Part 7

ELOISE [_suddenly volcanic_]. Then "_now_" you'll perhaps be "patient" enough to explain why I shouldn't leave you instantly. Understand fully that I have come thus far with you and Anne solely to protect you in case you were suspected. "_Now_," my little man, you are safe: you have only to go on board your vessel. Why should I go with you? Why do you insist on dragging me out of the country?

LOUIS [_wearily_]. Only to save your life; that is all.

ELOISE. My life! Tut! My life is safe with the People--my People! [_She draws herself up magnificently._] The Nation would protect me! I gave the people my whole fortune when they were starving. After that, who in France dare lay a finger upon the Citizeness Eloise d'Anville!

LOUIS. I have the idea sometimes, my cousin, that perhaps if you had not given them your property they would have taken it, anyway. [_Dryly._] They did mine.

ELOISE [_agitated_]. I do not expect you to comprehend what I felt--what I feel! [_She lifts her arms longingly._] Oh, for a Man!--a Man who could understand me!

LOUIS [_sadly_]. That excludes me!

ELOISE. Shall I spell it?

LOUIS. You are right. So far from understanding you, I understand nothing. The age is too modern for me. I do not understand why this rabble is permitted to rule France; I do not even understand why it is permitted to live.

ELOISE [_with superiority_]. Because you belong to the class that thought itself made of porcelain and the rest of the world clay. It is simple: the mud-ball breaks the vase.

LOUIS. You belong to the same class, even to the same family.

ELOISE. You are wrong. One circumstance proves me no aristocrat.

LOUIS. What circumstance?

ELOISE. That I happened to be born with brains. I can account for it only by supposing some hushed-up ancestral scandal. [_Brusquely._] Do you understand that?

LOUIS. I overlook it. [_He writes again._]

ELOISE. Quibbling was always a habit of yours. [_Snapping at him irritably._] Oh, stop that writing! You can't do it, and you don't need it. You blame the people because they turn on you now, after you've whipped and beaten and ground them underfoot for centuries and centuries and--

LOUIS. Quite a career for a man of twenty-nine!

ELOISE. I have said that quibbling was--

LOUIS [_despondently_]. Perhaps it is. To return to my other deficiencies, I do not understand why this spy who followed us from Paris has not arrested me long before now. I do not understand why you hate me. I do not understand the world in general. And in particular I do not understand the art of forgery. [_He throws down his pen._]

ELOISE. You talk of "patience"! How often have I explained that you would not need passports of any kind if you would let me throw off my incognito. If anyone questions you, it will be sufficient if I give my name. All France knows the Citizeness Eloise d'Anville. Do you suppose the officer on the quay would dare oppose--

LOUIS [_with a gesture of resignation_]. I know you think it.

ELOISE [_angrily_]. You tempt me not to prove it. But for Anne's sake--

LOUIS. Not for mine. That, at least, I understand. [_He rises._] My dear cousin, I am going to be very serious--

ELOISE. O heaven! [_She flings away from him._]

LOUIS [_plaintively_]. I shall not make another oration--

ELOISE. Make anything you choose. [_Drumming the floor with her foot._] What does it matter?

LOUIS. I have a presentiment--I ask you to listen--

ELOISE [_in her irritation almost screaming_]. How can I help but listen? And Anne, too! [_With a short laugh._] You know as well as I do that when that door is open everything you say in this room is heard in there. [_She points to the open doorway, where MADAME DE LASEYNE instantly makes her appearance, and after exchanging one fiery glance with ELOISE as swiftly withdraws, closing the door behind her with outraged emphasis._]

ELOISE [_breaking into a laugh_]. Forward, soldiers!

LOUIS [_reprovingly_]. Eloise!

ELOISE. Well, _open_ the door, then, if you want her to hear you make love to me! [_Coolly._] That's what you're going to do, isn't it?

LOUIS [_with imperfect self-control_]. I wish to ask you for the last time--

ELOISE [_flouting_]. There are so many last times!

LOUIS. To ask you if you are sure that you know your own heart. You cared for me once, and--

ELOISE [_as if this were news indeed_]. I did? Who under heaven ever told you that?

LOUIS [_flushing_]. You allowed yourself to be betrothed to me, I believe.

ELOISE. "Allowed" is the word, precisely. I seem to recall changing all that the very day I became an orphan--and my own master! [_Satirically polite._] Pray correct me if my memory errs. How long ago was it? Six years? Seven?

LOUIS [_with emotion_]. Eloise, Eloise, you did love me then! We were happy, both of us, so very happy--

ELOISE [_sourly_]. "Both!" My faith! But I must have been a brave little actress.

