疯狂与荣耀:(15,16,17):自由
这是一部历史小说.
第15章
Lalladiere躺在房子主房间一角的简易席子上.他和他的兄弟(曾在童年时代去世)曾经共享的一间小房间现在被装满了用于Roliot有限但可维持生命的木制工具制造业务的设备.躺在那儿，拉拉迪尔(Lalladiere)陷入被追逐，大型尸体隐约可见并在他身上摩擦，坐在餐桌旁吃咸稀饭的画面的困扰.凝视的眼睛.最终，他睡着了，几个小时后醒来，紧张地意识到街上传来不规则的声音.然后，他用力的敲打试图消除紧张感，但又回到那所房子里，无法这样做.
白天，他迅速而又贪婪地吃了摆在他面前的稀疏食物.进餐后，他无声地坐在桌子上的直木椅上，或者curl缩在房间角落的地板上，看着他的母亲在不看他的情况下在房子周围移动.他唯一听到的声音是他的母亲和她的丈夫Roliot的声音，经常大声提起他在那儿的声音.罗里奥特抱怨自己的行为很奇怪，他的言语和信仰有限但令人发指地疯狂，最重要的是，他消耗了少量的食物.他说，他甚至尝试过几次与拉拉迪尔谈谈被处决.向他询问了他如何到达那里，看到了什么，但除了阴谋的令人毛骨悚然的答复外，什么也没收到.玛农交替尖叫着，抱怨着儿子病了，或者违背了他的意愿.他需要在那里休息，要安全.有时，她可疑地补充说，人们或神灵可能正在注视着所有人，或者徘徊在房子周围，试图也占有它们.罗里奥特(Roliot)以为自己正在走极端之一，或者被儿子激怒.
拉拉迪尔(Lalladiere)来到屋子后的第四天，早上独自出门.他没有说他要去哪里，也没有透露他是否会回来.站在门附近，他们俩都看着他一言不发地离开.玛农的脸冷漠无表情.尽管她坚持要生病或有儿子的孩子需要安全，但她还是看到他走了，不再考虑可能发生的事情.
拉拉迪埃(Lalladiere)缓慢地走过熟悉的街道，经过的人比那天来的人少.他抬起头，直视前方，但迅速侧身瞥了一眼他所经过的每个人.任何人都可能是追求者，酷刑者，针对他的阴谋家.提防蠕虫，腐败和粘液.他们来接你.他母亲的房子里异常安静，尽管紧张，却没有雷鸣般的声音，结束了.
他将逃生路线追溯到革命广场.现在不是拼命比赛，距离似乎更短.但是在广场上，他在广阔的地方感到不自在和孤独.以前围着他，让他感到匿名的大批人群被嘈杂的声音所取代，但散布着许多动人的人群.有几辆手推车，一辆大货车，两个骑着马的人，以及一些曲折的助行器.拥挤的死亡剧院现在是一个开放，整洁的空间，可以自由活动，繁琐的选择路线和方向的自由.
他不确定该怎么办.他一动不动地站在桥附近，并考虑去找让·吕克.回到桥上，他可以迅速地穿过小巷，转至男孩住的地方.不，他想，那天他还没出来去让·卢克.他的脑海里隐隐隐约有一个秘密.一个沉重的秘密.他对秘密非常了解，这些秘密已深深地藏在他体内.他看过秘密的事情，做过秘密的事情，然后把它们藏起来.但是这个秘密不一样，这就是他那天早上离开房子的原因.他必须继续.
他进入了国家街(rue Nationale)，然后变成了行尸走肉路线遍及的奥诺雷(rueHonoré)街.这位前女王死后的念头已从他的脑海中抹去.尽管一直充满着被杀的想法，有时甚至是杀死别人的想法，这使他充满了意识，但他无法让人想起一个死者.死亡是一种折磨，是一种惩罚，而不是现实.时间的流逝，结局是压倒性的.他根本想不起来.
他要去的房子在奥诺雷街(rueHonoré)上.罗里奥特(Roliot)曾试图让他谈论处决时，提到那辆房子在马车上.听到这些，拉拉迪尔知道他必须去那里.不得不警告里面的人.
为您的工作做好准备.弥补你所做的.这是您弥补的机会.时间到了，蠕虫就消除了危害，带来了恶性危害.只有您可以保存它.您必须告诉秘密，消除伤害.成为救世主.你注定是真正的救世主.救星.保存.萨维救世主.
他穿过了一个小百货商店的窗户，上面展示着几根整齐地堆叠着的螺栓；一个面包店，架子上放着稀疏的面包；一个杂货店，上面放着大蒜盒，上面放着酒和白兰地的招牌；一个家具制造商的玻璃门前.店背后是一片空荡荡的黑暗.大街上有辆半满的手推车，贩卖蔬菜，甘草水，小橘子或盐.巴黎人并不像以前那样拥挤不堪，但仍然充满了活动，这条巴黎大街上的步行者和车辆坚决往返.伴随着令人窒息和指挥的声音，他听到了激烈的交谈声，间断的叫喊声以及商务和社会交往的喧嚣声.
