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And men below and saints above；
For love is Heaven and Heaven is love。
The Lay of the Last Minstrel。
CHAPTER XVI
CECILE DESHAIX
In his lodgings at the corner of the Rue…St。 Honore and the Rue
de la Republique … lately changed； in the all…encompassing
metamorphosis； from 〃Rue Royale〃 sat the Deputy Caron La Boulaye
at his writing…table。
There was a flush on his face and a sparkle in the eyes that looked
pensively before him what time he gnawed the feathered end of his
quill。 In his ears still rang the acclamations that had greeted
his brilliant speech in the Assembly that day。 He was of the party
of the Mountain … as was but natural in a protege of the Seagreen
Robespierre … a party more famed for its directness of purpose than
elegance of expression； and in its ranks there was room and to spare
for such orators as he。 The season was March of '93 … a season
marked by the deadly feud raging 'twixt the Girondins and the
Mountain； and in that battle of tongues La Boulaye was covering
himself with glory and doing credit to his patron； the Incorruptible。
He was of a rhetoric not inferior to Vergniaud's … that most eloquent
Girondon … and of a quickness of wit and honesty of aim unrivalled
in the whole body of the Convention； and with these gifts he harassed
to no little purpose those smooth…tongued legislators of the Gironde；
whom Dumouriez called the Jesuits of the Revolution。 His popularity
with the men of the Mountain and with the masses of Paris was growing
daily； and the crushing reply he had that day delivered to the
charges preferred by Vergniaud was likely to increase his fame。
Well； therefore； might he sit with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes
chewing the butt of his pen and smiling to himself at the memory of
the enthusiasm of which he had been the centre a half…hour ago。
Here； indeed； was something that a man might live for； something
that a man might take pride in； and something that might console a
man for a woman's treachery。 What； indeed； could woman's love give
him that might compare with this？ Was it not more glorious far to
make himself the admired； the revered； the very idol of those stern
men； than the beloved of a simpering girl？ The latter any coxcomb
with a well…cut coat might encompass； but the former achievement
was a man's work。
And yet； for all that he reasoned thus speciously and philosophically；
there was a moment when his brow grew clouded and his eyes lost their
sparkle。 He was thinking of that night in the inn at Boisvert； when
he had knelt beside her and she had lied to him。 He was thinking of
the happiness； that for a few brief hours had been his； until he
discovered how basely she had deceived him； and for all the
full…flavour of his present elation it seemed to him that in that
other happiness which he now affected to despise by contrast； there
had dwelt a greater； a more contenting sweetness。
Would she come to Paris？ He had asked himself that question every
day of the twenty that were spent since his return。 And in the
meantime the Vicomte d'Ombreval lay in the prison of the Luxembourg
awaiting trial。 That he had not yet been arraigned he had to thank
the efforts of La Boulaye。 The young Deputy had informed Robespierre
that for reasons of his own he wished the ci…devant Vicomte； to be
kept in prison some little time； and the Incorruptible； peering at
him over his horn…rimmed spectacles； had shrugged his shoulders and
answered：
〃But certainly； cher Caron； since it is your wish。 He will be safe
in the Luxembourg。〃
He had pressed his protege for a reason； but La Boulaye had evaded
the question； promising to enlighten him later。
Since then Caron had waited； and now it was more than time that
Mademoiselle made some sign。 Or was it that neither Ombreval's
craven entreaties nor his own short message had affected her？ Was
she wholly heartless and likely to prove as faithless to the
Vicomte in his hour of need as she had proved to him？
With a toss of the head he dismissed her from his thoughts； and
dipping his quill； he began to write。
》From the street came the dull roll of beaten drums and the rhythmical
fall of marching feet。 But the sound was too common in revolutionary
Paris to arrest attention； and he wrote on； heeding it as little as
he did the gruff voice of a pastry…cook crying his wares； the
shriller call of a milkman； or the occasional rumblings of passing
vehicles。 But of a sudden one of those rumblings ceased abruptly at
his door。 He heard the rattle of hoofs and the grind of the wheel
against the pavement； and looking up； he glanced across at the ormolu
timepiece on his overmantel。 It was not yet four o'clock。
Wondering whether the visitor might be for him or for the tenant of
the floor above； he sat listening until his door opened and his
official … the euphemism of 〃servant〃 in the revolutionary lexicon
… came to announce that a woman was below； asking to see him。
Now for all that he believed himself to have become above emotions
where Mademoiselle de Bellecour was concerned； he felt his pulses
quicken at the very thought that this might be she at last。
〃What manner of woman； Brutus？〃 he asked。
〃A pretty woman； Citizen；〃 answered Brutus； with a grin。 〃It is
the Citoyenne Deshaix。〃
La Boulaye made an impatient gesture。
〃Fool。 why did you not say so；〃 he cried sharply。
〃Fool； you did not ask me；〃 answered the servant； with that touching；
fraternal frankness adopted by all true patriots。 He was a thin；
under…sized man of perhaps thirty years of age； and dressed in black；
with a decency … under La Boulaye's suasion … that was rather at
variance with his extreme democracy。 His real name was Ferdinand；
but； following a fashion prevailing among the ultra…republicans； he
had renamed himself after the famous Roman patriot。
La Boulaye toyed a moment with his pen； a frown darkening his brow。
Then：
〃Admit her；〃 he sighed wearily。
And presently she came； a pretty woman； as Brutus had declared； very
fair； and with the innocent eyes of a baby。 She was small of
stature； and by the egregious height of her plume…crowned head…dress
it would seem as if she sought by art to add to the inches she had
received from Nature。 For the rest she wore a pink petticoat； very
extravagantly beflounced； and a pink corsage cut extravagantly low。
In one hand she carried a fan … hardly as a weapon against heat；
seeing that the winter was not yet out … in the other a huge bunch
of early roses。
〃Te voile！〃 was her greeting； merrily … roguishly … delivered； and
if the Revolution had done nothing else for her； it had； at least；
enabled her to address La Boulaye by the 〃Thou〃 of intimacy which
the new vocabulary prescribed。
La Boulaye rose； laid aside his pen； and politely； if coolly；
returned her greeting and set a chair for her。
〃You are；〃 said he； 〃a very harbinger of Spring； Citoyenne； with
your flowers and your ravishing toilette。〃
〃Ah！ I please you； then； for once；〃 said she without the least
embarrassment。 〃Tell me … how do you find me？〃 And； laughing； she
turned about that he might admire her from all points of vi