Robert Tournay: A Romance of the French Revolution

by William Sage

  CHAPTER XXV

  NO. 7 RUE D'ARCIS

  The order signed by Robespierre for the immediate release of a prisonerhad not been questioned by the keeper of the conciergerie, and within afew minutes from the time when Edme presented the document with a heartfluctuating between the wildest hope and the greatest fear, ColonelTournay walked out of the prison a free man.

  The sudden manner of his release, the fact that it had been effected byEdme's own daring and sagacity, and that he owed his life to her whom heloved, made his brain reel. Then the recognition of the danger thatstill menaced him, and above all the woman who was by his side, broughthim back to himself, and he was again cool, alert, and determined as shehad always known him. Drawing her arm through his and walking rapidly inthe shadows of Rue Barillerie, he said quickly:--

  "The pursuit will be instant. Robespierre will ransack all Paris to findus. But I know a hiding-place. Come quickly."

  She looked up at him. "I feel perfectly safe now," she said, andtogether they hurried onward.

  Suddenly she stopped. "But how about Agatha!" she exclaimed, as thethought of her faithful companion came to her mind for the time.

  "Agatha! Where is she?" asked Tournay almost impatiently, chafing at amoment's delay.

  "At the Citizeness Privat's in the Rue Vaugirard. They will surely findand arrest her. Robert, we must not let them."

  "The delay may mean the difference between life and death," repliedTournay, turning in the direction of the Rue Vaugirard; "but we must notlet Agatha fall into Robespierre's clutches."

  In a few minutes they passed up the Rue Vaugirard. "Which is the house?"asked Tournay anxiously.

  "There; the small one with the blinds drawn down. Agatha will beanxiously waiting for me, I know. There she is now in the doorway. Shesees us! Agatha, quick! Never mind your hat or cloak. Ask no questions.Now Robert, take us where you will."

  Passing Edme's arm through his own, and with Agatha on the other side,Tournay conducted the two women rapidly down the street.

  At the same moment gendarmes were running in all directions carryingRobespierre's orders.

  Two of them hastened to the house of Citizeness Privat. They found herin bed. Awakened from her sleep, she could only give meagre informationabout her lodgers. There were two of them; one, she thought, was stillin the room across the hall. A tall gendarme opened the door and walkedin without ceremony. He found the room empty, although a few articlesof feminine apparel indicated that it had been occupied recently.

  "Hem!" sniffed the tall gendarme, "women!" Then he called in hiscompanions, and they proceeded to examine everything in the hope offinding a clue.

  At that moment Robert Tournay, Edme, and Agatha were approaching the Rued'Arcis.

  "It is only a step from here," said Tournay encouragingly as theycrossed the bridge St. Michel. "Once there we cannot be safer anywherein Paris. I know of the place from a fellow prisoner in the Luxembourg."

  They passed through a narrow passageway and underneath some houses, andemerged into the Rue d'Arcis. Crossing the street, and looking carefullyin both directions to see if they were unobserved, Tournay struck sevenquick low notes with the knocker on the door. They waited in silence forsome time; then Tournay repeated the knocking a little louder thanbefore. They waited again and listened intently. Edme's teeth began tochatter with nervous excitement, and Tournay looked once moreapprehensively up and down the street.

  "Who knocks?" was the question breathed gently through a small aperturein the door.

  "From Raphael," whispered Tournay, "open quickly."

  "Enter."

  The door swung inward on its hinges, and the three fugitives hastened toaccept the hospitality offered them.

  It was an old man who answered their summons and who closed the doorcarefully after them. He now stood before them shading with his palm acandle, which the draft, blowing through the large empty corridors,threatened to extinguish altogether. The dancing flame threw grotesqueshadows on the wall. As the light played upon the features of the oldman, first touching his white beard and then shining upon his serenebrow, Edme thought she looked upon a face familiar to her in the past,but, no sign of recognition appearing in the eyes that met her gaze, sheattributed it to fancy.

  "Your name is Beaurepaire?" inquired Tournay.

  "That is my name," was the old man's answer.

