Barabant

“ Antoine Barabant plunged eagerly to the boulevard, where the crowd, circulating slowly, lingered from corner to corner, drifting to every knot of discussion, avaricious for every crumb of rumor. Hawkers of ballads and pamphlets sought to slip their wares into the young fellow's hand with a show of mystery and fear of detection. ”

“ A frenzy possessed the assaulting mass. It flung itself forward, without method, attacking only with its anger. The Swiss reëntered the vestibule, issuing forth from time to time to deliver a volley.
Barabant, in the midst of the swirl, lost consciousness of his acts, swayed by sudden, unreasoning passion. He fired fast and faster, caught by the infection of his comrades, cursing, exhorting wildly, laughing ”

“ Barabant cried, seizing the opening. "Why am I angry? Because you will not give me the opportunity." He drew her closer to him. "Nicole, listen to me but once."
"No, no," she checked him imperiously, "I do not wish to. You are too headlong. Barabant, I tell you, you do not know yourself."
"I—I don't know what I feel?"
She checked him again.
"If you do, then respect my wishes." She added almost pleadingly: "Not too fast, Barabant. Be reasonable and I will not avoid you again." Then peremptorily changing the subject: "Did you see Louison? She is always at an execution." ”

“ She hurried out, morbidly sensitive to the glances of the concierge, of the loiterers before the cabaret, of the bouquetières her comrades; seeing everywhere mocking glances or looks of sympathy. Despite Barabant's wish and her better judgment, she scoured his haunts with the one desire to know what he was doing. ”

“ Cramoisin cried contemptuously.
"Hark, old fellow, no airs with me," the concierge retorted sharply. "The Citoyen Barabant came here with a letter to Marat. I saw it. As for you, I know what you're after, my fine patriot,—your eyes are on the girl!"
Cramoisin, now thoroughly alarmed, sought only to retreat.
"Never in the world," he cried indignantly. "Come, mother, you mustn't wrong a fellow-patriot. I bear no hatred to Barabant. I thought him a Girondin; he is always with that cursed Goursac. But if you say he's not, I'm glad to hear it." ”

“ The girl, covering her face with her hands, yielded to her despair and fell back into the crowd; while Barabant, never flinching, fought the uproar until he forced the frantic audience to listen.
"This man," he cried at last, above the persisting clamor—"this man is guilty; he should die!" ”

“ On the 7th of Thermidor, for the fifth time, Nicole and Barabant were placed in the chariots, to be conveyed to another prison. Then Barabant, utterly tired, rebelled and said:
"At last it is too much. I want to end it. I can endure it no longer. Nicole, let me die now and be through with the suspense. We cannot escape. They are guillotining fifty a day. Next month it will be a hundred. Let us be firm and not await another month of torture."
"Then, Barabant, after all I have done," she said reproachfully, "you would send me to the guillotine?" ”

“ Barabant was amazed at the response from the audience, at their sudden movements to laughter or anger. Swayed by the infection, his lips moved involuntarily with a hundred impetuous thoughts. In this era that promised so much to youth, which demanded its ardor, its enthusiasm, and its faith, he longed to emerge from obscurity. For youth is the period of large resolutions, ardent convictions, and the championship of desperate causes. In that season, when the world is new, the mind, fascinated by its unfolding strength, leaps over decisions, doubts nothing, nor hesitates. ”

“ Barabant, who was soaring in the seventh heaven, made a superhuman effort and forced back a smile. Dossonville, much amused, tapped him on the shoulder.
"Come, it is not a crime to be pleased with one's self."
"You think it will do?" Barabant stammered.
"Splendid! And now to convince this suspicious republican." He eyed him a moment, enjoying the surprise his next words would cause. "Suppose you return with me to Santerre." ”

“ But the eyes of the young man do not look into the future. Barabant saw only—giving color to her cheeks, a glow to the eye, and a spring to the foot—that bloom which is of youth and which speaks of eagerness and impatience to embrace life.
Suddenly Nicole, seeking an interruption to this scrutiny, which, though delightful, had become embarrassing, exclaimed, "There's Louison now." ”

