CHAPTER XXI.
THE SPIDERS SPIN.
How provoking and how unfair to be called upon to drag out the yearsof our earthly pilgrimage during so stormy a period as this one! Withunexpected bombshells exploding at one's feet, what was the use ofsketching elaborate schemes which accident would most likely shiver?The abbe had already been obliged to change his tactics several timesin consequence of untoward circumstances, and now from a clearingheaven there rained down missiles whose unexpected proximity sharpenedhis ire. "Why was I born so late?" he asked himself with mutteredcurses. "Under Louis XV., _le Bien-Aime_, everybody did what theyliked, provided that his majesty smiled. And if his own fancy was notthwarted, that monarch must have been much addicted to smiling, for hefound the world a pleasant place. And now, just a few years later,there seemed to be not such a thing as a smile left anywhere. They hadbeen so lavishly showered by the _bien-aime_ and his lotus-eatingcoterie that the stock was completely exhausted, and humanity had toput up with execrations as a substitute."
Each time that a courier arrived with intelligence of what was passingin the capital, the male occupants of Lorge shuddered, guessing thatthe news was bad. Bad, forsooth! The ball set a rolling was tearingdown the hillside with such velocity that the sight thereof took awaythe breath.
Old de Vaux, grateful ever to the marquis and his affinity for theirtreatment of his sciatic nerve, came riding over with crumpledgazettes in his pocket, his eyes goggling in his head. If the whitenedlocks upon his pate had not been artificial, they would have stood upon end. "What are we all coming to?" was the burthen of his wail. Ifthe world was coming to an abrupt conclusion, why did it not perform adignified smash and vanish into vacuum in smoke, instead of firstpermitting that over-rated creation, man, to show what a base thing hewas?
Smash! Paris, beautiful Paris, had come to smash. From a paradise itwas become a pandemonium where all that was best and noblest was tornby devils' pincers.
Sciatica? Oh, yes. It was charming well, thanks to the delightful andindefatigable pupil of Mesmer and the enlightened marquis. A pair sogood as they would certainly be canonized--so would the prophet.Madame and Angelique were as disgusted as the baron, but sent kindestmessages to all. Would they allow their patient to unfold the latestbudget?
Then the old gentleman would drone out before a long-suffering butapparently appreciative audience the result of his privatelucubrations, and pour forth as well those of his lady and ofAngelique. The seigneurs, he declared, must select the strongestfortress in the province, arm and victual it, and thus secure from thescum, look out for better times.
Of course, the crescendo of Parisian sinfulness found its echo, offluctuating intensity, in the provinces. The timorous old baroness andher daughter preferred their garden to possible insult on the roads.Moreover, there was little to be gained by visiting at Lorge now. Themarquise since her return from the capital, had been vastly frigid andstand-off--a stuck-up piece of goods. It was certain, now that she hadher fabulous possessions in her hands, that a mere country noble'sfamily were too contemptible to touch. It was equally clear that theoaf who was called chevalier had no honourable intentions, and that itwould be more than imprudent to place so chaste a specimen asAngelique within reach of his brandy-laden breath. And so it cameabout that the only neighbours of the fair sex in the vicinity visitedless and less at Lorge, and that the old baron when he trotted over onhis prad, looked as a matter of course for the society of themesmerists to whom he owed so much, and ceased to ask to see thechatelaine.
Not understanding her, the baron had always been frightened ofGabrielle--one shade less than of the abbe. Strange! When thatgentleman first came among them, the baron and all the booby squiresvoted him the most charming of acquisitions. Now, somehow, he was tobe avoided as much as might be, for his tongue was sharp and his witscathing, and he was no respecter of persons. The abbe would sometimestake up the old gentleman in his claws, as it were, toy with him ascat does with a mouse, till he was bewildered and breathless; thenturn him inside out with a gesture of contempt, and fling him aside.This was terribly disrespectful to a Vaux of Vaux, but it certainlywas a fact, whose enormity was only revealed by slow degrees, that theabbe was not averse to treating a Vaux de Vaux (with a thousandquarterings) as if he were no more than a puppet. Having arrived atand digested this stupendous fact, it stood to reason that the barondisliked the abbe as much as he dared; but, at the same time, thecounsel of that ghostly man was so worldly-wise; he was so respectedby the mesmerists, appealed to by them on every occasion as an oracle,that in moments of startling difficulty such as were now of frequentoccurrence, it was only natural that the baron should amble over fromMontbazon to crave the oracle's advice.
A budget, indeed! Almost every day was stamped by some inconceivableevent. History was making up for casual napping by a spell of feverishhaste. A catalogue of years was crowded into weeks. The poor old globewas spinning round so rapidly that it would certainly be shot out ofits orbit, to the annihilation of the insects on its surface.
When, six weeks after their arrival in the country, the incidents ofthe tenth of August reached far Touraine, the cunning abbe had thegazette wherein they were chronicled laid on the table of themarquise, whom he justly calculated would be frozen with horror. Thather innocent benefactress should be summoned by destiny in fulfilmentof prophecy, to drain so full a cup of bitterness was appalling, andnaturally set her friend reflecting upon the darkness of her ownhoroscope.
The sensitive and haughty queen was indeed humbled; her defendersmassacred, her home converted into a shambles.
