FALSE FREEDOM.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVIII, Issue 30, 19 November 1886, Page 3

FALSE FREEDOM.

A TALE OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.

(From the French by Mrs. Cashel Hoey.)

CHAPTER XIX.- {Continued.) Dubarran, who was racking bis brain for arguments with which to combat his son's resolution, insisted on his explaining what he meant. After sonjp hesitation Bernard did explain. He was not sorry, he said, to die, in order to protest against his own extreme folly in admiring a Government whose heads were such wretches as those depicted by bis father, and who had made France what they now beheld it. As for Dubarrau it was but just that he should lose hia son. Was he not the comrade of those brutal charlaans, and had he not taken many &ons from their parents 1 Thereupon Bernard threw himself into his father's armß, and it was impossible to induce him to discuss the matter any more.

CHAPTER XX. THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL. On the next day but one Dubarran again visited his son, and this time he found bis aspect changed. He was no longer mild and resigned ; he wore a proud and joyous air, and his eyes were sparkling. So actively had Emilie Crassus carried out her threats, that Dubois and his daughter had been transferred to the Conciergerie. This was the agony stage of revolutionary death. The frantic girl had, however, failed in a portion of her purpose, that of driving her three enemies to despair. She had succeeded only in the case of the virtuous Dubois, for he had fallen into n state of prostration. Stupefied and bewildered, the magistrate of the Bonnet-Bouge Section passed all his time in affiiming his own patriotism and addressing tender reproaches to the democracy. He understood nothing, he belonged to the clasa of those who were destined never to understand anything, and to die Jacobins. It was not, however, the spectacle of the revolutionary folly of the bourgeoisie as represented by the virtuous Dubo.s that filled the •oul of Beroard-EmUe with unconcealed joy. At the far end of the

prison yard assigned to male prisoners, was a railing which divided the yard from the female quarter. Tne young officer had caught sight of Lise behind this railing, and succeeded in exchanging a few words with her.

It must be acknowledged that she hardly gave a thought to poor La Bussierc. Lise held that heroism, grandeur of character, and noble and eacre 1 love were on the side of him who preferred to die rather than smile upon another woman, and not on the nido of the poor and oh-^curely valiant personage who, scheming with the Terroribts, living like them, grimacing like them, countersigned a hundred uujust sentences of death that he might b<i able to destroy the hundred and first.

Dubarran found his son as inflexible as before, although mere gentle, indeed more loving, than he hid ever hitherto been. All hope on that Bide must be given up, and soon all bnpe on any other side.

Then there began a terrible expiation for the Commissary of Surete U6nerale ; the human imagination could hardly cjneeive any more awful punishment. He bad always loved his son and now he adored him. He had always been proud of him, and now he rated him above all living men. And this only son, so passionately beloved, he was obliged to abandon, contrary to all justice and all reason, in the very name of unjustice and unreason, at the bidding of a man whom he hated and despised. He was a member, nay, more, an important member of the Government which was about to murder his eon, and he could not save him ; although that Government was absolute, and he was master of the lives of thousands of men. It was his inexorable daily mission, in company with his colleagues, to set in motion the knife that day by day 'came nearer the neck of his only son. This time he, like all his colleagues, like all France, was caught in the merciless machinery of that Terror which they had made, and which they seemed to govern. What soould he do? Assassinate Robespierre, and thus impose a few days' fast upon the ravening maw of the unclean beast? But such a deed would doubtless lead) to a general massacre in the prisons.

At least he might leave the Comite de Surete, and cease to be any longer an accomplice of the general crimes and of one special crime. But this was impossible, quite impossible. He should risk his life, for the Revolution suffered no lukewarmness in tho devotion which it exacted. And it would be a useless and impolitic risking of his life, for thenceforth he could not avail himself of any favourable circumstance that might enablo him to save Bernard, or retard his execution for some days.

The gain of a few days would probably mean the saving of his son's life, for it was easy to see that hatred of Robespierre was growing apace with his exactions. The more the enthusiasm in his favour at the Jacobins and in the Commune grew, the more he unmasked his projects, the more openly he threatened the life of his enemies. It was evident to Dubarran that the latter, having no longer anything to gain by temporizing, would deliver battle without' delay. All the chances of success were for Maximilian ; nevertheless it was a last hope.

Dubarrau exerted his authority over Fouquier-Tioville the Public Accuser at the Revolutionary Tribunal, to have the so-called trial of Bernard and his two accomplices (thus Citizen Dubois and his daughter were styled in the act of accusation) put off from day to day.

Fouquier-Tiaville asked no better than to be of service to Dubarran. He was nou directly a creature of Robespierre, and he had more sympathy for the Comite de Surete than for the Balut Public. Maximilian and the members of the latter body were much greater people than the other commissaries. While those of the Suret6 acted towards the Public Accuser as toward a comrade, the others regarded him as a subordinate, and it ie difficult to convey an idea of the haughty insolence with which tbese adorers of the peoplo iv general treated each of tbeir subordinates in particular. Every evening when Fouquier, after having gone humbly to receive the orders of the Grand Comite, withdrew to the Pavilion Marsan to note and arrange them, he would unreservedly abuse the Bobespiernsts to Dubarran for their despotic insolence ; but he did not conceal that it was totally impossible for him to disobey Robespierre. There his head was at stake.

