They searched during the whole day in the court, in the garden and its environs, for the little billet which had caused all this tumult, and which they no longer doubted contained the whole plot.
They interrogated the queen, after having separated her from her daughter and sister, but elicited nothing more from her than that she had, on the staircase, encountered a young woman carrying a bouquet, and had drawn a single flower from the centre.
Moreover, she would not have plucked this flower had she not first obtained the consent of the Municipal Maurice.
She had nothing more to tell. This was the truth in all its force and simplicity.
This was all reported to Maurice when his turn came to be questioned, and he declared that the deposition of the queen was quite correct.
"But," said the president, "there was then a plot."
"Impossible," said Maurice; "I was dining at Madame Dixmer's, and proposed that she should see the prisoners, hearing her remark she had never done so; but neither the day nor the manner of so doing was arranged."
"But the flowers were purchased," said the president; "the bouquet had been made beforehand."
"Not at all; I myself purchased these flowers from a flower-girl, who offered them to us at the corner of the Rue des Vieilles-Audriettes."
"But at least this flower-girl presented the bouquet to you?"
"No, Citizen; I selected it myself from ten or twelve others. Certainly, I purchased the most beautiful."
"But was there a possibility of secreting this billet on your road to the tower?"
"Impossible, Citizen. I never left Madame Dixmer's side for a moment, and to perform the operation named on each flower,--for remark that every flower, according to Simon's account, must have contained a like billet,--would at least occupy half a day or more."
"But, in short, could not two prepared billets have been placed in the flowers?"
"The prisoner in my presence took one at random, after having declined the rest."
"Then, in your opinion, Citizen Lindey, there was not a plot at all?"
"Oh, there must have been a plot!" replied Maurice, "and I am the first not only to believe but to affirm it; my friends, however, were not concerned in it. Nevertheless, as the nation must necessarily be alarmed, I offer security by surrendering myself prisoner."
"Not at all," said Santerre; "should we act thus with tried friends like you? If you surrender yourself prisoner to answer for your friends, I surrender myself prisoner to answer for you. The thing is simple. There is no positive accusation. No one will know what has passed. Let us henceforth act with redoubled vigilance,--you especially,--and we shall succeed in probing this matter to the bottom, and at the same time avoid publicity."
"Thanks, Commandant," said Maurice; "but I shall answer as you would answer were you in my place. We must not stop here; we must discover the flower-girl."
"The flower-girl is far away, but be perfectly easy on that point; she shall be sought for. As for you, watch your friends, while I will guard the prison correspondence."
No one had thought of Simon, but he had formed his own project.
He arrived toward the conclusion of the sitting, and learned the decision of the Commune.
"Ah! then all that is needed is a formal accusation," said he, "to make sure work. Wait five minutes and I will lay one before you."
"What is it?" said the president.
"It is," said Simon, "the courageous Citizeness Tison who accuses of secret practices that partisan of the aristocracy, Maurice, and denounces the intrigues of another equally false patriot, one of his friends named Lorin."
"Take care, take care, Simon; your zeal for the nation perhaps misleads you. Maurice and Lorin are tried patriots."
"That will be seen at the tribunal," replied Simon.
"Consider well, Simon; this will be a disgraceful proceeding in the sight of all true patriots."
"Disgraceful or not, what is that to me? Do I dread disgrace? We shall at least learn the whole truth about traitors."
"Then you persist in lodging an accusation in the name of the woman Tison?"
"I will accuse them myself this very night to the Cordeliers, and you too, Citizen President, if you do not at once command the arrest of that traitor Maurice."
"Well, so be it," said the president, who, after the manner of those wretched times, trembled before those who clamored the loudest; "he shall be arrested."
While this decision was forming against him, Maurice had returned to the Temple, where the following billet awaited him,--
Our guard being violently broken up, I shall not be able, in all probability, to see you before to-morrow morning. Come then and breakfast with me; during that meal you shall give me a true and particular account of the plots and conspiracies discovered by Simon.
A pink the culprit was,-- So honest Simon does depose; But I shall information seek This morning from a lovely rose.
And to-morrow, in my turn, I shall lay before you all Arthémise's answers to my questions.
Yours faithfully,
Lorin.
Maurice replied,--
There is nothing new; so sleep in peace to-night, and breakfast without me to-morrow, as, on reviewing the incidents of the day, I find I shall not, in all probability, be able to leave till noon.
I should like to be a zephyr to waft a kiss to the rose of which you speak.
I give you leave to whistle at my prose as much as I do at your verse.
Yours faithfully,
Maurice.
P.S. For the rest, I believe the conspiracy was only a false alarm, after all.
Lorin had indeed left at one o'clock with the whole of his battalion, thanks to the brutal conduct of the shoemaker; he however consoled himself with a quatrain, and went to visit Arthémise.
Arthémise was delighted to see Lorin. The weather, as we have said, was magnificent; she therefore proposed a walk along the quay, to which Lorin of course assented. They had walked some distance, discoursing on politics, Lorin recounting his expulsion from the Temple and vainly endeavoring to divine the cause, when, on reaching the vicinity of Rue des Barres, they perceived a flower-girl, who, like themselves, was walking up the right bank of the Seine.
"Ah, Citizen Lorin!" said Arthémise, "I hope you are going to present me with a bouquet?"
"Two, if you wish it," said Lorin; and they both redoubled their speed to overtake the flower-girl, who walked at a rapid pace.
