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CHAPTER IX.
AN END WORSE THAN DEATH
We should have been glad to have put aside, never to have spoken of him
again, this man who had borne for three years this most honorable title,
President of the National Assembly of France, and who had only known how
to be lacquey to the majority. He contrived in his last hour to sink
even lower than could have been believed possible even for him. His
career in the Assembly had been that of a valet, his end was that of a
scullion.
The unprecedented attitude that M. Dupin assumed before the gendarmes
when uttering with a grimace his mockery of a protest, even engendered
suspicion. Gambion exclaimed, "He resists like an accomplice. He knew
all."
We believe these suspicions to be unjust. M. Dupin knew nothing. Who
indeed amongst the organizers of the coup d'état would have taken the
trouble to make sure of his joining them? Corrupt M. Dupin? was it
possible? and, further, to what purpose? To pay him? Why? It would be
money wasted when fear alone was enough. Some connivances are secured
before they are sought for. Cowardice is the old fawner upon felony. The
blood of the law is quickly wiped up. Behind the assassin who holds the
poniard comes the trembling wretch who holds the sponge.
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