“ They passed into the Rue Royale, Goursac slightly in advance. Barabant, rubbing shoulders with the departing crowd, felt a pull on his arm and heard the voice of Nicole saying mischievously:
"Barabant, are you very angry with me?"
Too astonished to make answer, he remained dumbly gazing into the teasing countenance; but at that moment Goursac, perceiving them, called out indulgently:
"That's right, children; we don't live long enough for lovers to quarrel. I'll keep discreetly ahead." ”

“ Barabant, who did not intend to surrender his vantage, straddled his chair, rested his arms on the back, and, looking him magisterially in countenance, answered:
"Citoyen Dossonville, you seem to be a mystery. No one knows where to place you. You consort with patriots and traitors alike."
Dossonville, facing this accusation, appeared to reflect a moment.
"That's true. I do not hide it—from patriots." His voice gave a meaning inflection to the ending; then he added, irritably: "There are more ways than one of serving the nation. ”

“ Exchange my name for Barabant's."
"Nini," he said, watching her with covetous, blinking eyes. "I don't intend to let you go."
"If you will send me instead," she cried; "if you swear it, swear to spare him, I will give you a secret that will earn you the gratitude of Fouquier."
"You are too pretty," he said, with a smirk; "when one is as pretty as that, one is a patriot." ”

“ Goursac, preparing to wheel into a side street, called back, with a laugh of which only Nicole could guess the cost:
"Good-by, my children; I leave you in peace. Love-making is disconcerting to the older generation. Reconcile yourselves quickly."
Barabant and Nicole, thus left to themselves, continued arm in arm silently homeward, avoiding the thronged thoroughfares, the noise and the lights, plunging by preference down quiet ways where only an occasional window reddened the sides of the night. Barabant struggled to maintain his just anger ”

“ Nothing really matters, nothing is serious. But when I see such a sight as that, a whole people rising with one accord, ah, then that thrills me; yes, I am moved!"
Barabant was silent, more perplexed concerning his companion than ever, and in this reflective mood he persevered, resolving to be on his watch for artifices and tricks. About the brasserie of the famous brewer the throng was massed [Pg 60] so tightly that the two companions would have stuck thirty feet away, unable to turn, had not Santerre, from an upper window, perceived the lanky form of Dossonville. ”

“ Through the throng a score of flower-girls twisted their way, calling their patriotic cockades, nodding familiarly to Nicole, who from all sides received salutations of deputies and orators.
"You are well known," said Barabant, surprised at the range of her acquaintance.
[Pg 51]
"Pardi, I should hope so," she answered, with a proud toss of her head. "Bouquetières are useful. We go everywhere, see everything. We are the scouts of the Republic. I have influence, Barabant; I'll push you ahead," she added, with a determined nod. "Can you speak from the tribune?" ”

“ As this was not to her liking, she screened herself in the crowd, seeking Barabant. She found him soon, approaching, still immersed in his projected article and betraying his preoccupation by such scowls and sudden gestures that the passers-by would have taken him for demented [Pg 41] had not the spectacle been one familiar to their eyes.
"Ah, mon Dieu!" Nicole said to herself, "I thought I'd found a man, and he turns out a philosopher. Also, he does not seem very much occupied in looking for me!" ”

“ Dossonville threw a glance to the window, his hand going to his pistol. Then correcting himself, he said:
[Pg 135]
"So this is your trap, is it?"
"I am not a spy," Barabant disclaimed indignantly. "You have an escape by the roof; the gutter is solid; once opposite—"
"Yes, yes," Nicole added; "pass into my room, through the hall, and out!"
"You mistake me," Dossonville interrupted. "I have nothing to fear. Go to the landing. They may stop on the way."
Barabant obeyed. Dossonville, turning his back, snatched a paper from his redingote, rolled it into a ball, and tossed it into the gutter. ”

“ At the prison of the Abbaye they entered without difficulty. There the gate stood open day and night. At the desk, when the accusation had been read and the alibi announced, Dossonville extended his hand to Barabant and said:
"Thanks, citoyen. You need trouble yourself no more."
"No more!" Barabant exclaimed, in astonishment, for he had expected to testify to the meeting with Santerre. ”

