In the Name of Liberty: A Story of the Terror

  VI

  BARABANT HESITATES

  The Place de la Revolution was choked with the multitude come towitness the end of the Girondins. The populace, indifferent to thesight of two or three executions a day, gathered with common impulseto witness these men, long lifted above their heads, go down to theirdeath in humiliation and disgrace. Many who hungered, cursed them inthe need of some object to their hatred; others who feared them, in thesavage joy of deliverance; but the mass hooted simply from the delightof seeing them fallen.

  Toward one o'clock the procession of five carts, announced by all thetumults of the human voice, cut through the frenzied hordes, who fromtime to time fell back into silence, astonished at the demeanor ofthese men; who to insults addressed the crowds with cries of "Vive laRepublique!" or joined in the chorus of the "Marseillaise."

  The rumor had circulated that the body of Valaze, who had committedsuicide the night before, was to be guillotined with the rest. In thelast cart, indeed, the people discovered the corpse stretched among theliving.

  Arrived at the scaffold, the twenty descended; the one remained. Ajailer, to win a laugh, propped up the corpse, crying:

  "Hurry up--Valaze's waiting for you."

  The crowd applauded with jeers and taunts. The Girondins meanwhileranged themselves at the foot of the scaffold. When their number wascomplete, with one movement they embraced.

  Several, turning toward the public, lifted up their arms and repeatedthe cry:

  "Vive la Republique!"

  Then, drawn up one against the other, giving front to the torrent oftheir enemies, forgetting even their individualities in the suprememoment, the condemned began the hymn of the Republic:

  "Allons, enfants de la Patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrive."

  Every two minutes one of the fraternity left the ranks and ascendedthe ladder; but the chorus continued, uninterrupted either by the wildacclaim that greeted the appearance of each victim on the scaffold, orby the thundering shout that told of the severed head.

  The chorus thinned to three, to two, to one. The last, without ceasingthe chant, mounted to the platform; only the knife interrupted the song.

  Then, as far as the eye could travel, over the immense square, over thepacked bridges and distant, darkened streets, like an immense flightof released birds there appeared above the crowd the red flutter ofagitated liberty-caps. The populace, who believed that from out thishecatomb would come relief from famine, bread and meat to save them,shouted frantically. They also shouted who feared to be silent. Theuproar continued for ten minutes before the mass disintegrated.

  As Goursac, with heavy heart yielding to the impulse of the crowd,sought his friends, from whom he had separated for the sake ofprudence, a touch on his arm checked his progress. To his surprise, heencountered the solemn face of Le Corbeau.

  "What do you wish?"

  "To talk with you," the lips answered, but the eyes said, "You areunder arrest."

  "I was expecting it," he replied calmly, "but not from this quarter."He sought his friends, but the movement of the crowd had divided them."After all, it is better so," he said to himself; "farewell wouldbe equivalent to a warrant." He turned to his captor: "Where are youtaking me?"

  Le Corbeau, without change of feature, ignored the question and keptthe silence. Resigning himself to the situation, Goursac allowedhimself to be conducted with the crowd; but all at once, as theyentered the Rue Antoine, he felt an impress on his other arm andanother voice saying:

  "This way."

  This time he perceived Sans-Chagrin, who, without other recognition,drew him off the thoroughfare. They penetrated abruptly into a nestof narrow streets, winding and twisting in a manner that left himcompletely in doubt as to their direction. But as their generalprogress seemed to be leading them toward the Cour des Miracles, thatcesspool of beggars, thieves, and cutthroats, he began to fear thatthis capture had some other design in view than his imprisonment.

  He quitted his attitude of indifference and summoned all his facultiesto find a reason for this strange course. Observing that at each cornerthey turned his captors were forcing him into a wider circle, theconviction grew in him that they took this subterfuge to see if theywere followed. At the next corner he himself turned--without success.But at the third attempt he distinguished, lurking behind, the threeincongruous figures of Cramoisin, Boudgoust, and Jambony!

  Then no longer doubting that he was being led to his death, he resolvedthat no weakness of his should add to the satisfaction of his enemies.

  But at this moment, as for the twentieth time they turned a corner, hewas seized under the arms and rushed at a run down an alley. Throughan entrance in the end he was propelled through courts, hallways, andpassages innumerable, and suddenly emerged into a distant street.

