"Yes, Citizen," replied the official, terrified at the pallor and nervous trembling he had never before remarked in his master, who had always been justly considered one of the most courageous and vigorous of men,—"yes; what are your orders for me?"
"Listen! if this lady who lived here—" He stopped; his voice trembled so much in pronouncing these words that he was unable to proceed. "If she should return," continued he, after a moment's pause, "receive her, close the door after her, take this gun, and station yourself upon the staircase; and for your head, for your life, for your soul, do not permit a single person to enter here! If any one should try to break through the door, defend it! Strike! kill! kill! and fear nothing, Scævola, for I will answer for all."
The young man's impetuous harangue, his vehement confidence, electrified Scævola.
"I will not only kill, but will even suffer death for the Citizeness Geneviève," said he.
"Thanks. Now attend! This apartment is odious to me, and I shall not enter it again until I find her; if she has been able to effect her escape, if she return, place before the window the Japan vase with the china-asters, which she loved so much. That is, during the day. At night, put a lantern. Every time I pass the end of the street I shall know, and if I see neither vase nor lantern I shall still continue my researches."
"Be prudent, sir! Oh, pray be prudent!" continued Scævola.
His master made no reply, but rushing from the chamber flew down the staircase as if possessed of wings, and ran toward Lorin's house.
It would be difficult to paint the astonishment and rage of our worthy poet when he heard the news; we might as well attempt to indite the touching elegies with which Orestes inspired Pylades.
"And you do not know where she is?" he repeated, incessantly.
"Lost! disappeared!" shrieked Maurice, in accents of despair, "he has killed her, Lorin! he has killed her!"