他经过更多的商店，直到来到皇家宫附近的地区，那里的人们和运动变得稀缺.当他接近巨大的围墙时，奇怪的是他几乎完全独自一人在街上.一个女人从附近的一个入口飞跃而出.她转身看到了他，毫不犹豫地直接朝他走去.身着紧身的薰衣草前开slit和衬裙露出的裙子，她大笑，摇曳，并有些发呆.紧随其后的是另一位女士突然出现，她穿着的衣服只有颜色，没有款式.她也冒着气泡，走路时跳着跳.他们在一起，很快就走近了拉拉迪尔.
另一个女人从入口出来，再来两个.所有人都在笑，一个人在尖叫.显然是沉迷，有些人以咀嚼动作动着嘴巴，他们以一种不协调的舞蹈前进.向前，向后，向一侧迈出一步，然后略微跳跃.向前，向前，向侧面，向侧面，以幻灯片结尾.摇动，摇摆，跳过，跳过.这位穿着薰衣草的女人先是到达了他身边，在其他人围拢他的同时向附近摇曳.当他们从一个松散形成的圆圈中跳来跳去时，他们继续以不断增加的能量跳舞.
当她摇晃时，她诱人地靠近他，握住他的手，并在他的手掌上放了一块类似棕色的油条状蛋糕.然后，她拉着他的另一只手臂，开始带领他走向皇家宫殿的入口.他向后猛地抽动自己，感觉到自己的动作，她紧紧抓住了他的手臂.当他再次试图离开时，她竭尽全力将他的手臂向外拉.拉拉迪尔的痛苦令人难以忍受.尽管她处于沉迷，昏迷的状态，但她仍然具有非凡的力量.片刻之后，他另一边的一位穿着红色，摇摇欲坠的跳舞女人走近了，将蛋糕从放在他手中的地方拉了出来，然后塞进了他的嘴里.尽管他拒绝了，但他可以说这有点多汁，尝到了苦乐参半.
这个女人充满了疯狂的兴奋之力，还用力抓住了手臂，现在把他放在小齿轮的位置上，她用指节将蛋糕进一步推入.另一个女人走在另外两个女人的前面，然后双手嘲笑着抚摸他的脸颊.突然，她把手指伸到他的下巴角上，然后将两个拇指都放到他的嘴里，试图让他吞下蛋糕.还有两个仍然笑着，摇着摇晃，头晕目眩的人跪在他的身边，开始拉扯他的生殖器.
他试图抵制c的痛苦抚摸和嘴巴令人窒息的压力.他召集了所有的力量，试图打，摇，踢，咬女人的拇指，但所有这些都继续以比他所知道的更大的决心来抓住.甚至来自庇护人员.
他发出咯咯的尖叫声，但没人来阻止他们.他再次尝试，一阵痛苦的哀ail，没有成功.然后，当他的嘴被张开到咬合点时，手臂痛苦地绷紧，生殖器因疼痛而萎缩，妇女突然停下来放开.他们仍然笑着入迷，转身跳了跳.所有人一起跳舞回到它们出现的通道中.没有人回头.在短暂的时间里，它们消失了.
当拉拉迪尔独自一人站着，摇晃自己以恢复头部和四肢的能量和运动时，大街上两个单独的步行者好奇地看着他.他们是否注意到发生了什么事?他们是否曾经见过皇家宫殿(Palais Royale)的妓女，所以像平常的狂欢狂欢一样，发生了什么?每次继续走动.
Lalladiere站了几分钟，在他后面和前面的空荡荡的街道上搜寻.
更多即将到来.小心.小心.他们放火烧死你.
他不确定是否继续.吸毒的妇女在引诱他.不，不是这样，他们通过施加痛苦来警告他.他们来自世界某个地方的某个地方，与他在一起，崇拜和惩罚他，警告他.尽管如此，他还是决心放弃这个秘密.他又开始了，不得不继续前进.立即保存Danton，无论如何都保存所有内容.他揉着胳膊和腿，摇了摇自己，然后不稳定地走着.尽管他感到了片刻的痛苦和恐惧，但他并没有瘫痪，会继续抵抗和战斗.他们可能会试图找到他，但他会找到办法.
那是阴暗的日子，没有阴影，甚至没有一丝阳光.没有眩光，他就能清楚地看到周围的一切.他继续超越皇家宫.抬头.看，他们在看.在上面一所房子的开着的窗户上，他看到一个女人低头看着他，脸上带着嘲笑的尖刻轮廓.他畏缩了.尽管他的遭遇继续使他感到疼痛，但他还是试图走得更快.在这条街的更远处，他来到一家布料店，里面有一个穿着黑夹克的老板和一个穿着黄色衣服的女人，也许是顾客，站在外面，朝他张望.
