"Long live the razor of the Republic!"
A newsvendor began to sing, and was joined in chorus—
"Doctor Guillotin,
That great médécin
Love of human kind
Preoccupies his mind."
As to the company of the lost in the carts, they consisted of a strange variety. In the first, the principal persons were a majestic woman and her two daughters, sitting erect, with hands tied, costumed freshly and invested still with the old carefulness of manner; but the eyes of the youngest were staring with horror. There was a large dog in the same cart, condemned for carrying despatches. In the next a National Assembly-man, betrayed by Robespierre, tore his hair and raved on his fate. Opposite him two poor sewing-women, falsely accused by a neighbour, sat helplessly, their eyes shut, their lips incessantly repeating prayers; by their side, a boy of eight, with bright, fair features, sobbing, his little hands tied, as the executioner's man showed the crowd with a laugh. His crime was that his father had been a Count. Third came the cart containing Germain, to whom all eyes were directed. On the seat opposite him was Jude, frantically entreating the saints, the driver, the guards, and the crowd to take pity on his soul.
"Buy the bulletin of the revolutionary tribunal; judgements of to-day! The horrible aristocrat Répentigny brought to justice! Here he is! here is the one who defied the jury!"
"Bodyguard of Capet!"
"Here is the one who killed Bec and Caron!" shrilled Wife Gougeon.
"Long live the Galley-on-Land!"
These cries gradually roused Lecour, and for the first time, putting it all together and recognising faces, he realised the truth of the Admiral's boast that he had been pursued all these years by the crew about him—the organisation of the cave of Fontainebleau. The long-lit hatred of so many eyes stabbed his heart to the quick. Yet of the inward Passion of his journey there was no outward appearance. He sat quiet of visage, clinging to the one underlying thought that he had been able to free Cyrène. Alas! how long even yet could it be before she would be riding the same ride?
Suddenly Abbé Jude in front of him lost his frantic gestures and sobbed violently. Germain put aside his own concerns, and bending over whispered gently, "Courage, my brother, for a little."