"Ah, dear mother," was John's answer, "I understand, I overlook the prejudices of which you accuse yourself. What causes them, what even often justifies them, is the faults of so many of the disinherited, unhappy ones, who, sunk in misery, in ignorance, and abandonment, have fallen prey to the fatal vices that are nearly always engendered by these conditions. So, do you know what has been my motive in wishing to succeed Master Gervais in his smithy, where a score or so of apprentices are always employed? It is to form in our shop a sort of practical school of industrious, upright, and efficient workmen, jealous of their rights as citizens, but also imbued with a sense of their public duties.

I hope to render still more fervent, still more glowing, their love for their country, and for the Republic. I wish, in a.s.sociating them with my labors, to make them a.s.sociated with the benefits thereof. I hope, in short, to watch with fatherly solicitude over my young apprentices. I shall choose orphans wherever possible, to the end of giving them a family, and bringing them up good republicans. I have not, have I, Charlotte, presumed too much upon you, in counting on your help for these poor boys?"

"Ah, count also on my co-operation, my dear John," exclaimed Madam Desmarais, her eyes filling with tears. "I now understand the grandeur, the usefulness, the holiness of the task which you impose upon yourself for the benefit of your apprentices and workmen. You seek to educate them; you charge yourself with the molding of their characters!"

Gertrude, entering at that moment, said to the young workman:

"Monsieur Desmarais knows that you are here, Monsieur Lebrenn. He asks you to wait for him. He will be in directly."

"Mother," said Charlotte sadly, "grievous as is the dissimulation, I believe there is every necessity for us not to inform father as yet of our resolve to live apart from him after my wedding."

"I am not of your opinion, my dear Charlotte," objected John, whose candidness would have suffered under the reticence. "At any rate, we have time to consider the matter. But it is necessary to decide, before Monsieur Desmarais comes in on how to convey to Monsieur Hubert the proposal I made to you, dear mother."

"Dear John," replied Madam Desmarais, "I have a secure means of communication with him. But should my letter indeed be intercepted, and your name be found in it, do you not fear to be compromised?"

"Should they seize your letter, it will not injure me in the slightest.

The attempt I make is loyal. I accept proudly the responsibility attached to it, the same as, this very morning, I took upon myself the responsibility, still more serious on the face of it, of giving an Emigrant who had sought refuge with me the means, not of escaping justice--my duty would not permit that--but of leaving our house. Thanks to me, the ex-Count of Plouernel was able, without molestation, to gain a safe retreat."

"That great seigneur who once so shamefully outraged my husband?" cried Madam Desmarais in surprise.

"Monsieur Plouernel," Charlotte asked, "the descendant of that ancient family of warrior Franks which has done so much injury to your plebeian stock?"

"Precisely. By a strange fatality, he picked a fight with me last night.

I thought I had killed him, but he was only stunned. This morning when Monsieur Plouernel had sufficiently regained his senses and strength, I conducted him to the threshold of our house. The porter, recognizing my voice, opened the street door to the Emigrant. Now let the justice of men be done; I can not denounce an enemy defeated and wounded."

At this moment advocate Desmarais stepped into the parlor, cordially tendering his hand to Lebrenn, and saying:

"Good day, my dear friend, my worthy _pupil_." Then pa.s.sing to the young artisan a paper he held in his hand, the lawyer added: "Read that aloud, my dear John."

Charlotte's betrothed read as follows:

"Citizen colleague:

"I announce to you the marriage of my daughter, Charlotte Desmarais, to Citizen John Lebrenn, the iron worker.

"The vows of the two as husband and wife will be received by the munic.i.p.al officer of the Section of the Pikes, on the day that the head of Louis Capet the tyrant falls on the scaffold.

"Fraternal greetings, "BRUTUS DESMARAIS.

"December 12, year One of the Republic one and indivisible."

"That is a copy of the circular letter I have just addressed to my colleagues of the Convention, to invite them to your wedding with my daughter. What do you say to the phrasing of my missive, and especially to the time chosen for your wedding?"

"My G.o.d!" thought Madam Desmarais with a shudder, "the fate of Louis XVI aroused my husband's pity, and still he chooses the day of that prince's execution to marry our daughter upon. What abominable hypocrisy!" And Madam Desmarais left the parlor.

