Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (1760 page)

AN EPISODE IN THE HISTORY OF THE REIGN OF TERROR. About eight o’clock on the night of the 22nd of January, 1793, while the Reign of Terror was still at its height in Paris, an old woman descended the rapid eminence in that city, which terminates before the Church of St.Laurent. The snow had fallen so heavily during the whole day, that the sound of footsteps was sarcely audible. The streets were deserted ; and the fear that silence naturally inspires, was in- creased by the general terror which then assailed France. The old woman passed on her way, without perceiving a living soul in the streets ; her feeble sight preventing her from observing in the distance, by the lamp-light, several foot passengers, who flitted like shadows over the vast space of the Faubourg, through which she was proceeding. She walked on courageously through the solitude, as if her age were a talisman which could shield her from every calamity. No sooner, however, had she passed the Rue des Morts, than she thought she heard the firm and heavy footsteps of a man walking behind her. It struck her that she had not heard this sound for the first time. Trembling at the idea of being followed, she quickened her pace, in order to confirm her suspicions by the rays of light which proceeded from an adjacent shop. As soon as she had reached it, she abruptly turned her head, and perceived, through the fog, the outline of a human form. This indistinct vision was enough : she shuddered violently the moment she saw it — - doubting not that the stranger had followed her from the moment she had quitted home. But the desire to escape from a spy soon renewed her courage, and she quickened her pace, vainly thinking that, by such means, she could escape from a man necessarily much more active than herself.

After running for some minutes, she arrived at a pastry-cook’s shop — - entered — - and sank, rather than sat down, on a chair which stood before the counter. The moment she raised the latch of the door, a woman in the shop looked quickly through the windows towards the street ; and, observing the old lady, immediately opened a drawer in the counter, as if to take out something which she had to deliver to her. Not only did the gestures and expression of the young woman show her desire to be quickly relieved of the new-comer, as of a person whom it was not safe to welcome ; but she also let slip a few words of impatience at finding the drawer empty. Regardless of the old lady’s presence, she unceremoniously quitted the counter, retired to an inner apartment, and called her husband, who at once obeyed the summons.

“Where have you placed the —
 
—
 
— ? “ inquired she, with a mys- terious air, glancing towards the visitor, instead of finishing the sentence.

Although the pastrycook could only perceive the large hood of black silk, ornamented with bows of violet-coloured ribbon, which formed the old lady’s head-dress, he at once cast a significant look at his wife, as much as to say — - “ Could you think me careless enough to leave what you ask for, in such a place as the shop ! “ and then hurriedly disappeared.

Surprised at the silence and immobility of the stranger lady, the young woman approached her ; and, on beholding her face, experienced a feeling of compassion — - perhaps, we may add, a feeling of curiosity, as well.

Although the complexion of the old lady was naturally colourless, like that of one long accustomed to secret austerities, it was easy to see that a recent emotion had cast over it an additional paleness. Her head- dress was so disposed as completely to hide her hair ; and thereby to give her face an appearance of religious severity. At the time of which we write, the manners and habits of people of quality were so different from those of the lower classes, that it was easy to identify a person of distinction from outward appearance alone. Accordingly, the pastry- cook’s wife at once discovered that the strange visitor was an ex-aristo- crat — - or, as we should now express it, “ a born lady. “

“Madame ! “ she exclaimed respectfully — - forgetting, at the moment, that this, like all other titles, was now proscribed under the Republic.

The old lady made no answer, but fixed her eyes stedfastly on the shop windows, as if they disclosed some object that terrified her.

“What is the matter with you, citizen ? “ asked the pastrycook, who made his appearance at this moment, and disturbed her reverie by handing her a small pasteboard box, wrapped up in blue paper.

“Nothing, nothing, my good friends, she replied, softly. While speaking, she looked gratefully at the pastrycook ; then, observing on his head the revolutionary red cap, she abruptly exclaimed — - “ You are a Republican ! you have betrayed me ! “

The pastrycook and his wife indignantly disclaimed the imputation by a gesture. The old lady blushed as she noticed it — - perhaps, with shame, at having suspected them — - perhaps with pleasure, at finding them trustworthy.

“Pardon me, “ said she, with child-like gentleness, drawing from her pocket a louis d’or. “ There, “ she continued, “ there is the stipulated price. “

There is a poverty which the poor alone can discover. The pastry- cook and his wife felt the same conviction as they looked at each other — - it was perhaps the last louis d’or which the old lady possessed. When she offered the coin her hand trembled : she had gazed upon it with some sorrow, but with no avarice ; and yet, in giving it, she seemed to be fully aware that she was making a sacrifice. The shopkeepers, equally moved by pity and interest, began by comforting their con- sciences with civil words.

“You seem rather poorly, citizen, “ said the pastrycook.

“Would you like to take any refreshment, Madame ? “ interrupted his wife.

“We have some excellent soup, “ continued the husband.

“The cold has perhaps affected you, Madame, “ resumed the young woman ; “ pray step in, and sit and warm yourself by our fire. “

“We may be Republicans, “ observed the pastrycook ; “ but the devil is not always so black as he is painted. “

Encouraged by the kind words addressed to her by the shopkeepers, the old lady confessed that she had been followed by a strange man, and that she was afraid to return home by herself.

“Is that all ? “ replied the valiant pastrycook. “ I’ll be ready to go home with you in a minute, citizen. “

He gave the louis d’or to his wife, and then — - animated by that sort of gratitude which all tradesmen feel at receiving a large price for an article of little value — - hastened to put on his National Guard’s uniform, and soon appeared in complete military array. In the meanwhile, how- ever, his wife had found time to reflect ; and in her case, as in many others, reflection closed the open hand of charity. Apprehensive that her husband might be mixed up in some misadventure, she tried hard to detain him ; but, strong in his benevolent impulse, the honest fellow persisted in offering himself as the old lady’s escort.