Moreover, he was not master, even at the tribunal. President Dumas, and Vice-president Coffinal were the slaves of the demagoguechief, and so were the juries. Dubarran was thus perfectly aware that the condemnation of his son was absolutely certain if he appeared before the Revolutionary jury, and every day the difficulty of keeping him b*ck increased. For Kobespi-nv, whose disposition was that of a peevish aud vindictive woman, m-ver forgot tor a moment the man who bad dared to wound his vanity. Besides, theie was Emihe Crassus. She hail learned with what utter disdain Bernard regarded her, and her aDger wlen she found that she, the first woman of the Republic, the fiirest, th- wealthiest, the best connected, was denpised by an insignificant officer without foitune or importance, had been succeeded by deadly hatred. This strange young woman, from whom the Revolution had removed all restraint, threw into that passion of hate the same violence that, had chaiacensed her love, and was the logical accompaniment of every feeling of hers.

Up to the end of Mesndor, however, Dubarran was able to carry his point. The relations between Robespierre and the other members of the Comite were strained.

Peace was made, or seemed to be made, between them, at the beginning of Thermidor, and then Pouquier-Tinville declared that he could not put <,ff the evil day auy longer. The pape s were sent into the Popular Commission, and returned on the 7th Thermidor, in the evening, with ail order from Saint-Just that the accused were to Bppear before the Tribunal on the next day ; once again, however, Dubarran oocained a delay, by his positive assurance to FouquierTinvilie that Robespierre would be put to deUh by Talheu that very daj.

On the Bth Thermidor, after the sitting of the Convention, and the great success of Robespierre at the Jacobins, Dumas, returning about midnight, assured the Public Accuser that before many hours

ehouH have elapsed the members of the two Committees would be arrested and ace ised, ani Robespiern proclaimed Dictator. He proceeded to order Fouquiar-Tinville, in the uame of the MahtPr, to summon the persjnal enemies of Maxiindiuu before the Tribunal. Fouquier hesitated no longer. On the morning of the 9lh Thermidor, shortly before the opening of that famous Kitting „f the Convention, which was destined to destroy the po.vjr of Robespierre, forty-s >yen accused persons took their places on the benches—" the scaffolds " they were called— of the Revolutionary Tribunal. The-ie persons were divided into two '•batches." The first comprised twenty-two men and three women besides our two fnenda Lise and Bjrn.ird.

Thiy had met at tho foo f ol the staircase which lei from the Conciergerie to the hills of the Tribunal, ao/l exchanged fond and confidential smiles. A faint blush tiuged the somewhat sunken cheek of the Little Nightingale, and the oloir flashed into the brave face of La Raison. They advanced side by aide, and were roughly driven towards the lower end of the amphitheatre by the gendarmes who escorted them.

The court was filled with an eager, curious crowl. In addition to the sams-evlottes, whose amiable and humane custom it was to attend daily at thes<) assizes of th^ Terror, a great number of the citizens of the Bonnet- llougj Section, having been informed of what was taking placa by the Revolutionary Committee of that Section, had repaired to the spot. In the first row of eager spectators were Balliere, Pigot, Requain, the two caretakers— who narrated as they limped about how they bad been ill-treated by the infamous Dubois —and old Merluchon, who boasted of having discovered the relations of the infamous Lise with Pitt. A little further off were Paul Crassus, wearing a carmagnole, and La Bussi6re with his new slave Domingo. At a window just behind the President's chair appeared the pale face and sparkling eyes of the fair Emilie. When all the accused had taken their places, a voice from among the audienceit was that of the gallant Requain — exclaimed : " Beit that rascal the migistnte is not here ! " " Tbat is true." said President Dumas. " Lot the infamoua moderate be brought in immediately. The fete is not complete with out him."

" Citizen President," said the usher, " the accused fainted at the moment when he was leaving the prison." " Yes, yes, we know all about that. If these brigands were to be believed, there is not one of them who is not racked with renurse for the ciinaes which he has committed against the majesty of the People, when he has to appear in this august sanctuary. Let the old fox be brought, however ill he may bp." A burst of apolause from the crowd followed this speech, and a few minutes afterwards two gaolers carried in the senseless form of Dubois on a stretcher.

"Heis a clever actor," said Dumas. " Prick him with tho bayonet. Again ; a little deeper." Thia active treatment was, however, ineffectual. Dubois had been so terrified tbat he had fallen into a sort of catalepsy. Dumas was furious, and evidently uncertain what to do. He turned his eyes towards the seat of the Public Accuser, with a muttered oath ; but Fouquier-Tinville, who did not care to compromise himself 'with either of the two contending parties, was reserving himself for the second " batch," and had resigned his pla^e to one of the Deputy Accuser 0 . (To be Continued,)