LOUIS. I do not believe it. You loved me. I--[_He hesitates._]

ELOISE. Do get on with what you have to say.

LOUIS [_in a low voice_]. I have many forebodings, Eloise, but the strongest--and for me the saddest--is that this is the last chance you will ever have to tell--to tell me--[_He falters again._]

ELOISE [_irritated beyond measure, shouting_]. To tell you what?

LOUIS [_swallowing_]. That your love for me still lingers.

ELOISE [_promptly_]. Well, it doesn't. So _that's_ over!

LOUIS. Not quite yet. I--

ELOISE [_dropping into a chair_]. O Death!

LOUIS [_still gently_]. Listen. I have hope that you and Anne may be permitted to escape; but as for me, since the first moment I felt the eyes of that spy from Paris upon me I have had the premonition that I would be taken back--to the guillotine, Eloise. I am sure that he will arrest me when I attempt to leave this place to-night. [_With sorrowful earnestness._] And it is with the certainty in my soul that this is our last hour together that I ask you if you cannot tell me that the old love has come back. Is there nothing in your heart for me?

ELOISE. Was there anything in _your_ heart for the beggar who stood at your door in the old days?

LOUIS. Is there nothing for him who stands at yours now, begging for a word?

ELOISE [_frowning_]. I remember you had the name of a disciplinarian in your regiment. [_She rises to face him._] Did you ever find anything in your heart for the soldiers you ordered tied up and flogged? Was there anything in your heart for the peasants who starved in your fields?

LOUIS [_quietly_]. No; it was too full of you.

ELOISE. Words! Pretty little words!

LOUIS. Thoughts. Pretty, because they are of you. All, always of you--always, my dear. I never really think of anything but you. The picture of you is always before the eyes of my soul; the very name of you is forever in my heart. [_With a rueful smile._] And it is on the tips of my fingers, sometimes when it shouldn't be. See. [_He steps to the desk and shows her a scribbled sheet._] This is what I laughed at a while ago. I tried to write, with you near me, and unconsciously I let your name creep into my very forgery! I wrote it as I wrote it in the sand when we were children; as I have traced it a thousand times on coated mirrors--on frosted windows. [_He reads the writing aloud._] "Permit the Citizen Balsage and his sister, the Citizeness Virginie Balsage, and his second sister, the Citizeness Marie Balsage, and Eloise d'Anville"--so I wrote!--"to embark upon the vessel _Jeune Pierrette_--" You see? [_He lets the paper fall upon the desk._] Even in this danger, that I feel closer and closer with every passing second, your name came in of itself. I am like that English Mary: if they will open my heart when I am dead, they shall find, not "Calais," but "Eloise"!

ELOISE [_going to the dressing-table_]. Louis, that doesn't interest me. [_She adds a delicate touch or two to her hair, studying it thoughtfully in the dressing-table mirror._]

LOUIS [_somberly_]. I told you long ago--

ELOISE [_smiling at her reflection_]. So you did--often!

LOUIS [_breathing quickly_]. I have nothing new to offer. I understand. I bore you.

ELOISE. Louis, to be frank: I don't care what they find in your heart when they open it.

LOUIS [_with a hint of sternness_]. Have you never reflected that there might be something for me to forgive you?

ELOISE [_glancing at him over her shoulder in frowning surprise_]. What!

LOUIS. I wonder sometimes if you have ever found a flaw in your own character.

ELOISE [_astounded_]. So! [_Turning sharply upon him._] You are assuming the right to criticize me, are you? Oho!

LOUIS [_agitated_]. I state merely--I have said--I think I forgive you a great deal--

ELOISE [_beginning to char_]. You do! You bestow your gracious pardon upon me, do you? [_Bursting into flame._] Keep your forgiveness to yourself! When I want it I'll kneel at your feet and beg it of you! You can _kiss_ me then, for then you will know that "the old love has come back"!

LOUIS [_miserably_]. When you kneel--

ELOISE. Can you picture it--_Marquis?_ [_She hurls his title at him, and draws herself up in icy splendor._] I am a woman of the Republic!

LOUIS. And the Republic has no need of love.

ELOISE. Its daughter has no need of yours!

LOUIS. Until you kneel to me. You have spoken. It is ended. [_Turning from her with a pathetic gesture of farewell and resignation, his attention is suddenly arrested by something invisible. He stands for a moment transfixed. When he speaks, it is in an altered tone, light and at the same time ominous._] My cousin, suffer the final petition of a bore. Forgive my seriousness; forgive my stupidity, for I believe that what one hears now means that a number of things are indeed ended. Myself among them.

ELOISE [_not comprehending_]. "What one hears?"