他颤抖地到达了下一街.越来越多的人来回走动，在他们中间，他感到更加安全.但这随时可能会改变.盯着他，威胁着他，转过身来.当他走路时，其他忙于自己事务的人走进了街上.没有人注意他.考虑到这一点，他的焦虑变成了荒凉和孤独.他被人包围着，意识到自己被割断了，一个人呆着.但是，这种空虚比阴谋者追求的更好，或者比吸毒妇女的危险关注要好.有时，当他意识到自己笼罩的孤独感，向往甚至悲伤时，就会少见恐惧和愤怒的爆发.并且实际上减少了喧嚣声.
这是什么，他感到孤独吗?有一天，他会多想一想，试图去理解它.它是孤立而孤独的，拥有无数自己的思想，每天都在做自己的动作吗?产品和责任没有其他人，没有其他人吗?人性，缺陷和脆弱，而没有其他人能感觉到自己的想法，思想，没有人可以改变残暴，完全消除伤害或避免个人灭绝，即使凭着意志，爱或最纯正的意图.当这种孤独感(他后来将学习可以成为一种充实的充实，对能力的骄傲)仅表现为痛苦，可怕的现实时，就变成了腐烂的孤独.
寂寞伴随着不完美，绝望，努力失败，痛苦.最好避免它，什么都不感觉，不要成为人.甚至在安全思想开始之前，就尽一切努力就开始全力以赴.有一天，不断有警惕，看到动不动的情节，听到谴责的声音.
“好公民，"一个人在对拉拉迪尔讲话时说道，“你能给盲人送个礼物吗?"
为了安全起见，拉拉迪埃(Lalladiere)靠近街道上的建筑物，偶然发现了为他服务的那名男子的伸出的脚.那个乞one的人，一只眼睛戴着大眼罩，被缩在角落附近的墙上.没有完全失明，他夸大了自己的不幸.拉拉迪尔恢复了平衡，站了一下，低头看着那个男人.
“请向市民求助.只是一个sou."
那人用柔和，友善的声音说话.尽管位置拥挤，但拉拉迪尔仍然可以看出他肩膀宽阔而结实，穿着略微磨损的直腿裤和宽松的布衬衫.
“我可以告诉你，你是一个有钱的好人.请给我点什么?"
拉拉迪埃(Lalladiere)刚进医院时就戴上了他的膝盖马裤.尽管在长期使用和在逃亡期间攀爬的地方会磨损和撕裂，但这种衣服目前被认为是精英人士.他看了几分钟.他身上有些让人放心的声音，亲切的声音，残疾的大绿巨人ed缩在人行道上.拉拉迪尔伸手从口袋里掏出钱来，一直小心翼翼地一直陪着他，向乞several递了几枚硬币.
“有危险，"拉拉迪尔说. “我必须去那所房子.为了警告.这所房子是大人居住的地方."
“有什么好人的，公民?您在Honoré街上.您在找谁?"乞be说，当他迅速把钱装在口袋里时.
“同情者". Lalladiere指出了广为人知的标记，好像每个音节都有特殊的意义.
“啊，罗伯斯庇尔市民.是的，他住在这里，在几条街上.在那边."当他指向更远的方向时，他站起来抬起身，紧紧面对拉拉迪尔.这个人很大，当他缩在建筑物上时还没有完全显现出来.他的身高比拉拉迪尔高一英尺多，他的肌肉周长是如此之大，以至于似乎包围了他.
他裸露的眼睛略微鼓起，迅速地从上到脚仔细检查了Lalladiere.他向外伸出一只手，将头向一侧snap去，表示要向拉拉迪尔展示路.
“这条街是戴眼镜的好地方."他和地说. “前一天，奥地利的妓女翻滚了.昨天，大车上载着二十个叛徒.你是哪里人，公民?当然不是从巴黎来的.你今天来这里了吗?"
“我来自比塞特."对于拉拉迪尔来说，乞he虽然大，却显得特别友善，甚至在他们走路时也很保护.
“从监狱庇护?那将是一件快乐的事.我敢打赌，他们还没有从去年的屠杀中吸走所有的血.怎么了，你逃走了吗?"
“那里有很多战争."
“是的，我敢打赌，这是一场艰辛的斗争.我听说他们每天都殴打囚犯，无论他们是否做任何事情.保持一致.但是他们杀死了那个地方的所有贵族，你怎么还在那里?"
“仍然在那里.偷领巾.斯塔瓦拉特.不是贵族."
“那么，你真有趣，是吗?"乞g说，他裸露的眼睛古怪地凝视着拉拉迪尔. “你可能不想说出来，但是我可以告诉你，即使你的马t有些磨破，你还是很有钱的."
Lalladiere一言不发，毫无表情地走着.
“好的.别生气但是，周围的每个雅克和弗朗索瓦都没有去拜访罗伯斯庇尔副议员.他将变得非常非常高.也很受欢迎，不是吗?如果您没有逃脱比塞特尔(Bicêtre)的事-您一点都没有给我任何启示-现在您将要见到罗伯斯庇尔本人，您也必须是一个非常重要的人."
“非常重要" –拉拉迪尔曾经听说过有关他自己的话.看来，那是与传道人的永恒.但是这些话永远不会再适用于他.
