So, when his door was opened and St. Just recognized his visitor, he feared that it portended mischief to himself, and a vague dread came over him. He sprang in some confusion from his seat, and had just begun to greet the governor respectfully when his eye fell on another person who was following him. The sight almost took away his breath; if his apprehension of evil had been vague before, it was now distinct enough, for the man was Buonaparte!
"The—the First Consul!" he gasped in terror, when the short figure and pale face of the "Man of Destiny" confronted him.
A grim smile flitted about the great man's features, and, with his hands crossed behind his back, he turned to the governor, who, hat in hand, had stood aside respectfully; then he said in his harsh, rapid tones:—
"Evidently, Mons. le Gouverneur, your lodgers hear nothing of what goes on in the outside world."
"Not a word, Sire; it is forbidden within these walls."
At that word, "Sire," St. Just gave a start. What did it portend? He noted, too, that the governor's manner was rather that of a subject to a monarch than of an official to the head of a republic. Had Buonaparte indeed, become King of France?
While he was still wondering, Buonaparte, who, in the dim twilight had not recognized him, turned to him and inquired sharply, "Your name, sir."
"St. Just, Sire," was the reply, he deeming it wise to use the same form of address that the governor had employed; but he was trembling visibly.
Buonaparte started, and again a cruel smile hovered about his mouth; then the words fell from him in a torrent:—
"So it is you, Sir. I had forgotten you. By my faith, it was a fitting return you made for my clemency in allowing you to live. You plotted against me once and I forgave you; I have spared your life a second time, regardful of my promise; can you suppose that, but for that, you would have lived an hour after you had been brought here? And it is to my wife that you are principally indebted; it was she who reminded me of my pledge. You have a good friend in the Empress. But for her, you would have been shot, as you deserved, and buried in yonder ditch." And he pointed towards the window, and beyond to the very spot on which the young Duc d'Enghien had been done to death.