Les Dieux ont soif. English

by Anatole France

  VIII

  It was the eve of the Festival, a calm, bright evening, and Elodiehanging on Evariste's arm, was strolling with him about the _Champ de laFederation_. Workmen were hastily completing their task of erectingcolumns, statues, temples, a "mountain," an altar of the Fatherland.Huge symbolic figures, Hercules (representing the people) brandishinghis club, Nature suckling the Universe from her inexhaustible breasts,were rising at a moment's notice in the capital that, tortured by famineand fear, was listening for the dreaded sound of the Austrian cannon onthe road from Meaux. La Vendee was making good its check before Nantesby a series of startling victories. A ring of fire and flame and hatewas drawn about the great revolutionary city.

  And meantime, she was preparing a superb welcome, like the sovereignstate of a vast empire, for the deputies of the primary Assemblies whichhad accepted the Constitution. Federalism was on its knees; theRepublic, one and indivisible, would surely vanquish all its enemies.

  Waving his arm towards the thronged expanse:

  "There it was," cried Evariste, "that on the 17th July, '91, theinfamous Bailly ordered the people to be shot down at the foot of thealtar of the fatherland. Passavant, the grenadier, who witnessed themassacre, returned to his house, tore his coat from his back and cried:'I have sworn to die with Liberty; Liberty is no more, and I fulfil myoath,'--and blew out his brains."

  All this time artists and peaceful citizens were examining thepreparations for the festival, their faces showing as joyless a joy inlife as their lives were dull and joyless; to their minds the mightiestevents shrank into insignificance and grew as insipid as they werethemselves. Couple by couple they went, carrying in their arms orholding by the hand or letting them run on in front children asunprepossessing as their parents and promising to grow up no whithappier, who in due course would give birth to children of their own aspoor in spirit and looks as they. Yet now and again a young girl wouldpass, tall and fair and desirable, rousing in young men a not ignoblepassion to possess, and in the old regret for the bliss they had missed.

  Near the _Ecole Militaire_ Evariste pointed out to his companion theEgyptian statues designed by David on Roman models of the age ofAugustus, and they overheard a Parisian, an old man with powdered hair,ejaculate to himself:

  "Egad! you might think yourself on the banks of the Nile!"

  It was three days since Elodie had seen her lover, and serious eventshad befallen meantime at the _Amour peintre_. The _citoyen_ Blaise hadbeen denounced to the Committee of General Security for fraudulentdealings in the matter of supplies to the armies. Fortunately forhimself, the print-dealer was well known in his Section; the Committeeof Surveillance of the _Section des Piques_ had stood guarantee of hispatriotism with the general committee and had completely justified hisconduct.

  This alarming incident Elodie now recounted in trembling accents,concluding:

  "We are quiet now, but the alarm was a hot one. A little more and myfather would have been clapped in prison. If the danger had lasted a fewhours more, I should have come to you, Evariste, to make interest forhim among your influential friends."

  Evariste vouchsafed no reply to this, but Elodie was very far fromrealizing all his silence portended.

  They went on hand in hand along the banks of the river, discoursing oftheir mutual fondness in the phrases of Julie and Saint-Preux; the goodJean-Jacques gave them the colours to paint and prank their love withal.

  The Municipality of Paris had wrought a miracle,--abundance reigned fora day in the famished city. A fair was installed on the _Place desInvalides_, beside the Seine, where hucksters in booths sold sausages,saveloys, chitterlings, hams decked with laurels, Nanterre cakes,gingerbreads, pancakes, four-pound loaves, lemonade and wine. There werestalls also for the sale of patriotic songs, cockades, tricolourribands, purses, pinchbeck watch-chains and all sorts of cheap gewgaws.Stopping before the display of a petty jeweller, Evariste selected asilver ring having a head of Marat in relief with a silk handkerchiefwound about the brows, and put it on Elodie's finger.

  * * * * *

  The same evening Gamelin proceeded to the Rue de l'Arbre-Sec to call onthe _citoyenne_ Rochemaure, who had sent for him on pressing business.She received him in her bedchamber, reclining on a couch in a seductivedishabille.

  While the _citoyenne's_ attitude expressed a voluptuous languor,everything about her spoke of her accomplishments, her diversions, hertalents,--a harp beside an open harpsichord, a guitar on a chair, anembroidering frame with a square of satin stretched on it, ahalf-finished miniature on a table among papers and books, a bookcase indire disorder as if rifled by the hand of a fair reader as eager to knowas to feel.

  She gave him her hand to kiss, and addressed him:

  "Greeting, sir juryman!... This very day Robespierre the elder gave me aletter in your favour to be handed to the President Herman, a very wellturned letter, pretty much to this effect:

  "I bring to your notice the _citoyen_ Gamelin, commendable alike for histalents and for his patriotism. I have made it my duty to make known toyou a patriot whose principles are good and his conduct steadfast in theright line of revolution. You will not let slip the opportunity of beinguseful to a Republican.... This letter I carried there and then to thePresident Herman, who received me with an exquisite politeness andsigned your appointment on the spot. The thing is done."

  After a moment's pause:

  "_Citoyenne_," said Gamelin, "though I have not a morsel of bread togive my mother, I swear on my honour I accept the duties of a juror onlyto serve the Republic and avenge her on her foes."

  The _citoyenne_ thought this but a cold way of expressing gratitude andconsidered the sentiment high-flown. The young man was no adept, shesuspected, at graceful courtesies. But she was too great an admirer ofyouth not to excuse some little lack of polish. Gamelin was a handsomefellow, and that was merit enough in her eyes. "We will form him," shesaid to herself. So she invited him to her suppers to which she welcomedher friends every evening after the theatre.

