"And what enhances your pupil"s worth, my dear colleague, is that his modesty is equal to his patriotism. Robespierre, mounting the tribunal after Lebrenn, commended his discourse with the words: "This young man has just spoken to us in the language of the philosopher, the historian, the statesman. He is a simple workman, who toils ten hours a day at his rough trade of iron-worker to supply his wants." These words of Robespierre"s signalized the ovation received by Lebrenn at the Jacobins. And now I take my leave of you, my dear Desmarais, reiterating my regret at having failed in the mission you entrusted me with to St.
Just. Moreover, he will probably tell you himself to-morrow at the Convention how sensible he was of your tenders, and for what reasons he feels constrained to decline them."
"I should have been happy to have for son-in-law a man as eminent in talent as for patriotism. I have firmly made up my mind not to give my daughter to anyone but a republican of our stripe, dear colleague."
"But now I think of it," interjected Billaud-Varenne, stopping and coming back a few steps, "you desire for son-in-law a republican eminent alike for his love of country and his talent? Is that your desire?"
"It is my most ardent wish!"
"Well, then, my dear Desmarais, you have that son-in-law under your hand--your pupil, Citizen John Lebrenn! The young man has lived close beside you, you must be acquainted with his manners and his private character. Mademoiselle Desmarais, reared by you in austere principles, ought, allowing for her personal inclinations, which should always be respected, to welcome such an aspirant to her hand. John Lebrenn is young, and of attractive appearance. So that, if such a marriage were pleasing to your daughter, would it not be an act calculated to draw toward you everyone"s affection, for having begun the merging of the cla.s.ses? Everybody would applaud the marriage of the daughter of the rich bourgeois, of the advocate of renown, with the simple artisan. What think you of the idea, my dear colleague?"
"You shall soon know," replied advocate Desmarais after a moment"s reflection, during which he vainly racked his brains for an avenue of escape from the meshes of his own duplicity, now closed in upon him.
Then he ran to the table, seated himself, seized paper and pen, and dashed off a few lines, while he said silently to himself:
"The danger admits of no hesitation. The sacrifice is consummated. After Billaud-Varenne"s utterances on the "merging of the cla.s.ses," I can no longer hang back. He is interested in Lebrenn; he will inform the boy of the proposal he just made to me; he will learn that John and my daughter have loved each other for four years and more. It will then be clear to Billaud-Varenne that my only reason for opposition to the union is my repugnance to giving my daughter to a workingman. I shudder for the consequences! Such a revelation, coming on the heels of Hubert"s escape and the discovery of the depot of royalist arms and proclamations in my house, is capable of leading me straight to the guillotine!"
While indulging in these reflections, Desmarais indicted the following letter to John Lebrenn:
My dear John:
I await you at once, at my home. My daughter is yours, on one only condition, which I expect from your loyalty in which I have absolute confidence.
That condition is:
_Never to mention to anyone, and particularly not to Billaud-Varenne, that you loved my daughter four years ago._
I await you.
Fraternal greetings,
DESMARAIS.
The letter written, Desmarais rang. Gertrude appeared and the lawyer said to her:
"Carry this letter immediately to Citizen John Lebrenn, and wait for an answer."
"Yes, monsieur," answered the maid, and went on her errand.
"My dear colleague, excuse me for an instant, and I shall see whether my wife and daughter can receive us."
Thus left alone, Billaud-Varenne gave himself up to reflection. "There is a rat here somewhere," he mused. "Why does Desmarais wish to present me to his wife and daughter? Truly there are strange shifts in this man"s conduct. He continually forces upon me a vague mistrust, and yet his vote, his speech, and his deed have always been in accord with the most advanced revolutionary principles. Whence comes this constant fear, which everything awakens in him, of being taken for a traitor? Just now he seemed shocked and startled at the idea which came to me to propose Lebrenn as his son-in-law. Does the bourgeois _sans-culotte_ want to be a bourgeois _gentleman_? Does the rich lawyer fear he will debase himself in giving his daughter to a workman? And finally, what an absurd affectation of stoicism for him to call for the arrest of his wife because she yielded to the respectable sentiment of sisterly tenderness!
Has he not const.i.tuted himself her jailer? Do these exaggerations mask treason or only extreme cowardice? Is Desmarais a traitor or lily-livered? or traitor and coward combined? After all, what matters it? He is an instrument, he is popular, eloquent, subtle, well-listened to in the a.s.sembly. But, in times of reaction, traitors and cowards who by their exaggerations on one side have attained a certain popularity, become no less exaggerated the other way, and, in the desire to save their heads or "give pledges," send in preference their old friends to the scaffold. Desmarais may someday, if my distrust be well grounded, blossom forth into one of these furious reactionists. Lest that be the case, the proof of treason once at hand the evil must be cut out at the root." Punctuating his last words with a gesture of terrible significance, Billaud-Varenne added: "At any rate, let us await facts before forming a final judgment. Marat"s penetration never fails, and he has his eye on our dear colleague."
