st! I was searched, and these were found upon me.

[_Showing a crucifix and rosary_.]

This was enough. I was immediately condemned to die.

GOUROC.

A fine fool you were, to be caught with such baubles in your bosom.
Had you forgotten old mother Dupaix?

MARDOCHE.

The old woman who never gossiped, wore clean linen, and kept four
cats?

GOUROC.

The same--who was therefore accused of being a Duchess in disguise,
and sent to the guillotine.

MARDOCHE.

Moral:--In this age of reason, death to him who prays!

GOUROC.

Or keeps four cats! But cheer up, Citizen; I have a crumb of comfort
for you yet. In your cell someone is waiting impatiently to see you.

MARDOCHE.

Who?

GOUROC.

Your sister.

MARDOCHE.

Great heavens! Of what do they accuse her?

GOUROC.

Nothing. She is here by my care to bid you farewell.--Listen and
understand.--You are going to die, and leave your sister in poverty
amidst the perils of the Republic.--What would you be willing to do to
provide her with an independence?

MARDOCHE.

I would do anything. I can do nothing.

GOUROC.

You are mistaken. If you choose, before you die, you can place in her
hands 10,000 francs.

MARDOCHE.

How?

GOUROC.

By helping me to save another man's life.

MARDOCHE.

I do not understand.

GOUROC.

The Due de Beaumont has been discovered, and is about to be condemned.
For reasons of my own, I wish to save his life. There is but one way.
You, who are destined to die soon, must be disguised as the Duke,
answer to his name, and go to the scaffold in his stead. Consent to
do this--and you shall place in your sister's hands 10,000 francs in
gold.

MARDOCHE.

What! That Jacobin of Jacobins, Gouroc, asks a cobbler to save a
Duke--?

GOUROC.

Why not? The Republic is poor, the Duke is rich. He has been condemned
for our glory. But if his secret escape will bring us gold, why
not crown the Republic with riches as well as fame? Is not this
Patriotism?

MARDOCHE.

Yes, Patriotism to-day! Yesterday and to-morrow--Jesuitism.

GOUROC.

Well, your answer. Will you save the Duke?

MARDOCHE.

[_After a pause_.]

I will.

GOUROC.

Good! In your cell you'll find everything for your disguise.

MARDOCHE.

[_As howls are heard outside_.]

Listen.--That is the voice of fraternity shrieking for fratricide!

GOUROC.

By heaven! No cobbler talks as you do!--Who are you? Wha