  "You will meet at my house men of wit and talent,--Elleviou, Talma, the_citoyen_ Vigee, who turns bouts-rimes with a marvellous aptitude. The_citoyen_ Francois read us his 'Pamela' the other day, the piecerehearsing at the present moment at the _Theatre de la Nation_. Thestyle is elegant and chaste, as everything is that comes from the_citoyen_ Francois' pen. The plot is touching; it brought tears to allour eyes. It is the young _citoyenne_ Lange who is to take the part of'Pamela.'"

  "I believe it if you say so, _citoyenne_," answered Gamelin, "but the_Theatre de la Nation_ is scarcely National and it is hard on the_citoyen_ Francois that his works should be produced on the boardsdegraded by the contemptible verses of a Laya; the people has notforgotten the scandal of the _Ami des Lois_...."

  "Nay, _citoyen_ Gamelin, say what you will of Laya; he is none of myfriends."

  It was not purely out of kindness that the _citoyenne_ had employed hercredit to get Gamelin appointed to a much envied post; after what shehad done for him and what peradventure she might come to do for him inthe future, she counted on binding him closely to her interests and inthat way securing for herself a protector connected with a tribunal shemight one day or another have to reckon with; for the fact is, she wasin constant correspondence with the French provinces and foreigncountries, and at that date such a circumstance was ground enough forsuspicion.

  "Do you often go to the theatre, _citoyen_?"

  As she asked the question, Henry, the dragoon, entered the room, lookingmore charming than the youthful Bathyllus. A brace of enormous pistolswas passed through his belt.

  He kissed the fair _citoyenne's_ hand. Turning to him:

  "There stands the _citoyen_ Evariste Gamelin," she said, "for whose sakeI have spent the day at the Committee of General Security, and who is anungrateful wretch. Scold him for me."

  "Ah! _citoyenne_," cried the young soldier, "you have seen ourLegislators at the Tuileries. What an afflicting sight! Is it seemly theRepresentati
ves of a free people should sit beneath the roof of adespot? The same lustres that once shone on the plots of Capet and theorgies of Antoinette now illumine the deliberations of our law-makers.'Tis enough to make Nature shudder."

  "Pray, congratulate the _citoyen_ Gamelin," was all her answer, "he isappointed juryman on the Revolutionary Tribunal."

  "My compliments, _citoyen_!" said Henry. "I am rejoiced to see a man ofyour character invested with these functions. But, to speak truth, Ihave small confidence in this systematic justice, set up by themoderates of the Convention, in this complaisant Nemesis that isconsiderate to conspirators and merciful to traitors, that hardly daresstrike a blow at the Federalists and fears to summon _the Austrian_ tothe bar. No, it is not the Revolutionary Tribunal will save theRepublic. They are very culpable, the men who, in the desperatesituation we are in, have arrested the flowing torrent of popularjustice!"

  "Henry," interrupted the _citoyenne_ Rochemaure, "pass me that scentbottle, please...."

  On reaching home, Gamelin found his mother and old Brotteaux playing agame of piquet by the light of a smoky tallow-candle. At the moment theold woman was calling "sequence of kings" without the smallest scruple.

  When she heard her son was appointed juryman, she kissed him in atransport of triumph, thinking what an honour it was for both of themand that henceforth they would have plenty to eat every day.

  "I am proud and happy," she declared, "to be the mother of a juryman.Justice is a fine thing, and of all the most necessary; without justicethe weak would be harassed every moment of their lives. And I think youwill give right judgment, Evariste, my own boy; for from a child I havefound you just and kind-hearted in all concerns. You could never endurewrong-doing and always tried what you could to hinder violence. Youcompassionated the unfortunate and that is the finest jewel in a juror'scrown.... But tell me, Evariste, how are you dressed in your grandtribunal?"

  Gamelin informed her that the judges wore a hat with black plumes, butthat the jury had no special costume, that they were dressed in theirevery-day attire.

  "It would be better," returned the good woman, "if they wore wig andgown; it would inspire more respect. Though you are mostly dressedcarelessly, you are a handsome man and you set off your clothes; but themajority of men need some fine feathers to make them look imposing; yes,the jury should have wigs and gowns."

  The _citoyenne_ had heard say that the duties of a juror of the Tribunalcarried a salary; and she had no hesitation in asking the questionwhether the emoluments were enough to live respectably on, for ajuryman, she opined, ought to cut a good figure in the world.

  She was pleased to hear that each juror received an allowance ofeighteen livres for every sitting and that the multiplicity of crimesagainst the security of the State obliged the court to sit veryfrequently.

  Old Brotteaux gathered up the cards, rose from the table and addressingGamelin:

  "_Citoyen_," he said, "you are invested with an august and redoubtableoffice. I congratulate you on lending the light of your integrity to atribunal more trustworthy and less fallible perhaps than any other,because it searches out good and evil, not in themselves and in theiressence, but solely in relation to tangible interests and plain andobvious sentiments. You will have to determine betwixt hate and love,which is done spontaneously, not betwixt truth and falsehood, todiscriminate which is impossible for the feeble mind of man. Givingjudgment after the impulses of your heart, you will run no risk ofmistake, inasmuch as the verdict will be good provided it satisfy thepassions that are your sacred law. But, all the same, if I was yourPresident, I should imitate Bridoie, I should appeal to the arbitramentof the dice. In matters of justice it is still the surest plan."