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are ; remember it is on Thursday next ; so do not on the

Wednesday evening commence some chemical experiment

that will occupy your time and attention for the next

twenty-four hours, as it very frequently happens."

" You may be perfectly easy on that point," said

Morand. " Besides, you can remind me."

Genevieve then rose from the table, and Maurice

followed her example. Morand was about to leave also,

and perhaps to follow them, when one of the workmen

brought the chemist a small vial containing some liquid,

which instantly engrossed all his attention.

" Let us make haste," said Maurice, drawing away

Genevieve.

" Oh ! be assured," said she, " he will remain there for an hour at the very least."

And the young woman allowed him to take her hand,

which he tenderly pressed between his own. She felt

remorse for her treachery, and compensated lor it by lier

kindness.

THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE. 163

" Do you see," said she to Maurice, crossing the garden, and showing him the carnations, which had been removed

into the air, with the hope of reviving them, "do you

see my flowers are all dead ? "

" What killed them ? n said Maurice ; " your neglect ?

Poor carnations ! "

" It was not my neglect, but your desertion, mon ami."

" They required, my little Genevie' ve, some water ; that was all ; besides, my absence should have left you plenty

of time."

" Ah ! " said Genevi^ve, " but if the flowers were watered with tears, the poor carnations, as you call them,

would they not, then, die ? n

Maurice threw his arms round Genevieve, and, drawing-

her to him, before she had time to prevent him, pressed

his lips upon the half-smiling, half-languishing eye now

fixed upon the drooping, dying flowers. Genevieve felt

so much self-reproach, it made her lenient to others.

Dixmer returned home late, and on his return found

Morand, Maurice, and Geneviere botanizing in the

garden.

CHAPTER XX.

THE FLOWEll-GTEL.

AT length the anticipated Thursday, the day of

Maurice's guard, arrived. It was now the month of June.

The sky was of a deep and cloudless blue, and against

this sheet of blue rose the heavy white mass of nine

houses. The coming of that dreadful clay was already

foreseen, represented by the ancients as thirsting with

an unquenchable thirst, and which, to borrow the phrase-

ology of the plebeian Parisians, licked the pavement very

dry. Paris was clean as a carpet, and perfumes filled the

air, mounting to the trees, emanating from the flowers

circulating and intoxicating with joy, as if to render tlio inhabitants of the capital forgetful for a few moments of

164 THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE.

that vapor of blood which rose without intermission from

the pavement of these places.

It was Maurice's duty to enter the temple at nine

o'clock ; his two colleagues were Mernvault and Agricola.

At eight o'clock he was in the Rue Vieille St. Jacques,

in a grand costume as citizen municipal ; that is to say,

in tricolored scarf tightly fastened round his tall and

elegant frame. He, as usual, rode there on horseback,

and on his route had an opportunity of receiving the

sincere approbation, admiration, and eulogiums of the

worthy patriots who saw him pass. Genevieve was already

prepared ; she wore a simple muslin dress, a species of

light taffeta .mantle, and a small bonnet, ornamented

with a tricolored cockade. Thus attired, she appeared

of dazzling beauty. Morand, who, as we have seen, had

been earnestly solicited to accompany them, had, no

doubt for fear of being mistaken for an aristocrat, attired himself in his usual costume half bourgeois, half artisan.

He entered alone, and his countenance betrayed great

fatigue ; he pretended to have been at work all night,

in order to complete some urgent business.

Dixmer had gone out immediately after the return of

his friend Morand.

" Well," demanded Genevieve, " what have you decided on, Maurice, and how are we to see the queen ? "

" Listen," said Maurice, "I have arranged everything.

I shall arrive at tlio Temple with you, and then introduce

you to my friend Louis, who commands the guard ; I then

take my post, and at a favorable moment I will come to

seek yon."

" But," demanded Morand, " when are we to see the prisoners, and how are we to see them ?"

" At either their breakfast or their dinner, if that will snit you, through the glazed partition of the municipal."

" Perfectly," said Morand.

Munrico then saw Morand approach a sideboard at tho

further end of the salle-d-manger, and drink hastily a

glass of puro wine, which rather surprised him, Morand

THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE. 165

being usually very abstemious, and indulging only in wine

and water.

Generic" ve saw that he regarded him with astonishment.

" Can you not fancy," said she, " he must be half dead with fatigue ; he has taken nothing since yesterday

morning."

" Did he not dine here ?" asked Maurice.

"No ; he was trying some experiments in the city."

Genevieve took a useless precaution, with respect to

Maurice, since, lover-like, he was an egotist, and had

merely bestowed upon the action of Morand that superfi-

cial attention which an amorous man might accord to

any one, except the woman he loves. To his glass of

wine Morand added a crust of bread, which he hastily

swallowed.

" And now," said he, " dear Citizen Maurice, I am quite ready ; when you choose we will depart."

Maurice, who was stripping the decayed petals from

one of the dead carnations he had plucked in passing,

now offered his arm to Genevieve, saying :

" Let us set out."

They went, in short, Maurice so happy he could scarcely

contain himself ; he would have uttered cries of joy had

he not restrained his emotion. "What could he desire

more ? Not only had he acquired the certainty that she

did not love Morand, but also the hope that he possessed

her affection. The glorious sun shone upon the world,

the arm of Genevieve was reposing within his own, while

the public criers, shouting at the top of their voices the

triumph of the Jacobins and the defeat of Brissotand his

companions, announced that the country was saved.

There are truly moments of life when the heart of man

seems too small to contain the joy or grief concentered

there.

" Oh ! what a, lovely day ! " exclaimed Morand.

Maurice turned round in surprise. This was the first

burst of feeling he had ever hoard issue from the lips of

this singularly reserved and absent man.

