Love at Dawn

11.Alouette and Nightingale

"I demand to speak."

The audience turned their curious eyes towards the girl at the centre of the room. Raising her slender arm, she gestured for silence.

"Please listen to me," she began, her demeanor calm yet proud. "I can vouch for Citizen Quenet. My family used to know him well in Rouen. He was no aristocrat. He was a poor painter who lived in a poky inn with people in worn-out trousers. His sleeves had holes, and his shoes were patched.

"I witnessed him skipping meals, yet helping homeless children with the only coins he had! Quenet is more innocent and righteous than anyone else present."

Beside her, Philippe stood onto a chair, stretching his arm. The candid young man raised his voice to address the entire room.

"I, Philippe Percy, also guarantee Citizen Quenet's repute! The accusations against him are either the slander of hypocrites seeking to conceal their own infamy, or the foolish belief in ridiculous lies spread by cheaters!"

The club fell silent for a few moments before a man's voice suddenly cried out, "Vive Quenet!"

Soon, more and more people began shouting with fervor, "Vive Quenet! Vive Robespierre!"

Edith looked up at the podium with relief, meeting Andre's gaze from behind, who shared a knowing smile with her.

After leaving the club, Andre expressed his gratitude to the siblings.

"I was just telling the truth," Philippe laughed heartily.

"Thank you, Edith," Andre looked directly at the girl. "You are truly brave."

"I guess I've returned the favour to you," Edith tossed her braids proudly, but also with a touch of shyness.

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After the event at the club, Andre Quenet began to frequent the Percys more and more, joining them for dinner whenever he could.

In private, he was sincere and amiable. Coupled with that lovable appearance of his, even Aunt Adele, who had always harboured prejudices against revolutionaries, began to regard this friend of her son's as family.

On some evenings, the family would sit together to read classics. Andre declaiming verses and plays to them, Philippe and Margot looked up to him with admiration.

Edith came across some journal articles about Andre Quenet, the spokesperson in the National Convention. Reporters described him in either disdainful or awed tones, portraying him as ruthless and callous. Some even wrote that he was arrogant to the point of disgust, "carrying himself like a high priest."

She found it strange because the Andre depicted in those articles was unfamiliar to her. When he was at their house, he was always like a gentle and affable older brother, occasionally cracking witty jokes.

Perhaps this little painter had a side to him that she had yet to discover.

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Edith brought to her good friend Charlene the half-month income from the Lady Liberty that Andre handed to her, asking her to buy a thicker blanket with it.

"This is too much, Edith," Charlene said, looking a little overwhelmed. "I really don't need anything too fancy. Compared to blankets and food, I might prefer some materials for experiments. It's been so long since I've done any chemical experiments."

She hurriedly added, "Oh, I didn't mean to place you in a difficult position! It was just a throwaway remark. How could I not know how extravagant it is to get those things in such difficult times? I'm sorry, Edith."