"It rather savors of the aristocrat, comrade, what you did just now," said Duchesne, shaking his head.
"Whom do you term an aristocrat? Explain yourself!"
"I call aristocrats all those who annoy the nation, and succor its enemies."
"Then, according to your theory, I annoy the nation because I cease to annoy with my smoking the Widow Capet? Go along, then! As for me," continued the brave fellow, "I remember my oath to my country, and the order of my brigadier. As for my order, I know it by heart. Not to permit the prisoner to escape; not to allow any one to see her; to resist all correspondence she may endeavor to institute; and to die at my post,—this is what I promised, and to this will I keep. Vive la nation!"
"That is what I tell you," said Duchesne. "It is not that I disapprove of your conduct, but I fear lest you should compromise yourself."
"Hush! here is some one."
The queen had not lost one word of this conversation, although carried on in a low voice. Captivity had rendered her hearing doubly acute.
The noise which had attracted the attention of the two guards was the sound of several steps approaching the door. It opened, and two municipals entered, followed by the keeper and some of the turnkeys.
"Well," they inquired, "where is the prisoner?"
"Here she is," replied the two gendarmes.