Alfred de Rosann by G.W.M. Reynolds — page 72: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Alfred de Rosann. oD One thing is, however, certain, that those who are faithful and dili- gent in au unknown cause, are well remunerated; and promises alone are not all the bait that is held out. Be secret, therefore, and wary; a single word to your comrades—and you never quit these walls alive. I tremble and am astonished at the same time, when 1 reflect on the vastness of that invisible power, which can watch over and control you, me, and thousands of others, and which yet appears to be an airy nothing, although vested with so terrible a reality of might and capacity. ‘© May I not enquire—” ‘‘ Nay—no more,’ interrupted Plombier, gently: ‘“‘ I am nearly as ignorant as yourself; ’tis an extensive free-masonry, which time will probably develop.—Adieu—and when you meet me in the bagne, whither my duties often lead me, take no notice of me.” Belle-Rose would have questioned the old man farther; but that venerable personage took him by the shoulders and gently pushed him out of the cabinet, whither De Rosann was almost immediately summoned to undergo the usual investigation. We need scarcely detail what passed between him and Plombier : suffice it to say, that Alfred presently issued from the office with a smile of satisfac- tion on his countenance, and a ray of hope illuminating his breast. Champignon was ushered into the little cabinet after De Rosann ; and finding himself confronted by an ill-looking old man, he began to tremble, fearful of being in the presence of the public execu- tioner. His face became as pale as death, his legs tottered under him, and his teeth chattered as if he were enveloped in ice. Plombier stared at this comical figure in astonishment, while Champignon fancied his last hour was come. 7 Well, my fine fellow—why do you not undress yourself ? ” ‘¢Undress myself! Good God—what have I done?” cried the wretched man, a cold sweat gathering on his forehead. ‘¢’You know best, I suppose,”’ returned Plombier. ‘‘ One thing is very certain: that you were not sent hither on account of your innocence.”’ ‘6 Alas! alas! Monsieur le Bourreau,’ * cried Champignon, ‘‘ spare me—spare me—for the love of God, spare me ‘” . ‘‘' Who the devil wants to touch you?” said the old man, quiver- -ing with indignation at having been taken for the public func- tionary of the guillotine. ‘‘ Make haste, and disencumber yourself of these clothes, that I may dispatch you as speedily as possible.” ‘¢ Dispatch me !—and so soon, too!” murmured Champignon, in a piteous tone of voice ; ‘‘ you could not kill the best cook in France before he has said his prayers! Oh, no!—I’m sure you could not: therefore, mercy !—mercy !” ‘‘T kill you, idiot!” thundered Plombier, stamping his foot upon the floor with rage : ‘¢‘ what put such a ridiculous idea into your ass’s head, I wonder? Get up, and let me examine your clothes, you unsaintly coward—you worthless thief !” ‘‘Oh! oh!” whispered the gastronomer, ‘“‘ then you are not going to kill me ?” * Bourreau, Executioner. COnicbooolks (GO)