“The day which I had foreseen has then arrived,” said he. “Thanks to you, my friends,—thanks to the eternal genius which watches over the liberty of nations!”
And he held out both his hands to the men who had assisted Billot to break down the door, and who, recognizing in him, from the dignity of his demeanor and his proud look, a man of superior genius, hardly dared to touch them.
On leaving the dungeon, he walked before all these men, leaning on Billot’s shoulder, and followed by Pitou and his liberators.
The first moment had been devoted by Gilbert to friendship and to gratitude, the second had re—established the distance which existed between the learned doctor and the ignorant farmer, the warm—hearted Pitou, and the whole throng which had liberated him.
When he reached the door at the foot of the staircase Gilbert stopped, on perceiving the broad sunshine which beamed full upon him. He paused, crossing his arms over his breast and raising his eyes to heaven. “Hail to thee, lovely Liberty!” he exclaimed. “I saw thee spring to life in another world, and we are old friends. Hail to thee, lovely Liberty!”
And the smile of the doctor clearly said that the cries he then heard of a whole people, inebriated with independence, were no new thing to him.
Then, meditating for a few seconds:—
“Billot,” said he, “the people, then, have vanquished despotism?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you came here to fight?”
“I came to liberate you.”
“You knew, then, of my arrest?”
“Your son informed me of it this morning.”
“Poor Sebastien! Have you seen him?”
“I have seen him.”
“And he remained quietly at his school?”
“I left him struggling with four of the attendants of the infirmary.”
“Is he ill—has he been delirious?”
“He wanted to come with us to fight.”
“Ah!” ejaculated the doctor, and a smile of triumph passed over his features. His son had proved himself to be what he had hoped.
“And what did you say to him?” inquired the doctor. “I said, since Doctor Gilbert is in the Bastille, let us take the Bastille; and now the Bastille is taken. But that is not all.”
“What is there, then, besides?” asked the doctor.
“The casket has been stolen.”
“The casket which I had confided to your care?”
“Yes.”
“Stolen! and by whom?”
“By some men dressed in black, who came into my house under the pretext of seizing your pamphlets: they arrested me, locked me up in a room; they searched the house all over, found the casket, and carried it off.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.”
“Ho! ho! there is an evident connection between my arrest and this robbery. The person who caused my arrest, at the same time had the casket stolen. Let me but know the persons who contrived my arrest, and I shall know who it was contrived the robbery. Where are the archives of the fortress” continued the doctor, turning to the jailer.
“In the courtyard of the government house, sir,” replied the jailer.
“Then to the archives, my friends—to the archives!” cried the doctor.
“Sir,” said the jailer, stopping him, “let me go with you, or speak a word in my favor to these worthy people, that no harm may happen to me.”
“Be it so,” said Gilbert.
Then, addressing the crowd who surrounded him, and gazed at him with curiosity mingled with respect:—
“My friends,” said he, “I recommend this worthy man to you; he only fulfilled his office in opening and shutting the prison doors; but he was kind towards the prisoners. Let no injury happen to him.”
“No, no!” cried the crowd with one accord, “no!—he need not fear; no harm shall be done to him. Let him come with us.”
“I thank you, sir,” said the jailer to the doctor; “but if you wish for anything in the archives, I advise you to move quickly, for I believe they are burning the papers.”
“Oh, then there is not an instant to be lost,” cried Gilbert; “to the archives!”
And he hastened towards the courtyard of the government house, followed by the crowd, at the head of which were still Billot and Pitou.