CHAPTER XV.
THE MAN WITH THE MODEL.
With no need to be spurred in his quest, Gilbert darted through therooms and as it would have taken too long to climb the walls, he madefor the front door, which he opened himself and bounded out on thestreet.
Knowing Paris intimately, he reached the spot indicated by Andrea in hervision without delay and his first question to a storekeeper, who hadwitnessed the accident to the boy, confirmed the statement.
He proceeded straightway to the door in the alley, and knocked.
"Who knocks?" challenged a woman's voice.
"I, the father of the wounded child whom you succored," replied theknocker.
"Open, Albertine," said a man's voice: "it is Dr. Gilbert."
He was let into a cellar, or rather cavern, down some moldering steps,lighted by a lamp set on the table cumbered with printed papers, booksand manuscripts as Andrea had described.
In the shadow, and on a mattress, young Gilbert lay, but held out hisarms to his father, calling him. However powerful the philosophicalcommand in Gilbert, paternal love overruled decorum, and he sprang tothe boy whom he pressed to his breast, with care not to hurt his bruisedchest or his cut arm. After a long, fond kiss, he turned to thank thegood Samaritan. He was standing with his feet far apart, one hand on thetable, the other on his hip, lit by the lamp of which he had removed theshade the better to illumine the scene.
"Look, Albertine," said he, "and with me thank the chance enabling me todo a good turn for one of my brothers."
The speaker was a green and sallow man, like one of those country clownswhom Latona's wrath pursued and who was turning to a frog. Gilbertshuddered, thinking that he had seen this abortion before as through asheet of blood.
He drew nearer to Sebastian and hugged him once more. But triumphingover his first impulse, he went back to the strange man who had soappalled Andrea in the second-sight vision, and said:
"Receive all the thanks of a father, sir, for having preserved his son:they are sincere and come right from his heart."
"I have merely done my duty as prescribed by nature and recommended byscience," replied the other. "I am a man, and as Terence says, nothinghuman is foreign to me; besides, I have a tender heart, and cannot seeeven an insect suffer; consequently still less my fellow man."
"May I learn to what fervent philanthropist I have the honor to speak?"
"Do you not know your brother-physician?" said the surgeon, laughing inwhat he wanted to seem benevolence though it was ghastly. "I know you,Dr. Gilbert, the friend of the American patriots, and of Lafayette!" Helaid peculiar stress on this name. "The republican of America andFrance, the honorable Utopist who has written magnificent articles onconstitutional government, which you sent to Louis XVI. from the States,and for which he lodged you in the Bastile, the moment you touchedFrench soil. You wanted to save him by clearing the road to the future,and he opened that into jail--regular royal gratitude!"
He laughed again, this time terribly and threateningly.
"If you know me it is a farther reason for me to insist on learning towhom I am indebted."
"Oh, it is a long while since we made acquaintance," said the surgeon."Twenty years, sir, on the dreadful night of the thirtieth of May, 1770;the night when the fireworks exploded by accident among the people inthe Paris square, and injured and killed many who came to rejoice overthe wedding of the Archduchess and our Prince Royal, but who had tocurse their names. You were but a boy whom Rousseau brought to me,wounded and crushed almost to death, and I bled you on a board amid thedead and the cut-off limbs. Yet that awful night is a pleasant memory tome for I was able to save many existences by my steel knowing where todissever to preserve life and where to cut to spare pain."
"You are Jean Paul Marat, then," cried Gilbert, falling back a stepdespite himself.
"Mark, Albertine, that my name makes some effect," said Marat with asinister laugh.
"But I thought you were physician to Count Artois; why are you in thiscave, why lighted by this smoky lamp?"
"I was the Prince's veterinary surgeon, you mean. But he emigrated? noprince, no stables; no stables, no vet. Besides, I gave in myresignation, for I would no longer serve the tyrants."
The dwarf drew himself up to the full extent of his form.
"But, in short, why are you in this hole?"
"Because, Master Philosopher, I am a sound patriot writing to decry theambitious; Bailly fears me, Necker detests me, and Lafayette sets theNational Guard on to hunt me down and has put a price on my head--theaspiring dictator! but I brave him! out of my hole, I pursue him, anddenounce the Caesar. Do you know what he has done? He has had fifteenthousand snuffboxes made with his portrait on them, which hides sometrick. So I entreat all good citizens to smash them when found. It isthe rallying sign for the great Royalist Plot, for you cannot beignorant that Lafayette is conspiring with the Queen while poor Louis isblubbering scalding tears over the blunders the Austrian is leading himinto.
"The Queen," said Gilbert pensively.
"Yes; don't tell me that she is not plotting: lately she gave away somany white cockades that white ribbon went away up in the market. It isa fact, for I had it from one of the workgirls of Bertin the dressmaker,her Prime Minister in Fashions, who used to say: 'I have been discussingmatters this morning with her Majesty.'"
"And how do you denounce such things?" inquired the doctor.
"In my newspaper, the one I have just started, twenty numbers havingappeared. It is 'The Friend of the people or the Parisian Publicist,' animpartial political organ. To pay for the paper and the printing--lookbehind you--I have sold the sheets and blankets off my bed."