  Goursac, now utterly at a loss, made no resistance to this suddendoubling. Only when, after a few anxious blocks, he perceived that theywere no longer followed, he again sought to enter into conversationwith Sans-Chagrin, to be met by the same obstinate silence.

  Their attitude increased his perplexity, which was now augmented bytheir totally ignoring the direction of the prisons and striking outfor the barriers of the city. Not until the Barriere du Trone Renverseitself was in sight did his captors stop. Entering an inn, they gavea sign of recognition to the host, passed down a hallway, and pushedtheir prisoner into a large room, where he found himself in thepresence of Dossonville. At the sight of the agent de surete, Goursacdrew himself up haughtily.

  "So, Citoyen Dossonville, you turn with the wind," he said. "I did notsuspect your versatility."

  "Heavens, my dear Goursac, yes!" cried Dossonville. "But if I go withthe wind, I hope to be of some use to those who oppose it." He pointedto the table. "That package will interest you."

  "There is some mistake," Goursac said, as he scanned the document."This is a passport for the Citoyen Jacques Monestier."

  "Well, what of that--Citoyen Monestier?"

  Goursac looked at the passport, and from it to the laughing countenanceof Dossonville.

  "Then it was to save me," he said slowly, "that you had me arrested?"

  "Parbleu! You are waking up!"

  With one bound, Goursac caught Dossonville in his arms.

  "Pardon, pardon! What a fool I am!" he cried. "My noble, my generousfriend! Head of an ass that I have on my shoulders! You risk your lifefor mine! Thanks, thanks; a thousand times, thanks!"

  "Good!" Dossonville broke in. "We understand each other now. We havebut little time; listen to me." He stopped the other in the torrent ofhis protestations. "Only remember this, that if a weather-vane turnsto every breeze, it relinquishes its base not a jot, not even to thehurricane. I find therein a great moral." He dismissed the thought witha gesture. "Now for you. You must pass the gates immediately. WhenJavogues discovers your escape, he may give orders to watch all thegates. See here, my friend--you must listen to me."

  Goursac was paying not the slightest attention. Seated on a chair, hisface aglow, he regarded Dossonville with almost adoration, while fromtime to time his emotion exploded in words.

  "Dossonville, you are heroic! You are sublime! Oh, if I only couldacquaint the world with such an action! Magnificent! Heroic! Heroic, Itell you!"

  Dossonville, perceiving his joy, thought to himself, "Yes, heroismbefore death is all very well, but how the hope of life transforms aman!" Aloud he continued, "Take the passport and hurry."

  Then Goursac, retreating a step, said but one word:

  "No!"

  But in the word, with the flash of his eye, with the toss of his head,with the resolution of his lips, there was the eloquence of an oration.

  This time it was Dossonville who was overcome with astonishment.

  "You are mad!" he exclaimed, seizing him by the lapel. "If you return,it is to the guillotine."

  "So be it!"

  "Reflect."

  "I have. Had I wished to save myself,
I should have done so long ago."

  "Then you seek death?"

  "I will not fly from the scum," Goursac said proudly. "I am a Girondinand a Frenchman. When I can no longer live as a Girondin, I am ready todie as a Frenchman. Liberty? What do you offer me? Exile and a dailycringing from discovery, a miserable, hunted existence in the mud andrain? No!" He took a step forward and grasped his hand. "For what youhave risked for me accept my benediction; may it bring good luck."

  "At least, take the passport," said Dossonville, desperately, holdingit out to him, "so that if you change your mind--"

  "So that I may not change my mind--there."

  With a rapid motion Goursac tore the passport in two, embracedDossonville, and went out. Before the Pretre Pendu, Cramoisin,Boudgoust, and Jambony, more dead than alive, hung their heads interror while Javogues, like a wounded bull, strode backward and forwardbefore them, filling the air with his imprecations.

  "Come, you lie, one and all. You lie, Cramoisin; you lie, Boudgoust;you lie, Jambony. He has bought you with gold! You have soldyourselves!"

  "I swear they escaped us through some passage!" Boudgoust cried.

  "We searched an hour," Cramoisin put in.

  "Shut up!"

  Javogues seized him furiously by the shoulders, and approaching hisgleaming eyes as though to force the truth from his face, he shouted:

  "You lie! You lie! I see you lie!"