LOUIS [_slowly_]. In the distance. [_Both stand motionless to listen, and the room is silent. Gradually a muffled, multitudinous sound, at first very faint, becomes audible._]

ELOISE. What is it?

LOUIS [_with pale composure_]. Only a song! [_The distant sound becomes distinguishable as a singing from many unmusical throats and pitched in every key, a drum-beat booming underneath; a tumultuous rumble which grows slowly louder. The door of the inner room opens, and MADAME DE LASEYNE enters._]

ANNE [_briskly, as she comes in_]. I have hidden the cloak and the dress beneath the mattress. Have you--

LOUIS [_lifting his hand_]. Listen! [_She halts, startled. The singing, the drums, and the tumult swell suddenly much louder, as if the noise-makers had turned a corner._]

ANNE [_crying out_]. The "Marseillaise"!

LOUIS. The "Vultures' Chorus"!

ELOISE [_in a ringing voice_]. The Hymn of Liberty!

ANNE [_trembling violently_]. It grows louder.

LOUIS. Nearer!

ELOISE [_running to the window_]. They are coming this way!

ANNE [_rushing ahead of her_]. They have turned the corner of the street. Keep back, Louis!

ELOISE [_leaning out of the window, enthusiastically_]. _Vive la_--[_She finishes with an indignant gurgle as ANNE DE LASEYNE, without comment, claps a prompt hand over her mouth and pushes her vigorously from the window._]

ANNE. A mob--carrying torches and dancing. [_Her voice shaking wildly._] They are following a troop of soldiers.

LOUIS. The National Guard.

ANNE. Keep back from the window! A man in a tricolor scarf marching in front.

LOUIS. A political, then--an official of their government.

ANNE. O Virgin, have mercy! [_She turns a stricken face upon her brother._] It is that--

LOUIS [_biting his nails_]. Of course. Our spy. [_He takes a hesitating step toward the desk; but swings about, goes to the door at the rear, shoots the bolt back and forth, apparently unable to decide upon a course of action; finally leaves the door bolted and examines the hinges. ANNE, meanwhile, has hurried to the desk, and, seizing a candle there, begins to light others in a candelabrum on the dressing-table. The noise outside grows to an uproar; the "Marseillaise" changes to "Ca ira"; and a shaft of the glare from the torches below shoots through the window and becomes a staggering red patch on the ceiling._]

ANNE [_feverishly_]. Lights! Light those candles in the sconce, Eloise! Light all the candles we have. [_ELOISE, resentful, does not move._]

LOUIS. No, no! Put them out!

ANNE. Oh, fatal! [_She stops him as he rushes to obey his own command._] If our window is lighted he will believe we have no thought of leaving, and pass by. [_She hastily lights the candles in a sconce upon the wall as she speaks; the shabby place is now brightly illuminated._]

LOUIS. He will not pass by. [_The external tumult culminates in riotous yelling, as, with a final roll, the drums cease to beat. MADAME DE LASEYNE runs again to the window._]

ELOISE [_sullenly_]. You are disturbing yourselves without reason. They will not stop here.

ANNE [_in a sickly whisper_]. They have stopped.

LOUIS. At the door of this house? [_MADAME DE LASEYNE, leaning against the wall, is unable to reply, save by a gesture. The noise from the street dwindles to a confused, expectant murmur. LOUIS takes a pistol from beneath his blouse, strides to the door, and listens._]

ANNE [_faintly_]. He is in the house. The soldiers followed him.

LOUIS. They are on the lower stairs. [_He turns to the two women humbly._] My sister and my cousin, my poor plans have only made everything worse for you. I cannot ask you to forgive me. We are caught.

ANNE [_vitalized with the energy of desperation_]. Not till the very last shred of hope is gone. [_She springs to the desk and begins to tear the discarded sheets into minute fragments._] Is that door fastened?

LOUIS. They'll break it down, of course.

ANNE. Where is our passport from Paris?

LOUIS. Here. [_He gives it to her._]

ANNE. Quick! Which of these "permits" is the best?

LOUIS. They're all hopeless--[_He fumbles among the sheets on the desk._]

ANNE. Any of them. We can't stop to select. [_She thrusts the passport and a haphazard sheet from the desk into the bosom of her dress. An orderly tramping of heavy shoes and a clinking of metal become audible as the soldiers ascend the upper flight of stairs._]

ELOISE. All this is childish. [_Haughtily._] I shall merely announce--

ANNE [_uttering a half-choked scream of rage_]. You'll announce nothing! Out of here, both of you!

LOUIS. No, no!

