CHAPTER VIII.-(Continued.)

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVIII, Issue 9, 25 June 1886, Page 5

CHAPTER VIII.-(Continued.)

AND bo that was the Convention 1 Tho9e sixty personages, with faces pervaded by gloom and fear occupying the lower benches ; higher up, those twenty individuals, most of them in disorderly attire, wearing their hats, and with an aspect at once coarse and arrogant, who cast looks of disdain upon the sixty colleagues scattered at their feet in the Plain ; this was the Convention, that was the Mountain ! The ragged, ill-smelling mob, swarming in the galleries, or walking about in the hall itself, filling the passages, and even seating themselves, both men and women (and, oh 1 what men and what women 1), beside the deputies ; this howling, Binging, swearing, insolent crowd — this, then, was the Convention ; this was the People ! He recovered himself quickly ; for he perceived that Robespierre had, from tbe moment of his arrival, fixed his eyes upon him over the rims of those blue spectacles which did not avail to hide the uneasy, Bharp, distrustful and inquisitorial expression of the look. A member of the Convention named Veau was reading, in the name of the Comite des Depeebes, and to the great applause of the Citizen's Venard and Triboulat, his dear colleagues, a discourse to prove that an enslaved people needed romances, but that a free people required to read the history of their own virtues. This was a noble phrase, in which the citizen orator evidently took great delight, for he repeated it several times, and, to prove his thesis, accompanied it with some little anecdotes of the worship rendered to Marat, and the sublime hatred of fanaticism evinced by the communes of Montagne-sur-Loiry and Montagne-sur-Sorgnes. After he had shown by the aid of these illustrious examples how the recital of the revolutionary virtues was destined to replace all literature, the same Veau (of Indre-et-Loire) announced, amid the combined applauso of the same Venard of Seine-et-Oise, and the same Triboulat of the Tame, that in order amply to demonstrate the uselesgnesa of romances, the Citizen Crassus (who had not yet faced the ordeal of the tribune) had commissioned him to relate how Pierre Pichard, of Dourdan, had furnished a horse, and refused the indemnity I He added that Citizeness Lecocq, of Septeuil, had laid upon the altar of the country "jewels of which women make senseless ornaments," and also that Citizen Pasquier, at Rochet-dcs-pins, had exchanged his new shoes for the old shoes of a carrier who was requisitioned for the victualling service. And so this was the Convention I La Raison was utterly confounded. He thought he must be in the midst of some strange masquerade in a theatre at a fair. The bar was thrown open. The big man in the gray blouße entered. He was a miller's man, said the orator, and could neither read nor write, but he had come to present to the Convention a clock which he had made on the decimal system, and " for which nature had supplied him with all that was needful." At last the Commandant was admitted. He was ushered to a place by the side of the President, and his name, his title, and the announcement of his mission, were received with loud applause. He began to relate, in a plain and unaffected style, and with simplicity which frequently called forth the enthusiasm of the audience, the history of the seige and the taking of Ypres. Then the grotesque masquerade vanished, every head was raised, every brow illumined. Old France, the martial, the chivalrous, awoke in these souls which had been degraded by the Terror. The speaker felt that all hearts were beating in unison with his own ; fresh applause greeted every sentence, and when tbe colours taken from the enemy were brought, and he waved them, there arose a tumult of songs, shouts, and stamping, which excited many of the sans culottes to actual heroism. Of course the incident had the touch of buffoonery with which the Revolution could never dispense under any circumstances. It was decreed that Domingo Bhould be the bearer of the colours, upon the pretext that the ci decant slave was a living symbol of hatred of despotism.

