Part 2 — X UNRELENTING IN DEATH

Placing Nicole in safety in the Maison Talaru, a privileged jail, of which the keeper, Schmidt, was his friend, Dossonville, picking up Le Corbeau and Sans-Chagrin, returned to the court, now packed with excited women. Forcing his way through the press, heedless of questions, he mounted the stairs, to find the room of the Marseillais black with the curious crowd, who shouted advice or sobbed hysterically as they strove forward. Raising his voice, Dossonville thundered:

"Silence!"

There was a lull, and a hasty turning of heads.

"In the name of the Nation I summon all citoyens to depart! The Nation takes possession."

Then followed a ludicrous sidling, shifting rush for the door as each, fearing to be marked for arrest, strove to depart unnoticed. All at once the long arm of Dossonville shot out and barred the way.

"Remain!"

Boudgoust fell back. Again, as Cramoisin sought to escape in the shelter of a fat woman, the prohibition rang out:

"Remain!"

Jambony next presenting himself, the arm of Dossonville again denied the way. In the room there remained at last but the wounded man, unconscious on the bed, a bundle of humanity crouching at the head, a doctor, and the three Tapedures huddling together against the wall.

From the doorway, the solemn face of Le Corbeau peered in, flanked by the mocking smirk of Sans-Chagrin. Dossonville, master of the quiet room, strode up and down in indecision, with glowing eyes fastened on the frightened three, who dared not meet the menace of his glance.

After five minutes of this torture, during which all awaited the order of arrest, Dossonville suddenly halted, extended his hand, and cried:

"Pass out!"

Sans-Chagrin, fearing to misinterpret the command, checked the foremost, asking:

"Citoyen, are we to arrest them?"

"Not now."

Confident that the menace would rid the city of the three, Dossonville turned anxiously to the doctor.

"Well, citoyen, what's your verdict?"

"Nothing to be done."

"Will he regain consciousness?"

"It is possible—probable."

Dossonville frowned.

"How long will he live?"

"Not beyond the day."

Desiring to prevent all communication with the outer world, Dossonville said, with a quick resolve:

"Then I shall be forced to establish a guard. The Citoyen Javogues is under arrest."

Turning to Sans-Chagrin, he gave orders to allow no one to enter—a command which had the desired effect of hastening the departure of the doctor. Approaching the bed, Dossonville became aware of the figure at its side, drooped over an arm of the invalid that hung down.

"Mordieu! what's this?" he cried; and placing his hand on the shoulder, he shook it.

The bundle resolved itself into the wild figure of a girl.

"Geneviève!"

At the next moment the girl, recognizing him, flew at him with a cry of hatred. Avoiding the blind rush, Dossonville caught her by the arm, crying:

"Eh, Le Corbeau, take her! Sans-Chagrin, go to his aid!"

Feeling herself overpowered, the girl became suddenly quiet, calculating, and dissimulating; but from her eyes murder looked out.

"Take her below!"

The wild light died out in the girl, who, bursting into tears, cried:

"No, no! Let me stay! Let me stay!"

"Diable! what a complication!" Dossonville thought. Then, aloud, he cried roughly: "Impossible! She must go!"

Geneviève, breaking away, clasped his knees, imploring pity.

"Let me stay, good, kind Dossonville. See, I kiss your hands. I'll be quiet. Let me stay. I love him. I adore him. Don't take me away from him now. I know he's going to die. I'll be quiet. I'll bless you."

"Stay, then!" Dossonville cried angrily. "I am a fool to do it."

The girl, released, flew to the bed and crouched down, laying her cheek against the shaggy arm, while the big eyes looked up with frightened, thankful appeal.

"Go and eat," Dossonville said, turning to Sans-Chagrin and Le Corbeau. Accompanying them to the hall, he added in a whisper: "Mingle with the crowd; convey the idea of an assault. Nicole was defending herself, you know. Return in an hour."

He shut the door, straddled a chair, and folding his arms on the back, with a glance at Geneviève, who continued motionless, entered on his vigil.

In the room the only sound was from the troubled breathing of the wounded man. The girl did not even shift her head; while on his chair Dossonville, like a statue of melancholy, waited the ebbing of life, musing at this end to their conflict, marveling the while at the strange antipathies that set men at each other's throats from their first glance.

