He held up the charm Josephine had given to St. Just.
"I do; it belongs to me. It was given me some years ago by Madame Buonaparte, in the presence of her husband, the night I saved him from assassination."
"Dear me, you seem to have a trick of saving life," sneered Talleyrand.
"Say rather, the good Fortune. But to continue; on that occasion, the General attached a promise to the gift."
"Which he has fulfilled, and not for the first time, I understand. This is the key that has unlocked your prison cell. Madame de Moncourt, by some means,"—and he looked meaningly at St. Just—"got news of your predicament and, having this talisman of yours in her possession, entrusted it to me to pass on to the First Consul, with the reminder of his pledge to you. I have fulfilled my errand, and, on certain conditions, you are free."
St. Just could not repress a sigh of relief, for, though from the commencement of his interview he had thought that he was safe, now he was assured of it.
"I am deeply grateful to you, Sir," he said, "for your efforts on my behalf; also to Madame de Moncourt, to whom, if I may take the liberty, I will ask you to convey my heartfelt thanks."
Ignoring St. Just's request, which he had wit enough to know was not made seriously, and, in consequence, resented, Talleyrand answered sharply.
"Then show your gratitude, Sir, by abstaining in the future from dabbling in conspiracies, and by devoting yourself faithfully to your country's interests. Are you ready to act thus?"
To this St. Just answered that he was; and, at the time he really meant it.