蠕虫.最差比最低的最低.没有希望.没有什么.你不可能没有人的友谊.
“离这里很近.有一条小路可以转向房屋.我给你看，"乞g说.他正向拉拉迪尔(Lalladiere)靠近，低头看着他，并隐藏着凶恶而a昧的微笑.
第16章
Saint-Just向内政委员会投诉，据了解他逃脱了比克特(Bicêtre)囚犯.负责人库恩(Couthon)将机构管理不善通知皮涅尔(Pinel)博士和州长普辛(Pussin)，并警告其采取官方行动.体罚，连锁，大量使用物理治疗的政策在巴黎医院中是标准的.政府将在一定程度上允许理性发展，但他们不会容忍来自比塞特的疯狂游荡.
皮涅尔(Pinel)很担心.政府中如此高涨的官方行动可能会导致其重要的治疗政策被制止，并带来不满，危险和绝望.但他也担心自己的病人拉拉迪耶.他认为拉拉迪尔已经开始好转，并担心逃脱表明他正遭受挫折，导致自杀，伤害性行动或永久性精神错乱.他敦促总督尽一切努力找到拉拉迪尔，并将其送回庇护所.服务员被派往Rochereau房屋两次，白天一次询问Jean-Luc和他的母亲Suzette，搜寻周围区域，包括屋顶和小巷，并询问邻居他们所见的事物.第二次，他们在工作后第二天晚上去和罗切罗(ThéoRochereau)商谈，同时探究拉拉迪尔是否在黑暗的掩护下返回了该地区.任何时候都没有关于他下落的任何线索.
现在已分别将分别被送往Rochereaus的Denis和Georges返回革命广场.没有预定的执行程序，它比以前少了很多拥挤.他们两个仔细地搜索了周围的出口和通道，修筑了裂缝和缝隙，然后向下走到塞纳河的边界.回来后，他们散开相当长的距离，进入了从地方辐射出来的大街.在河的两边，他们停在宪兵那里并询问.据报道，没有与任何看起来像拉拉迪尔的人相遇.
丹尼斯(Denis)试图把自己放在拉拉迪尔(Lalladiere)的位置，想想他做了什么，他可能去了哪里.这个人尽管有种种疯狂，却很机智而机智.他发现了迅速在屋顶上移动的方法，根据罗切洛人的报告，他被困在一个奇怪的地方，像是次子裂口，没有任何舒适感，甚至连几天都没有食物.他很坚强，在必须被克制时总是会努力奋斗.但是他并非没有专心致志，显然对那个善待他的男孩产生了依恋，后来又跟随他一直到革命广场.他没有在那儿引起骚动，没有抓住那个男孩，而是难以置信地在拥挤的人群中耕作，向其中一位重要代表报告.关于什么?也许他突然间有了重新获得政府职位的想法.这位疯子感到不快，这是一个真正的挑战.
丹尼斯(Denis)决定遵循与政府重新建立联系的直觉，并要求乔治(Georges)跟随他前往国民大会召开的前皇家骑术学校.他认为，他们可能会发现Lalladiere徘徊在那儿捉住另一名代表，或者与他认识的人一起躲藏.但是，在花费大量时间监视该地区，询问警卫，工作人员甚至路人之后，他们都没有成功.
“在任何地方都找不到他的踪迹，"丹尼斯在回来时向州长普辛(Pussin)报告.
“什么都没有?"
“已消失".
"Zout，我以为我们要和这个人在一起.他努力工作，坚持不懈地算计.他是一个稳固的公民，以前是爱国者.我没想到他会再跑.一点也不."他停顿了一下，然后信任丹尼斯，他补充说:“政府对我们不满他."
“如果真的很重要，那该如何去认识我们认识的任何熟人?他可能去过的任何家庭?"
“我相信是一位母亲，"州长对丹尼斯的参与表示赞赏. “我没有想到她，因为她从未来过他.不是一次.但是我会在记录中寻找她的名字.另一方面，她可能住在各省的某个地方，而不是巴黎."
“足够正确".
“这个拉拉迪尔人是一个棘手的人.他能够采取野蛮的行动.一直到前女王被处决为止，一直使那些政府代表真正努力起来.谁知道他下一步将做什么?"
Denis离开房间后，Pussin摇了摇头.从长期的经验来看，他知道不会期望每个囚犯都能对自己的工作计划做出良好的反应，但是他对Lalladiere的失职感到失望和愤怒，这是对信任的背叛.不仅如此，他为自己的错误判断而生自己的气.他在比塞特(Bicêtre)患了结核性病之前就已经接受了很多年的治疗，但他一直待着成为一名服务员，自学成才，并逐渐成为该机构的州长.他和他的妻子玛格丽特(Marguerite)多年来学到了很多东西，知道如何变得坚定和关怀，共同开发了用于管理和帮助大量囚犯的技术，这让他感到自豪.在他们的时期，有许多逃生路线，但比其他庇护所少得多.大多数人很快被围捕并带回来.他担心这次事件在最近两次较近期的逃逸之后，可能会带来政府干预，从而影响其计划的所有部分.这个比塞特尔逃犯在政府代表中工作是很麻烦的.医生正在推进工作程序，他们的人道待遇和解脱，但即使是像皮涅尔博士这样的好医生，他也是一位远见卓识，富有同情心的人，在当前的压力下，他可能会退缩.他们必须找到Lalladiere并将其归还.