Billaud-Varenne"s soliloquy was cut short by the return of Desmarais, flanked by his wife and daughter. The latter seemed sweetly moved by the confidence her father had just made her, touching his determination in the matter of her marriage with John Lebrenn. Madam Desmarais, on the contrary, was under the influence of mournful thoughts, by reason of the events in which she found her brother involved, the fate of whom caused her no slight anxiety; she was at much pains to restrain her tears.
The member of the a.s.sembly, bowing with kind and respectful courtesy to the wife of his colleague, spoke first:
"I regret, madam, that it is at a moment so sad to you that I have the honor of being presented; but I hope, indeed I am certain, that my dear colleague will not prolong much more your captivity, but will deliver you from your guardians."
"Citizen Billaud-Varenne, it shall be as you desire. I shall send away the agents charged with keeping guard over Citizeness Desmarais. Jailers in our hall go ill with a day of betrothal."
"What say you, citizen," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Billaud-Varenne. "A day of betrothal?"
"The letter I wrote just this instant, was destined to my pupil Lebrenn.
I announced to him, very simply, that I offered him the hand of my daughter."
"Your procedure is indeed worthy of praise."
"And now, my daughter," continued Desmarais solemnly, "answer me truthfully. Before your departure from Paris for Lyons, you often saw here our young neighbor Lebrenn. What is your opinion of the young citizen?"
"I think that there is no soul more lofty, no character more generous, no heart better than his. He is a young man of worth."
"You consent to wed him?"
"I consent with all the greater willingness, father, because, unknown to you and mother, I have for a long time loved Monsieur John Lebrenn, the valiant iron-worker. I even believe that my affection is returned."
"The young girl is charming in her grace and candor," thought Billaud-Varenne. "What a strange falling out! These two young people love each other in secret! In very truth, it is a romance, an idyll!"
"What, my daughter, you love our young friend, and he loves you!" cried the lawyer, putting on an air of great surprise. "And you hid your love from me? How comes it that you and our friend John made a mystery of the love you felt for each other?"
The return of Gertrude interrupted the colloquy.
"Well! What answer did our young neighbor make to my letter?"
"Citizen John Lebrenn is absent. The porter told me that on leaving the club of the Jacobins, he came to change his clothes, putting on his uniform of munic.i.p.al officer, in order to go to the Temple Prison, where he is to mount guard to-night over Louis Capet. I brought the letter back. Here it is."
"Ah, I regret this mischance, dear colleague," said the lawyer; "especially now that I am aware of the love of these two children for each other. I would have been overjoyed to have you witness the happiness for which you are in part responsible."
"I share your regrets, dear colleague," replied Billaud-Varenne; then, smiling, after a moment"s thought: "It remains with you to grant me a compensation for which I shall be very grateful. Entrust to me this letter, which I will have delivered, this very evening at the Temple, to our young friend."
"Ah, sir, how good you are," said Charlotte quickly, blushing with emotion. "Thank you for your gracious offer."
"Here is the letter, dear colleague. As much as my daughter, I thank you for your cordial interest," added the lawyer, handing over the missive; while he said to himself: "Billaud-Varenne is incapable of opening a letter confided to him and addressed to John Lebrenn. He will not see him to-night; I need, then, fear no indiscretion on the boy"s part, and it is for me now to inform John, as soon as possible, of my projects and the conditions I impose upon him for his marriage."
"Adieu, madam, adieu, mademoiselle," Billaud-Varenne was saying to the two women, as he bowed to each; "I shall carry with me at least the certainty that this evening, begun under such sad auspices, will end in domestic joy."
Madam Desmarais, overwhelmed with apprehensions of her brother"s fate, could only reply sadly as she returned the bow, "I thank you, monsieur, for your good wishes."
"Till to-morrow, dear colleague," said the lawyer, going with Billaud-Varenne as far as the door of the parlor; and then he added in an undertone, "If, as I have no doubt, John Lebrenn marries my daughter, would it not be timely to mention the marriage in the journal of our friend Marat?"
"I promise you, colleague, to speak of it to Marat; he will consider the matter," responded Billaud-Varenne with a touch of irony; and he muttered to himself: "Affectation again. This bidding for popularity once more arouses my suspicions."
"Citizens," said the lawyer to the two agents of the Section commissioner posted outside the door, "you may withdraw. Fraternal greetings." And addressing Billaud-Varenne, he repeated: "Till to-morrow, dear colleague."
"Till to-morrow!" returned the latter. "I shall go at once to the Temple, and within the hour, John Lebrenn shall have your letter." After which the member of the National Convention once more added, to himself:
"Positively, I think Marat must keep his eye on Desmarais; he seems to me a hypocrite who will well bear watching."