  In a few words Colonel Tournay told of his acquaintance with St.Hilaire, and explained how, had their plan of escape succeeded, theywould have come there together. Unfortunately he alone had escaped,--andnow came to ask that he and his two companions might remain there inhiding for a few days.

  "You came from Raphael," replied Beaurepaire with the dignity of anearlier time. "The length of your stay is to be determined by your owndesire."

  He led the way along the corridor, down a short flight of steps, througha covered passageway, into what appeared to be an adjoining house;Tournay asked no questions, but, with Edme and Agatha, followedblindly.

  Their aged conductor ushered them into a large room, which had formerlybeen a handsome salon; but the few articles of furniture still remainingin it were decrepit and dusty. The once polished floor was sadly marred,and appeared to have remained unswept for years. The room was wainscotedin dark wood to the height of six feet, and upon the wall above it hungportraits of ladies and gentlemen of the house of St. Hilaire. Here theyhad hung for years before the Revolution, dusty and forgotten.

  At the end and along one side of the room ran a gallery which wasreached by a short straight flight of stairs, and around this galleryfrom floor to ceiling were shelves of books.

  Beaurepaire mounted the stairs, and looking among the books as ifsearching for a certain volume, pushed back part of a bookcase andrevealed a door. He motioned them to ascend.

  "In here," he said, pointing to a small room with low-studded ceiling,"the two ladies can retire. It is the only room in the house suitablefor their comfort. You, sir," he continued, looking at Colonel Tournay,"will have to lie here upon the gallery floor. There is only a rug tosoften the oak boards, but you are, I see, a soldier. To-morrow I willsee what can be done to make the place more habitable."

  Edme and Agatha passed through the aperture in the wall, the venerableBeaurepaire bowing low before them.

  "At daylight I will bring you some food; until then I wish you goodrepose." He withdrew, and Colonel Tournay was left to stretch himselfout upon the gallery floor to get what sleep he could.

  It was daylight when he opened his eyes, and looking through thebalustrade to the room below, saw a loaf of bread, some grapes, and asteaming pitcher of hot milk set on a large mahogany table which stoodagainst the wall. He had evidently been awakened by the entrance of hishost, for the figure of Beaurepaire was standing with his back to him,looking out of the window into the courtyard. The colonel kicked asidethe rugs which had served him for a bed, and rising to his feet, startedto descend.

  The figure at the window turned at the sound of the tread upon thestairs, and Tournay stopped short with one hand on the rail. "He hasshaved off his flowing beard overnight," was his astonished thought.Then the next instant he recognized that it was not Beaurepaire, butFather Ambrose, the old priest of La Thierry, who stood before him.

  The latter approached with his usual dignity.

  "Father Ambrose," exclaimed Tournay in surprise, "how can this be? Who,then, is this Beaurepaire?"

  "He is my brother. I have lived here for more than six months. I saw youwhen you came last night, but waited until now before making myselfknown. Inform me, my good sir, how fares it with Mademoiselle deRochefort?"

  "You shall see her presently. She and Agatha are in the chamber behindthe secret panel. They are doubtless much fatigued from the excitementof yesterday, and we would better let them sleep as long as they can. Inthe meantime I will eat some of this food, for I am desperately hungry."

  "Do so, my son," replied the priest. "I would eat with you, but for thefact that I never break my fast
before noon."

  Tournay helped himself to a generous slice of bread and a bunch ofgrapes.

  "Tell me," he asked, as he began on the luscious fruit, "how do youobtain the necessities of life? Do you dare venture out to buy them?"

  "I have not set my foot outside the door since I first entered. All thecommunication with the outside world has been held by my brother, whohas managed to keep free from suspicion, and who goes and comes in hisquiet way as the occasion arises."

  A knock upon the door brought Tournay to his feet. He stopped with thepitcher of milk in one hand and looked at Father Ambrose.

  "There is no cause for alarm," said the priest; "it is my brother'sknock;" and going to the door he drew back the bolt.

