Les Dieux ont soif. English

by Anatole France

  XVII

  The 24 Frimaire, at ten in the forenoon, under a clear bright sun thatwas melting the ice formed in the night, the _citoyens_ Guenot andDelourmel, delegates of the Committee of General Security, proceeded tothe Barnabites and asked to be conducted to the Committee ofSurveillance of the Section, in the Capitular hall, whose only occupantfor the moment was the _citoyen_ Beauvisage, who was piling logs on thefire. But they did not see him just at first because of his short,thickset stature.

  In a hunchback's cracked voice the _citoyen_ Beauvisage begged thedelegates to seat themselves and put himself entirely at their service.

  Guenot then asked him if he knew a _ci-devant_ Monsieur des Ilettes,residing near the Pont-Neuf.

  "It is an individual," he added, "whose arrest I am instructed toeffect,"--and he exhibited the order from the Committee of GeneralSecurity.

  Beauvisage, after racking his memory for a while, replied that he knewno individual of that name, that the suspect in question might not be aninhabitant of his Section, certain portions of the _Sections du Museum_,_de l'Unite_, _de Marat-et-Marseille_ being likewise in the nearneighbourhood of the Pont-Neuf; that, if he did live in the Section, itmust be under another name than that borne on the Committee's order;that, nevertheless, it would not be long before they laid hands on him.

  "Let's lose no time," urged Guenot. "Our vigilance was aroused in thiscase by a letter from one of the man's accomplices that was interceptedand put into the hands of the Committee a fortnight ago, but which the_citoyen_ Lacroix took action upon only yesterday evening. We areoverdone with business; denunciations flow in from every quarter in suchabundance one does not know which to attend to."

  "Denunciations," replied Beauvisage proudly, "are coming in freely, too,to the Committee of Vigilance of our Section. Some make theserevelations out of patriotism, others lured by the bait of a bank-billfor a hundred _sols_. Many children denounce their parents, whoseproperty they covet."

  "This letter," resumed Guenot, "emanates from a _ci-devant_ calledRochemaure, a woman of gallantry, at whose house they played _biribi_,and is addressed to one _citoyen_ Rauline; but is really for an _emigre_in the service of Pitt. I have brought it with me to communicate to youthe portion relating to this man des Ilettes."

  He drew the letter from his pocket.

  "It begins with copious details as to those members of the Conventionwho might, according to the woman's tale, be gained over by the offer ofa sum of money or the promise of a well-paid post under a newGovernment, more stable than the present. Then comes the followingpassage:

  _"I have just returned from a visit to Monsieur des Ilettes, who lives near the Pont-Neuf in a garret where you must be either a cat or an imp to get at him; he is reduced to earning a living by making punch-and-judies. He is a man of judgment, for which reason I report to you, sir, the main gist of his conversation. He does not believe that the existing state of things will last long. Nor does he foresee its being ended by the victory of the coalition, and events appear to justify his opinion; for, as you are aware, sir, for some time past tidings from the front have been bad. He would rather seem to believe in the revolt of the poor and the women of the humbler classes, who remain still deeply attached to their religion. He holds that the widespread alarm caused by the Revolutionary Tribunal will soon reunite all France against the Jacobins. 'This tribunal,' he said, in his joking way, 'which sentences the Queen of France and a bread-hawker, is like that William Shakespeare the English admire so much, etc....' He thinks it not impossible that Robespierre may marry Madame Royale and have himself named Protector of the Kingdom.

  "I should be grateful to you, sir, if you would transmit me the amount owing to me, that is to say one thousand pounds sterling, by the channel you are in the habit of using; but whatever you do, do not write to Monsieur Morhardt; he has lately been arrested, thrown into prison, etc., etc...."_

  "This worthy des Ilettes makes dancing-dolls, it appears," observedBeauvisage, "that is a valuable clue ... though certainly there are manypetty trades of the sort carried on in the Section."

  "That reminds me," said Delourmel, "I promised to bring home a doll formy little girl Nathalie, my youngest, who is ill with scarlatina. Thefever is not a dangerous one, but it demands careful nursing, andNathalie, a very forward child for her age, and with a very activebrain, has but delicate health."

  "I," remarked Guenot, "I have only a boy. He plays hoop withbarrel-hoops and makes little montgolfier balloons by inflating paperbags."

  "Very often," Beauvisage put in his word, "it is with articles that arenot toys at all that children like best to play. My nephew Emile, alittle chap of seven, a very intelligent child, amuses himself all daylong with little wooden bricks with which he builds houses.... Do yousnuff, _citoyens_?"--and Beauvisage held out his open snuff-box to thetwo delegates.

  "Now we must set about nabbing our rascal," said Delourmel, who had longmoustaches and great eyes that rolled in his head. "I feel quite in themood this morning for a dish of aristocrat's lights and liver, washeddown with a glass of white wine."

  Beauvisage suggested to the delegates going to the Place Dauphine to seeif his colleague Dupont senior was at his shop there; he would be sureto know this man, des Ilettes.

  So they set off in the keen morning air, accompanied by four grenadiersof the Section.

  "Have you seen '_The Last Judgment of Kings_' played?" Delourmel askedhis companions; "the piece is worth seeing. The author shows you all theKings of Europe on a desert island where they have taken refuge, at thefoot of a volcano which swallows them up. It is a patriotic work."