在Honoré街上，Lalladiere继续追随温和的独眼乞be.眼下头脑清醒，他质疑自己想做什么.该任务对任何人，他或任何人的生命乃至革命都有什么目的?他通过一个虚无的状态听到了塔利恩和巴拉斯的秘密阴谋.与Robespierre搭,，与Danton搭down.杀死丹顿，杀死罗伯斯庇尔.就像孩子们都在墙上玩的游戏一样.看看谁能爬，然后用石头打他.看着他下来并追赶他们.他总是被打，永远无法避免那些坚决投掷的石头.当他尝试尴尬的飞行时，他们笑了起来，嘲笑了.
那现在有什么好处呢?没有人听他的话，没有人会相信或关心他:“不，"他屏住呼吸对自己说，“这是我们的革命，他-我-会保存下来，放弃秘密.克服.让毫无疑虑的罗伯斯庇尔(Robespierre)知道，起来，起来，拯救光荣的领导人，丹顿(Danton)人民和自由罗伯斯庇尔(Robospierre)的拥护者.保存一切.
他的心转移了，雾气又回来了.尖叫声刺穿了它.
有害的.污秽和腐败.您将永远不会保存任何东西.尝试拯救自己.他轻轻摇了摇头.
永远不会.绝不.绝不.他更加剧烈地摇了摇头.最低价最低.卑鄙的邪恶.他们会得到你的.他们会得到你的.你不会做任何事情或说什么.
他颤抖着向后推头.乞be在他身边，转向他，用他运转中的眼睛盯着他. “好公民，我能为您做些什么吗?您患上寒战了吗?"
“从寒冷开始，最低到最低，最卑鄙的卑鄙."
“哦，真倒霉.好吧，我们很快就会到那儿.是的，我们现在马上走到一边."
乞g以巨大的身躯向狭窄的小巷移动时，他靠近拉拉迪尔，几乎将他包裹住.拉拉迪尔立即向同一方向旋转，以免被推.
“就这样，"这位大个子说着，走得更近了.
他们进入了胡同，这是两座灰色石头建筑之间的狭窄通道.光线昏暗，几乎没有阳光进入高墙之间狭窄的开口.再往内走几步，在他们后面的大街上看不到它们，也看不见任何东西. Lalladiere突然感到自己侧向推向一面平坦的硬墙，他的下巴向上抽动，头顶被钉住.乞g将他的上半身压在他身上，把他压在冰冷的石头上.由于推力的作用，拉拉迪尔屏住了呼吸，拼命地抽空着空气，因为那个人撕破了马裤的口袋.他竭力想腾出腿踢脚.但是乞be察觉到了动作的开始，将膝盖抬到拉拉迪尔的大腿上.另一种尝试用另一只脚踢.乞g用沉重的球茎状的膝盖将其截断，直接伸入Lalladiere的腹股沟.拉拉迪耶(Lalladiere)痛苦不堪，两腿之间开始产生一种令人难以置信的空心感觉，并向上渗透到他的身体中，然后跌倒在地.乞g向后移动，让他跌倒，巧妙地推着一只肩膀，确保他朝前.
拉拉迪尔在扭动时，乞the搜寻他外套的口袋，只发现少量硬币和纸币.他厌恶地run咕着，扯开衣服，寻找下面的东西. Lalladiere的背心或衬裙没有任何东西，但是当他用手沿着外套的内部走动时，他发现了一个松散缝制的口袋，里面装有大量纸张.他撕开了线，拉出了纸，令他惊讶的是，里面有前国王的印章和签名的文件.在昏暗的灯光下，他将它靠近一只眼睛，试图确定它是什么以及它是否有价值.
拉拉迪埃(Lalladiere)看到了乞s的分心，他尽快地将自己从巨大的身体下面滚了下来.他顶着附近的建筑物作为支撑，痛苦地站了起来.该名男子立即转过身来抓住他.面对危险，Lalladiere变得更加敏锐，他很快意识到，只有乞gar完全挡住了返回的路，唯一的逃生就是要进一步进入通道.他跑开了，开始逃跑.乞be尽管很大，但脚步却非常快.迈出几步，他超越了Lalladiere，再次将他推向墙壁.但是这次，拉拉迪尔得以保持双手放松.他把两只手掌扔在乞g的下巴下，向上推，然后将大头向后扔.
那个男人仍然抓着受害者以前的成就的纸质文件，大怒地开始用另一只手对被困的尸体进行猛击.但是，尽管拉拉迪耶尔(Ralladiere)饱受棍棒般的拳头之苦，但仍保持了自己的控制力.他在男人的脸颊上向上滑动手指，将其挖到略低于眼睛水平的位置.乞g咆哮着，继续砸向拉拉迪尔的腹部和胸部.同时，侧身转粗腰，他开始抬高膝盖，以再次打击腹股沟.
