it, citizeness," said Coclès, with his hoarse laugh, "I can't tell you exactly; but I think he shivers because he is cold, and that he is pale because he nearly fell over the guillotine. He wasn't acquainted with the machine, and it seems to have had quite an effect upon him. What fools children are!"
"Be quiet, you idiot!"
"Thanks, citizeness; that's my pourboire, I suppose."
"No, my friend," said Charles, drawing a little purse from his pocket and handing him a small coin, "here is your pourboire."
"Thanks, citizen," said Coclès, lifting his hat with one hand and holding out the other for the money. "The deuce! white money; so there is still some left in France? I thought that it was all done for; but now I see, as citizen Tétrell says, that that is just a report started by the aristocrats."
"Come, get along to your horses," said citizeness Teutch, "and leave us alone."
Coclès went out grumbling. Madame Teutch sat down, and, in spite of some slight opposition on the part of Charles, she took him on her knee. Although, as we have said, he was nearly fourteen years old, he did not look more than ten or eleven.
"See here, my little friend," said she, "what I am going to tell you now is for your own good. If you have any silver, you must not show it. Have it changed for paper money; paper money having a forced currency, and a gold louis being worth five hundred francs in assignats, you will not lose anything, and will not risk being suspected as an aristocrat." Then, changing the subject, she said: "How cold his hands are, the poor little fellow."
And she held his hands out to the fire, as if he had been a child.
"And now what shall we do next?" she said. "A little supper?"
"Oh, as for that, madame, no, thank you; we dined at Erstein, and I am not at all hungry. I would rather go to bed, for I don't think I can get quite warm until I am in my bed."
"Very well; then we will warm your bed; and when you are in it we will give you a good cup of—what? Milk or broth?"
"Milk, if you please."
"Milk, then. Poor child, you were only a nursling yesterday, and here you are running about alone like a grown man. Ah! these are sad times!"
And she picked Charles up as if he had been a baby indeed. Placing him in a chair she went to the keyboard to see what room she could give him.
"Let's see! 5, that's it. No! the room is too large and the window doesn't shut tight; the poor child would be cold. 9! No, that is a room with two beds. 14! That will suit him; a nice little room with a good bed hung with curtains to keep out the draughts, and a pretty little fireplace that does not smoke, with an infant Jesus over it; that will bring him good luck. Gretchen! Gretchen!"
A beautiful Alsatian, about twenty years old, dressed in the graceful costume of the country, which resembles somewhat that worn by the women of Arles, came quickly at this summons.
"What is it, mistress?" she asked in German.
"I want you to get No. 14 ready for this little cherub; choose some fine dry sheets while I go and get him some milk porridge."
Gretchen lighted a candle and started on her errand. Then citizeness Teutch returned to Charles.
"Do you understand German?" she asked.
"No, madame; but if I stay long in Strasbourg, as I expect to, I hope to learn it."
"Do you know why I gave you No. 14?"
"Yes, I heard what you were saying in your monologue."
"Goodness gracious! my monologue. What's that?"
"That, madame, is not a French word. It is derived from two Greek words—monos, which means alone, and logos, which signifies to speak."
"My dear child, do you know Greek at your age?"
"A little, madame. I have come to Strasbourg to learn more."
"You have come to Strasbourg to learn Greek?"
"Yes, with M. Euloge Schneider."
Madame Teutch shook her head.
"Oh, madame! he knows Greek as well as Demosthenes," said Charles, thinking that Madame Teutch doubted his future professor's knowledge.
"I don't say he doesn't. But I do say, that no matter how well he knows it, he won't have time to teach you."
"Why, what does he do?"
"You ask me that?"
"Certainly, I ask you."
"He cuts off heads," she said, lowering her voice.
Charles trembled. "He—cuts—off—heads?" he repeated.
"Didn't you know that he is the public prosecutor? Ah! my poor child, your father has selected a strange master for you."
The boy remained thoughtful for an instant. Then he asked: "Was it he who cut off Mother Raisin's head to-day?"
"No, that was the Propagande."
"What is the Propagande?"
"A society for the propagation of revolutionary ideas. Each one cuts off heads on his own account: Citizen Schneider as public prosecutor, Saint-Just as the people's representative, and Tétrell as the leader of the Propagande."
"One guillotine is not much for so many people," observed the boy, with a smile which was beyond his years.
"But each one has his own!"
"Surely, my father did not know that when he sent me here," murmured the boy. He reflected an instant; then, with a firmness that indicated precocious courage, he added: "Well! since I am here I shall remain." Then, passing to another train of thought, he said: "You remarked, Madame Teutch, that you had given me No. 14 because it was a small room, and the bed had curtains, and the chimney did not smoke."
"And for still another reason, my pretty boy."
"What is it?"
"Because you will find a young companion in No. 15, just a trifle older than you, whom you may be able to divert."
"Is he sad?"
"Oh! very sad. He is only fifteen, but he is already a little man. He is here on a sorrowful errand. His father, who was general-in-chief of the army of the Rhine before Pichegru, has been accused of treason. Just think, he lodged here, the poor dear man! From all that I can gather he is no more guilty than you or I; but he is a ci-devant, and you know they don't trust them. Well, as I was saying, this young man is here for the purpose of copying documents which may prove his father's innocence. He is a good son, as you see, and he works at his task from morning till night."
"Then I can help him," said Charles; "I write a good hand."
"Now,
