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Updated: June 19, 2025
One evening, early in January, as he was passing the corner of the Rue Drouot, his attention was attracted by the clamour of voices, and he saw Monsieur Bargemont being roughly handled by an ill-looking gang of National Guards. "I am a better Republican than any of you," the big man was vociferating; "I have always protested against the infamies of the Empire.
Jean scrutinized the poor, pitiful face, but could recall no memory in connection with it. He opened the letter and read: "Commune of Paris General Staff. "Order to deliver to the citizen Jean Servien the portrait of Madame Bargemont. "Tudesco. "Colonel commanding the Subterranean Ways of the Commune."
The streets being once more passable, Jean saw Monsieur Bargemont come out of the Mairie. He was very red and a sleeve of his overcoat was torn away. Jean made up his mind to follow him. Along the boulevards he kept him in view at a distance, and not much caring whether he lost track of him or no; but when the Functionary turned up a cross street, the young man closed in on his quarry.
Monsieur Bargemont went down two or three steps and saw Jean stretched motionless on the landing. "A drunkard," he said; "there's so many of them! They were drunkards, those chaps who wanted to drown me." He was holding his light to Jean's ashy face, while Gabrielle, leaning over the rail, looked on: "It's not a drunken man," she said; "he is too white.
I am the friend of the Citizen Delegate in charge of the Prefecture of Police, and I say it: you shall be avenged on the infamous Bargemont! Have you read the decree concerning hostages? No? Read it then; it is an inimitable monument of the wisdom of the people. "I tear myself regretfully from your company, my young friend.
His wits came back little by little. "Young man, you have seen the soldier reposing from his labours. What question have you come to ask the veteran champion of freedom?" "About Bargemont? About that portrait?" "I know, I know. I proceeded with a dozen men to his domicile to arrest him, but he had taken to flight, the coward! I carried out a perquisition in his rooms.
He had no particular suspicion even now; a mere instinct urged him to dog the man's heels. Monsieur Bargemont wheeled to the right, into a fairly broad street, empty and badly lighted by petroleum flares that supplied the place of the gas lamps. It was the one street Jean knew better than another. He had been there so often and often!
The shape of the doors, the colour of the shop-fronts, the lettering on the sign-boards, everything about it was familiar; not a thing in it, down to the night-bell at the chemist's and druggist's, but called up memories, associations, to touch him. The footsteps of the two men echoed in the silence. Monsieur Bargemont looked round, advanced a few paces more and rang at a door.
In the salon I saw Madame Bargemont's portrait and I said: 'That lady looks as sad as Monsieur Jean Servien. They are both victims of the infamous Bargemont; I will bring them together and they shall console each other. Monsieur Servien, oblige me by tasting that cognac; it comes from the cellar of your odious rival."
After the bookbinder had seen him to his carriage: "Jean, my boy," said he, "that is Monsieur Bargemont; I have spoken to him about you and you have heard what he had to say; he is going to help you to get into the Treasury Office, where he holds a high post. You understand what he told you about the examinations; you know more about such things, praise God! than I do.
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