Taking the Bastile; Or, Pitou the Peasant

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER XIX.

  THE QUEEN'S FAVORITE.

  On entering her boudoir, the Queen beheld the writer of the missive.

  Count George Oliver Charny was a tall man of thirty-five, with a strongcountenance warning one of his determination. His bluish grey eyes,quick and piercing as the eagle's, his straight nose, and his markedchin, all gave his physiognomy a martial expression, enhanced by thedashing elegance with which he wore his uniform of Lieutenant in theRoyal Lifeguards.

  His hands were still quivering under the torn lace ruffles: his swordhad been so bent as to fit the sheath badly.

  He was pacing the room, a prey to a thousand disquieting thoughts.

  "My Lord Charny," cried Marie Antoinette, going straight up to him."You, here?"

  Seeing that he bowed respectfully, according to the regulations,however, she dismissed her servant, who shut the door.

  Hardly giving it the time to close, the lady grasped the nobleman'shand with force, and said:

  "Why have you come here, count?"

  "Because I believe it my duty."

  "No; your duty was to flee from Versailles; to do as agreed. To obeyme; to act like all my friends--who are afraid of my ill fortune. Yourduty is to sacrifice nothing for me; to keep away from me."

  "Who keeps away from you?"

  "The wise. Whence come you?"

  "From Paris, boiling with excitement, intoxicated and bathed in blood."

  The Queen covered her face with her hands.

  "Alas, not one, not even you, brings me good news from that quarter."

  "In such a time ask but one thing of the messengers: truth."

  "You have an upright soul, my friend, a brave heart. Do not tell methe truth, at present, for mercy's sake. You arrive when my heartis breaking; for the first time my friends overwhelm me with thistruthfulness always used by you. It is impossible for me to trifle withit any longer: it flashes out in everything. In the red sky, the airfilled with ominous sounds, the courtiers' faces, now pale and serious.No, count, for the first time in your life, do not tell me the truth."

  "Your Majesty is ailing?"

  "No, but come and sit beside me. George, your brow is burning."

  "A volcano is raging there."

  "Your hand is cold," for she was pressing it between hers.

  "My heart has been touched by the chill of death," he replied.

  "Poor George! I told you we had best forget. Let me no longer be theQueen, hated and threatened; but just the woman. What is the realm, theuniverse to me, whom one loving heart suffices?"

  The count went down on one knee and kissed the hem of her dress withthe reverence of the ancients for a goddess.

  "Oh, count, my only friend, do you know what Countess Diana is doing?"

  "Leaving the country," returned Charny.

  "He guesses rightly," muttered the Queen, "how could he tell that?"

  "Oh, goodness--anything can be surmised at this hour."

  "But if flight is so natural, why do not you and your family take it?"

  "I do not do so, in the first place, because I have pledged myself notonly to your Majesty, but to myself, not to leave you during the storm.My brothers stay, as they regulate their movements by mine: and my wiferemains because she loves your Majesty most sincerely, I believe."

  "Yes, Andrea has a most noble heart," said the lady with visiblecoldness.

  "That is why she will not quit Versailles," replied Charny.

  "It follows that I shall always have you near me," went on the Queen,in the same glacial tone, awarded to prevent the hearer telling whethershe felt disdain or jealousy.

  A witness could have divined this secret, however, from their manner inthis privacy.

  Meeting romantically, without either knowing the other's quality, MarieAntoinette and George Charny had fallen in love with each other. Theroyal dame had left the passion swell to the highest point, when theKing had surprised the pair in dangerous intimacy. There was only oneway to save her reputation: she blurted out the first name of a ladythat occurred to her, and protested that the count was at her kneessueing for this lady to be his wife, with the royal approval.

  The Queen had named Andrea Taverney, her companion, and the King, hissuspicions dismissed, consented that she should be withdrawn from theconvent where she had taken refuge, to fulfill the pretendedly wish ofCharny. Was it religion that impelled her, or love on her own side forCharny? It was love, for she eagerly accepted the proffered hand, andthe wedding took place, all the more as she had had the misfortune tolearn that she was used as the cover for the royal amour.

  But at the churchdoor they separated and had dwelt apart ever since.

  Had she been truly a wife, the experiment of Dr. Gilbert might havefailed, for mesmerism succeeds best with the single.

  "Your Majesty," resumed the count, "made me Lifeguards lieutenant atVersailles, and I should not have quitted my post only you ordered meto guard the Tuileries Palace, You called it a necessary exile. YourMajesty knows that the countess neither approved nor disapproved, asshe was not consulted."

