“Oh, M. Réné!” said the young girl; “you listen to my father, and then do me a grievous wrong, without any foundation for it.”
Sophie and myself bounded down the staircase, and in a moment found ourselves under a bright sun in the street, as I could not help thinking, like two butterflies emerged from a chrysalis state.
Whilst I had been waiting at M. Gerbaut’s, and whilst I had been listening to Sophie’s song, the streets of Varennes had undergone a great change.
The city was holding high holiday, with which, however, was mingled a certain degree of solemnity.
All the houses were hung with tapestry; and outside the doors tables were laid, covered with flowers, at which the inhabitants of the houses were seated, eating, waited upon by their servants, if they had any; if not, by themselves.
As if they wished that the dead should participate in the joy of the living, garlands of green boughs, intermingled with flowers, were suspended from the gates of the cemetery, which stretched from the church to the side of the Rue de l’Horloge. In the middle of the Place was erected a scaffolding, filled with amateur musicians, who wished to promote a dance after dinner. On the front of this temple of Terpsichore was written “Vive le Roi! Vive la nation!” Underneath this, in large letters, was inscribed the word “Fraternité!”
It was, in fact a brotherly rejoicing. Those who there met for the first time were members of one great family, which had existed for centuries, only it ignored the tie which bound one to the other.
But common danger had caused to meet the two ends of the thread, and in their union they found force.
After passing the houses leading to the Place Latry, we arrived at the open space in front of the Rue de l’Horloge, and entered into the midst of the crowd.
There seemed to be collected all the inhabitants of the High Town.