I had some difficulty in answering his questions as to the names and the number of my family who were guillotined, and when and where the execution had occurred; but I was spared any excessive strain on my imagination by the palpable indifference my companion exhibited to a theme now monstrously tiresome. He, however, was communicative enough on the subject of the Troupe and their duties, which he told me were daily becoming more onerous. The Government, harassed by the opposition of the National Guards and the Jeunesse Dorée together, had resorted to the terrible expedient of releasing above a thousand prisoners from the galleys; and these, he assured me, were now on their way to Paris, to be armed and formed into a regiment.
Though he told this with a natural horror, he still spoke of his own party with every confidence. They comprised, he said, the courage, the property, and the loyalty of France. The whole nation looked to them as the last stay and succor, and felt that the hope of the country was in their keeping.
I asked him what was the number now enrolled in the Troupe? and, to my astonishment, he could not tell me. In fact, he owned that many had of late assumed the uniform as spies, and General Danitan had resolved that each volunteer should present himself to him for acceptance before receiving any charge, or being appointed to any guard.
I had not time for further questioning, when we arrived at the hôtel of the general, when my companion, having given me full directions for my guidance, shook my hand cordially, and departed.
As I ascended the stairs I overtook an elderly gentleman in a gray military frock, who was slowly making his way upwards by the aid of the balustrade.
“Give me your arm, lad,” said he, “for this stair seems to grow steeper every day. Thanks; now I shall get on better. What has torn your coat-sleeve?”
I told him in a few words what had just occurred in the streets, and he listened to me with a degree of interest that somewhat surprised me.
“Come along, my lad. Let General Danitan hear this from your own lips;” and with an agility that I could not have believed him capable of, he hurried up the stairs, and, crossing a kind of gallery crowded with officers of different grades, he entered a chamber where two persons in military undress were writing.
“Can I see the general, François?” said he, abruptly.
The officer thus addressed, coolly replied that he believed not, and went on with his writing as before.