ANNE [_with breathless rapidity, as the noise on the stairs grows louder_]. Let them break the door in if they will; only let them find me alone. [_She seizes her brother's arm imploringly as he pauses, uncertain._] Give me the chance to make them think I am here alone.

LOUIS. I can't--

ANNE [_urging him to the inner door_]. Is there any other possible hope for us? Is there any other possible way to gain even a little time? Louis, I want your word of honor not to leave that room unless I summon you. I must have it! [_Overborne by her intensity, LOUIS nods despairingly, allowing her to force him toward the other room. The tramping of the soldiers, much louder and very close, comes to a sudden stop. There is a sharp word of command, and a dozen muskets ring on the floor just beyond the outer door._]

ELOISE [_folding her arms_]. You needn't think I shall consent to hide myself. I shall tell them--

ANNE [_in a surcharged whisper_]. You will not ruin us! [_With furious determination, as a loud knock falls upon the door._] In there, I tell you! [_Almost physically she sweeps both ELOISE and LOUIS out of the room, closes the door upon them, and leans against it, panting. The knocking is repeated. She braces herself to speak._]

ANNE [_with a catch in her throat_]. Who is--there?

A SONOROUS VOICE. French Republic!

ANNE [_faltering_], It is--it is difficult to hear. What do you--

THE VOICE. Open the door.

ANNE [_more firmly_]. That is impossible.

THE VOICE. Open the door.

ANNE. What is your name?

THE VOICE. Valsin, National Agent.

ANNE. I do not know you.

THE VOICE. Open!

ANNE. I am here alone. I am dressing. I can admit no one.

THE VOICE. For the last time: open!

ANNE. No!

THE VOICE. Break it down. [_A thunder of blows from the butts of muskets falls upon the door._]

ANNE [_rushing toward it in a passion of protest_]. No, no, no! You shall not come in! I tell you I have not finished dressing. If you are men of honor--Ah! [_She recoils, gasping, as a panel breaks in, the stock of a musket following it; and then, weakened at rusty bolt and crazy hinge, the whole door gives way and falls crashing into the room. The narrow passage thus revealed is crowded with shabbily uniformed soldiers of the National Guard, under an officer armed with a saber. As the door falls a man wearing a tricolor scarf strides by them, and, standing beneath the dismantled lintel, his hands behind him, sweeps the room with a smiling eye._

_This personage is handsomely, almost dandiacally dressed in black; his ruffle is of lace, his stockings are of silk; the lapels of his waistcoat, overlapping those of his long coat, exhibit a rich embroidery of white and crimson. These and other details of elegance, such as his wearing powder upon his dark hair, indicate either insane daring or an importance quite overwhelming. A certain easy power in his unusually brilliant eyes favors the probability that, like Robespierre, he can wear what he pleases. Undeniably he has distinction. Equally undeniable is something in his air that is dapper and impish and lurking. His first glance over the room apparently affording him acute satisfaction, he steps lightly across the prostrate door, MADAME DE LASEYNE retreating before him but keeping herself between him and the inner door. He comes to an unexpected halt in a dancing-master's posture, removing his huge hat--which displays a tricolor plume of ostrich feathers--with a wide flourish, an intentional burlesque of the old-court manner._]

VALSIN. Permit me. [_He bows elaborately._] Be gracious to a recent fellow-traveler. I introduce myself. At your service: Valsin, Agent of the National Committee of Public Safety. [_He faces about sharply._] Soldiers! [_They stand at attention._] To the street door. I will conduct the examination alone. My assistant will wait on this floor, at the top of the stair. Send the people away down below there, officer. Look to the courtyard. Clear the streets. [_The officer salutes, gives a word of command, and the soldiers shoulder their muskets, march off, and are heard clanking down the stairs. VALSIN tosses his hat upon the desk, and turns smilingly to the trembling but determined MADAME DE LASEYNE._]

ANNE [_summoning her indignation_]. How dare you break down my door! How dare you force your--

VALSIN [_suavely_]. My compliments on the celerity with which the citizeness has completed her toilet. Marvelous. An example to her sex.

ANNE. You intend robbery, I suppose.

VALSIN [_with a curt laugh_]. Not precisely.

ANNE. What, then?

VALSIN. I have come principally for the returned Emigrant, Louis Valny-Cherault, formerly called Marquis de Valny-Cherault, formerly of the former regiment of Valny; also formerly--

ANNE [_cutting him off sharply_]. I do not know what you mean by all these names--and "formerlies"!

VALSIN. No? [_Persuasively._] Citizeness, pray assert that I did not encounter you last week on your journey from Paris--

ANNE [_hastily_]. It is true I have been to Paris on business; you may have seen me--I do not know. Is it a crime to return from Paris?

