Part 72 (1/2)

”Be sure that I shall come,” said Toulan, earnestly. ”Give me your hand, and let me thank you for your delicate act of kindness. I certainly did you a wrong, for I did not hold you capable of such a deed. I thank you, Simon, I thank you from my heart; and to-morrow morning, punctually at nine, I shall be here to receive my precious possession. Farewell till then, Simon! I have no quiet now, but must run around and see whether every thing seems as usual in the Temple, and our secret undiscovered.” He hastened away, and disappeared around the corner.

The whole day Simon was busy with his own thoughts, and engaged in arranging the furniture, with his mind clearly not on his work. In the afternoon he declared that he must go to the Temple again, because in the upper corridor he had left a chest with some utensils in it which were his.

”It seems to me, husband, you are homesick for the Temple,” said Jeanne Marie jestingly, ”and you are sad because you are no longer in the old, black walls.”

”Yes, I am homesick for the Temple,” replied Simon, ”and that is why I go there.”

But he did not take the way to the Temple, but to the city hall, and rang the bell so violently that the porter dashed to the door to open it.

”It is you, citizen,” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. ”I thought something must have happened.”

”Something has happened, and I have come to inform the Committee of Safety,” answered Simon, impetuously.

”Has it met?”

”Yes, it is in the little council-chamber. You will find an officer at the door, and can let him announce you.”

Simon strode forward and found the sentinel before the door, who asked him what his business there was.

”Go in, citizen, and announce that Simon is here, and brings important news, of great peril to the state.”

A minute later, Simon was ushered into the hall in which the Safety Committee were a.s.sembled. All those stern-faced men of the republic knew Simon as a faithful and zealous republican, upon whose devotion they could reckon, and whose fidelity was immovable.

”I am come,” said Simon, slowly, ”I am come to bring an accusation against a certain person as a conspirator against the republic, and a traitor to our liberties.”

”Who is it, and what has he done?” asked the chairman, with a cold smile.

”What has he done? He means to do something, and I mean to prevent him. He means to release the wolf's whelp from the Temple. Who knows but he may have done so already, for when I left the Temple this morning, my successor had not come, and little Capet was alone. Who is it that is able to release the boy and the two ladies? It is Toulan, the traitor, the royalist Toulan!”

”Toulan!” replied Petion, with a shrug. ”We know very well that Toulan is a traitor, and that the republic can expect only the worst from him that he can do. He was accused once, but escaped merited punishment by flight, and he has unquestionably gone to Coblentz to join the tyrant's brothers there. Our police are watchful, and have discovered not a trace of him.”

”Then allow me to put the police on his track,” said Simon, laughing. ”Be so good as to send a couple of officers to me tomorrow, and I will deliver Toulan, the traitor, into their hands.”

CHAPTER XXVIII.

TOULAN'S DEATH.

The next morning, at the stroke of nine, Toulan, in the garb of a commissioner, entered the house of the new collector at the Macon gate. Simon received him at the door, and conducted him into the sitting-room.

”You see,” said Toulan, ”that I am punctual, and I must tell you that I have been almost too impatient to wait. I hope you do not regret your promise, and that you mean to give me the n.o.ble present that you promised me.”

”Unfortunately I can not,” answered Simon, with a shrug. ”My wife insisted on giving you the hair with her own hands, and she has just gone out. You will have to wait for her, if you really are anxious to possess the hair of little Capet.”

”Yes, I am anxious to own it,” replied Toulan. ”The hair of my dear young king will be my most cherished possession, and--”

”Come, come,” interrupted Simon, ”there you exaggerate. The gold salt's-bottle, which the Austrian gave you, is a great deal dearer to you, is it not? You still have that, have you not?”

”Still have it?” cried Toulan. ”I would sooner part with my life than with this remembrancer of Marie Antoinette!”