"You ask me, Citizen Desmarais, what I think of your letter of invitation, and of the time set for my union with Charlotte; I reply to you, in all sincerity, that I extremely regret that you chose the day of the execution of Louis XVI for our marriage."

"And I, father, hold with John."

"I suspect you, my daughter, of being a little royalist," replied the lawyer in a bitter-sweet tone; "and as to you, my dear pupil, I did not believe it necessary to remind you that the day a King's head falls into the basket is a festive day, a day of joy for all good patriots."

"Citizen Desmarais, did I sit in the Convention I would have voted for the death of Louis XVI, as a perjurer and a conspirer against the nation. But the day when the glaive of the law strikes the last of the Kings will not be a day of joy for the Republic."

"And what will it be, then, O my pupil? A day of mourning, perhaps?"

"For good patriots there will be neither joy nor mourning, Citizen Desmarais. It will be a day of deep and sober thought. Louis XVI is not a man, but a principle, representing the oldest monarchy in Europe. In striking Louis XVI, it is royalty that is beheaded. It is not a head that will fall to the scaffold, but a crown."

"My faith, my dear pupil, you have indeed out-reasoned your master. The death of the tyrant, in fact, causes patriots more than the delirium of joy, it causes a religious meditation, as you have so aptly said. But what is done is done. I sent off my circular this morning to all our friends in the Mountain; I can not now change the date of your marriage."

"Father," said Charlotte gravely, "John and I have awaited for years the day that would consummate our hopes; we would gladly consent to postpone still further the day that is to unite us, in order not to coincide with that of the death of the King, guilty though he be."

"Enough on that subject, my daughter, time presses. You, my pupil, will come to the notary's with me, if you please, to settle the terms of your marriage contract. Thence we shall hie us to the Convention, where I shall present you to my colleagues of the Mountain as my future son-in-law."

"I would say to you, Citizen Desmarais, that I do not intend to interfere in the making of the contract; that shall be drawn up as it pleases you."

"But you must know, my dear pupil, what dowry I settle upon my daughter!"

"That is a financial question in which I am not in the slightest degree interested."

"Ah, my children," returned the lawyer, in sepulchral tones, "what regret I feel at not being able to endow you as I would wish! But I have ruined myself in patriotic gifts. Save for this house and some little properties which amount to almost nothing, there remain to me in all only 850 louis, which I share with you, my children. This dowry is very small, my dear John, after that which you hoped to secure from your father-in-law."

"The thought of a dower never presented itself to me; be convinced of that, Monsieur Desmarais."

"I believe you, my dear pupil, expecting no less of your delicacy. But, apart from the 425 louis which I leave to you, you shall be lodged here, without expense to you; for we shall never part, my dear pupil. We shall be but one single family, and we shall also find room for your sister, who has so admirably lived down her past; for I no longer see in her the mistress of Louis XV, but the worthy daughter of the proletaire. And so, my dear John, it is indeed settled that neither you nor your wife shall leave me; I count on it, absolutely; it is for our peace and mutual happiness."

Charlotte was as indifferent as John to the figure of her dowry; but knowing through her mother that the settlement originally was to have been 120,000 livres, buried in the cellar of the house, the young girl was wounded by the secret calculations of her father, who, she thought (nor was she mistaken), in dowering her so n.i.g.g.ardly expected to force John Lebrenn to take up his residence with him.

"I must thank you for your offer, Citizen Desmarais," answered John, "but I desire but one thing in the world, the hand of Charlotte. That I have obtained. All the rest is in my eyes but a bauble; it concerns me little, and troubles me not at all."

"Such delicacy does not surprise me, coming from you, my dear John. So you accept the terms of contract, as to the dowry? It is agreed?"

"Perfectly, and without objection."

"In that case, let us at once set about drawing up the marriage articles. The notary awaits us."

"Adieu, Charlotte. I shall at once see the members of the Committee of General Safety about your uncle," added John softly to his betrothed.

"Ah, if I had ever hesitated to leave my father's house," replied the young girl to her lover in like tones, "this last interview with him would have removed my scruples."

"Come, my pupil, let us go," said the lawyer, approaching the young couple. "Adieu, my daughter; tell mother that our dear John will dine here--the betrothal feast!"

"Till we meet again, father," answered the young girl, with a look of intelligence to John, who, accompanying his future father-in-law, left the house.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE KING SENTENCED.