All at once Javogues, raising himself on the bed, opened his eyes and stared at Dossonville, who matched the delirious glance with a quiet gaze. Javogues, without deviating, stared stupidly, then as suddenly fell back into apparent insensibility again; while Geneviève, dragging her body along the floor, wound her arms about the bull-neck and whispered in his ear.

Again the Marseillais rose and fastened his uncomprehending stare upon Dossonville. Suddenly, extending his hand, he cried:

"Who's that?"

Falling back, he almost immediately exclaimed:

"It's Dossonville! Ah, Dossonville! Dossonville! Spy! I have you at last!"

"He is still delirious," Dossonville muttered, drawing breath. "I thought he saw me."

"I know it by the look in his eyes!" Javogues cried from the bed. "I'll not give my hand to a spy! Boudgoust, Cramoisin, Jambony, watch him, follow him! Maillard, if he is acquitted, I swear I'll cut his throat!"

At times he was at the siege of the Tuileries, again in the court of the Abbaye, or again back in the cabaret of the Bonnet Rouge on the night of their first encounter. The flash burned itself out again and he dropped into further insensibility.

A knock was heard on the door. Dossonville, shifting slightly, said:

"Come in."

Le Corbeau and Sans-Chagrin tiptoed in and, at a sign, noiselessly took their places against the wall. Slight as was the interruption, it caught the senses of the wounded man and seemed to clear his vision. He opened his eyes and recognized the room. A moment he remained frowning; then, turning to the girl, he said with a note of tenderness:

"Ah, Geneviève!"

A sob escaped from the girl.

"What's the matter with you?" he cried, but immediately added: "Ah, I remember."

Presently he said roughly:

"Tell me, child; what is it?" Then, as the girl buried her face in the bed to choke the sobs, he answered himself: "It is death."

His eyes fixed themselves on the foot of the bed, and a great breath passed through his body. Presently a movement of Sans-Chagrin's crossed his vision, and he raised his glance to Dossonville.

"You are here to see there's no slip," he said scornfully.

"Javogues," Dossonville said impulsively, "I bear you no hatred."

"But I do!" Javogues cried fiercely. "I have never compromised with you. I'll not do it now." Turning to Geneviève, he regarded her a moment, and then said softly: "Kiss me, mignonne; I know you love me." For a moment pain checked his breathing. "Take my hand. That's it. Don't let go of it."

"Javogues, as a mere formality," Dossonville broke in, "do you wish a priest?"

"A priest! Yes, a priest!" Javogues cried, with a laugh of scorn. "Spy, you would make me out a hypocrite!"

"Man, have you no terror of God?"

"There is no God!" With the cry, the Javogues of the mob rose up, carrying Geneviève to her feet.

"Have you no doubts?"

"Bah!"

"And if there be a God?"

"And if there be a God, I do not fear him!" he cried; and in the Titan the unconquerable revolt of the Jacobin flamed out. "If there be a God, he shall answer to me for what he has done! In the name of the slave and the harlot, I'll accuse him; in the name of the galleys and the prison, in the name of those who grind out their lives with the labor of beasts, in the name of the famished and the leper, in the name of those who groan under kings and aristocrats, in the name of the poor, who fight for breath, for food, for sleep—in the name of all misery, I'll accuse him! If there be a God, he shall answer that!"

The effort exhausted him; he collapsed. The listeners, struck with terror at the audacity of the atheist, composed themselves with long breaths.

Dossonville transferred his glance to Geneviève bending over the hand she never quitted. A half-hour passed without a movement from the girl. It began to grow dark, and on the quieter air the sound of voices reached them.

Suddenly Dossonville, waiting patiently, saw the girl raise her head and begin to rub the hand she held. Then she stopped, sank back, and pressed the hand against her heart.

Presently she raised her head and gazed in perplexity at Javogues. She half rose, and dragging her body forward, seized the head between her hands, calling anxiously:

"Javogues, Javogues!"

Almost immediately she recoiled, bounding to her feet, her hands to her temples, staring aghast, while the cry was torn from her heart:

"He's dead!"

With a scream she rushed past them out of the room, and fled down-stairs. Dossonville, approaching the bed, looked down upon the body that was Javogues's. He looked and looked, forgetting all else, until Sans-Chagrin impatiently touched his arm. Then, with a start, he came to himself and led the way from the empty room.