  Tournay set down the milk jug untasted, with an exclamation of surprise,as he saw Gaillard burst into the room, followed by the old manBeaurepaire. The actor, no longer dressed in the disguise of an old man,was greatly excited.

  "Great news, my colonel!" he exclaimed without stopping to explain howhe had found his way there. "Robespierre has been arrested by theconvention."

  Tournay sprang forward and grasped his friend by both shoulders. "Atlast they have done it!" he cried excitedly. "Gaillard, tell me aboutit. How was it brought about?"

  "Embrace me again, my colonel," exclaimed Gaillard, throwing his armsabout Tournay and talking all the time. "It was this way: I heard thecry in the streets that the convention had risen almost to a man andarrested Robespierre and a few of his nearest satellites. At once I ranto the conciergerie to try and see you. Everything was in confusion. Thenews of Robespierre's arrest had just reached there. 'Can I see ColonelTournay?' I demanded of the jailer.

  "'He is not here,' he answered, turning from me to a dozen other excitedquestioners.

  "'He has not been sent to the guillotine?' I cried, with my heart in mymouth.

  "'No; liberated by Robespierre's order last night.'

  "'What!' I shouted, thinking the man mad.

  "'The order was countermanded fifteen minutes after the citizen colonelhad left the prison,' cried the warden in reply. 'Don't ask me any morequestions. My head is in a whirl; I cannot think.'

  "I, myself, was so excited I could not think; but when I collected myfew senses I recollected that St. Hilaire had told you of a place ofrefuge in case of emergency. 'My little colonel is there,' I said tomyself, and flew here on the wind. Everywhere along the way people werecongratulating one another. The greatest excitement prevailed. No noticewas taken of an old man of eighty running like a lad of sixteen. When Ireached your door I took off my wig and beard and put them in my pocket.Ah, my colonel, we shall wear our own faces; we shall speak our ownminds, now that the tyrant himself is in the toils."

  "Will they be able to keep him there?" asked Father Ambrose; "he willnot yield without a struggle. The Jacobins may try to arouse the massesto rescue him."

  "The populace is seething with excitement," said Gaillard. "Somequarters of the town are for the fallen tyrant; others are against him.In the Faubourg St. Antoine, the stronghold of the Jacobins, Robespierreis openly denounced by some, yet his adherents are still strong thereand are arming themselves. The convention stands firm as a rock. 'Downwith the tyrant!' is the cry."

  "There is work for us," exclaimed Tournay. "Father Ambrose," hecontinued, turning to the priest, "I must go out at once. I leave you totell the news to Mademoiselle de Rochefort. Tell her to remain here inthe strictest seclusion until I return and assure her that we can leavehere in safety. I leave her in your keeping, Father Ambrose. Now,Gaillard, let us go."

  In the streets, Tournay found that his friend had not exaggerated thepopular excitement. As they walked along both he and Gaillard kepttheir ears alert to hear everything that was said.

  Suddenly a noise caused them to stop and look into each other's faceswith consternation.

  "The tumbrils!" exclaimed Gaillard, in answer to Tournay's look.

  "That looks bad for our party," said Tournay. "One would expect theexecutions to cease, or at least be suspended, on the day ofRobespierre's arrest."

  "There is no one to give a coherent order," replied Gaillard. "Some ofthe prison governors do not know which way to turn, or whom to obey. Thesame with the police. They need a leader."

  As he spoke they turned into the Rue Vaugirard and saw coming towardthem down the street two death carts, escorted by a dozen gendarmes. Thestreet was choked with a howling mass of people, and from their shoutsit was manifest that some were demanding that the carts be sent back,while others were equally vociferous in urging them on. Meanwhile, thegendarmes stolidly made their way through the crowd as best they could.

  Many of the occupants of the tumbrils leaned supplicatingly over thesides of the carts and implored the people to save them.

  The crowd finally became so large as to impede the further progress ofthe carts.

  "My God!" cried Tournay, grasping Gaillard by the arm. "There is St.Hilaire."

