France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
And I listened and marvelled. I began to understand that the same word
meant one thing in one man's mouth, and in another man's mouth another
thing; and that that which worked easily and smoothly in the north
might in the south roll hideously through fire and blood. In Quercy we
had lost two or three châteaux, and a handful of lives, and for a few
hours the mob had got out of hand--all with little enthusiasm. But
here--here I seemed to stand on the brink of a great furnace under
which the fires of persecution still smouldered; I felt the scorching
breath of passion on my cheek, and saw through the white-hot scum old
enmities seething with new and fiercer ambitions, old factions with
new bigotries. I had heard Froment, now I heard these; it remained
only to be seen whether Froment had his followers.
In the meantime, pent up in this place, I found little comfort in such
predictions; I lived on my heart, and the better part of a fortnight
went by. The woman at the inn was well satisfied to keep me; I paid,
and guests were rare. And the Committee took pride in me; I was a
living, walking token of their powers, and of the importance of their
village. Now to the mingled misery and absurdity of my position, the
anxiety on Mademoiselle's account, which this news of Nîmes caused me,
added the last intolerable touch, and I determined at all risks to
escape.
That I had no horse, and that at Suméne or Ganges I should inevitably
be detained, had hitherto held me back from the attempt; now I could
bear the position no longer, and after weighing all the chances, I
determined to slip away some evening at sunset, and make my way on
foot to Milhau. The villagers would be sure to pursue me in the
direction of Nîmes, whither they knew that I was bound; and even if a
party took the other road, I should have many chances of escape in the
darkness. I counted on reaching Milhau soon after daybreak, and there,
if the Mayor stood my friend, I might regain my horse, and with
credentials travel to Nîmes by the same or another road.
It seemed feasible, and that very evening fortune favoured me. The man
who should have kept me company, upset a pot of boiling water over his
foot, and without giving a thought to me or his duty went off groaning
to his house. A moment later the woman of the inn was called out by a
neighbour, and at the very hour I would have chosen, I found myself
alone. Still I knew that I had not a moment to lose; instantly,
therefore, I put on my cloak, and reaching down my pistols from a
shelf on which they had been placed, I put a little food in my pocket
and sneaked out at the rear of the house. A dog was kennelled there,
but it knew me and wagged its tail; and in two minutes, after warily
skirting the backs of the houses, I gained the road to Milhau, and
stood free and alone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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