"Dame! it was never worth much; and as to saints, one Citizen Montmorency said yesterday that the republic hath abolished the noblesse of heaven and earth too. Droll idea, citizen"; and he laughed merrily.
"Oh, quit that infernal laughing! Thou must be of the Comédie Française."
"No; I am of the comedy of France, like the rest—like the commissioner; but the citizen has two ears for a joke."
"I—I think so"; and he made it manifest by a twisted, unilateral grin of self-approval. "That idea of the citizen—prisoners denouncing—I shall not forget that. Wilt thou serve the republic?"
"Why not?"
"These common spies in the prisons are useless. I will put an 'M' to thy name on our list; 'M' for mouchard—spy. That will put thee down at the bottom whenever the Committee of Safety comes to thy case. I am not ungrateful."
"Very good," said François, promptly. "I am as honest a Jacobin as the best. I will serve the republic, citizen, to the best of my ability."
"Then thou wilt report once a week, especially on the ci-devants. The head keeper will give thee pen, ink, and paper, and a chance to write here alone. I will so order it. But beware, citizen! I am not a man to trifle with; I do not forget.'7
"I should think not," said François, humbly.
"And when Grégoire comes, in June, thou wilt report to him."