  In the second cart stood the Citizen St. Hilaire. He held himself erectand stood motionless, his arms, like those of the rest of theprisoners, tightly pinioned behind him. But it could be seen that he wasaddressing the populace and exciting their sympathy. By his side wasMadame d'Arlincourt, her large blue eyes fixed intently upon St.Hilaire; she seemed unmindful of the scene around her, and to be alreadyin another world.

  In the rear of the cart, dressed in white, was La Liberte. Her face wasflushed and animated, and she was talking loudly and rapidly to thecrowd which followed the tumbril.

  Tournay sprang to the head of the procession. He still wore his uniform,and the crowd made way for him.

  "Why did you take these tumbrils out to-day?" he demanded of thegendarmes. "Do you not know that Robespierre is in prison and theexecutions are to be stopped?"

  "I have my orders from the keeper of the Luxembourg. I am to take thesetumbrils to the Place de la Revolution," replied the officer; thenaddressing the crowd, he cried, "Make way there, citizens, make waythere and let us proceed!"

  "No, no!" cried a great number of voices, while others cried out, "Yes,make way!" But all still blocked the passage of the carts.

  "The keeper of the Luxembourg had no authority to order the execution ofthese prisoners to-day. Take them at once back to the prison," orderedTournay.

  "Where is your authority? Show it to me and I will obey you," repliedthe police officer.

  "This is not a day on which we present written authority," answeredTournay. "I tell you I have the right to order you back to the prison.It is the will of the convention."

  "I take my orders from the Commune," replied the gendarme stubbornly. "Imust go forward."

  Gaillard had meantime worked his way to Tournay's shoulder, and thelatter said a few words in his ear. Gaillard plunged into the crowd andwas off like a shot in the direction of the convention.

  "Citizens, let us pass!" cried the gendarmes impatiently.

  "Citizens," Tournay cried out in a loud voice, "it is the will of theconvention that no executions take place to-day. These carts must notgo. I call upon you to help me." As he spoke he ran to the horses'heads. The crowd swept the gendarmes to one side, and in a moment's timethe tumbrils were turned about.

  Then a clatter of hoofs was heard, accompanied by angry shouts, and thecrowd broke and scattered in all directions, as Commandant Henriot,followed by a troop of mounted police, rode through them.

  "What is the meaning of this?" he roared out.

  "Where shall we go, back to the Luxembourg or forward to the Place de laRevolution?" cried out the bewildered gendarmes who guarded thetumbrils.

  "To the guillotine, of course, always the guillotine," answered Henriot."About, face! Citizens, disperse!"

  The crowd had closed up and were muttering their disapproval, many evengoing so far as to flourish weapons.

  "Citizens," cried Tournay fearlessly, "this man Henriot has beenindicted by the convention. He should now be a prisoner withRobespierre."

  "Charge the crowd!" yelled
Henriot to his lieutenant. "I will deal withthis fellow; I know him. His name is Tournay." And he rode his horse atthe colonel.

  The latter sprang to one side, and seizing a sword from a gendarme,parried the trust of Henriot's weapon. Catching the horse by the bridle,he struck an upward blow at the commandant. The animal plunged forwardand Tournay was thrown to the pavement, while the crowd fled before thecharge of the mounted troops.

  Before Henriot could wheel his charger, Tournay was on his feet, andrealizing the impossibility of rallying any forces to contend withHenriot's, he took the first corner and made the best of his way up anarrow and deserted street.

  He was somewhat shaken and bruised from his encounter, and stopping torecover breath for the first time, he noticed that the blood was flowingfreely from a cut over the forehead which he had received during theshort melee.

  As he stanched the wound with his handkerchief, he heard footstepsbehind him, and turning, saw a man dressed in the uniform of his ownregiment running toward him. Wiping the blood from his eyes, herecognized Captain Dessarts who had served with him for the past year.

  "You are wounded, colonel!" exclaimed Dessarts, taking the hand whichTournay stretched out to him. "Can I assist you?"

  "It is only a scalp wound, but it bleeds villainously. You can tie thishandkerchief about my head if you will."

