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Updated: May 6, 2025
The poor mother, her face as white as her coif, dropped her knitting from her trembling hands and sighed in a voice fainter than the faintest whisper: "I would not believe it, but I see it now; my boy is a monster...." As pale as she, the froth gathering on his lips, Évariste fled from the house and ran to find at Élodie's side forgetfulness, sleep, the delicious foretaste of extinction.
Fortuné Trubert laid down his pen: "Citoyen Évariste," he said, "I beg you to go to the Convention and ask them to send us orders to dig up the floor of cellars, to wash the soil and flag-stones and collect the saltpetre. It is not everything to have guns, we must have gunpowder too." A little hunchback, a pen behind his ear and a bundle of papers in his hand, entered the erstwhile sacristy.
"Eat, Évariste," she repeated at regular intervals, "eat," and on her lips the word had all the solemnity of a religious commandment. She began again with her lamentations on the dearness of provisions, and again Gamelin demanded taxation as the only remedy for these evils. But she shrilled: "There is no money left in the country. The émigrés have carried it all off with them.
Évariste Gamelin made his way into the nave; the same vaults which had heard the surpliced clerks of the Congregation of St. Paul sing the divine offices, now looked down on red-capped patriots assembled to elect the Municipal magistrates and deliberate on the affairs of the Section. The Saints had been dragged from their niches and replaced by the busts of Brutus, Jean-Jacques and Le Peltier.
Not justice, not righteousness, not even gain; but defiance: defiance to God, defiance to man, defiance to nature, defiance to reason; defiance and defiance and defiance." "He is going to tell it!" murmured Evariste to Jean. "This man," continued Père Jerome, "became a smuggler and at last a pirate in the Gulf of Mexico. Lord, lay not that sin to his charge alone! But a strange thing followed.
The instant he came within sight of the house, Évariste fixed his eyes on one of the row of windows above the shop, the one on the left hand, where there was a red carnation in a flower-pot behind a balcony of twisted ironwork. It was the window of Élodie's chamber, Jean Blaise's daughter. The print-dealer lived with his only child on the first floor of the house.
You know how angrily he used to speak of him, what names he called him." "Yes, he called him seducer," said Julie with a little hissing laugh, shrugging her shoulders. "My child, it was a mortal blow to his pride. Évariste has vowed never again to mention Monsieur de Chassagne's name, and for two years now he has not breathed one word of him or of you.
Near the École Militaire Évariste pointed out to his companion the Egyptian statues designed by David on Roman models of the age of Augustus, 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 Élodie had seen her lover, and serious events had befallen meantime at the Amour peintre.
Évariste Gamelin lived in a house on the side towards the Quai de l'Horloge, a house that dated from Henri IV and would still have preserved a not unhandsome appearance but for a mean tiled attic that had been added on to heighten the building under the last but one of the tyrants.
The most momentous events had ceased to rouse either enthusiasm or curiosity; the newspapers were left unread. Out of the seven hundred thousand inhabitants of the capital Évariste doubted if as many as three or four thousand still preserved the old Republican spirit. The same day the Twenty-one came up for trial.
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