Lalladiere看到了动作，并因预期会导致疼痛而畏缩.他迅速将双手推向那个男人的眼睛.两个左手的手指滑过眼罩，他感到柔软而稀薄的肉覆盖在空洞的边缘.然后，他无法避免膝盖刺入他，就将右手的食指钉深入乞dro的唯一一只眼睛.
那个大个子痛苦地尖叫着，向后退去，fl起了手臂. Lalladiere摆脱了推力膝盖的全部力量，现在可以机动了.他转过身，沿着通道往上走.尽管受到了重击的打击，他还是走得很快，但很快就走到了尽头.没有出路.大量高高的泥土和石头堆砌在附近街道水槽上的工作人员在那里，完全堵住了洞口.
他跌倒在土堆上，拼命地抓住一侧的污垢以形成出口.它是硬包装，潮湿且沉重的，带有混入的石头.尽管他竭尽全力，但只有碎碎的小块掉了下来.在他的身后，他听到乞g的声音，乞ing痛苦不堪，看不见，开始沿着通道走.跌跌撞撞，这个硕大的人坚定地走向他听到拉拉迪耶(Lalladiere)奔跑的脚步的地方，并咆哮出淫秽的诅咒和威胁.乞danger的声音不断上升，拉拉迪耶在一定的危险下动员起来，将自己紧紧地推向巷道的石头建筑，并开始向后退.唯一的选择就是逃避那个瞎子，拼命地回到大街上.
他迅速而谨慎地移动着，交替地张开双腿，然后在他的手引导他抵着光滑的石头时一遍又一遍地拉他的双腿.乞g也试图快速移动，疯狂地双臂寻找.他几次绊倒了，但随后立即站起来，抓住坚实的侧面以获得支撑和方向.当乞gar向他走来时，拉拉迪尔可以看到一只手笨拙地工作.拳头加倍，它仍然用国王的印章紧紧抓住纸.他毫无用处地拳打在墙边，将纸紧紧地握在纸上，以示惩罚和自以为是的需要.羊皮纸的碎片必须具有特殊的价值，丰富的产量和重要性.这也是与失去的视觉世界的有形接触.
他摇晃着向前，继续用吼叫的愤怒和痛苦充满小巷. Keeping to the side where the large man less frequently contacted the wall, Lalladiere edged more closely, watching to avoid his searching and flailing arms. Blood was flowing down from the newly blinded eye. He was becoming weaker and began heavily swaying. With a cracked and tremulous voice, he shouted into the air:
"You shit. Aristocrat from hell. Who are you?"
Lalladiere cringed back and said nothing.
"Carrying the King's paper. Going to see Robespierre. Who in the name of all the plaguing demons are you who did this to me?" As he came nearer, Lalladiere remained flat and quiet against the wall.
"Who are you?" the beggar rasped.
Lalladiere inched forward. The question would not, and could not be answered. It penetrated into every layer of his mind, lunatic and sane, and filled him with despair. Who are you? Even if the beggar were able to trick him into answering, the only possible answer he knew was: No one. Asked again and again, the answer would be: No one.
Pushed up firmly against the wall, biting his lower lip with determination, Lalladiere slid past the looming blind man. Without a sound, he continued steadily along the dark stone, as fast as he could, toward the open end of the alleyway.
Chapter 17
During his midday meal, governor Pussin thought more about possible leads, people or places where Lalladiere might go. The man's background was by and large obscure: employed in the government, trusted assistant of Necker, suddenly he became mad. Was he going to be dismissed, threatened with some kind of exposure? Did he squander all his earnings? Pussin had seen cases of lunacy starting from such things.
Time was running out. The longer Lalladiere was out of the asylum, the more difficulties he might have, or cause. A more urgent warning, Dr. Pinel told him, had come from the Committee of Internal Affairs. They alleged that dangerous mental patients had been spotted on the streets of Paris. The Committee was seriously considering issuing orders for re-chaining of Bicêtre inmates and Dr. Pinel's removal if the circumstance was not shortly improved. Increases in Paris lunatics in those times, Dr. Pinel quipped, was certainly not the doing of the Bicêtre asylum. True, an inmate had recently gotten out, been chased around a wide area, but was brought back. Unfortunately, Lalladiere, well-known and still at large, was putting the new treatments at risk.
From an obscure place in his memory, Pussin suddenly recalled hearing Lalladiere obscenely teased by another inmate, a former soldier. He and an attendant were, at the time of admission, escorting Lalladiere to his sleeping quarter when the inmate shouted, together with some gibberish phrases, "I know you, Lalladiere, you were fucking the daughter of Camille Raston. That gorgeous piece, Genevieve. Genevieve. Rasty Genevieve." Lalladiere became immediately upset and had to be restrained on the spot. A bad incident, but Pussin remembered that the soldier inmate had some contacts in the king's government and might be touching on something real. Camille Raston was a former government minister who was now a deputy and fervent revolutionary. It was a long shot to check there, but they needed a lead to find him. As Denis suggested, instead of just wandering around, the man may have gone to someone he knew in his past. If not to this woman, she might perhaps know about other people or places. They could not locate the mother but Raston's place would be easy to determine. Putting down his fork, Pussin turned to Marguerite.