" Oh, yes, it is indeed lovely," said Geuevieve, pressing 166 THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE.

closer the arm of Maurice, " if it would only continue till evening, pure and cloudless as it is now ! "

Maurice applied this word, and his happiness redoubled

each moment. Morand at the same time regarded Gene-

vie've through his green spectacles with a peculiar ex-

pression. Perhaps he also applied her expressions.

They thus crossed Le Petit Pont, La Rue de la Janerie,

and the bridge of Notre Dame ; they then proceeded to

La Place de l'H6tel de Ville, La Rue Bur du Bee, and La

Rue St. Avoye. As they progressed, Maurice's step be-

came more and more elastic, while, on the contrary,

those of his male and female companions waxed slower and

slower. They had reached the corner of La Rue des Vieilles

Audriettes, when all at once a flower-girl impeded their

passage by offering them her basket filled with flowers.

" Oh ! what magnificent carnations ! " cried Maurice.

"Oh, yes, very beautiful!" said Genevieve ; "it seems the cultivator of these had no other preoccupation,

for they are not withered and dead."

This speech sunk deep into the heart of the young

man.

"Ah I my brave municipal/' said the flower-girl,

" purchase a bouquet for the pretty citoyenne. She is

dressed in white ; look at these superb crimson carna-

tions ; white and purple look well together ; she will

place the bouquet upon her heart, and as her heart is

near to your blue coat, there you have the national

colors."

The flower-girl was young and pretty ; her compliment

was well turned and well chosen, for had it been made

expressly for that occasion, it could not better have

applied to the circumstances. Besides, the flowers were

almost symbolical ; they were similiar to those now dead.

" 1 will purchase one," said Maurice, "since they are carnations; all other flowers I detest."

"Ah, Maurice," said Genevieve, "it is useless; we have so many of them in the garden."

But although her lips uttered the refusal, her eyes

expressed a longing desire to possess them.

THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE. 167

Maurice selected the most beautiful of the bouquets.

It was the one the pretty flower-girl had presented to

him. It consisted of twenty deep-red carnations, emit-

ting an odor at once sweet and pungent ; in the center,

towering above the rest, rose a magnificent carnation.

" Here," said Maurice, to the marchande, throwing on her basket an assignat of five livres, " that is for you."

" Thanks, my brave municipal," said the flower-girl,

"a thousand thanks."

And she went toward another couple, trusting the day

commenced thus auspiciously would continue to its close.

During this apparently simple scene, which had only

occupied a few seconds at most, Morand seemed scarcely

able to support himself, and wiped the perspiration from

his pallid brow, while Genevieve also turned pale and

trembled.

She received the nosegay which Maurice presented to

her, and clasping it in her lovely hand, held it to her

face, loss to inhale the odor than to conceal her emotion.

The remainder of the journey was pleasant, at least as

far as concerned Maurice. As for Genevieve, his gaiety

was a constraint upon her, and Morand passed his day in

a fashion peculiar to himself, that is to say, in smothered sighs or startling bursts of laughter, and occasionally

uttering some formidable witticism, which fell upon the

passers-by like sparks of fire.

At nine o'clock thay reached the Temple.

Santerre called over the municipals.

' lam hero," said Maurice, leaving Genevieve under

the care of Morand.

" Welcome," said Santerro, holding out his hand to the young man.

Maurice took care not to refuse the band tluis offered

to him. The friendship of Santerre was certainly most

valuable at this epoch. At sight of this man who had

commanded the famous rolling of drums, Genevieve

shuddered, and Morand turned pale.

" Who is this handsome citoyenne ? " demanded

terre of Maurice, " and what docs she do here ? "

168 THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE.

" She is the wife of the brave Citizen Dixmer ; yon

have heard this excellent patriot spoken of, Citizen

General ?"

" Yes, yes," replied Santerre, " the chief of a tannery, captain of chasseurs of the Legion Victor."

"The same/'

" Bon, ban ! Ma foi ! she is pretty. And this ugly

fellow, who has given her his arm ?"

" That is the Citizen Morand, her husband's partner,

and chasseur in Dixmer's company."

Santerre approached Genevieve.

" Bon jour, citoyenne," said he.

Genevieve made an effort.

" Bon jour, Citizen General," replied she, smiling.

Sauterre felt flattered by both title and smile.

" And what brings you here, belle patriots 1 " continued Santerre.

" The citoyenne," replied Maurice, " has never seen the Widow Capet, and she wishes to see her."

" Yes," said Santerre, " before " and he made an atrocious gesture.

" Precisely," replied Maurice, coldly.

" Very well," said Santerre, "only mind they are not seen entering the keep ; it would be a bad example ; besides, I confide all to you."

Santerre again shook hands with Maurice, made an in-

clination of his head to Genevieve in a friendly and pro-

tecting manner, and quitted them to attend to his other

various engagements.

After a great many evolutions of gendarmes and chas-

seurs, after some maneuvering with cannon, the dull re-

sounding of which it was considered carried to the en-

virons a salutary lesson or admonition, Maurice took

Genevieve's arm, and followed closely by Morand, ad-

vanced toward the post, at the door of which Louis was

vociferating loudly, commanding the maneuvers of his

battalion.

"J50H/" cried he, "why, there is Maurice. Peste!

with a female, too, who appears to me rather agreeable.

THE CHEVALIER DE MAISON ROUGE. 169

Does the stupid fellow wish to compare her with my

Goddess Reason ? If it were so, poor Arthemise 1 "

"Well, Citizen Adjutant," said the captain.

" Ah ! that's right ; attention," said Louis. " Files to the left left ! Bon jour, Maurice ; not so quickly "

The guns roiled, the company dispersed to their re-

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