When they had gone in, Madame de Staël closed the door, and turning towards Gilbert:—
“Sir, in the name of humanity, I call upon you to tell me the secret which is so important to my father, and which has brought you to St. Ouen.”
“Madame,” said Gilbert, “if your father could now hear me, if he could but know that I am the man who sent the king the secret memoirs entitled, ‘Of the State of Ideas and of Progress,’ I am sure the Baron de Necker would immediately appear, and say to me, ‘Doctor Gilbert, what do you desire of me? Speak; I am listening.'”
Gilbert had hardly pronounced these words when a secret door which was concealed by a panel painted by Vanloo was noiselessly slid aside, and the Baron de Necker, with a smiling countenance, suddenly appeared, standing at the foot of a small, winding staircase, at the top of which could be perceived the dim rays of a lamp.
Then the Baroness de Staël courtesied to Gilbert, and kissing her father’s forehead, left the room by the same staircase which her father had just descended, and having closed the panel, she disappeared.
Necker advanced towards Gilbert, and gave him his hand, saying,—
“Here I am, Monsieur Gilbert; what do you desire of me? Speak, I am listening.”
They both seated themselves.
“Monsieur le Baron,” said Gilbert, “you have just heard a secret which has revealed all my ideas to you. It was I who, four years ago, sent an essay to the king on the general state of Europe; it is I who, since then, have sent him from the United States the various works he has received on all the questions of conciliation and internal administration which have been discussed in France.”
“Works of which his Majesty,” replied Monsieur de Necker, bowing, “has never spoken to me without expressing a deep admiration of them, though at the same time a profound terror at their contents.”
“Yes, because they told the truth. Was it not because the truth was then terrible to hear, and, having now become a fact, it is still more terrible to witness?”
“That is unquestionably true, sir,” said Necker.
“Did the king send these essays to you for perusal?” asked Gilbert.
“Not all of them, sir; only two: one on the subject of the finances—and you were of my opinion with a very few exceptions; but I nevertheless felt myself much honored by it.”
“But that is not all; there was one in which I predicted all the important events which have taken place.”
“Ah!”
“Yes.”
“And which of them, sir, I pray?”
“There were two in particular; one was that the king would find himself some day compelled to dismiss you, in consequence of some engagements he had previously entered into.”
“Did you predict my disgrace to him?”
“Perfectly.”
“That was the first event: what was the second?”
“The taking of the Bastille.”
“Did you predict the taking of the Bastille?”
“Monsieur le Baron, the Bastille was more than a royal prison, it was the symbol of tyranny. Liberty has commenced its career by destroying the symbol; the Revolution will do the rest.”
“Have you duly considered the serious nature of the words you have just uttered, sir?”
“Undoubtedly I have.”
“And you are not afraid to express such a theory openly?”
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid lest some misfortune should befall you.”
“Monsieur de Necker,” said Gilbert, smiling, ” after once having got out of the Bastille, a man has nothing more to fear.”
“Have you, then, come out of the Bastille?”
“This very day.”
“And why were you thrown into the Bastille?”
“I ought to ask you that question.”
“Ask me?”
“You, undoubtedly.”
“And why should you ask me?”
“Because it was you who caused my imprisonment there.”
“I had you thrown into the Bastille?”
“Six days ago; the date, as you see, is not so very remote that you should not be able to recollect it.”
“It is impossible.”
“Do you recognize your own signature?”
And Gilbert showed the ex-minister the leaf of the jail-book of the Bastille, and the lettre de cachet which was annexed to it.
“Yes,” said Necker, “that is doubtless the lettre de cachet. You know that I signed as few as possible, and that the smallest number possible was still four thousand annually; besides, at the moment of my departure, they made me sign several in blank. Your warrant of imprisonment, sir, must have been one of the latter.”