On arriving at the Bridge Marie, the young girl stopped, and leaning over the parapet, emptied the contents of her basket into the river.
The flowers separated, whirled round for an instant in the air, while the bouquets, dragged down by their weight, fell more quickly, till at last both flowers and bouquets floated upon the surface, following the course of the water.
"Stop!" said Arthémise, regarding the flower-girl thus strangely occupied; "it is said--but yes--but no--but if--ah! this is strange."
The flower-girl placed her finger on her lips, as if to entreat Arthémise to be silent, and disappeared.
"Who is this, then?" said Lorin; "do you know this mortal, goddess?"
"No; I fancied at first--but certainly I am deceived."
"She, however, made a sign to you," persisted Lorin.
"But why is she a flower-girl this morning?" said Arthémise to herself.
"You acknowledge, then, that you know her, Arthémise?" asked Lorin.
"Yes," replied Arthémise; "she is a flower-girl I sometimes deal with."
"At all events," said Lorin, "she has a strange method of disposing of her merchandise."
And both, after having looked for the last time at the flowers, which had already reached the wooden bridge and received a fresh impetus from the arm of the river passing under its arches, continued their route toward the Rapée, where they anticipated dining _tête-à-tête_.
This incident was forgotten for the moment; but as it was at least singular, and of rather a mysterious character, it vividly impressed Lorin's poetic imagination.
In the mean time, the accusation brought by Tison's wife against Maurice and Lorin caused a great tumult at the club of the Jacobins; and Maurice was informed at the Temple by the Commune that his safety was endangered by the public indignation. This was a recommendation to the young municipal to conceal himself if he were guilty; but with conscious rectitude Maurice remained at the Temple, where he was found at his post when they came to arrest him, and at the same time to interrogate him.
Remaining firm in his resolution not to endanger the safety of his friends, in whom he felt the most implicit confidence, Maurice was not the man to sacrifice himself by a ridiculous silence worthy of a hero of romance, and therefore demanded that the flower-girl should be arrested.
It was five o'clock in the evening when Lorin returned home, and heard, at the same moment, of the arrest of Maurice, and also of the demand made by him.
The flower-girl of the Bridge Marie instantly recurred to him like a sudden revelation. This singular individual casting her flowers into the Seine; the coincidence of place; the half admission of Arthémise,--all these facts combined convinced him that this was the solution of the mystery demanded by Maurice.
He bounded from his chamber, flew rather than ran down four flights of stairs, and precipitated himself into the presence of the Goddess Reason, who was engaged in embroidering golden stars on a robe of blue gauze. It was her robe of divinity.
"A truce to the stars, sweetheart," said Lorin; "they have arrested Maurice this morning, and, in all human probability, this evening I shall share the same fate."
"Maurice arrested!"
"By Heaven, he is! In these times nothing is more common than the occurrence of such troubles; but they excite little attention because they come in troops, that is all. Almost all important matters originate in trifles. Never neglect trifles. Who was that flower-girl we met this morning, sweetheart?"
Arthémise started.
"What flower-girl?"
"The one who so recklessly cast her flowers into the Seine."
"Ah, my goodness!" said Arthémise; "is this circumstance, then, so serious that you return to question me so urgently about it?"
"So serious, sweetheart, that I entreat you to answer my question without loss of time."
"Dear Lorin, I cannot do so."
"Goddess, with you nothing is impossible."
"I am in honor bound to keep silence."
"And I am bound in honor to make you speak."
"But why do you insist upon it thus?"
"Why? Zounds! that Maurice may not have his throat cut!"
"Merciful Heavens! Maurice guillotined!" cried the young woman, much alarmed.
"Without speaking of myself; for to tell you the truth my head feels by no means secure upon my shoulders."
"Ah! No, no!" said Arthémise, "to speak would be the poor girl's utter ruin."
At this moment Lorin's official rushed into the apartment.
"Ah! Citizen," cried he, "save yourself! save yourself!"
"And why?" demanded Lorin.
"Because the gendarmes have arrived; and while they were forcing an entrance, I gained the next house by the roof, and hastened to prevent your return."
Arthémise uttered a heart-rending cry, for she truly loved Lorin.
"Arthémise," said Lorin, "do you really place the life of a flower-girl in comparison with that of Maurice and that of your lover? If so, I declare to you that I no longer regard you as the Goddess Reason, but shall proclaim you the Goddess Folly."
"Poor Héloïse!" exclaimed the ex-dancer of the Opera; "if I betray you, it is not my fault."
"Well done, my darling!" said Lorin, presenting a paper to Arthémise, "you have already favored me with her Christian name, oblige me now with her surname and address."
"Oh, write it! never, never!" cried Arthémise; "I would rather tell you."
"Tell me, then, and rest assured I shall not forget."
And Arthémise, in an agitated voice, gave the name and address of the pretended flower-girl to Lorin.
"She is called Héloïse Tison, and lives, Rue des Nonandières, No. 24."
At this name, Lorin uttered an exclamation, and fled. He had not reached the corner of the street when a letter was delivered to Arthémise. It only contained three lines,--
Not a word concerning me, dear friend; the revelation of my name would infallibly ruin me. Wait till to-morrow. I quit Paris to-night.
Thine,
Héloïse.
"Oh, my God!" cried the future goddess, "if I could only have divined this I should have waited till to-morrow," and she rushed to the window to recall Lorin, if there was yet time; but he had disappeared.