lion; his complexion turned ashen; he seemed to be looking for something animate or inanimate to crush.
Just then a messenger, who had recently dismounted, as could be seen from the splashes of mud flecking his garments, entered precipitately, and, approaching Saint-Just, said a few words to him in an undertone. At these words an expression of joy, mingled with doubt, flitted across the representative's face. The news which had just been brought to him was so welcome that he dared not believe it.
CHAPTER XIII
THE WEDDING OF EULOGE SCHNEIDER
Saint-Just looked the man over from head to foot, as if to make sure that he was not dealing with a madman.
"And you come, you say—" he asked.
"From your colleague Lebas."
"To tell me—"
The man lowered his voice again so that Charles could not hear what he said; as for the secretary, he had long since gone out to carry Saint-Just's decrees to the printer.
"Impossible," said the pro-consul, passing from hope to doubt; for the thing appeared incredible to him.
"Nevertheless, it is so," replied the messenger.
"But he would never dare!" said Saint-Just, setting his teeth and allowing a glance of hatred to escape his eyes.
"It is the Hussars of Death themselves who are guarding the gate and who will not allow it to be shut."
"The Kehl gate?"
"The Kehl gate."
"The very one that faces the enemy?"
"Yes, that very one."
"In spite of my formal order?"
"In spite of your formal order."
"And what reason have the Hussars of Death given for preventing that gate from being closed at three o'clock, when there is a formal order that all the gates of Strasbourg shall be shut at that hour under pain of death to him who prevents it?"
"They say that the Commissioner of the Republic is to return to the city by that gate with his betrothed."
"Euloge Schneider's betrothed? The betrothed of the Monk of Cologne?"
Saint-Just looked around him, evidently seeking Charles in the shadows which were beginning to darken the apartment.
"If you are looking for me, citizen Saint-Just, here I am," said the youth, approaching him.
"Yes, come here! Have you heard that your Greek professor is about to be married?"
Mademoiselle de Brumpt's story recurred at once to the boy's mind.
"It would take too long to tell you what I think."
"No, tell me," said Saint-Just, laughing; "we have plenty of time."
Charles related the story of the dinner at Euloge Schneider's, together with the episode of the young girl and that of the executioner. As he listened, Saint-Just's head remained motionless, but the rest of his body quivered unceasingly.
Suddenly a great hubbub was heard in one of the streets leading from the Kehl gate to the town-hall.
Doubtless Saint-Just divined the cause of this commotion, for, turning to Charles, he said: "If you would like to go, my child, you are free to do so; but if you would like to be present at a great act of justice, remain."
Charles's curiosity forbade him to go, and he remained.
The messenger went to the window and drew aside the curtain. "There," said he, "there is the proof that I was not mistaken."
"Open the window," said Saint-Just.
The messenger obeyed. The window opened upon a balcony which hung over the street. Saint-Just went out, and, at his invitation, Charles and the messenger followed him.
The clock struck. Saint-Just turned around; it was four o'clock. The procession was just entering the square.
Four couriers, dressed in the national colors, preceded the carriage, which was drawn by six white horses and uncovered in spite of the threatening weather. Euloge was seated in it with his betrothed, who was richly dressed and dazzling in her youth and beauty. His customary escort, the black horsemen, the Hussars of Death, caracoled around the carriage with drawn swords, with which they struck those who were curious enough to approach too near. Behind them came a low cart, with large wheels painted red, drawn by two horses decorated with the tri-color ribbons, and loaded with planks, posts, and steps, painted red like the rest. The two sinister-looking men in charge of it, with their black trousers and the fatal "red bonnet" with its large cockade, were exchanging rather doleful pleasantries with the Hussars of Death. The rear of the procession was brought up by a small carriage, in which a small, grave, thin man was sitting, at whom the people pointed curiously, designating him simply as "Master Nicholas." The procession was accompanied by a double row of men bearing torches.
Schneider was coming to present his betrothed to Saint-Just, who, as we have seen, had gone out upon the balcony to meet them.
Saint-Just, calm, stern, and cold as the statue of Justice, was not popular: he was feared and respected. So that when he appeared on the balcony dressed as a representative of the people, with his plumed hat, the tri-color sash round his waist, and the sword at his side which he knew how to use with such good effect upon occasion, there were neither cries nor cheers, but a cold whispering and a backward movement, which left a great lighted circle in the midst of the crowd, into which the carriage of the betrothed couple drove slowly, followed by the cart bearing the guillotine and the cab with the executioner.
Saint-Just made a sign with his hand for the procession to stop, and the crowd, as we have said, not only stopped, but drew back.
Every one thought that Saint-Just was about to speak first; and in fact, after the imperative gesture which he made with supreme dignity, he had intended to speak, when, to the astonishment of all, the young girl opened the door of the carriage with a rapid movement, sprang to the ground, closed the door, and, falling on her knees on the pavement, cried suddenly in the midst of the solemn silence: "Justice, citizen! I appeal to Saint-Just and to the Convention for justice!"
"Against whom?" asked Saint-Just, in his quivering, incisive voice.
"Against this man, against Euloge Schneider, against the special commissioner of the Republic!"
"Speak; what has he done?" replied Saint-Just; "Justice listens to you."
Then, in a voice full-of emotion, but strong, indignant, and menacing, the young girl related all the hideous drama—the death of her mother, her