  At the corner of the Rue du Harlay Delourmel's eye was caught by alittle cart, as brilliantly painted as a reliquary, which an old womanwas pushing, wearing over her coif a hat of waxed cloth.

  "What is that old woman selling?" he asked.

  The old dame answered for herself:

  "Look, gentlemen, make your choice. I have beads and rosaries, crosses,St. Anthonys, holy cerecloths, St. Veronica handkerchiefs, _Ecce homos_,_Agnus Deis_, hunting-horns and rings of St. Hubert, and articles ofdevotion of every sort and kind."

  "Why, it is the very arsenal of fanaticism!" cried Delourmel inhorror,--and he proceeded to a summary examination of the poor woman,who made the same answer to every question:

  "My son, it's forty years I have been selling articles of devotion."

  Another Delegate of the Committee of General Security, noticing ablue-coated National Guard passing, directed him to convey theastonished old woman to the Conciergerie.

  The _citoyen_ Beauvisage pointed out to Delourmel that it would havebeen more in the competence of the Committee of Surveillance to arrestthe woman and bring her before the Section; that in any case, one neverknew nowadays what attitude to take up towards the old religion so as toact up to the views of the Government, and whether it was best to alloweverything or forbid everything.

  On nearing the joiner's shop, the delegates and the commissary couldhear angry shouts mingling with the hissing of the saw and the grindingof the plane. A quarrel had broken out between the joiner, Dupontsenior, and his neighbour Remacle, the porter, because of the_citoyenne_ Remacle, whom an irresistible attraction was for everdrawing into the recesses of the workshop, whence she would return tothe porter's lodge all covered with shavings and saw-dust. The injuredporter bestowed a kick on Mouton, the carpenter's dog, which at thatvery moment his own little daughter Josephine was nursing lovingly inher arms. Josephine was furious and burst into a torrent of imprecationsagainst her father, while the carpenter shouted in a voice ofexasperation:

  "Wretch! I tell you you shall not beat my dog."

  "And I," retorted the porter brandishing his broom, "I tell you youshall _not_...."

  He did not finish the sentence; the joiner's plane had hurtled closepast his head.

  The instant he caught sight of the _citoyen_ Beauvisage and thea
ttendant delegates, he rushed up to him and cried:

  "_Citoyen_ Commissary you are my witness, this villain has just tried tomurder me."

  The _citoyen_ Beauvisage, in his red cap, the badge of his office, putout his long arms in the attitude of a peacemaker, and addressing theporter and the joiner:

  "A hundred _sols_," he announced, "to whichever of you will inform uswhere to find a suspect, wanted by the Committee of General Security, a_ci-devant_ named des Ilettes, a maker of dancing-dolls."

  With one accord porter and carpenter designated Brotteaux's lodging, theonly quarrel now between them being who should have the assignat for ahundred _sols_ promised the informer.

  Delourmel, Guenot, and Beauvisage, followed by the four grenadiers,Remacle the porter, Dupont the carpenter, and a dozen little scamps ofthe neighbourhood filed up the stairs which shook under their tread, andfinally mounted the ladder to the attics.

  Brotteaux was in his garret busy cutting out his dancing figures, whilethe Pere Longuemare sat facing him, stringing their scattered limbs onthreads, smiling to himself to see rhythm and harmony thus growing underhis fingers.

  At the sound of muskets being grounded on the landing, the monk trembledin every limb, not that he was a whit less courageous than Brotteaux,who never moved a muscle, but the habit of respect for human conventionshad never disciplined him to assume an attitude of self-composure.Brotteaux gathered from the _citoyen_ Delourmel's questions the quarterfrom which the blow had come and saw too late how unwise it is toconfide in women. He obeyed the _citoyen_ Commissary's order to go withhim, first picking up his Lucretius and his three shirts.

  "The _citoyen_," he said, pointing to the Pere Longuemare, "is anassistant I have taken to help me make my marionettes. His home ishere."

  But the monk failing to produce a certificate of citizenship, was putunder arrest along with Brotteaux.

  As the procession filed past the porter's door, the _citoyenne_ Remacle,leaning on her broom, looked at her lodger with the eyes of virtuebeholding crime in the clutches of the law. Little Josephine, dainty anddisdainful, held back Mouton by his collar when the dog tried to fawn onthe friend who had often given him a lump of sugar. A gaping crowdfilled the Place de Thionville.

  At the foot of the stairs Brotteaux came face to face with a youngpeasant woman who was on the point of going up. She carried a basket onher arm full of eggs and in her hand a flat cake wrapped in a napkin. Itwas Athenais, who had come from Palaiseau to present her saviour with atoken of her gratitude. When she observed a posse of magistrates andfour grenadiers and "Monsieur Maurice" being led away a prisoner, shestopped in consternation and asked if it was really true; then shestepped up to the Commissary and said in a gentle voice:

  "You are not taking him to prison? it can't be possible.... Why! youdon't know him! God himself is not better or kinder."

  The _citoyen_ Delourmel pushed her away and beckoned to the grenadiersto come forward. Then Athenais let loose a torrent of the foulest abuse,the filthiest and most abominable invective, at the magistrates andsoldiers, who thought that all the rinsings of the Palais-Royal and theRue Fromenteau were being emptied over their devoted heads. After which,in a voice that filled the whole Place de Thionville and sent a shudderthrough the throng of curious onlookers:

  "Vive le roi! Vive le roi!" she yelled.