The next day the inspectors gave a report of this occurrence,
couched in terms of worthy indignation, and all hearts were stirred
with righteous anger at the story of the automaton that sang the
royal aria, and of the living bird that wore the badge of an order
about its neck. They were convinced that the secret royalists were
connected with this thing, and it was registered in the communal
acts as "the conspiracy of the canary-bird."
The little winged conspirators, the automaton as well as the living
birds, were of course instantly removed from the Temple; and Simon
had the double vexation of receiving a reprimand from the
authorities, and then the losing his little merry companions from
the prison. It was all the fault of this little, good-for-nothing
boy, who knew how to make long faces, and allowed himself to waken
and disturb his master in the night by his crying and sobbing.
"The worthless viper has spoiled my sleep for me," growled Simon the
next morning. "My head is as heavy as a bomb, and I shall have to
take a foot-bath, to draw the blood away from my ears."
Jeanne Marie silently carried her husband the leaden foot-bath, with
the steaming water, and then drew back into the corner, in whose
dismal shadow she often sat for hours, gazing idly at her "calendar
of the revolution," the long stocking, on which traces of the blood
of the queen were still visible.
Pages:
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643