"Oh, my love!" said Geneviève, "the fatal moment has arrived, and I feel that my senses are leaving me!"
"There you are wrong," said the cheering voice of Lorin.
"That you are wrong is plain, you see;
For what is death but to be free?"
"Lorin!" cried Maurice, in despair.
"They are not good, are they? I have adopted your opinion since yesterday; I can only make contemptible—"
"Ah! that is the question. You are returned, unhappy man, you are returned!"
"I considered that was our agreement. But listen, as what I have to say to you will also interest the lady."
"My God! my God!"
"Allow me to speak, or I shall not have time to tell you all. I wished to go out that I might purchase a knife in the Rue de la Baullerie."
"What did you want with a knife?"
"I wished to despatch this nice Monsieur Dixmer."
Geneviève shuddered.
"Ah!" said Maurice, "I comprehend."
"I purchased it. Listen attentively to what I said to myself, and you will understand your friend has a mind[Pg 503] for logic; indeed, I begin to think I should have been a mathematician instead of a poet. Unfortunately, it is now too late. This is the way I reasoned: Monsieur Dixmer has compromised his wife; Monsieur Dixmer was present at her trial; and Monsieur Dixmer will not deprive himself of the pleasure of seeing her pass in the fatal car; especially as we accompany her. I will then look out for him among the foremost of the spectators. I will glide near him, and say, 'Good-day, Monsieur Dixmer;' and I will plunge my knife into his heart."
"Lorin!" cried Geneviève.
"Compose yourself, dear friend; Providence had arranged all. Picture to yourselves the spectators, instead of remaining stationary in front of the Palace, according to their usual custom, made a half-turn to the right, and lined the quay. 'Oh!' said I to myself, 'it is doubtless a dog drowned. Why should not Dixmer be there? Even a dog drowning will serve to pass away the time.' I approached the parapet, and beheld all along the high bank a crowd of people who, throwing their arms aloft into the air, and uttering loud exclamations, stooped down to gaze at something on the ground. I joined them, and also looked down. There was something!—Guess what it was."
"Dixmer!" said Maurice, in a gloomy tone.
"Yes. How could you guess that? Yes; it was Dixmer, killed by a ghastly wound. The unfortunate wretch had no doubt committed suicide in expiation of his guilt."
"Ah," said Maurice, with a sad smile, "do you think so?"
Geneviève let her head droop between her hands. She was too feeble to support these successive emotions.
"Yes; I thought so, from his blood-stained sword[Pg 504] being found near him; unless, indeed—he had met some one."
Maurice, without reply, availing himself of the moment when Geneviève, overpowered by emotion, did not observe him, opened his coat and displayed to Lorin his waistcoat and shirt stained with blood.
"Ah! that alters the case," said Lorin, as he held out his hand to Maurice. "Now," said he, whispering in his ear, "they have not searched me, seeing that I entered in Sanson's suite. I have still the knife, if the guillotine is too revolting to your feelings."
Maurice seized the weapon with a joyful expression.
"No," said he, "she would suffer too much," and he returned the knife to Lorin.
"You are right," said Lorin; "long live Monsieur Guillotine! Why, what is it, after all? A fillip on the neck, according to Danton. And what signifies a fillip?"
And he flung his knife in the midst of a group of the condemned, one of whom immediately seized and buried it in his breast. He was dead in an instant.
At the same moment Geneviève awoke, and uttered a piercing cry. She felt the pressure of the executioner's hand upon her shoulder.
[Pg 505]