“It is the work of one who teaches that all men are citizens together, and that all citizens are brothers. Keep your gun, Réné, to preserve your country; but also keep your plane to preserve your independence. Be a carpenter to the people at large, my boy; but be no one’s servant, not even if he be a prince. The first opportunity I have, I will send you ‘Emile’ to read.”
So saying, and squeezing the hand of his old friend, M. Jean Baptiste remounted his horse. As I held his stirrup he lifted me gently to his saddle bow, and placed his hand on my head.
“Réné Besson,” he said, with dignity, “in the name of that grand future of liberty, with which France is even now in travail, I baptize thee citizen.”
Then relinquishing me, and striking his spurs into his horse, he disappeared down the forest.
Next day a messenger came from M. Jean Baptiste Drouet, who, faithful to his promise of the night before, sent me a little book, with these words written on the first page—
“To the Citizen Réné Besson, carpenter.”
The little book in question was “Emile.”
