Ange Pitou by Alexandre Dumas part three

“Monsieur Billot,” said Pitou to him, “I long for Villers-Cotterets, do not you?”

These words, like the refreshing balm of calmness and virtue, aroused the farmer, whose vigor returned to him, and he pushed through the crowd, to get away at once from the scene of butchery.

“Come,” said he to Pitou, “you are right.”

And he at once determined on going to find Gilbert, who was residing at Versailles, but who, without having revisited the queen after the journey of the king to Paris, had become the right hand of Necker, who had been reappointed minister, and was endeavoring to organize prosperity by generalizing poverty.

Pitou had as usual followed Billot.

Both of them were admitted into the study in which the doctor was writing.

“Doctor,” said Billot, “I am going to return to my farm.”

“And why so?” inquired Gilbert.

“Because I hate Paris.”

“Ah, yes! I understand,” coldly observed Gilbert; “you are tired.”

“Worn out.”

“You no longer like the Revolution?”

“I should like to see it ended.”

Gilbert smiled sorrowfully.

“It is only now beginning,” he rejoined.

“Oh!” exclaimed Billot.

“That astonishes you, Billot?” asked Gilbert.

“What astonishes me the most is your perfect coolness.”

“My friend,” said Gilbert to him, “do you know whence my coolness proceeds?”

“It can only proceed from a firm conviction.”

“Precisely so.”

“And what is that conviction?”

“Guess.”

“That all will end well.”

Gilbert smiled still more gloomily than the first time.

“No; on the contrary, from the conviction that all will end badly.”

Billot cried out with astonishment.

As to Pitou, he opened his eyes to an enormous width; he thought the argument altogether illogical.

“Let us hear,” said Billot, rubbing his ear with his big hand,—”let us hear; for it seems to me that I do not rightly understand you.”

“Take a chair, Billot,” said Gilbert, “and sit down close to me.”

Billot did as he was ordered.

“Closer, closer still, that no one may hear but yourself.”

“And I, Monsieur Gilbert?” said Pitou, timidly, making a move towards the door, as if he thought the doctor wished him to withdraw.

“Oh, no! stay here,” replied the Doctor. “You are young; listen.”

Pitou opened his ears, as he had done his eyes, to their fullest extent, and seated himself on the floor at Father Billot’s feet.

This council was a singular spectacle, which was thus held in Gilbert’s study, near a table heaped up with letters, documents, new pamphlets, and newspapers, and within four steps of a door which was besieged by a swarm of petitioners, or people having some grievance to complain of. These people were all kept in order by an old clerk, who was almost blind, and had lost an arm.

“I am all attention,” said Billot. “Now explain yourself, my master, and tell us how it is that all will finish badly.”

“I will tell you, Billot. Do you see what I am doing at this moment, my friend?”

“You are writing lines.”

“But the meaning of those lines, Billot?”

“How would you have me guess that, when you know that I cannot even read them?”

Pitou timidly raised his head a little above the table, and cast his eyes on the paper which was lying before the doctor.

“They are figures,” said he.

“That is true,” said Gilbert; “they are figures, which are at the same time the salvation and the ruin of France.”

“Well, now!” exclaimed Billot.

“Well, now! well, now!” repeated Pitou.

“These figures, when they are presented to-morrow,” continued the doctor, “will go to the king’s palace, to the mansions of the nobility, and to the cottage of the poor man, to demand of all of them one quarter of their income.”

“Hey?” ejaculated Billot.

“Oh, my poor Aunt Angélique!” cried Pitou; “what a wry face she will make!”

“What say you to this, my worthy friend?” said Gilbert. “People make revolutions, do they not? Well, they must pay for them.”

“Perfectly just!” heroically replied Billot. “Well, be it so; it will be paid.”

“Oh, you are a man who is already convinced, and there is nothing to astonish me in your answers; but those who are not convinced?”

“Those who are not so?”

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