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Zouche's name was on every lip; invitations to great houses reached him every week; his poems began to sell by thousands; yet with all this, the obstinacy of his erratic nature asserted itself as usual, undiminished, and Zouche withdrew from the shower of praise like a snail into its shell, answered none of the flattering requests for 'the pleasure of his company, and handed whatever money he made by his poems over to the funds of the Revolutionary Committee, only accepting as much out of it as would pay for his clothes, food, lodging, and drink!
As in a dream he saw the members of the Committee go up, one by one, to Sergius Thord, who, as each laid their open papers before him, declared their contents. When Paul Zouche's paper was declared he was found to have drawn Carl Perousse, whereat he smiled grimly; and retired to his seat, walking rather unsteadily.
All the men sat silent, watching the gradual softening of Zouche's drunken delirium by the mere gentle caress of the child; and Pasquin Leroy was conscious of a curious tightening of the muscles of his throat, and a straining compassion at his heart, which was more like acute sympathy with the griefs and sins of humanity than any emotion he had ever known.
Pequita laughed again, and shook back her long curls defiantly. "Who is that cold woman with a face like a mask and the crown of diamonds, that sits beside the King?" It was Zouche's turn to laugh now, and he did so with a keen sense of enjoyment.
Zouche looked full at him. "As King," he answered, "I seek nothing from you! As comrade" and his accents faltered "I would fain break bad news to you gently I would spare you as much as possible and give you time to face the blow, for I know you loved her! Lotys " The monarch's heart almost stood still. What was this hesitating tone these great tears in Zouche's eyes?
Even for his sake, and for his future, it is well that I am gone for if he ever came to know, if he were to guess even remotely, through Zouche's ravings, or some other means, the reason why Lotys killed herself, he would hate me, and with justice! He loves the People he will serve their Cause better than I!"
Their expedition fails, as naturally so wild a scheme would be bound to do, but though they cannot succeed in capturing the Pope, they secure a large following of the Italian populace, who join with them in singing "The Song of Freedom," which, with Paul Zouche's words, and Valdor's music was the great chef d'oevre of the Opera, rousing the listeners to a pitch of something like frenzy.
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