Behind
him, in the corner, sat the son of Marie Antoinette, humiliated,
still, and motionless. Yet, in spite of the injunction of Jeanne
Marie, he had turned around, and was looking toward the bed; but not
to the knitter of the guillotine were his looks directed, but to
this venerable old gentleman with his powdered peruke, his satin
coat, silk stockings, breeches, shoe-buckles, gold embroidered
waistcoat and lace ruffles. This costume reminded him of the past;
the halls of Versailles came back to him, and he saw before him the
shadowy figures of the cavaliers of that time, all clothed like the
dear old gentleman who was sitting before the bed there.
"Why do you look at me in such a wondering way, Citizen Simon?"
asked Naudin, who was now through with his examination.
"I really wonder--I really do wonder immensely," said Simon, "and
that is saying much, for, in these times, when there are so many
changes, a man can hardly wonder at any thing. Still I do wonder,
Citizen Naudin, that you can venture to go around in this costume.
That is the style of clothing worn by traitorous ci-devants and
aristocrats. Anybody else who dare put it on would have only one
more walk to take, that to the guillotine, and yet you venture to
come here!"
"Venture?" repeated Naudin, with a shrug. "I venture nothing,
citizen.
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