Alexandre Dumas

“ It is true, she had taken the greatest pains to make herself as pretty as possible; for one instant before her glass she had forgotten war, insurrection, and carnage. The most innocent soul has its coquetry when it first begins to love.
Marceau could not utter a word, and Blanche smiled joyously, for she saw that she appeared as beautiful to him as she had desired.
In the evening the young fiancé of Marceau's sister came, and there was one house in Nantes—one only, perhaps—where all was happiness and love, surrounded, as it was, by tears and sorrow. ”

“ Marceau stared at him stupidly.
"Arrested! Blanche arrested!" he repeated continually, whilst his friend applied his gourd full of wine to the clenched teeth of the peasant.
"Alexandre," cried Marceau, "I shall return to Nantes; I must follow her, for my life, my future, my happiness, all is with her!" His teeth chattered violently, and his body trembled convulsively.
"Let him beware who has dared to put his hand on Blanche. I love her with all the strength of my soul; existence is no longer possible for me without her. Oh, fool that I was to leave her! Blanche arrested! ”

“ Marceau had repulsed her, and she had fallen on her knees beside him, and he, with his teeth clenched, strode to and fro with a bitter laugh; then he heard her sob, the tears leapt to his eyes, and he fell at her feet.
"Blanche, by all that is most sacred in the world, consent to become my wife!"
"You must, young girl," interrupted a strange voice, which made them tremble and rise together. "It is the only way to preserve your life. Religion commands you, and I am ready to bless your union." ”

“ Do you think these walls are used to vows of love?"
"This is the moment, for we are between life and death. Blanche, be quick and answer me; each instant robs us of a day, each hour, of a year. Do you love me?'
"Oh! yes, yes!" These words escaped from the young girl's heart, who, forgetting that no one could see her blushes, hid her head upon his breast.
"Well! Blanche, you must accept me at once for your husband."
The young girl trembled.
"What can be your design?"
"My motive is to tear you from death; we will see if they will send to the scaffold the wife of a Republican general." ”

“ Robespierre took a leaf of white paper.
"What was her name?"
"Why do you wish to know that?"
"It is necessary in cases of identity."
"Blanche de Beaulieu."
Robespierre let his pen fall.
"What? The daughter of the Marquis de Beaulieu, the chief of the Royalists of La Vendée. How is it that she is your wife?"
Marceau told him all.
"Young fool and madman!" he said. "Must you—" Marceau interrupted him.
"I ask from you neither insults nor abuse. I ask for her life. Will you give it me?"
"Will family ties, love's influence, never lead you to betray the Republic?" ”

“ Nantes at this time writhed under the yoke of Carrier. Its streets ran with blood, and Carrier, who was to Robespierre what the hyæna is to the tiger, and the jackal to the lion, gorged himself with the purest of this blood. No one bore a reputation more blameless than that the young general, Marceau, and no suspicion had as yet attacked his mother or sisters. ”

“ Such excess of terror in a soldier astonished Marceau; but, notwithstanding, he loosened his collar to give him air. His captive was a girl!
There was not an instant to lose. The Convention's orders were imperative; all Royalists taken with or without weapons, whatever their age or sex, must perish upon the scaffold. He placed the young girl at the foot of a tree, and ran towards the skirmish. Amongst the dead he perceived a young Republican officer, whose figure appeared to him about the same as that of his prisoner. ”

“ The wife of Marceau, the well-known Republican! the Spartan soldier! What is Carrier then doing at Nantes?"
Marceau gave him an account of the atrocities which Carrier was superintending at Nantes.
"See how I am always misunderstood," cried Robespierre, with a hoarse voice, broken by emotion. "Above all, where my eyes cannot see, nor my hand arrest. There is enough blood being spilt that we cannot avoid, and we are not at the end of it yet." ”

“ Listen to my advice; keep your reflections to yourself. If ever you fall into the hands of the Royalists they will give you no more mercy than I have done to their soldiers." And saying these words he went out.
"Blanche," said Marceau, "do you know, if that man had given one gesture, one sign, that he recognised you, I would have blown his brains out?"
"My God!" she said, hiding her face in her hands, "when I think that my father might fall into the hands of this tiger, that if he had been made a prisoner, this night, before my eyes—It is atrocious. Is there no longer pity in this world? Oh! ”

“ As they advanced thus in a circle, it seemed that the glade which formed the centre of the forest was lighted up. Still approaching, they could distinguish the glare of torches, and soon, as objects became more distinct, a strange scene burst upon their sight. ”

“ And he sat down at the table by the side of Blanche.
They were beginning to feel more at ease, when a discharge of musketry burst upon their ears. The General leapt to his feet and rushed to his arms, but Delmar stopped him.
"What noise is that?" asked Marceau.
"Oh, nothing!" replied Delmar. "Last night's prisoners being shot." Blanche uttered a cry of terror. Delmar turned slowly and looked at her.
"Here is a fine thing," he said. "If soldiers tremble like women, we shall have to dress up our women as soldiers. ”

“ He would have perceived thick volumes of smoke rising from the roofs and windows of cottages, succeeded by fierce tongues of flame, and in the crimson glare of the increasing conflagration the glitter of arms. A Republican brigade of twelve or fifteen hundred men had found the village of Saint-Crépin abandoned, and had set it in a blaze. Apart from the rest stood a cottage, which had been left untouched by the flames. At the door were stationed two sentinels. Inside, sitting at a table, was a young man, who appeared to be from twenty to twenty-two years old. ”

“ It is a pity that Nantes is so badly guarded."
Marceau trembled, turned, and recognised Tinguy, darted a glance of intelligence at him, and sprang into the carriage.
"Paris!" he called to the postillion, and the horses darted forward with the rapidity of lightning. At eight o'clock the carriage entered Paris.
Marceau and his friend separated at the square of the Palais-Egalité, and Marceau took his way alone on foot through the Rue Saint-Honoré, descended at the side of Saint-Roch, stopped at No. 366, and asked for Robespierre. He was informed that he had gone to the Théâtre de la Nation. ”