[THE FATHER AND DAUGHTER]
Bertha de Brévannes usually passed every Sunday and Thursday morning with her father, Pierre Raimond, who still dwelt in the Isle Saint Louis, Rue Poultier, near to the Hôtel Lambert, the residence of the Prince de Hansfeld.
Since his daughter's return to Paris, the old engraver had not once seen her, but, informed of her arrival, he awaited her coming on the Sunday morning, for the different scenes we have related took place during the night of Saturday.
Full of joy at the prospect of embracing his beloved child, Pierre Raimond, according to usual custom, bestowed all possible care to give an air of festivity to his humble abode, which consisted of a small sitting-room and two chambers, up four pairs of stairs. From the windows of these small apartments a view might be obtained of the quay and river Seine, while, in the horizon, the tops of the tall trees in the Jardin des Plantes were discernible, and, farther still, appeared the lofty dome of the Panthéon.
The chamber formerly occupied by Bertha was almost worshipped by the engraver, who had not permitted the least change to be made in any of its arrangements. The little painted bedstead, with its white cotton curtains, the old walnut-tree chest of drawers, which had formerly belonged to Madame Raimond, the small, rickety pianoforte, on which Bertha had acquired her musical proficiency, were all there as she left them; and there, too, safe under a glass frame, were the wreaths of victory gained by the youthful aspirant during the course of her studies at the Conservatoire de la Musique.
Pierre Raimond could not be less than seventy years of age. His tall figure, bent beneath the pressure of his years, his bald head, white beard, which he had ceased for many years to touch with a razor, added considerably to the stern severity of his features; his eyelids were nearly always half closed, and proved but too painfully how much his sight had suffered from his incessant labour. This infirmity, added to a slight nervous tremor which had settled upon him after a long and severe illness, had compelled him to relinquish his occupation of engraving music, and, sorely against his will, to accept a pension from M. de Brévannes of twelve hundred francs.
The chamber of Pierre Raimond, which had formerly been his studio, was scrupulously neat and clean; beneath the window stood his work-table, with the implements of his now abandoned profession laid in exact order, as though for immediate use, upon some metal plates, prepared for the engraving of music. A small iron bedstead, a table, four chairs of walnut-tree wood, composed the almost anchorite-like simplicity of the fittings up of the apartment.
Over the recess, where stood his bed, hung an ancient sword of honour, obtained by Pierre Raimond during that period of his youth when he had served as a volunteer in the Republican army.
Above the sword was a framed copy of the celebrated appeal made by the Convention to the people upon the occasion of the assassination of the French envoys.
The 9th Floréal of the 7th year,
at 9 o'clock in the Evening,
The Austrian Government caused the Assassination of
the Ministers of the French Republic,
BONNIER, ROBERJOT, and JEAN DEBRY,
Charged by the Directory to negotiate the Peace of Rastadt,
THEIR SMOKING BLOOD DEMANDS AND WILL
OBTAIN JUST VENGEANCE."