"As soon as they can be spared to go out again, I will send attendants, Denis will be one, to see Genevieve Raston."
"Why?"
"I have a hunch he may have gone there, one of the inmates mentioned her."
"I certainly hope you find him. I should have eyes in the back of my head. I feel bad about how he got out."
Later that day, Denis and Antoine arrived at the Camille Raston residence. Genevieve, they were told by the servant Rochelle, would not be able to see them right away. She had been ill for quite a long period, and continued to be sequestered for several hours each day. It was, Denis said, official business and their need to see her was pressing. Leaving them at the door, Rochelle went upstairs muttering to herself about the need nowadays to comply with everybody's pressures. She came back to tell them to wait in the small parlor room.
After a long half hour, Genevieve came down. Appearing to be in her mid-twenties, she had blond shoulder-length hair falling in curly corkscrew clusters and topped with a black velvet ribbon and a rose. She wore an unadorned light-blue cotton gown, loose but in places thin and adherent enough to outline parts of her attractively rounded body as she moved. Her cheekbones were high and angular, and a slight hollowing of her cheeks gave her a spare, thoughtful expression. At the same time, the upward tilt of her head displayed spirit and vivacity. She was in fact considered vivacious and witty by most who knew her. She was well-liked and popular with her age-mates and the families of other government officials.
"I was told you are looking for Guillaume Lalladiere. Why do you come here? Is he free?"
Denis answered. "We have reason to believe, citizenness, that you knew him before he became insane. He has escaped from the Bicêtre asylum, and we must bring him back."
"Is he violent?"
"Yes, definitely."
"Did he speak about me?" she asked with a laughing sound of discomfort rather than pleasure. "There, in the asylum, did he talk of me? Is that how you know?"
"No, citizenness, we ourselves never heard him speak of you. Citizen Pussin, governor of the asylum, told us to come here, that you might know where Lalladiere has gone."
"I have not seen Guillaume for a very long time. I knew he was at the Bicêtre. That he was sent there. But he has not been here. He would not come here. Not now. Never."
Denis looked at Antoine, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, a bad story, is it?" he said, addressing Genevieve. "Perhaps, citizenness, you may know something about the places he goes, where he has spent time? Other connections, associates? Is he likely to be in Paris or gone to the provinces?"
"Have you tried the Palais Royale? Bois de Bologne? Have you tried his mother's?"
"The governor says he has nothing to do with his mother. She has never visited him, or even tried to. Do you think, anyway, it is possible he went there?"
"Perhaps, I couldn't tell. I don't know anymore." She hooked a curl in her hair with a finger. Her next thought made her shiver. "The Seine?" she asked, "have you looked there?"
"Well, then, you think he might have drowned himself? Could be. We never saw him try to hurt himself, not even by refusing to eat like some of them do. Maybe he wandered around out of his mind and fell in. But the police would probably have found out about that and notified us by now. They watch, keep their eyes on the river a lot. Look for people jumping in, doing deals, trying to escape arrest or the guillotine. Anyway, we'll go check there later, and the other places you mentioned, too."
They asked for the mother's address and she went to get it. Returning, she indicated she had nothing more to tell them. Denis, soon out on the street, wondered aloud to Antoine:
"So, she thinks he may have gone to the Palais Royale. To the prostitutes. Hard to think of Lalladiere doing that, he's so tightened up. Anyway, those two must have had a rotten time together."
Antoine shrugged. "He's a lunatic. Do you think he ever was anything else?"
"Sure, what's the trouble? You think he always walked around with some demon inside him? He once was high up in the government. I saw him at that execution trying to talk to big shot deputies. Maybe something happened to him, someone is maybe really out to get him."
"You think too much. He's no government official when he comes at you with the fists, knees, teeth. Do we go to his mother's to look for him?"
Denis didn't think so. He said that they should tell the governor what they had heard, and find out what he wanted them to do. Relatives of inmates, as both he and Antoine knew, were sometimes quite bothersome. Constant looks of dejection or despair or, worse, coldness and disapproval of everyone.
Genevieve, sitting alone in the parlor, was not, as Rochelle said, ill. Before, there had been a long period of anguish and weakness and now, for most of the day, she still remained usually in her room. It all began soon after the terrifying days when Guillaume changed. The man she loved, tenderly, dearly. Both brilliant and inspired, she knew, capable of understanding the finances of the entire country, holding masses of details in his head, full of ideas for betterment of the nation, from whom Necker himself took important advice. This man began to talk of plots against him, had fits of wild-eyed frenzy, gradually became bizarre and incoherent, and finally went, before her eyes, into a strange, stuporous state where he hardly moved at all. She could do nothing for him, believed she had lost him forever.
