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He was a young man with a fair beard, wearing a blue blouse, and who had
the gentle bearing of a thinker and the robust hands of a workman.
"
Who are you?" I asked him.
He answered,--"I belong to the Society of the Last-makers. I know you
very well, Citizen Victor Hugo."
"From whom do you come?" I resumed.
He answered still in a whisper,--
"
From Citizen King."
Very good," said I.
"
He then told me his name. As he has survived the events of the night of
the 4th, and as he since escaped the denunciations, it can be understood
that we will not mention his name here, and that we shall confine
ourselves to terming him throughout the course of this story by his
trade, calling him the "last-maker."[27]
"
What do you want to say to me?" I asked him.
He explained that matters were not hopeless, that he and his friends
meant to continue the resistance, that the meeting-places of the
Societies had not yet been settled, but that they would be during the
evening, that my presence was desired, and that if I would be under the
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