Turning, Gilbert indeed saw that Sebastian lay on the mattressabsolutely bare, but he had fallen asleep, overcome with pain andfatigue. He went up to him to see that it was not a swoon, but reassuredby the regular breathing he, returned to this journalist, whoirresistibly inspired him with the interest we feel for a hyena, tigeror other wild beast.
"Who help you in this gigantic work?" he inquired.
"My staff?" sneered Marat. "Ha, ha, ha! the geese fly in files: theeagle soars alone. My helpers are these," and he showed his head andhands. "I write the whole paper single handed--I can show you the copy,though it runs into sixteen pages octavo sometimes, and often I usesmall type though I commenced with large. So, it is not merely anewspaper--but a personality--it is Marat!"
"Enormous labor--how do you manage it?" asked the other doctor.
"It is the secret of nature--a compact I have made with death. I havegiven ten years of my life, so that I need no rest by day and no sleepby night. My existence is summed up in writing: I do it day and night.Lafayette's police coop me up in this cell, where they chain me body andsoul to my work: they have doubled my activity. It was heavy on me atfirst but I am inured to it. It delights me now to see poor humanitythrough this airhole, by the narrow and slanting beam. From my gloomyden I judge mankind living, and science and politics without appeal.With one hand I demolish the savants, with the other the politicians. Ishall upset the whole state of things, like Samson destroying theTemple, and under the ruins perhaps crushing me, I shall bury thethrone!"
In spite of himself the hearer shuddered: in his rags and thepoverty-stricken vault this man repeated very nearly what Cagliostro hadsaid in his palace under his embroidered clothes.
"But when you are so popular, why do you not try for a nomination in theNational Assembly?" he asked.
"Because the day has not come for that," replied the demagogue;expressing his regret, he continued, "Oh, were I a tribune of themasses, sustained by only a few thousand of determined men, I answer forthe Constitution being perfectly safe in six weeks: the politicalmachine should move better: no villain would dare play ticks with it:the Nation should be free and happy: in less than a year, it should beflourishing and redoubtable: and thus would it remain while I waserect."
The vain creature was transformed under Gilbert's eyes: his eyes becamebloodsh
ot; his yellow skin shone with sweat; the monster became great inhis hideousness as another is grand in his beauty.
"Yes, but I am not a representative," he proceeded, resuming his trainof ideas from where he had interrupted himself: "I have not thethousands of followers. No, but I am a journalist, and have my weaponsand ammunition, my subscribers and readers, for whom I am an oracle, aprophet and a diviner. I have my following for whom I am a friend, and Ilead them on, trembling, from treachery to treachery, discovery todiscovery, from one dreadful thing to another. In the first number ofThe Friend of the People, I denounced the upper classes saying thatthere were six hundred guilty wretches in France and that number ofropes-ends would do the job: but I made a mistake, ha, ha! The deeds ofthe fifth and sixth of October opened my eyes and I see that we musthang twenty thousand of the patricians."
Gilbert smiled, for fury elevated to this point, seemed madness to him.
"Why, there is not enough hemp in France to do this work, and rope wouldgo up in price," he said.
"That is why I am looking round for some other means," returned Marat,"more expeditious and novel. Do you know whom I expect this evening? oneof our brother medicos, a member of the National Assembly whom you mustknow by name, Dr. Guillotin----"
"The one who moved that the Assembly, expelled from the Session Hall atVersailles, should meet in the Tennis Court a learned man?"
"Do you know what this able citizen has discovered? a marvellous machinewhich kills without pain, for death must be punishment not torture; hehas invented it and we shall try it one of these mornings."
Gilbert started: this was the second time that this brother Invisiblereminded him of the Chief, Cagliostro; no doubt this death-machine wasthe same he had spoken of.
"But you are lucky--a knock! it is he. Run and open the door,Albertine."
The hag, who was the wife--rather the female mate of Marat--rose fromthe stool on which she was squatting, and staggered half asleep towardsthe door.
Giddy with terror, Gilbert went instinctively towards Sebastian, readyto take him in his arms and flee.
"Just think of an automatic executioner," said Marat, enthusiastically,"with no need of a man to set it going; which can, if the knife ischanged a couple of times, cut off three hundred heads a-day!"
"And add," said a bland, melodious voice, behind Marat, "which can cutoff these heads without other sensation than a slight coolness aroundthe neck."
"Oh, is this you, doctor?" exclaimed Marat, turning towards a dapperlittle man of forty or so, whose gentle demeanor and spruce dress made amarked contrast with his host: in his hand he carried a small box suchas children's toys are kept in. "What are you bringing us?"
"A model of my machine, my dear Marat. But I see Dr. Gilbert here,unless I mistake," said the little dandy, trying to pierce theobscurity.
"The same, sir," said the other visitor bowing.