  "I tried to help you rally the crowd, my colonel, but it was hopeless.Yet with a few good soldiers behind his back, one could easily havecleared the streets of those hulking gendarmes. Do I hurt you?" hecontinued as he tied the knot.

  "No," answered Tournay. "Tie it quickly and then come with me."

  "I must go to the barracks, Colonel Tournay," replied Dessarts. "Yourold regiment has been disbanded. I am here with my company, ordered tojoin another regiment and proceed to the Vendee."

  "Where are your men quartered?" asked Tournay excitedly.

  "Two streets above here."

  "Will they obey you absolutely?"

  "To the last man, my colonel."

  "Will you follow me without a question?"

  "To the death, my colonel."

  "Come then, and bring me to your men at once. Every instant is worth alife. Let us run."

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE END OF THE TERROR

  Surrounded by Henriot's mounted guards, the tumbrils lumbered slowly tothe Place de la Revolution. There a large crowd had assembled to witnessthe daily tribute to the guillotine.

  "You shall not be disappointed, my patriots!" cried Henriot.

  They answered him with a cheer. The crowd here was in sympathy with him,and he felt grimly cheerful.

  "My friends, you will cheer again when you learn that one hour agoRobespierre was set free by me. The convention is trembling. The Communetriumphs."

  Again the crowd cheered.

  Henriot rode up to the guillotine.

  "Sanson," he cried out to the executioner, "here is your dailyallowance. We have kept you waiting, but you can now use dispatch."

  The occupants in the tumbrils had seen their last hope of deliverancevanish in the Rue Vaugirard. They were fully prepared for death. Oneafter another they mounted the fatal scaffold and were led to theguillotine.

  Some went bravely forward to meet their fate. Others almost fainted andwere nearly dead from fear by the time they reached the hands of Sanson.

  La Liberte came forward with a firm step. As she did so, the crowd setup a deafening shout. It was a shout of genuine astonishment at thesight of this well-known figure, though mingled with it were cries ofsatisfaction from those who had been jealous of her popularity. Somethought it was a new escapade on her part, and they applauded it all thelouder because of its daring nature.

  Even the red-handed Sanson opened his huge bull's-mouth with surprise asshe appeared before him.

  "Bon jour, Sanson," said she airily; "you did not look for me to-day, Iimagine. Do not touch me," she exclaimed as he stretched out his largehand towards her. "I have sent too many along this road, not to know theway myself, alone." Then walking down until she stood under the veryshadow of the knife she looked out over the sea of faces.

  The mighty yell was repeated.

  The pallor of approaching death was on her face, but unflinchingly shemet the gaze of thousands, while with a toss of her chestnut curls shesurveyed them proudly, taking the shouts as a tribute to herself.

  Suddenly her face became animated and the color rushed back to hercheeks.

  "Well done, my compatriot!" she exclaimed aloud; she no longer saw thecrowd at her feet, but stood transfixed, her gaze on the further cornerof the square.

  There Robert Tournay, at the head of some of his own men, charged uponHenriot's troops. Steel clashed upon steel, and Tournay's men pressedon.

  "Bravely struck, my compatriot. Well parried, my compatriot. That wasworthy of my brave colonel. One little moment, Sanson," she pleaded asthe burly executioner caught her by the arm.

  "You have had twice the allotted time already," he objected; "you arekeeping the others waiting."

  "One more look, Sanson, just one! Ah, well done, my brave."

  "En avant," said the ruthless Sanson.

  "Good-by, compatriot," murmured La Liberte, a tear glistening in hereye. The knife descended, and La Liberte was no more.

  "Another!" said the insatiable executioner, extending his huge handstowards the cart.

  St. Hilaire looked into Madame d'Arlincourt's face. Their eyes met full.

  "Madame," he said, "in such a case as this you will pardon me if Iprecede you," and stepping in front of her he walked quietly up thescaffold.

  Meantime Colonel Tournay, with Captain Dessarts at his shoulder and acompany of his own troops behind him, had dashed out of a side streetinto the Place de la Revolution.