  "True," observed the other, still cold.

  "I now believe my place is here," proceeded the officer withintrepidity: "I have broken my orders and come, hoping it will notdisplease you. Whether Lady Charny fears the course of events and goesaway or not, I remain by the Queen, unless you break my sword: then,being unable to die in your presence, I can be killed at your door oron the pavement without."

  He spoke so royally and plainly these simple words straight from theheart that the sovereign fell from her high pride, behind which she hadhidden a feeling more human than royal.

  "Count, never utter that word, never say you will die for me, as I feelthat you will do so."

  "I must say so, for the time comes when those who love monarchs mustdie for them--I fear so."

  "What gives you this fatal presentiment, my lord?"

  "Alas," returned the nobleman, "at the time of the American War,I was fired like others with the fever of independence thrillingsociety. I also wish to take a hand in the liberation of the slaves ofGreat Britain, as was said in those days, and I became a Free Mason,an Invisible like the Lafayettes and Lameths, under the redoubtableBalsamo, the King-Destroyer. Do you know the aim of that secretsociety? the wrecking of thrones. Its motto: 'Trample down the Lilies,'expressed in Latin as 'Lilia Pedibus Destrue!' in three letters for theinitiated: 'L. P. D.' I retired with honor when I learnt this, but forone who shrank, twenty took the oath. What happens to-day is merely thefirst act of a grand tragedy which has been rehearsed during twentyyears in the darkness. I have recognized the Bounden brothers at thehead of the men who govern at the City Hall, occupy the Palais Royal,and took the Bastile. Do not cheat yourself; these accomplished deedsare no accidents, but Revolution planned long beforehand."

  "Do you believe this, dear friend?" sobbed Marie Antoinette.

  "Do not weep, but understand," said the count.

  "Understand that I, the Queen, born mistress of thousands of men,subjects created to obey, must look on at them revolting and killing myfriends--No, never will I understand this."

  "You must, madam: for you have become the enemy of these subjects assoon as obedience weighed upon them, and while they are lacking thestrength to devour you, they are testing their teeth on your friends,whom they detest as much as you, more than you."

  "Perhaps you think they are right, Master Philosopher?" sneered theAustrian.

  "Alas, yes, they are right," replied the Lifeguards Lieutenant, in hisbland, affectionate voice, "for when I idly rode along the street, withhandsome English horses, in a gold-laced suit, and my servants wearingmore gold braid than would have kept three families, your people,twenty-five thousand wretches without daily bread, asked me to my teethwhat use was I, who set up as a man above his fellow-men?"

  "You serve them, my lord," said the Queen, grasping the count'sswordhilt, "with this blade, which your fathers used as heroes on manya celebrated battlefield. The French nobi
lity shielded the masses inwar times; they won their gold by losing their blood. Do not you askwhat use you are, George, while you, a brave man, swing the sword ofyour fathers."

  "Do not speak of the nobles' blood," returned the count, "the commonershave blood to shed also; go and see the streams of it on BastileSquare. Go and count their dead in the gutters and know that thosehearts, now ceased to beat, throbbed as nobly as a knight's when yourcannon thundered against them. They sang in the showers of grapeshotwhile handling unfamiliar weapons, and the oldest grenadiers wouldnot make a charge with that lightness. Lady and Queen, do not lookat me with that angry eye, I beseech you. What matters to the heartwhether it is clad in steel or rags? The time is come to think of this:you have no longer millions of slaves, or subjects, or mere men inFrance--but soldiers."

  "Who will fight against me?"

  "Yes, for they fight for Liberty and you stand between them and thatgoddess."

  A long silence succeeded the words, and the woman was first to break it.

  "You have spoken the truth which I begged you to keep back," she said.

  "Because it is before you, veiled, seen distorted, but there. You maysleep to forget it, but it sits on your bedside and it will be thephantom in your dreams as it is the reality of your waking moments."

  "I know one sleep it will not trouble," said she, proudly.

  "I do not fear that kind more than your Majesty--I may desire it asmuch," said the count.

  "Oh, you think it our only refuge?"

  "Yes: but we must not hurry towards it. We shall earn it by ourexertions during the day of storm."

  They were sitting beside each other, but a gulf divided them; theirthoughts so diverged.

  "A last word, count," said Marie Antoinette, "swear to me that you cameback solely on my account? that Lady Charny did not write to you? Iknow that she was going out--to meet you? swear that you have not comeback for her sake!"

