Scaramouche: A Romance of the French RevolutionSabatini, Rafael
History
Scaramouche: A Romance of the French Revolution
Sabatini, Rafael
Adventure stories; France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Love stories; War stories
“You may think so if you choose--that I am afraid to do slyly and
treacherously that which a thrasonical patriot like yourself is afraid
of doing frankly and openly. I have other reasons. But that one should
suffice you.”
Danton gasped. Then he swore more amazingly and variedly than ever.
“By ----! you are right,” he admitted, to Andre-Louis’ amazement. “You
are right, and I am wrong. I am as bad a patriot as you are, and I am
a coward as well.” And he invoked the whole Pantheon to witness his
self-denunciation. “Only, you see, I count for something: and if they
take me and hang me, why, there it is! Monsieur, we must find some other
way. Forgive the intrusion. Adieu!” He held out his enormous hand..
Le Chapelier stood hesitating, crestfallen.
“You understand, Andre? I am sorry that...”
“Say no more, please. Come and see me soon again. I would press you to
remain, but it is striking nine, and the first of my pupils is about to
arrive.”
“Nor would I permit it,” said Danton. “Between us we must resolve the
riddle of how to extinguish M. de La Tour d’Azyr and his friends.”
“Who?”
Sharp as a pistol-shot came that question, as Danton was turning away.
The tone of it brought him up short. He turned again, Le Chapelier with
him.
“I said M. de La Tour d’Azyr.”
“What has he to do with the proposal you were making me?”
“He? Why, he is the phlebotomist in chief.”
And Le Chapelier added. “It is he who killed Lagron.”
“Not a friend of yours, is he?” wondered Danton.
“And it is La Tour d’Azyr you desire me to kill?” asked Andre-Louis very
slowly, after the manner of one whose thoughts are meanwhile pondering
the subject.
“That’s it,” said Danton. “And not a job for a prentice hand, I can
assure you.”
“Ah, but this alters things,” said Andre-Louis, thinking aloud. “It
offers a great temptation.”
“Why, then...?” The Colossus took a step towards him again.
“Wait!” He put up his hand. Then with chin sunk on his breast, he paced
away to the window, musing.
Le Chapelier and Danton exchanged glances, then watched him, waiting,
what time he considered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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