Nothing in her life helped her get over it. She felt confused, tired, and useless. Her mother insisted that she forget Guillaume, "the frightening, crazy man," and go out to cafés and parties as other ministers' daughters and sons did. Also, it was time for her to find a suitable, good, and stable husband. But Genevieve would not consider it. She was not interested in dressing up, going dancing, and chatting endlessly about insignificant details of life. She was distressingly aware of the widespread scarcity of food and shortages of goods. She and her family had the good fortune to be well provided for, but she could no more engage in frivolous, wasteful pastimes while so many suffered than she could believe in aristocratic privilege.
She decided to write, in the form of letters, an account of the Revolution. She knew much of the history up to that point, from omnivorous study of newspapers, from her father, and from other government associates like Guillaume. She gained up-to-date information about everyday details and events aided by inside-sourced and colorful dinner table elaboration by her father, who had become as important as a revolutionary deputy as formerly he had been as a royal minister. Each day, she worked hard writing narrative accounts and deeply felt observations at a desk in her room. But, often, she was unsatisfied. At the end of each week, she read all the letters she created, and decided many were too maudlin, or overdramatic, or trite. She tore them up and the next week began all over again. It was a long, repetitious, but, in several ways, gratifying undertaking. For one thing, her mother, acknowledging her literary aspiration, reluctantly stopped insisting she go find someone else.
She wanted to write about the Revolution in a balanced way, showing the privations and goals of individuals, real people, but also the quandaries experienced by the King, the nobility, and the church. Noblesse oblige, devotion, maltreatment, suffering, human foibles, and hopes.
"King Louis is not a bad man," she remembered Guillaume saying to her once with strong feeling in the days before his--what? His loss of sanity. "He believes he is acting to help the people and they don't appreciate it. He agrees to the assemblages, follows advice, but nothing works out. He cannot see through all of the strategies and intrigues of the people around him, pushing him this way and that for their purposes. The queen, too. She's pushed around by plotters because she wants her royal prerogatives. Her privileges, her family, and her family ties come first."
"What do you think will happen, Guillaume?" she asked him then. She loved his thoughtful sensibility and his dedication.
"The people need relief. Necker is trying to bring in the money to help them. But they are starving, they pay and pay and get nothing. Things must change, probably severely."
Her chain of thoughts were interrupted by her mother Veronique Raston's entry into the parlor.
"Rochelle told me some men were here to see you. Why? What did they want?"
"They came to ask me about Guillaume. He has escaped from the Bicêtre asylum."
"Oh, what a horror. Do they think he will come here?"
"No, Maman, they thought I would know where he has gone."
"He must not come here. Terrifying, absolutely terrifying. I shall never forget what happened to him, how he looked. That strange speech, those wild staring eyes."
She paused for a thought, then asked anxiously, "Were they right coming here to you? Do you know anything about where he actually is?" The fright in her eyes turned into stern accusation. "You have gone to see him, even though we warned you over and over never again to do it,"
"No, I have not. I have not even tried, not through the long time he has been in the asylum. But remember, Maman, it wasn't his fault that Necker resigned from the government. You thought once he was a devoted, attractive man. You even several times said he had a handsome face."
"He is a lunatic. He will never get well."
"Who among us is not lunatic, Maman? Why do we fight in the streets and search for traitors? Why give some people liberty and take off the heads of others? If we are in the right, as my good Papa and the leaders say, and we believe, why are so many--people who were comrades--against us? And what about me? Have I been all right? Have I not been wild and grievously at fault?"
"What fault? What are you speaking of?"
"It was because of me that Guillaume became insane."
"My God, do you still hold onto that shameful idea of yours? Just because you stopped seeing him? This idea made you sick, you had to go to bed. We thought by now, with the time gone by, even with that work you do, you were cured you of the obsession. But you are holding onto it to besmirch us, your Papa and me. You put it inside your head, defy us, what we say, in your mind. That man was definitely not for you. Consul General Necker made much of him and prized him, but he surely pulled back when the man went wild and crazy. How many times have I reminded you how he---"
"Stop that, Maman," Genevieve interrupted. "You have reminded me of that over and over. Now he has gotten out of the asylum, he may again try an extreme sacrifice." Her eyes, which up to then had looked pained, now became sad with a thought she had when talking with the attendants. "He may go to his mother."
"His mother? What do you know of his mother? What has she to do with his lying motionless on the floor, letting people move his arms and legs like he was some soft putty. Until finally they got someone to come and say he was insane?"
"I must try to find him, Maman. He may hurt himself. I shall go to his mother's house, try to talk with him before the men go there. They may frighten him into doing something bad."
"What, you go out? And on such a dangerous, disgraceful undertaking? Why would he go to his mother's, whoever she is?" Veronique glared at her daughter before commanding, "You must not leave."
Genevieve stood up and walked past her mother toward the door of the parlor. "I am going to see Guillaume's mother, Maman. He may not have gone there, but even if he didn't, I must see her now, talk with her."
Standing at the entranceway of the parlor, she turned to the chifferobe, took out and put on a shawl. She glanced quickly back at her mother's face, now swollen with fury, and walked out the door.