“Do you imagine, Madame, that the man you are so much afraid of, is still waiting outside the shop ? “ asked the young woman.

“I feel certain of it, “ replied the lady.

“Suppose he should be a spy ! Suppose the whole affair should be a conspiracy ! Don’t go ! Get back the box we gave her. “ These words whispered to the pastrycook by his wife, had the effect of cooling his courage with extraordinary rapidity.

“I’ll just say two words to that mysterious personage outside, and relieve you of all annoyance immediately, “ said he, hastily quitting the shop.

The old lady, passive as a child, and half bewildered, reseated herself.

The pastrycook was not long before he returned. His face, which was naturally ruddy, had turned quite pale ; he was so panic-stricken, that his legs trembled under him, and his eyes rolled like the eyes of a drunken man.

“Are you trying to get our throats cut for us, you rascally aris- tocrat ? “ cried he, furiously. “ Do you think you can make me the tool of a conspiracy ? Quick ! show us your heels ! and never let us see your face again ! “

So saying, he endeavoured to snatch away the box, which the old lady had placed in her pocket. No sooner, however, had his hands touched her dress, than, preferring any perils in the street to losing the treasure for which she had just paid so large a price, she darted with the activity of youth towards the door, opened it violently, and disappeared in a moment from the eyes of the bewildered shopkeepers.

Upon gaining the street again, she walked at her utmost speed ;
 
but her strength soon failed, when she heard the spy who had so remorselessly followed her, crunching the snow under his heavy tread. She involuntarily stopped short: the man stopped short too ! At first, her terror prevented her from speaking, or looking round at him ; but it is in the nature of us all — - even of the most infirm — - to relapse into comparative calm immediately after violent agitation ; for, though our feelings may be unbounded, the organs which express them have their limits. Accordingly, the old lady, finding that she experienced no par- ticular annoyance from her imaginary persecutor, willingly tried to convince herself that he might be a secret friend, resolved at all hazards to protect her. She reconsidered the circumstances which had attended the stranger’s appearance, and soon contrived to persuade herself that his object in following her, was much more likely to be a good than an evil one.

Forgetful, therefore, of the fear with which he had inspired the pastrycook, she now went on her way with greater confidence. After a walk of half an hour, she arrived at a house situated at the corner of a street leading to the Barrière Pantin — - even at the present day, the most deserted locality in all Paris. A cold north-easterly wind whistled sharply across the few houses, or rather tenements, scattered about almost uninhabited region. The place seemed, from its utter desola- tion, the natural asylum of penury and despair.

The stranger, who still resolutely dogged the poor old lady’s steps, seemed struck with the scene on which his eyes now rested. He stopped — - erect, thoughtful, and hesitating — - his figure feebly lighted by a lamp, the uncertain rays of which scarcely penetrated the fog. Fear had quickened the old lady’s eyes. She now thought she perceived something sinister in the features of the stranger. All her former terrors returned, and she took advantage of the man’s temporary inde- cision, to steal away in the darkness towards the door of a solitary house. She pressed a spring under the latch, and disappeared with the rapidity of a phantom.

The stranger, still standing motionless, contemplated the house, which bore the same appearance of misery as the rest of the Faubourg. Built of irregular stones, and stuccoed with yellowish plaster, it seemed, from the wide cracks in the walls, as if a strong gust of wind would bring the crazy building to the ground. The roof, formed of brown tiles, long since covered with moss, was so sunk in several places that it threat- ened to give way under the weight of snow which now lay upon it. Each story had three windows, the frames of which, rotted with damp and disjointed by the heat of the sun, showed how bitterly the cold must penetrate into the apartments. The comfortless, isolated dwelling re- sembled some old tower which Time had forgotten to destroy. One faint light glimmered from the windows of the gable in which the top of the building terminated ; the remainder of the house was plunged in the deepest obscurity.

Meanwhile, the old woman ascended with some difficulty a rude and dilapidated flight of stairs, assisting herself by a rope, which supplied the place of bannisters. She knocked mysteriously at the door of one of the rooms situated on the garret-floor, was quickly let in by an old man, and then sank down feebly into a chair which he presented to her.

“Hide yourself ! Hide yourself ! “ she exclaimed. “ Seldom as we venture out, our steps have been traced ; our proceedings are known ! “

“What is the matter ? “ asked another old woman seated near the fire.

“The man whom we have seen loitering about the house since yes- terday, has followed me this evening, “ she replied.

At these words, the three inmates of the miserable abode looked on each other in silent terror. The old man was the least agitated — - per- haps for the very reason that his danger was really the greatest. When tried by heavy affliction, or threatened by bitter persecution, the first principle of a courageous man is, at all times, to contemplate calmly the sacrifice of himself for the safety of others. The expression in the faces of his two companions showed plainly, as they looked on the old man, that
he
was the sole object of their most vigilant solicitude.

“Let us not distrust the goodness of God, my sisters, “ said he, in grave, reassuring tones. “ We sang His praises even in the midst of the slaughter that raged through our Convent. If it was His good will that I should be saved from the fearful butchery committed in that holy place by the Republicans, it was no doubt to reserve me for another destiny which I must accept without a murmur. God watches over His chosen, and disposes of them as seems best to His good will. Think of yourselves, my sisters — - think not of me ! “