re of all his teachings and his hopes? What would this be but to
embitter his reflections needlessly. Such were the specious reasons with
which I fed my self-love, and satisfied my conscience; but now, as I
read his name in that terrible catalogue, their plausibility served me
no longer, and at last I forgot myself to remember only him.

'I will see him at once,' thought I, 'whatever it may cost me--I will
stay beside him for his last few hours of life; and when he carries
with him from this world many an evil memory of shame and treachery,
ingratitude from me shall not increase the burthen.' And with this
resolve I turned my steps homeward.

CHAPTER III. THE 'TEMPLE'

At the time of which I write, there was but one motive principle
throughout France--'Terror.' By the agency of terror and the threat
of denunciation was everything carried on, not only in the public
departments of the state, but in all the common occurrences of everyday
life. Fathers used it towards their children--children towards their
parents; mothers coerced their daughters--daughters, in turn, braved the
authority of their mothers. The tribunal of public opinion, open to all,
scattered its decrees with a reckless cruelty--denying to-day what
it had decreed but yesterday, and at last obliterating every trace of
'right' or 'principle' in a people who now only lived for the passing
hour, and who had no faith in the future, even of this world.

Among the very children at play, this horrible doctrine had gained a
footing: the tyrant urchin, whose ingenuity enabled him to terrorise,
became the master of his playfellows. I was not slow in acquiring the
popular education of the period, and soon learned that fear was a 'Bank'
on which one might draw at will. Already the domineering habit had given
to my air and manner all the insolence of seeming power, and, while a
mere boy in years, I was a man in all the easy assumption of a certain
importance.

It was with a bold and resolute air I entered the restaurant, and
calling Boivin aside, said--

'I have business in the Temple this morning, Boivin; see to it that I
shall not be denied admittance.'

'I am not governor of the gaol,' grunted Boivin sulkily, 'nor have I the
privilege to pass any one.'

'But your boys have the entree; the "rats" (so were they called) are
free to pass in and out.'

'Ay, and I'm responsible for the young rascals, too, and for anything
that may be laid to their charge.'