  Tournay, with the ends of the blood-stained kerchief flapping on hisforehead, and the sword wrested from the gendarme waving in his hand,urged his men forward.

  Commandant Henriot, his forces augmented by a company of civic guards,charged upon them. The commandant's men outnumbered those led by thecolonel, two to one, but in the shock that followed the tried veteransheld together like a granite wall, and broke through Henriot's troops,hurling them in disorder to the right and left of the square.

  Tournay saw the white-clad figure of La Liberte disappear under theglittering knife. He saw St. Hilaire standing on the scaffold with headturned toward Madame d'Arlincourt.

  "Soldiers, on to the guillotine!" cried the colonel, dashing forward atfull speed.

  The populace, who, between the blood of the executions and the battlegoing on in the square, were mad with excitement, pressed forward, andcircled about the scaffold, angrily menacing the approaching troops, whoseemed about to put an end to their entertainment.

  "Sweep them away!" cried Tournay ruthlessly, his eye still upon thescaffold where St. Hilaire stood. "Use the bayonet!"

  Meanwhile Henriot, by desperate efforts, had rallied his own troopers atthe other side of the square, while his civic guards, having no furtherstomach for the fray, had fled incontinently.

  "Colonel, they are about to attack us in the rear," said Dessartswarningly.

  Tournay wheeled his men about as the enemy rode at them for a secondtime. Henriot, with his brandy-swollen face purple with excitement, wasreeling drunk in his saddle, yet he plunged forward with the desperatecourage of a baited bull.

  "Down with the traitor!" he yelled. "The Commune must triumph;Robespierre is free, and the Republic lives."

  With the answering cry of "Long live the Republic!" Tournay's men bracedthemselves firmly together.

  "Fire!" commanded the colonel. A deadly volley poured into thecommandant's forces.

  "Charge!"

  Henriot's troops were dashed back, scattered in all directions, andtheir drunken commander, putting spurs to his horse, fled cursing fromthe scene.

  The populace, now thoroughly dismayed and frightened, parted on allsides before the soldiers. Tournay ran to the guillotine. He leap
ed upthe steps of the scaffold.

  "In the name of the convention, halt!" he cried.

  "I know nothing about the convention," protested Sanson, laying his handupon St. Hilaire's shoulder. "This man is sent to me to beguillotined--and"--

  Tournay threw the executioner from the platform to the ground below, andcutting the cords that bound St. Hilaire set his arms at liberty.

  Captain Dessarts formed his men around the scaffold to preventinterference on the part of the crowd. St. Hilaire took Tournay by thehand.

  "You have come in time, colonel, to do me a great service," he said."Now give me a weapon, and let me take part in any further fight."

  Tournay gave him a pistol. St. Hilaire went to the side of Madamed'Arlincourt. The crowd began again to surge around the soldiersthreateningly.

  "Let the guillotine go on!" "Let the executioner finish his work!" werethe cries from all sides.

  "Citizens," yelled Sanson, who had risen to his feet and was now rubbinghis bruised sides, "you are a thousand. They are only a few soldiers.Take back the prisoners and I will execute them."

  "Make ready--aim," was Colonel Tournay's quick command. The musketsclicked; the crowd fell back. "Fix bayonets, forward march." And throughthe press Colonel Tournay bore those whom he had saved from theguillotine.

  No organized attempt was made to attack them, and the party proceeded tothe Rue d'Arcis unmolested. Here Tournay turned to his captain.

  "Dessarts, leave a file of men here and take the others back to theirbarracks for repose, but hold them subject to immediate orders."

  "Very good, my colonel," and the soldiers were marched away.

  Madame d'Arlincourt showed signs of succumbing to the effects of theterrible strain to which she had been subjected, and St. Hilaire,supporting her gently, hastened to the door of his former servant.

  In another instant they were all inside.

  They passed through the corridor and entered the wainscoted salon. Asthey did so the bookcase above moved gently. Edme entered through thesecret door and stood for an instant surrounded by a frame of dustybooks, looking down upon them.

