Part 48 (1/2)

”It is the thought of his own death,” was the interpretation that flashed upon her.

A rap was heard.

”Come in, Dominique,” said he.

The list of inmates affixed to the front of the house would have explained Germain's disguise. It read--

”The Citizen Dominique Levesque, boarding-house keeper.

”_The Citizeness Marie Levesque, his wife._

”The Citizeness Montmorency, sempstress.”

”Citizeness Levesque” was sometimes observed about the house by the neighbours, but the family, like many others, cultivated no intercourse.

Wearing the garb only whenever absolutely necessary, he took part each day in whatever work was obtained to support the household, and at night went out to keep track of what was happening.

At the time of the guillotining of the Queen, he was restrained with difficulty from throwing his life away in an insane rush upon the murderers.

”My Lady Baroness,” Dominique said, clinging to all the old delicate form of his respect--for the faithful servitor was as chivalrous as any knight--”I regret to report that there is a new law compelling everybody to take out cards of civism, as they call them, at the Hotel de Ville.

During the trouble at our door a few moments ago, some of the _Sans-culottes_ threatened to return. I consider it absolutely necessary that Madame and I should go at once and obtain these credentials.”

”Is there no way of getting them without Madame? It looks to me dangerous,” Lecour said.

”The demand must be made in person, Monsieur le Chevalier. I have thought that question over very carefully.”

”If is the most dangerous thing yet.”

”I do not conceal the risk, Monsieur.”

”Dear Dominique,” Cyrene put in firmly, ”I am ready to do all you say.”

”Yes, our more than parent,” Lecour added in tears, ”she is ready to trust her life in your hands,” and going over to Dominique he put his arm upon his shoulder and kissed him.

The old man's lip trembled and he withdrew, and at the same time Cyrene also left the chamber to prepare for the ordeal.

Then did Germain fully realise the sharpness of dread. She whom he loved was in the direst peril. He saw the gulf which had swallowed so many others yawning for her life, and he trembled as he had never trembled before. It must be said for him that he had always valued his own life little and had been willing to risk it for another on more occasions than one. It was when not he but his heart's beloved was in such danger that his eyes were opened to the greatness of the fact of death.

Moreover he felt that he was helpless to lessen the peril. For him to accompany her to the Hotel de Ville was to make her fate absolutely certain. That charge must be left to Dominique, and--G.o.d!

G.o.d! He had not dared to think of G.o.d for years; yet now the Divine Face appeared through the dissolving vision of things mortal, and he suddenly saw it looming dim and awful as the one changeless Reality.

Her step sounded returning and he composed himself. Both tried to be brave. Both were thinking of the other's happiness.

”Have no anxieties, my dear one,” she exclaimed, coming close to him, her eyes moistened and voice trembling slightly, ”I have our good Dominique to take care of me, and we shall soon return.”

”I do not doubt it,” he replied as cheerily as he was able, bending and gently kissing her forehead. ”Prudence and Courage!--all shall go rightly.”

But at the touch of his lips she started, threw her arms around his neck and pa.s.sionately drew him to her.