“ Barabant said, seeing the change. He hesitated a moment, as though to reveal a confidence, while a smile struggled to his lips. But in the end, resisting the desire, he said evasively, "It is a measure of protection, in case of danger."
Dossonville scrutinized him sharply, and then, as though reassured by the frank visage, he said: "Very well; I'll be around to-morrow night. Try your hand at a polemic or two. Have you [Pg 29] a knack of poetry? Satires are more powerful than arguments. A laugh can trip up a colossus." ”

“ Cramoisin, since the day of his humiliation before Geneviève, had vented his spite on Barabant, seeking thus his vengeance on Nicole. Several times, in measure as the trial of the Girondins neared its end and it became evident that their condemnation was inevitable, he had sounded Javogues on the score of Barabant, only to be repulsed with decided negatives. But each defeat, by feeding fuel to his hatred, only increased his determination. ”

“ Barabant's face flushed with such a sudden delight that the other laughingly drew his arm into his and exclaimed:
"Come, I see how it is. Camille Desmoulins is only twenty-nine. It is the age for the youngsters. Only—" He stopped suddenly. "There are many degrees of Republicans nowadays. [Pg 28] Does your eloquence run in the line of our valiant radical Marat, or Danton and Desmoulins, or are we of the school of Condorcet and Roland?"
"I am Girondin," Barabant answered. ”

“ Barabant cried, finding his voice. "It is unpleasant!"
[Pg 125]
"Don't be frightened; I reserve that for my enemies. I know how to please, also."
She laughed, amused at his horror.
"And now I must get to selling my cockades. You can return with me only as far as the Seine. A companion such as you, you understand, would never do; it would not be professional."
Arranging her cockades in the basket, which she transferred to her arm, she retraced her steps.
"Ah, there's mama again," she exclaimed, as they neared the wig-maker's. "Let's see if she'll greet us more cordially." ”

“ Barabant, determined to shift the inquiry, demanded point-blank:
"What were you doing in a café of aristocrats?"
"What were you?" Dossonville retorted. "There are many ways to serve the Revolution besides proclaiming it from the tops of tables. Leave me my ways. Do you think if I were an aristocrat I'd have taken the pains to save you? Come, young man, don't turn your back on opportunities. Swallow your pride and confess that there are not many more meals in sight."
"I am but a day in Paris," Barabant answered ”

“ Come on to the cabaret."
"You'll join us, Citoyen Goursac?"
"No; I'm remaining here."
"And you, Citoyen Barabant?"
"I also."
"Morbleu, you've strange tastes!"
They shuffled away, leaving Barabant and Goursac, with their backs to the maple-tree, in possession of the empty darkness.
Presently lights began to splotch the walls, and [Pg 202] at the windows appeared the silhouettes of feminine forms, while a running comment resounded:
"Where are the men?"
"Gone to the cabaret, probably."
"They are, if my man's among them."
"They're all weak-kneed." ”

“ At one moment he pulled a long, somber face, and at the next he lapsed into laughter. As human nature cannot endure in silence the spectacle of someone laughing to himself, the girl, unable longer to restrain her interest, called to him with that melody which is natural to the voice of a maiden:
"Well, citoyen, are you going to laugh or cry?"
At her banter, Barabant started up so suddenly [Pg 32] that one of the sous which he had been regarding meditatively slipped from his fingers, bounded on the roof, rolled along the gutter, and disappeared in the water-hole. ”

“ Dossonville questioned, suspicious of her calm.
"I will do nothing to endanger his life."
"It is a promise?"
"I promise to do nothing that will endanger his life," she repeated carefully.
"She is still determined to sacrifice herself," he thought. "Mordieu! what an idea! Barabant will make her forget."
That night, toward eleven, he conducted the girl to Les Madelonnettes and restored her to Barabant. Only the lantern of the jailer lighted the sleeping halls as Nicole, with a cry, flew to her lover's arms. In their happiness they forgot their protector ”

“ She pulled a chair near the bed, loosened her hair, scattering it over her shoulders, and began to comb it out, unraveling the tangle with many grimaces and an oft-wrung "Aïe! aïe!"
Occasionally she consulted a pocket-mirror, then resumed the combing, humming to herself. Barabant, his forehead enveloped in white, his arm in a sling, lay with his head turned toward her, one arm escaping bare above the covers. [Pg 95] She regarded approvingly the lithe muscles suggested under the soft skin, and, ceasing her humming, pronounced:
"He is well made!" ”