  In her plain gown of homespun, with her skin browned by exposure to theair, and cheeks which had the glow of health in them despite thehardship she had undergone, Edme de Rochefort was a different picturefrom that of the girl of five years before. Yet it was not the presentEdme that suffered by comparison.

  With a cry of joy she hastened down the stairs. "I have been told theglorious news," she cried. "Have you returned to tell me it is all true?But you are wounded!" she exclaimed in the same breath, with a cry ofalarm.

  "'Tis nothing," Tournay replied, folding her in his arms. "I do not evenfeel it."

  "Is all the danger over?" she asked anxiously, looking up in his face.

  "Not all over," he answered caressingly. "The result hangs in thebalance, but we shall win, we shall surely win. At present we have needof a little food and repose. St. Hilaire and myself must go out againshortly. Has Gaillard come with a message? I expected him from theconvention," he continued, addressing Beaurepaire.

  "He has not returned," was the answer.

  Edme turned to assist Agatha in caring for Madame d'Arlincourt, whileold Beaurepaire busied himself in setting forth some food upon thetable.

  At this moment Gaillard burst into the room, followed by Father Ambrose.

  "I bring glorious news!" cried the actor excitedly. "Robespierre, at onetime released by the aid of Henriot, has been rearrested. He hasattempted suicide. Henriot, St. Just, Couthon, are also arrested. Theywill all be sent to the guillotine. The convention triumphs. The Communeis defeated. The Reign of Terror is at an end."

  The news was received with a great shout of joy. "Listen," called outGaillard, "and you will learn what the people think."

  The booming of guns and the ringing of bells throughout the cityverified his statement.

  "We have won!" said Colonel Tournay.

  "Let us celebrate the victory by this feast that Beaurepaire hasprovided!" exclaimed St. Hilaire.

  Tournay drew Edme into the recess of one of the large windows. The soundof a whole city rejoicing at the abolition of the Reign of Terror filledthe air. In the room at the back the voices of Gaillard and St. Hilairewere heard in joyful conversation.

  For a moment they stood in silence. She looked into his eyes and readthe question there.

  A MOMENT THEY STOOD IN SILENCE]

  "Yes," her eyes answered.

  "In order to save your life," he said, "Father Ambrose once stated thatyou and I were man and wife. It was a subterfuge, and had no othermeaning. We now stand before him once again; will you let him marry usnow?"

  "Yes, Robert."

  With a look of pride and happiness upon his face Tournay faced about andaddressed the company.

  "There can be no more fitting time than this," he said, "to present toyou my bride," and he looked proudly down at Edme who still had her armthrough his.

  "Father Ambrose," Tournay went on, "will you marry us now?"

  The priest, who had evidently had a premonition of the event, was allprepared; and in the wainscoted salon, with the portraits of the oldregime looking down upon them from the walls, Robert Tournay, a colonelof the Republic, and Edme de Rochefort, of the ancient Regime of France,were made man and wife.

  "Let us drink a toast to them!" cried St. Hilaire as the happy partygathered about the table after the ceremony. "Long life and happiness toColonel Robert Tournay and his bride!"

  Beaurepaire filled their glasses with some rare old Burgundy, which hedrew from some hidden stores in the cellar, and the toast was drunk withenthusiasm.

  St. Hilaire's eyes met Madame d'Arlincourt's, and the look that wasinterchanged foretold their future.

  Tournay stood in silence for a moment, and when he did speak there was anote in his voice which showed how deep was his emotion. "I will giveyou a toast. Let us drink to the new France; for after all," hecontinued, looking from one to the other, "we are all Frenchmen. Thefate of France must be our fate. With her we must stand or fall. A newFrance has now risen from the ashes of the old. To her we turn with newhope."

  "Long live the Republic!" cried Gaillard.

  Tournay, St. Hilaire, and Gaillard touched glasses and looked into oneanother's eyes. They understood one another as brave men do.

  "Nations may rise or they may crumble into dust," said Colonel Tournay,"but Justice and Liberty are eternal. They will live always in thehearts of men."

  "And Love also," whispered Edme in his ear.

  "Yes, truly, and Love also, sweetheart."