Free Madame Tussaud's Apprentice by Kathleen Benner Duble Page B

been marvelous, waking in a bed, eating three whole meals every day, studying a new form of art. I would feel bad taking their things. I like the aunts and uncle, and I am sure Manon could easily track us down again.
    There are many wealthy to steal from in Paris. How can I convince Algernon that Manon need not be one of them?
    “I don’t know. They’ve been nice to us, Algernon,” I say tentatively.
    “Don’t grow soft on me, Celie,” he says, shaking his head as he turns back around. “And do not fool yourself. They’re only kind to you because of your extraordinary recall and drawing skills. They do not care about
you
. They are wealthy, and the wealthy care only about staying wealthy.”
    He pauses. “But I have a plan, and one that does not involve stealing.”
    Relief runs through me at his words.
    “I met Mirabeau yesterday,” he says softly.
    He pauses for effect. “Alone. By myself.”
    Algernon has seen the great and nobly born orator Comte Mirabeau? How did he do that? And without me? I am resentful to have been left behind, although I must remind myself that I have been kept busy by Manon.
    I remember the first time Algernon took me to hear the tall, stout man speak. He spoke with a power and a force that had astounded me, addressing the need for change and the unfairness of a system where some starved while others had more than they could consume. It was as if Mirabeau was not of noble birth, as if he had gone hungry and cold, as we had.
    That day, I felt as if he was speaking right to me. He became my hero, and the hero of Algernon and the crowd. The ragged group that had gathered to hear him gave a cheer that echoed all over Paris when he finished. Mirabeau is at the very center of those who wish to see change.
    “He saw
you
?” I ask in awe. “How did you get an audience with him?”
    It is a great honor that Algernon has been let into this inner circle.
    Algernon smiles proudly. “By offering him your services.”
    I stare at him. “
My
services? For what?”
    Algernon takes my arm. His grip is strong and heady, and his eyes burn into mine. “I have been told that you are to draw
tableaux
of the wealthy for Dr. Curtius. Mirabeau would like a copy, so that he may use it in the pamphlets he distributes to the people. He wants to use your drawings to focus attention on the excesses of the rich and to rouse the people to action. He is willing to pay you.”
    I am astounded and pleased. Mirabeau wants
my
drawings for our cause? I am to provide pictures to the leader of the group that speaks out for equality? Me? Celie Rosseau? How far I have come from the girl dying by the side of the road!
    “You need only remember what you have drawn for Dr. Curtius and draw it again. You can do that, can’t you?” Algernon whispers, pulling me near him. “You have not forgotten, have you, Celie? You have not forgotten what we fight for? We are together still, right? A team?”
    Of course I am still his, and of course I will draw for Mirabeau. Here is a chance to effect real change, to make things different for people like Maman and Papa and Jacques. Already, my fingers itch to get started.
    I nod enthusiastically.
    Algernon smiles, his eyes soft with feeling. “Together, we can make a real difference, Celie.”
    He moves toward me, and I think I will faint with anticipation. I close my eyes and tilt my head up to him, waiting. At last, a kiss.
    I feel his fingers softly graze my lips. Then, nothing.
    “Algernon?” I say. I open my eyes to see the hesitation in his.
    “Go,” he says at last, and his voice is thick with emotion. “Go. Learn all you can. Draw all you can, Celie. And remember that we work for the freedom of France.”
    I move from the room as he bids, biting back stupid, stupid tears. Once again, I have let hope gain a foolish foothold on my heart.
    • • •
    Three days later, the wax head has solidified, and l’Oncle removes it from its plaster casing. With l’Oncle, I smooth out