"Enchanted to meet you, sir; you are only too welcome, and I shall behappy to have the opinion of so distinguished a man on my invention. Imust tell you, my dear Marat, that I have found a skillful carpenter,named Guidon, to make my machine on the working scale. He is dear,though, wanting five thousand five hundred francs; but no sacrifice istoo great for me to make for humanity. In two months it will be built,and we can try it: I shall propose it to the Assembly. I hope you willapprove of it in your excellent new paper, though, in sober earnest, themachine recommends itself, as you will see with your own eyes, Dr.Gilbert. But a few lines in the People's Friend will do no harm."
"Be easy on that score; it is not a few lines but a whole number that Ishall dedicate to it."
"You are too good, Marat; but I am not going to let you puff a pig in apoke."
He took out of his pocket a much smaller box, in which a sound indicatedthat some little live thing or several such were fidgeting in theirprison. This noise did not escape Marat's subtle hearing.
"What have you got there?" he asked, putting out his hand towards thebox.
"Mind," said the doctor, drawing it back, "do not let them escape as wecould not catch them again; they are mice whose heads we are going tonick off with the machine. What, are you going to leave us, Dr.Gilbert?"
"Alas, yes, sir, to my great regret; but my son, wounded by being runover by a horse just now, has been relieved by Friend Marat, to whom Ialso owe my own life in an almost similar affair. I have to thank himagain. The boy needs a fresh bed, cares and repose: so that I cannotwitness your interesting experiment."
"But you will come and see the one with the real machine, in two months,you promise, doctor?"
"I pledge my word."
"Doctor," said Marat, "I need not say, keep my abode secret. If yourfriend Lafayette were to discover it he would have me shot like a dog,or hung like a thief."
"Shooting, hanging," exclaimed Guillotin. "But we shall put an end tothese cannibal deaths. We shall have a death, soft, easy, instantaneous,such as old people, disgusted with their life and wishful to pass awaylike sages and philosophers, will prefer to a natural one. Come and seehow it works, Marat!"
And without troubling any farther about Dr. Gilbert, the enthusiastopened his larger box and began to set up on the table a modelapparatus which the surgeon regarded with curiosity equal to hisenthusiasm.
Gilbert profited by their being so engaged, to carry away Sebastian,guided by Albertine who fastened up the outer door after him.
Once in the street, he felt the night wind chill the perspirationgathered on his brow.
"Heavens," he muttered, "what will happen to a city where the cellarsperhaps hide five hundred lovers of mankind who are occupied with suchwork as we have a sample of there? one day they will perform in broaddaylight before the crowd."
It was little distance to his house in St. Honore Street.
The cold revived Sebastian but his father would not let him walk. Whenhe knocked at his door, a heavy step was heard approaching.
"Is that you, Dr. Gilbert?" challenged one within.
"That is Pitou's voice," said the boy.
"Praise heaven, Sebastian is found," shouted Pitou on opening the door."Master Billet," he shouted still more loudly, "Sebastian is found, andall right, I hope, doctor?"
"Without any serious hurt, anyway," replied the other, "Come,Sebastian."
He carried his son up to his bed.
Pitou followed with the light; by his mud-bespattered shoes andstockings it was plain that he had come a long journey.
Indeed, after taking the broken-hearted Catherine home and learning fromher lips that her deep sorrow came from Isidore Charny being called awayto Paris, he took leave of her and Mother Billet, weeping by herbedside, and went home to Haramont. He walked so slowly that he did notget there until daybreak.
He fell off to sleep so that it was not till he awoke, that he found theyouth's letter. Immediately he started to overtake him.
He girded up with a leather strap, took some bread and with a walkingstick in his fist, proceeded to town, where he arrived at eight thatnight.
He found neither the doctor nor his son at home--only Farmer Billet.
This hearty, robust man, unnerved by the bloody scenes witnessed sincethe Taking of the Bastile, of which enterprise he was the leader, had nonews for Pitou.
Their sad waiting was rewarded by the double arrival.
Though tranquil about Sebastian, Pitou, when sent to bed had his budgetto unfold to the farmer. Let no reader think that he revealedCatherine's secrets and spoke of her amour with the young noble. Thehonest soul of the Commander of the Haramont National Guard would notstoop to that story. But he told Billet that the harvest was bad, thebarley a failure, part of the wheat wind-laid, and the barns but a thirdfull--and that he had found Catherine on the road.
Billet was little vexed about the grain, but the illness of his daughterdistressed him.
He ran to Dr. Gilbert with a sad face as the latter was finishing thisnote to Andrea: "Be of good heart; the child is found, with no onehurt."
"Dr. Gilbe
rt, you were right to retain me in town where I might beuseful; but everything has been going wrong in the country while thegood man is away."
Gilbert agreed with his friend that a hearty buxom girl like Catherineshould not faint on the public road. Feeling with a parent, heresponded:
"Go home, my dear Billet, since land and family call you. But do notforget that I shall claim you in the name of the country."
Thus Billet returned home after an absence of three months, although hehad intended to be away only a week.
Pitou followed him, bearing twenty-five louis destined from Gilbert forthe equipment and maintenance of the Haramont National Guard.
Sebastian stayed with his father.
The Hero of the People: A Historical Romance of Love, Liberty and Loyalty Page 15