  At this was heard a slight tapping at the door.

  It was the servant to announce that the King had finished supper.Charny frowned with wonder.

  "Tell his Majesty," said the Queen without sitting apart from herfavorite, "that I have news from the capital, and will impart to him.Continue," she added to Charny: "the King having supped must be giventime to digest."

  This interruption had not weakened the woman's jealousy as a lovingone, or as a queen.

  "Your Majesty asks if I came back on account of my wife?" he asked assoon as the door was closed. "Do you forget that I am a man of my wordand the engagement I made?"

  "It is the oath that goads me, for in immolating yourself to myhappiness, you give grief to a fair and noble woman--a crime the more."

  "You exaggerate. Be it enough that I keep my word. Call it not a crimewhat was born of chance and necessity. We have both deplored this unionwhich shielded the Queen's good fame. I have been obliged to submit toit these four years."

  "Yes, but do you believe that I do not see your sorrow and chagrintranslated under the form of the deepest respect?" reproached the Queen.

  "For mercy's sake, do me justice for what you see me do; for if Ihave not yet suffered and made others suffer enough, I might doublethe burden without rising to the level of the gratitude I owe youeternally."

  His speech had irresistible power like all emanating from a sincere andimpassioned heart.

  "Yes, yes, I know all, and I am wrong. Forgive me. But if you worshipsome secret idol to whom you offer a mystic incense, if you cherish oneadored woman--I dare not utter the words, they frighten me lest thesyllables should scatter through the air and vibrate on my ear--oh, ifone exists, keep her hidden from all; and do not forget that you have afair and youthful wife, who should be publicly encompassed with caresand assiduity; she should lean on your arm and on your heart."

  Charny frowned so that the pure lines of his visage were altered for aspace.

  "What are you seeking? that I should depart from the Countess ofCharny? you are silent--that is your meaning. I am ready to obey you,but reflect that she is alone in the world. Andrea is an orphan, herfather the baron having died last year, like a good old nobleman ofthe former time who did not wish to see the present. Her brother, theKnight of Redcastle, only appears once a-year at court to bow to yourMajesty, kiss his sister, and go away without anybody knowing whither.Reflect, madam, that this lady of Charny, might be called unto God asa maiden, without the purest of the angels surprising in her mind anywomanly memory."

  "Yes, I know your Andrea is an angel on earth, and deserves to beloved. That is why I think the future will be hers when it flees fromme. No, no; but I am not speaking like a queen. I forget myself, butthere is a voice in my heart singing of love and happiness, whilewithout roars war, misery and death. It is the voice of my youth whichI have outlived. Forgive one, Charny, who is no longer young, and willsmile, and love no more."

  The unhappy woman pressed her long, thin fingers to her burning eyesand tears, regal diamonds more becoming than the finest in the DiamondNecklace, trickled between them.

  "Oh, order me to quit you, but do not let me see you weep," pleaded thecount, again falling on one knee.

  "The dream is over," said Marie Antoinette, rising.

  With a witching movement she tossed back her thick, powdered tresses,unrolling down her white and swanline neck.

  "I shall afflict you no more. Let us drop such folly. Is it odd that awoman should be so weak when a queen stands in such need of comfort?Let us talk of serious matters--such as you bear from Paris."

  "From Paris, madam, where I witnessed the ruin of royalty."

  "This is serious with a vengeance. You call a successful revolt theruin of royalty? Because the Bastile is taken, Lord Charny, do you sayroyalty is abolished? You do not reflect that the Bastile has beenbuilt but in the Fourteenth Century while royalty struck in its rootssix thousand years ago all over the globe."

  "I would I could deceive," said the lieutenant sadly, "and proclaimconsoling news instead of saddening your Majesty. Unfortunately theinstrument gives forth no other sounds than it was shaped to send."

  "Stay, I will set you to a cheerier tune! though I am but a woman. Yousay the Parisians have revolted. In what proportion?"

  "Twelve out of fifteen: the calculation is easy. The populace standin that proportion to the classes, the other two fifteenths being thenobility and the clergy."

  "But six of the rate are women, and----"

  "Women and children are not the least of your foes. You are proud andcourageous yourself, do not omit the women and the children. One dayyou may reckon them as demons."

  "What do you mean, count?"

  "Do you not know the part the women and children play in civilcommotions? I will tell you and you will own that a woman is equal twosoldiers."

  "Are you mad, my lord?"