  Abandoning him, he seized Jambony, shaking him like a whip; but as heopened his mouth to roar forth fresh denunciations, he stopped shortand dropped the cub in amazement. At the same moment a murmur ranthroughout the crowd, which, parting, disclosed the approaching figureof Goursac.

  The Girondin perceived his enemies by the same motion of the crowd; butwithout faltering, he continued nodding to the acquaintances who nowshrank before him.

  He had passed the cabaret and was almost at the entrance of No. 38before Javogues could recover. Then, with a roar, he cried:

  "Stop!"

  Goursac wheeled, returned, and halted.

  "What do you wish of me?"

  Javogues, brought thus to the long-desired moment, folded his arms andsaid brutally:

  "You do not rejoice, citoyen, at the death of traitors."

  "I always rejoice at the death of traitors."

  "You rejoice to-day, then?"

  "I grieve."

  He pronounced the words sadly.

  "You are against the Revolution. Say it."

  "I believe the Revolution is so great that its ideas can survive eventhe massacre that you assassins have begun." Then interrupting thecatechism disdainfully, he said: "Enough. I should never have survivedthis day. Arrest me."

  Javogues, too overcome with rage for utterance, consigned him with afurious gesture to his body-guard. From all sides went up a shout ofhatred and anger. Children and women crowded about, vying with oneanother to insult the prisoner; men shook their fists in his face andhooted. Amid curses and raillery, the Girondin walked with collectedsteps, looking into the ranks of his foes with steady eyes.

  They had gone but a block when they encountered Nicole and Barabant.At the sight of Goursac in custody, surrounded by the snarling pack,the two, obeying only their generous impulses, sprang forward withoutstretched hands:

  "What, you, my friend!" Nicole cried, in astonishment and sorrow. "Theyhave arrested you!"

  "No, they are liberating me," he answered, with a smile. He pressedtheir hands. "Adieu, Nicole; adieu, Barabant; and thanks."

  But suddenly the voice of la Mere Corniche rose shrilly:

  "He is the friend of the Girondin. He is contre-revolutionnaire. Arrestthe man Barabant!"

  Cramoisin took up the cry.

  "He who pities an enemy of the Nation is a traitor. Arrest him!"

  Boudgoust and Jambony, joining in, shouted:

  "Arrest him! Arrest him!"

  In the abject crowd, terrified by these four men, a murmur, amuttering, a rumble, circulated, which it waited to convert into eitherprotest or approval as Javogues should pronounce.

  As the Marseillais unwillingly approached, Nicole, dragging Barabantback, whispered in his ear that eternal cry of woman:

  "Save thyself. Thy life belongs to me."

  "Citoyen Barabant," Javogues said sternly, "did you greet this man as aGirondin?"

  "I greeted him," Barabant said slowly, "as a man who has done mekindnesses in the past."

  Before this allusion to his own indebtedness Javogues hesitated, butthe cries of the crowd urged him on.

  "He evades the question!"

  "He's a Girondin!"

  "Ask him if he's a Girondin!"

  The last cry, from la Mere Corniche, imposed itself above the rest.

  "Citoyen Barabant," Javogues asked, "are you a Girondin?"

  As Barabant hesitated, Nicole sought the glance of Goursac, invokinghis aid. The Girondin, who saw no one but her, perceiving her motive,thought bitterly: "I die, and she cannot spare me a look of pity!"

  The crowd was clamoring.

  "He hesitates!"

  "He refuses!"

  "Arrest him!"

  At their cries, Barabant decided.

  "I am not a Girondin," he said.

  A chorus of approval greeted the renunciation, but la Mere Corniche,not to be balked, cried:

  "He is deceiving us!"

  Those who wished to save him called to him: "Cry, Vive les Jacobins!"

  Barabant, all escape denied him, shouted:

  "Vive la Nation! Vive les Jacobins!"

  Then, while la Mere Corniche and the three were silent in helplessrage, the crowd, which adored Barabant, surrounded him, slapping him onthe shoulders, shaking his hand, congratulating him. With one accordthe shout went up: "Vive Barabant!"

  When the shouting died, Nicole heard the rasping voice of Goursacsaying to his captors with triumphant sarcasm:

  "I see no further need of delay; proceed."