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“And you’re sure that he was going to the section?”

“That’s what he told me, anyway.”

“In that case, I’ll go and catch up with him there,” said Lorin. “If we miss each other, tell him I called and that I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” said Agesilaus.

“What?”

“I can hear him on the stairs.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Indeed, almost at that same instant, the door to the stairs opened and Maurice came in. Lorin swiftly gave him the once-over and, seeing that nothing looked amiss, said, “Ah! Here you are at last! I’ve been waiting for you for two hours.”

“Well, so much the better,” said Maurice, smiling. “You would’ve had time to come up with a few good distichs and quatrains.”

“Ah! My dear Maurice,” said the improviser, “I’ve given up.”

“Distichs and quatrains?”

“That’s right.”

“Good Lord! It must be the end of the world!”

“Maurice, my friend, I am sad.”

“You, sad?”

“I am unhappy.”

“You, unhappy?”

“Yes, what do you think? I feel rotten: it’s called remorse.”

“Remorse?”

“Remorse, yes! Christ!” said Lorin. “It was you or her, my friend. There was no middle ground. You or her. You understand I didn’t hesitate—not for a second; but all the same, Artemisia is in despair, she was her friend.”

“Poor girl!”

“And since she’s the one who gave me her address …”

“You would have done a lot better to let things follow their course.”

“Oh, yes, and it’d be you right now who’d be on the block in her place. Well thought out, dear friend. To think I came to ask your advice! I thought you were better at logic than that.”

“Never mind. Ask me anyway.”

“Well then, you know? The poor girl. I wanted to do something to try and save her. I feel like a bit of a punch-up on her behalf. It seems to me that’d do me some good.”

“You are insane, Lorin,” said Maurice, shrugging his shoulders.

“Come on, what if I tried something at the Revolutionary Tribunal?”

“It’s too late, she’s been condemned.”

“I have to say it’s horrible to watch that young woman perish like this.”

“All the more horrible in that it’s my salvation that’s spelled her doom. But, after all, Lorin, we must take some consolation in the fact that she was conspiring.”

“You’re kidding! My God! Isn’t everyone conspiring these days, more or less? She just did what everyone else does. Poor woman!”

“Don’t feel too sorry for her, friend, and don’t feel sorry for her too loudly, whatever you do,” said Maurice, “for some of her taint has rubbed off on us. Believe me, we’re not so free of the accusation of complicity that it hasn’t left its mark. Today at the section I was called a Girondin by the captain of the Saint-Leu chasseurs, and just a moment ago I had to give him a jab of my sword to prove him wrong.”

“So that’s why you’re so late getting back?”

“Precisely.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you can’t control yourself when it comes to a showdown; it had to be nipped in the bud straightaway so that no one would get to hear about it. We both grabbed whoever happened to be there as our seconds and the duel was over in two passes.”

“And that scumbag called you a Girondin, you, Maurice, a true believer?”

“For pity’s sake, yes! Which goes to show you, my dear Lorin, that one more episode like that one and we’ll become unpopular. And you know what the synonym of unpopular is, in these terrible times, don’t you, Lorin: it’s suspect.”

“I know,” said Lorin. “And that word causes even the bravest to quake in their boots. Never mind.… I just hate letting poor Héloïse go to the guillotine without asking her pardon.”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

“I want you to stay here, Maurice, you have nothing to reproach yourself with in her regard. For me, you see, it’s an entirely different story; but since I can’t do anything for her anymore, I just want to put myself in her path; I want to be there, Maurice, my friend, you understand me, and if she would just give me her hand …”

“I’ll go with you, then,” said Maurice.

“No way, my friend, think about it: you are a municipal officer, you are the secretary of your section, you’ve been implicated, whereas I