreply had shaken his nerve. He now spoke in low tones, turning his backon the spectators, and fixing his eyes again on the green baize of thetable at which he stood.

  "Prisoners, have you any objection to make, any evidence to call,invalidating the statement by which Citizen Danville has cleared himselfof suspicion?" inquired the president.

  "He has cleared himself by the most execrable of all falsehoods,"answered Trudaine. "If his mother could be traced and brought here, hertestimony would prove it."

  "Can you produce any other evidence in support of your allegation?"asked the president.

  "I cannot."

  "Citizen Superintendent Danville, you are at liberty to retire. Yourstatement will be laid before the authority to whom you are officiallyresponsible. Either you merit a civic crown for more than Roman virtue,or--" Having got thus far, the president stopped abruptly, as ifunwilling to commit himself too soon to an opinion, and merely repeated,"You may retire."

  Danville left the court immediately, going out again by the public door.He was followed by murmurs from the women's benches, which soon ceased,however, when the president was observed to close his note-book, andturn round toward his colleagues. "The sentence!" was the generalwhisper now. "Hush, hush--the sentence!"

  After a consultation of a few minutes with the persons behind him, thepresident rose, and spoke the momentous words:

  "Louis Trudaine and Rose Danville, the revolutionary tribunal, havingheard the charge against you, and having weighed the value of whatyou have said in answer to it, decides that you are both guilty, andcondemns you to the penalty of death."

  Having delivered the sentence in those terms, he sat down again, andplaced a mark against the two first condemned names on the list ofprisoners. Immediately afterward the next case was called on, and thecuriosity of the audience was stimulated by a new trial.