anything to do with politics in his whole life, grew impatient as the day passed without bringing him any news; but his impatience changed to uneasiness when the whole morning of the next day passed and the representa tive of the people did not send for him.
Saint-Just was not to blame, for he was one of the most scrupulous men in the world where a promise was con cerned. A grand tour of inspection had been decided upon for the next day at dawn, that he might ascertain whether the orders he had given were being carried out. He did not return to his hotel until one o'clock, and then, remem bering the promise he had given, he sent word to the prison that little Charles should be brought to him.
Saint-Just had been wet to the skin during the morning's excursion, and when the boy entered his room he was just putting the finishing touches to his fresh toilet by tying his cravat.
The cravat, as is well known, was the essential point of Saint-Just's toilet. It was a scaffolding of muslin from which rose a handsome head, and it was partially intended to conceal the immense development of the jaws, which is often noticeable in beasts of prey and in conquerors. The most remarkable feature about Saint-Just's face was his large, limpid eyes, earnest, deep, and questioning, shad owed by heavy eyebrows which met above the nose when ever he frowned in impatience or preoccupation. He had the pale complexion of that grayish tint so common to many of those laborious toilers of the Revolution, who, fearing a premature death, added nights to days in order to finish the
terrible work winch the genius that watches over the gran deur of nations, and which we dare call Providence, had intrusted to them. His lips were soft and fleshy, as befitted those of the sensual man whose first literary effort had ex pressed itself in an obscene book, but who, by a prodigious effort of will, had succeeded in dominating his temperament, and in imposing upon himself a life of continence as far as women were concerned. While adjusting his cravat, or ar ranging the silky ends of his magnificent hair, he dictated to a secretary the orders, decrees, laws, and judgments which were destined to cover the walls of the most fre quented squares, crossroads, and streets of Strasbourg, and which were posted in two languages.
In fact, so great was the sovereign, absolute, and aristo cratic power of the representatives of the people who were sent to the armies, that they thought no more of cutting off heads than of switching off the top of some wayside plant. But that which rendered the style of Saint-Just's decrees remarkable was their conciseness and the brief, sonorous, and vibrating voice in which he pronounced them. The first time that he spoke in the Convention, he demanded the king's arrest; and at the first words of the speech, cold, sharp, and cutting as steel, there was not one present who did not feel with a shudder that the king was doomed.
When his cravat was tied Saint-Just turned to put on his coat, and saw the boy who was waiting.
He looked at him, trying to remember who he was; and then, suddenly pointing to the mantel-piece, he asked: "Was it you whom they arrested yesterday morning, and who sent me a note by the landlady of your inn?"
"Yes, citizen," answered Charles; "it was I."
"Then the men who arrested you allowed you to write to me?"
' ' I wrote before I was arrested.''
"How was that?"
"I knew that I was going to be arrested."
"And you did not hide yourself?"
"What for? I was innocent, and they say that you are just."
Saint-Just looked at the boy in silence. He himself looked very young just then, with his shirt of whitest linen and large sleeves, his white waistcoat, and his artis tically tied cravat.
"Are your parents emigrants?"
"No, citizen; my parents are not aristocrats.' 7
"What are they?"
"My father presides over the tribunal of Besangon, and my uncle is commander of a battalion.''
"How old are you?"
"A little over
Saint-Just was not to blame, for he was one of the most scrupulous men in the world where a promise was con cerned. A grand tour of inspection had been decided upon for the next day at dawn, that he might ascertain whether the orders he had given were being carried out. He did not return to his hotel until one o'clock, and then, remem bering the promise he had given, he sent word to the prison that little Charles should be brought to him.
Saint-Just had been wet to the skin during the morning's excursion, and when the boy entered his room he was just putting the finishing touches to his fresh toilet by tying his cravat.
The cravat, as is well known, was the essential point of Saint-Just's toilet. It was a scaffolding of muslin from which rose a handsome head, and it was partially intended to conceal the immense development of the jaws, which is often noticeable in beasts of prey and in conquerors. The most remarkable feature about Saint-Just's face was his large, limpid eyes, earnest, deep, and questioning, shad owed by heavy eyebrows which met above the nose when ever he frowned in impatience or preoccupation. He had the pale complexion of that grayish tint so common to many of those laborious toilers of the Revolution, who, fearing a premature death, added nights to days in order to finish the
terrible work winch the genius that watches over the gran deur of nations, and which we dare call Providence, had intrusted to them. His lips were soft and fleshy, as befitted those of the sensual man whose first literary effort had ex pressed itself in an obscene book, but who, by a prodigious effort of will, had succeeded in dominating his temperament, and in imposing upon himself a life of continence as far as women were concerned. While adjusting his cravat, or ar ranging the silky ends of his magnificent hair, he dictated to a secretary the orders, decrees, laws, and judgments which were destined to cover the walls of the most fre quented squares, crossroads, and streets of Strasbourg, and which were posted in two languages.
In fact, so great was the sovereign, absolute, and aristo cratic power of the representatives of the people who were sent to the armies, that they thought no more of cutting off heads than of switching off the top of some wayside plant. But that which rendered the style of Saint-Just's decrees remarkable was their conciseness and the brief, sonorous, and vibrating voice in which he pronounced them. The first time that he spoke in the Convention, he demanded the king's arrest; and at the first words of the speech, cold, sharp, and cutting as steel, there was not one present who did not feel with a shudder that the king was doomed.
When his cravat was tied Saint-Just turned to put on his coat, and saw the boy who was waiting.
He looked at him, trying to remember who he was; and then, suddenly pointing to the mantel-piece, he asked: "Was it you whom they arrested yesterday morning, and who sent me a note by the landlady of your inn?"
"Yes, citizen," answered Charles; "it was I."
"Then the men who arrested you allowed you to write to me?"
' ' I wrote before I was arrested.''
"How was that?"
"I knew that I was going to be arrested."
"And you did not hide yourself?"
"What for? I was innocent, and they say that you are just."
Saint-Just looked at the boy in silence. He himself looked very young just then, with his shirt of whitest linen and large sleeves, his white waistcoat, and his artis tically tied cravat.
"Are your parents emigrants?"
"No, citizen; my parents are not aristocrats.' 7
"What are they?"
"My father presides over the tribunal of Besangon, and my uncle is commander of a battalion.''
"How old are you?"
"A little over
Similar Books