  "Had you seen your sex at the taking of the Bastile," he said with amournful smile: "hounding the men on to arm themselves, while under thefire, threatening with their naked fist your Swiss soldiers caparisonedfor war, yelling maledictions over the slain in a voice which madethe living bound unto death. Had you seen them boiling pitch, rollingcannon, giving the fighting men cartridges and the more timid a kisswith the cartridges! Do you know that as many women as men dashedacross the Bastile draw-bridges, and that if its stones are comingdown now, the picks are wielded by female hands? Oh, my lady, you mustinclude the women, and the children who cast the bullets, sharpen theswords and hurl paving-stones from the roofs. The bullet cast by a boywill kill your best general from afar; the sword he sharpened willhamstring your finest war-horse; the blind pebble from this David'ssling will put out the eye of your Dragoon Samson and your LifeguardsGoliath.

  "Count the old men, too, for they who have no strength to swing thesabre, serve as buckler for the active fighters. At the taking of theBastile old men were on hand: they stood so that the younger onescould rest their guns on their shoulder so that the balls of yourSwitzers might be buried in the useless old body, the rampart of theabl
e man. Include them among your foes, for they have been relating inthe chimney corner for ever so many years, what affronts their mothersendured, the poverty of the estates over which the nobles hunted, theshame of their caste humbled under feudal privileges. When the sonstook up the gun, they found it loaded with the curses of the aged aswell as with powder and shot. In Paris now, women and children as wellas the men are cheering for liberty and independence. Count them all aseight hundred thousand warriors."

  "Three hundred Spartans vanquished Xerxes' army," retorted the Queen.

  "Yes, but the Spartans are nearly a million and it is your army that isXerxes."

  "Oh, I would rather be hurled from the throne," she cried, as she rosewith clenched fists and face flaming with shame and ire, "I wouldrather your Parisians hewed me to pieces, than hear from a Charny, oneof my supporters, such speech as this!"

  "Charny would not so address your Majesty unless every drop of blood inhis veins were worthy of his sires and given to you."

  "Then let us march upon Paris and let us die together!"

  "Shamefully, without any battle," said the noble. "We shall not fightbut disappear entirely like Philistines. March on Paris? when, as soonas we enter within her walls, all the houses will tumble down uponus, like the Red Sea waves overwhelming Pharaoh, and you will leave acursed name, and your children will be hunted down like wolf-cubs."

  "How must I fall, pray tell me, count?" demanded the sovereignhaughtily; "teach me."

  "As a victim," was the answer, "like a Christian queen, smiling andforgiving those who strike you. If I had five hundred thousand likemyself, I might say, Let us have at them this night, and to-morrow youwould sleep in the Tuileries, the throne conquered!"

  "Woe is me! you despair on whom was set my final hope."

  "I despair because all France thinks like Paris, and your army ifvictorious in the capital, will be engulfed by the other towns. Havecourage enough, my lady, to sheathe the sword."

  "Is this why I have gathered brave men around me? why I breathedcourage into them?" wailed the Queen.

  "If you are not of my opinion, madam, order, and we march at once toParis! Speak."

  So much devotion was in this offer that the hearer was appalled. Shethrew herself disconsolate on a sofa, where she struggled for a longtime with her pride.

  "Count," she said at length, "I shall remain inactive as you desire. Iam not cross, though I have one thing to scold you for. I only learn bychance that you have a brother in the military service."

  "Valence is in Bercheny's Hussars, yes, madam."

  "Why have you never spoken of the young man? he deserves a higher gradein the regiment."

  "He is young and inexperienced; he is not fit to command. If yourMajesty deigned to lower your view upon me, a Charny, that is no reasonfor me to elevate my family at the expense of brave gentlemen worthierthan brothers of mine."

  "You have other brothers?"

  "Isidore is another; two ready to die for your Majesty."

  "Does he need nothing?"

  "Nothing; we are lucky enough to place not merely life but wealth atyour Majesty's feet."

  As he spoke, the Queen thrilled with this delicate probity; a moan fromthe next room aroused them.

  Rising, the Queen ran to the door, opened it and screamed loudly. Shesaw a woman writhing on the carpet in dreadful spasms.

  "It is the countess, your wife," she faltered. "Can she have overheardus?"

  "No," said he, "otherwise, she would have let us know that she couldhear us."

  He sprang towards Andrea and caught her up in his arms. Two paces off,the Queen stood, pale and cold, but trembling with anxiety.