• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“In front of you as in front of anyone who’ll listen, Dixmer; and I’ll add this: she may perhaps perish on the same scaffold as her husband, but I’m not among those who are frightened of a woman, and I will always respect whoever is weaker than I am.”

“And the Queen,” Geneviève timidly asked, “has she at times shown you, Monsieur Maurice, that she was sensitive to this tact, to which she is far from accustomed?”

“The prisoner has thanked me several times for my consideration for her, madame.”

“Then she must see your tour of duty come around with pleasure?”

“I think so,” said Maurice.

“Then,” said Morand, trembling like a girl, “since you’re admitting what no one admits anymore these days—that is, to having a generous heart—you don’t persecute children, either, I suppose?”

“Me?” said Maurice. “Ask that scoundrel Simon what it’s like to be on the receiving end of the fist of a municipal officer in whose presence he’s had the audacity to beat little Capet.”

This response sent a spontaneous ripple around Dixmer’s table. The whole company rose respectfully, Maurice alone remaining seated, without having any idea that he had caused such an outburst of admiration.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, baffled.

“I thought someone was calling from the workshop,” said Dixmer.

“No, no,” said Geneviève. “I thought so too at first, but we’re mistaken.”

And everyone resumed their seats.

“Ah! So it’s you, citizen Maurice!” said Morand with a quiver in his voice. “You’re the municipal officer everyone’s been talking about, the man who so nobly defended a child?”

“People have been talking about it?” said Maurice with almost sublime naïveté.

“Oh, there’s a noble soul for you,” said Morand, getting up from the table so as not to burst a blood vessel and withdrawing to the workshop as though some pressing project was claiming him.

“Yes, citizen,” said Dixmer, “yes, everyone’s talking about it, and I should say that anyone who has a heart and a modicum of courage has sung your praises without knowing who you are.”

“And let’s leave him anonymous,” said Geneviève, “the glory we would crown him with would be too dangerous a glory.”

And so in this odd conversation everyone, unwittingly, had said their bit about heroism, devotion, and sensitivity.

There had even been a cry of love.

17

THE MINERS

As they were leaving the table, Dixmer was informed that his notary was waiting for him in his office. He excused himself to Maurice, whom he was in the habit of quitting at this point in any case, and went to meet his legal worthy.

At issue was the purchase of a small house in the rue de la Corderie, opposite the Temple gardens. In fact it was more a position than a house Dixmer was buying, for the actual structure was falling in ruins, though he intended to have it rebuilt.

So negotiations with the owner can hardly be said to have dragged on. The very same morning, the notary had seen the vendor and negotiated a figure of 19,500 livres. He had now come to Dixmer’s to have the contract signed and get the money in exchange for the building. The vendor was to clear the house out completely that same day and the workers were to be installed the following day.

With the contract signed, Dixmer and Morand accompanied the notary to the rue de la Corderie to see the new acquisition without wasting a moment, for it had been bought sight unseen.

The house was located more or less where number twenty stands today; it was three stories high and surmounted by a mansard. The lower part had once been rented by a wine merchant and possessed magnificent cellars. These cellars were the special boast of the vendor, for they were the truly noteworthy part of the house, though Dixmer and Morand showed only mild interest in them. Yet both went down into what the owner called his underground tunnel, though seemingly only out of politeness.

Unlike most proprietors, this one had not lied: the cellars were superb; one of them extended right under the rue de la Corderie, and when you were down there you could hear carriages rolling along overhead.