Robert Tournay Part 42

Gaillard rose and looked for the guards who had escorted him from the Luxembourg, thankful for the brief respite he had had from the tedium of confinement.

"You are a free man, Citizen Gaillard," said the judge, waving his hand toward the open door.

"Do you mean I can leave the court room by that door?" asked Gaillard, his heart rising up in his throat.

"Certainly; I dismiss the complaint."

"Thank you, your honor," said Gaillard, stepping quickly through the doorway into the street.

"Your honor!" gasped a court attendant hurriedly appearing at the judge's desk.

"I have no time to listen to anything further now. I am off to dinner,"

said the judge snappishly.

"But does your honor know? Is your honor aware that the prisoner was a suspect from the Luxembourg, brought here by me for trial on this charge of a.s.sault, to be returned after"--

"Bring him back at once!" yelled the judge. "You idiot, why didn't you say so before?"

"But, your honor, I"--

"After him, constables; be quick, he cannot have gone fifty yards."

Half a dozen men rushed into the street and looked in all directions.

But Gaillard was not to be seen.

CHAPTER XX

UNCLE MICHELET

One April day a wave of excitement swept through the entire prison. It was repeated in every cell and whispered in every ear.

"The lion has been taken in the mes.h.!.+ The great Danton is a prisoner in the Luxembourg!"

At first Tournay could not believe the report. It seemed as if those giant arms need but to be extended to break the bonds that held them, and allow their owner to walk out into the air a free man.

Yet it was indeed true, and one day, for a few moments only, Tournay had an opportunity to see and converse with the fallen chieftain as he stood in the door of his cell, talking in a loud voice to all who were near enough to hear him.

As Danton saw Colonel Tournay he ceased speaking and held out his hand.

In his eyes there was a peculiar look which the latter understood.

"You see, it has come at last even to me," said Danton quietly.

"Ah, why did you not crush the snake before it entwined you with its coils?" asked Tournay sadly.

"I did not think he would dare do it," replied Danton. "Robespierre is rus.h.i.+ng to his ruin. What will they do without me? They are all mad."

"You should have distrusted their madness, even if you did not fear it,"

was the rejoinder.

"The end is near," answered Danton. "It is fate. Yet if I could leave my brains to Robespierre and my legs to Couthon, the Revolution might still limp along for a short time," and he laughed roughly. "Good-by, Tournay," he said in a tone of kindliness. "You are a brave man and a true Republican; such men as you might have saved the Republic, but it was not to be." He entered his cell, and Tournay never saw him again.

The next day Danton was taken to the conciergerie and to his trial, and the day following to the guillotine. The lion head was parted from the giant trunk, and the Revolution swept on.

The weeks dragged on monotonously to Colonel Tournay and St. Hilaire in the Luxembourg. The trees in the gardens beyond their prison walls had put forth their leaves, and the song of birds was borne sometimes even into the recesses of their cell.

"Why are we left to rot here in this stifling place?" exclaimed Colonel Tournay for the thousandth time. "Why are we not even called for trial?

Has Robespierre forgotten our existence?"

"Let us hope that he has," rejoined St. Hilaire. "As long as we are overlooked we shall get into no worse trouble. We are not so very uncomfortable here," and St. Hilaire sprang upon the table to put his nose out between the window bars, like a fox in a cage, to get what air there was stirring and to look at the little patch of blue sky.

Tournay smiled sadly. He envied St. Hilaire his cheerfulness and adaptability, while he felt his own spirit breaking under the long confinement.

He sat down upon the edge of the bed and wondered what had happened in the world since he had been cut off from it. His thoughts were frequently of Gaillard, and he wished he could learn something about his friend. As he was sitting thus, oppressed by the warmth of a June afternoon, the turnkey entered the cell.

"There is an old man come to see you," he said, addressing Tournay.

"Your uncle from the provinces, I believe. You may see him outside here in the corridor."

"I wonder who this visitor may be," thought Tournay as he followed the turnkey. "Had I not received word of my poor father's death two months ago I should expect to find him."

An old man stood leaning on his cane at the end of the corridor. He seemed quite feeble, and the jailer, moved to compa.s.sion by his infirmity, placed a stool for him to sit upon.

"My nephew!" exclaimed the old man in tremulous accents as Tournay made his appearance.

Apparently the old man had made some mistake. To Colonel Tournay's eyes he was an entire stranger; but being aware that the slightest suspicion aroused in the mind of the prison authorities sometimes led to very serious consequences, he determined to wait until the turnkey was out of hearing before undeceiving the mild-eyed old gentleman.

"My uncle," he answered, taking the venerable citizen by the outstretched hand, "how did your old legs manage to"--

The septuagenarian squeezed the colonel's hand until the fingers cracked.

"My old legs would have brought me here long before," said the voice of Gaillard in guarded tones, "but it took me two weeks to get this disguise!"

"Gaillard! In heaven's name can it be you?"

"'Tis I! I may have aged since we last met, my colonel, but my heart is as young as ever."

"My dear Gaillard, how did you manage to leave this prison? What are you doing? Is this not dangerous?" asked Tournay, putting the questions in rapid succession.

"Gaillard's liberty would not be worth a bra.s.s b.u.t.ton if he should come here," replied the actor, "but old Michelet has nothing to fear. I have been playing hide and seek with the police for the past fortnight. I am now living at 15 Rue des Mathurins."

Even Tournay, who knew his friend so well, started.

"It is a very long story, and I can only give you an outline of it,"

said Gaillard, seating himself on the stool and leaning heavily on his cane, while he turned his face so that he could see from one corner of his eye every motion the turnkey might make.