“Sir,” said De Launay in his turn, throwing his head back with a haughty air, “you may perhaps acknowledge two kings; but I, the governor of the Bastille, know but one, and he is Louis, the Sixteenth of that name, who has affixed his name to a commission by virtue of which I command here, both men and things.”
“You are not, then, a citizen!” cried Billot in anger.
“I am a French gentleman,” said the governor.
“Ah! that is true; you are a soldier, and you speak as a soldier.”
“You have said the word, sir,” said De Launay, bowing. “I am a soldier, and I execute the orders I receive.”
“And I, sir,” said Billot, “am a citizen, and my duty as a citizen being in opposition with your orders as a soldier, one of us two will die,—whether it be the one who obeys his orders, or the one who fulfils his duty.”
“It is probable, sir.”
“Then you are determined to fire upon the people?”
“By no means—so long as they do not fire upon me.
I have pledged my word to the envoys of Monsieur de Flesselles. You see that the guns have been drawn in, but at the first shot fired from the square upon my castle—”
“Well, at the first shot?”
“I will run to one of these guns,—this one, for instance,—I will myself wheel it to the embrasure, I will point it with my own hands, and I will fire it with the match you see standing here.”
“You?”
“Yes, I.”
“Oh, if I believed that,” said Billot, “before allowing you to commit such a crime—”
“I have told you that I am a soldier, sir, and that I know nothing but my orders.”
“Well, then, look!” said Billot, drawing De Launay towards an embrasure, and pointing out to him alternately two different points, the Faubourg St. Antoine and the Boulevard, “yonder are those from whom in future you will receive your orders.”
And he showed De Launay two dark, dense, and howling masses, who, compelled to take the form of the Boulevards, undulated like an immense serpent, of which the head and the body could be seen, but the last rings of which were lost to sight, from the unevenness of the ground on which it crawled; and all that could be seen of the gigantic reptile was refulgent with luminous scales.
It was the double troop, to which Billot had given rendezvous on the square of the Bastille,—the one led by Marat, and the other by Gonchon.
On both sides they advanced, brandishing their arms and uttering the most terrific cries.
De Launay turned pale at the sight, and raising his cane:—
“To your guns!” cried he.
Then, advancing towards Billot with a threatening gesture:—
“And you, wretch!” he exclaimed, “you who have come here under the pretext of parleying with me while the others are advancing to the attack, do you know that you deserve to die?”
And he half drew his sword from the cane which concealed it.
Billot saw the movement, and, rapid as the lightning, seized De Launay by the collar and the waistband.
“And you,” said he, as he raised him from the ground, “you deserve that I should hurl you over the ramparts, to dash you in pieces against the sides of the ditch! But, God be thanked! I shall fight you in another manner!”
At that moment an immense and universal clamor, ascending from below, and rushing through the air like the wild howlings of the hurricane, reached their ears, and Monsieur de Losme, the major of the Bastille, appeared upon the platform.
“Sir,” cried he, addressing himself to Billot, “sir, be pleased to show yourself; all those people yonder believe that some misfortune has befallen you, and they are calling for you.”
And in fact the name of Billot, which had been spread among the crowd by Pitou, was heard amidst the clamor.
Billot had loosed his hold, and Monsieur de Launay sheathed his sword.
Then there was a momentary hesitation between these three men; while cries calling for vengeance, and threatening shouts were heard.
“Show yourself then, sir,” said De Launay: “not that these clamors intimidate me, but that it may be known that I am a man who loyally keeps his word.”