VALSIN [_in a tone of mock encouragement_]. It will amuse me to hear you declare that I did not see you traveling in company with Louis Valny-Cherault. Come! Say it.

ANNE [_stepping back defensively, closer to the inner door_]. I am alone, I tell you! I do not know what you mean. If you saw me speaking with people in the diligence, or at some posting-house, they were only traveling acquaintances. I did not know them. I am a widow--

VALSIN. My condolences. Poor, of course?

ANNE. Yes.

VALSIN. And lonely, of course? [_Apologetically._] Loneliness is in the formula: I suggest it for fear you might forget.

ANNE [_doggedly_]. I am alone.

VALSIN. Quite right.

ANNE [_confusedly_]. I am a widow, I tell you--a widow, living here quietly with--

VALSIN [_taking her up quickly_]. Ah--"with"! Living here alone, and also "with"--whom? Not your late husband?

ANNE [_desperately_]. With my niece.

VALSIN [_affecting great surprise_]. Ah! A niece! And the niece, I take it, is in your other room yonder?

ANNE [_huskily_]. Yes.

VALSIN [_taking a step forward_]. Is she pretty? [_ANNE places her back against the closed door, facing him grimly. He assumes a tone of indulgence._] Ah, one must not look: the niece, likewise, has not completed her toilet.

ANNE. She is--asleep.

VALSIN [_glancing toward the dismantled doorway_]. A sound napper! Why did you not say instead that she was--shaving? [_He advances, smiling._]

ANNE [_between her teeth_]. You shall not go in! You cannot see her! She is--

VALSIN [_laughing_]. Allow me to prompt you. She is not only asleep; she is ill. She is starving. Also, I cannot go in because she is an orphan. Surely, she is an orphan? A lonely widow and her lonely orphan niece. Ah, touching--and sweet!

ANNE [_hotly_]. What authority have you to force your way into my apartment and insult--

VALSIN [_touching his scarf_]. I had the honor to mention the French Republic.

ANNE. So! Does the French Republic persecute widows and orphans?

VALSIN [_gravely_]. No. It is the making of them!

ANNE [_crying out_]. Ah, horrible!

VALSIN. I regret that its just severity was the cause of your own bereavement, Citizeness. When your unfortunate husband, Andre, formerly known as the Prince de Laseyne--

ANNE [_defiantly, though tears have sprung to her eyes_]. I tell you I do not know what you mean by these titles. My name is Balsage.

VALSIN. Bravo! The Widow Balsage, living here in calm obscurity with her niece. Widow Balsage, answer quickly, without stopping to think. [_Sharply._] How long have you lived here?

ANNE. Two months. [_Faltering._]--A year!

VALSIN [_laughing_]. Good. Two months and a year! No visitors? No strangers?

ANNE. No.

VALSIN [_wheeling quickly and picking up LOUIS's cap from the dressing-table_]. This cap, then, belongs to your niece.

ANNE [_flustered, advancing toward him as if to take it_]. It was--it was left here this afternoon by our landlord.

VALSIN [_musingly_]. That is very, very puzzling. [_He leans against the dressing-table in a careless attitude, his back to her._]

ANNE [_cavalierly_]. Why "puzzling"?

VALSIN. Because I sent him on an errand to Paris this morning. [_She flinches, but he does not turn to look at her, continuing in a tone of idle curiosity._] I suppose your own excursion to Paris was quite an event for you, Widow Balsage. You do not take many journeys?

ANNE. I am too poor.

VALSIN. And you have not been contemplating another departure from Boulogne?

ANNE. No.

VALSIN [_still in the same careless attitude, his back toward her and the closed door_]. Good. It is as I thought: the portmanteau is for ornament.

ANNE [_choking_]. It belongs to my niece. She came only an hour ago. She has not unpacked.

VALSIN. Naturally. Too ill.

ANNE. She had traveled all night; she was exhausted. She went to sleep at once.

VALSIN. Is she a somnambulist?

ANNE [_taken aback_]. Why?

VALSIN [_indifferently_]. She has just opened the door of her room in order to overhear our conversation. [_Waving his hand to the dressing-table mirror, in which he had been gazing._] Observe it, Citizeness Laseyne.

ANNE [_demoralized_]. I do not--I--[_Stamping her foot._] How often shall I tell you my name is Balsage!

VALSIN [_turning to her apologetically_]. My wretched memory. Perhaps I might remember better if I saw it written: I beg a glance at your papers. Doubtless you have your certificate of citizenship--

ANNE [_trembling_]. I have papers, certainly.

VALSIN. The sight of them--