On the termination of the speech of La Raison, Robespierre gave him the official accolade and said in a whisper : " Be ever true to tbe people, and the friends of the people, and you will do well. I hare been considering yonr welfare, and I will make your fortune. Never forget this." At the close of the sitting La Raison tried to get away unperceived, but he found Emilie, Lise, and an immense crowd at the door of the Convention. The ovation that had begnu in the hall was continued, but the clamour was greater, the songs were louder, and the hero of all this was almost stifled with the popular embraces. A band of citizens, drunk with civism— La Raison recognised La Bussiere at their head— seized him, and carried him in triumph, until a group, in the midst of which was Robespierre, came by. Maximilian cast a dark glance at the band, and fixed his threatening eye upon the Commandant. Then he approached, and said, in a loud voice : " One would have to be a monster of ingratitude to forsake the cause of a people who know so well now to recompense the trifling services that are rendered them, by those who owe them their blood without any reward at all. Never forget, citizen officer, that the Tarpeian Rock is close to the Capitol. Enough of ovations, citizens. Let us not give room to the spies of Pitt, who are always about us, to say to the coalesced despots that we cannot get over our surprise at the triumph of our arms." The crowd dispersed. La Bussiere approached the Commandant. There was still in his eyes that expression of desperate resolution, which was in such striking contrast with his habitually joyous aspect. " We shall not meet again very soon, Citizen Commandant," said he in a low voice. '■ Don't forget that I have carried you in triumph. It is true that I particularly wanted Robespierre to see my phiz set in a frame of popular and patriotic faces. It is well to have it believed that one has friends among the sans culottes. Of course you fully understand that the virtuous, feeling hearted, beneficent citizen has just said to you, 'lam jealous of your triumph, as I ana of the triumph of every one besides myself. Beware in case you should ever want to get from under my thumb.' " La Bussiere went away on seeing Lise and Emilie approaching. The latter was in the highest spirits. Bleonore Duplay throughtthe Commandant very handsome, wonderfully eloquent, and eminently calculated to captivate all hearts. The recent trinmph of La Raison had sensibly augmented the ardent tenderness that had so soon succeeded to the keen sympathy with which Emilie had from the firsLregarded him. Thepjpular applause of La Raisou, by bringing hsr heart and her vanity into harmony— for both were equally passionate — had transported her with delight. She had forgotten the crowd about the doors of the Convention, and ie now surrounded them. Her unbounded admiration was revealed by her looks, and in the movemeut with which she approached La Raiaon, and eagerly laid hold of his arm. She reminded Lise of pictures she had seen of Indians seizing their booty. " Here we are at my home," said she, when they reached the Rue de Chart res. " Presently my dear father will say to you : * You are in your own house.' " La Raison, who was btill bewildered by the applause he had received, and the excitement of the scene he had passed through, found it hard to recover his composure when to these were added the unmistakable overtures of Emilie. He felt no inclination to respond to them, and they confused him, just a3 the triumphal acclamations with which he had been, saluted confused him. He was immensely relieved by the sight of Paul Crassus, who was walking up and down before the door, and who saluted the young officer with bantering smiles, and accosted the pretty Lise with exaggerated protestations of admiration. Citizen Crassus was waiting for them in a cabinet adorned with the eternal portraits of Le Peletier and Marat, prints representing Barra and Viala, the execution of the Widow Capet, Liberty driving out Fanaticism with lighted torches, and lastly by a large frame enclosing the Declaration of the Rights of Man. The centre of the mantel-shelf displayed a superb gilded guillotine in the place of the ci-devant chimney-clock. Citizen Crassus was, like his daughter, ardent and enthusiastic. But he was also very clever, for he contrived to be both a sam-culotte and a millionaire. la the latter character he was not overjoyed at the prospect of having for his son-in-law a man whose whole estate consisted of a handsome face, a noble presence, a generous disposition, and a great future. But, although he did not lack resolution, he had not ventured to oppose Robespierre, when the latter formally requested him to confer the hand of his daughter on Commandant La Raison. Besides, he was the slave of the fair E milie, and, on his daughter's infoiming him that she wished to make the fortune of a brave Republican whom she adored, he replied, with a half-serious, halfcomic grimace : " You know well that I would let you marry Domingo, if it pleased you to do so." He was also, like all demagogues, subservient to public opinion, as well as a speculator in it, and while he well knew the baseness and instability of those who greeted the Commandant with the recent acclamations, he had not escaped the infectious enthusiasm of the hour. He therefore received La Raison with a strong feeling of aversion, hidden under an appearance of cordiality. A long talk ensued. Paul related some absurd stories, and made many allusions to the laurels of Mars and the myrtles of Venus. The Commandant,n t, while studiously polite and even gracious to Emilie, did not relax hia reserve, and uttered not one word from which it could be inferred that he presented himself in the character of an aspirant to the hand of the daughter of the house. He had come to visit a citizen to whose daughter he had rendered a service. Emilie, who wag entirely absorbed in gazing at him, and who hung on his words, was not at all discouraged by his manner. " Citizen Commandant," said Crassus, when La Raison rose to take leave, "you have done my beloved daughter and her dear cousin, Lise Dubois-Joli, an inestimable Bemce. Gratitude is the virtue of

.Republicans. This house is yours. I must tell you that my beloved daughter deeply appreciates the service you did her, and — and the manner in which it was done, and as she is absolute mistress here, I think I may assure you that you will always be well received. A place at our table shall be reserved for you every day, and you shall not be permitted to absent yourself without just cause. Emilie promises herself the pleasure of doing the honors of the capital to you ; and I see no objection to this. Liberty has dawned for everybody. The chains of all are broken, those of women as well as those of negroes. We have rejected the prejudices of that fanatical, superctitious, aristocratic and feudal morality which kept young women like children, or beings of an inferior order, in the leading strings of counter-revolutionary etiquette and seigneurial good manners. My daughter Is free to go out with you as much as she pleases. If, howereT, in your visits to theatres, or the public gardens and galleries, she wishes to accept the company of her cousins, Lise and Paul, I hope that our brethren and friends will not accuse me on that account of advising my daughter to take precautions unworthy of a Republican, and of desiring to restore the prudish customs of those who were always enemies of democracy." Paul Crassus interposed at this point by declaring that the Commandant was engaged to dine with him at Verria's. Emilie begged her father not to insist upon keeping the Citizen BernardEmile to dinner. She was overwhelmed almost to fainting point by the emotions of the day, and felt an imperative need of rest. The Commandant was therefore permitted to depart, having promised to come on the morrow and succeeding days to the Rue de Chartres. When the two young men arrived at the famous restaurateur's and entered the private room which Verria reserved for sound patriots — for he did Dot want to be accused of favoring counter revolutionists and he already found it difficult to excuse the delicacy of his dishes — the young lieutenant of grenadier gendarmes said, with his hearty school-boy laugh : " By the holy guillotinette, ' magningeringon.magningeringette' (this was the refrain of a popular street song of the period), you did well to accept the invitation of Uncle Crassus, or Robespierre would have had it sent to you by Fouquier-Tinville. I don't know why— l shall try to find out — but he has taken it into his head — and this god of the Revolution is obstinate — that you shall be the happy husband of the fair Emilie. Liberty or Death!" Then the merry young fellow began to sing oue of the least vile of the songs in vogue, (To he Continued.)