After the storming of the Tuileries, the populace, blood-drunk,wreaked their insensate fury upon all alike, irrespective of age orsex. The gentlemen-ushers, pages, doorkeepers, even the lowlyscullions of the kitchen were, without distinction, butchered. It wasimpossible to move a yard over the polished floors without treading ona corpse, stripped and horribly mutilated. Every corner of the palacewas plundered, its furniture flung out of the window. When there wereno more Royalists to kill, the rioters turned upon each other, makingthe fatal day the fete of carnage and devastation. The mangled bodiesof the seven hundred murdered Swiss were covered with those of_sans-culottes_. It was a carnival of slaughter. On the Place LouisXV., groups of men and women amused themselves by severing the headsof the slain and tearing their flesh like tigers. It was a relief toknow that the royal family were safe within the Temple; and yet, forwhat further suffering had they been rescued? The situation was soalarming that foreign ambassadors left Paris in a body, the last to gomilady Sutherland, who stood by Marie Antoinette in her travail tillthe prison gates were closed on her.
Then came the incident, so often repeated in history, of a hopelesscombat with a spirit which, easily raised, it is found impossible tolay. General Lafayette, perceiving, with distress, the results of hisown teaching, implored his army to rise in defence of king andconstitution, and being met with laughter, fled.
On the second of September--a Sunday, whereon time hung heavy on thehands--the brilliant idea occurred to certain zealous citizens, headedby one Maillard, that it would be fine fun to make hay in the prisons.Were there not the Abbaye, the Carmelites, the Chatelet, La Force,Salpetriere, Bicetre, all crammed with wicked people who did notapprove of _sans-culottes?_ What a delicious amusement would it be forthe dull Sunday to teach them how bad they were. With yells, a throng,increasing in volume at each street corner, swept towards theAbbaye--men naked to the waist, with foaming lips and rolling eyes,and arms clotted with gore. Knives and sharp pikes made short butmerry work. Recalcitrant maidens who refused to shout "Vive laNation!" were compelled to drink the blood of their relations. Themassacre continued all day and through the night. But why go into thefull details of the hideous story? France was become a dangerouslunatic who had beaten and trampled on her keepers.
It was a desperate shock to Gabrielle when she read of the fate of herfriend, Louise, Princesse de Lamballe.
That ill-starred lady had, asshe knew, been imprisoned in La Force; and it was with a thrill thatchilled her blood that she perused the details of her murder. Sure sohorrible and ferocious a deed had never been done before! The marquiseread, in the gazettes cunningly placed by the abbe, with blanchedcheek, of how the beautiful favourite of the stricken queen had beendragged to the prison threshold, there to be slain by inches; of howher body was stripped and mutilated and flung in derision on adung-heap, while her head was borne on a pike with auburn tressesflying, and flourished at the Temple under the window of the royalprisoners. Unhappy Louise! Unfortunate Marie Antoinette! Concerningone the sinister prophecy was accomplished; concerning the other itwould be soon. What of the third, which concerned the Marquise deGange? Morbid fancy, forsooth! No, indeed. Her fate was sealed, liketheirs. What must be, must. She had lulled herself in false security.
Since Fate had decreed that the present occupants of Lorge were tolive in so unsavoury an era, it behoved the ruling spirit of thegroup, Monsieur l'Abbe, to extract what advantage he could out of thedisadvantages. In the first place, outside events were so terriblyengrossing that local gossip and tittle-tattle for the time had losttheir charm. The general feeling of insecurity, too, was such that themarquise could be taught without difficulty that this was not themoment for aristocrats to appeal to the Seigneurie. What was a pettybit of jealousy, or even a family misunderstanding, by the side of amassacre of thousands? A protest at such a crisis on so paltry asubject would be justly met with contempt.
Then as History kept plying her shuttle with lightning speed, the abbeshook his head and marvelled, congratulating himself that the greatobstacle to his plan had been removed, since time was becomingprecious.
For the new will was now an accomplished fact, and lay safe in yonderdesk which bore the cypher of the marquis.
Mademoiselle Brunelle had intimated to the chatelaine, with a heavenlyresignation worthy of all praise, that for appearance' sake she wouldaccept the permission to linger on a week or two and then disappearfor ever. Her note, penned in a small and irreproachable caligraphy,both relieved and troubled the marquise. That she had consented todepart without a struggle was a relief, but her mild and simpleexpressions of gratitude for past favours caused Gabrielle a twinge ofconscience. Of course it was inevitable that the woman should be madeto go, but the marquise would have felt more satisfied with herself ifthe creature had been vulgar and played the termagant instead ofassuming the seraph. It was a million pities that she could not havegone on behaving as at first, when her mistress, finding her useful,had welcomed and tried to make a friend of her. The social earthquakehad so far shaken the city of Blois that professors began to find itdangerous to cultivate aristocratic blossoms, preferring, with an eyeto a whole skin, the discharging of declamatory fireworks at clubs andpolitical assemblies. Of course there could be no question ever againof bringing mademoiselle and her late charges together; and yet it wasa pity that it must be so, since the minds of the dear ones were lyingfallow.
News arrived of changes, legislative and warlike, such as wouldtransform the map of France. The jewels appertaining to the crown wereannexed. The National Convention, just sprung into being, decreed theabolition of Royalty; proclaimed a Republic. The republican armieswere, contrary to expectation, crowned with victory. They conqueredSavoy, occupied Nice; swept from French territory the forces of theAllies. The small remaining scraps of the property of emigrants, longthreatened and plucked at now and again, were actually seized _enbloc_. A list of pains and penalties of the severest kind was launchedat such bad citizens as were gangrened with royalism.
At the present rate of progress the country would soon be no saferthan the towns. Aristocrats would be dragged from their retreats,consigned to local jails, finished off in batches by a _noyade_ or a_fusillade_--be drowned or shot in droves. Clearly, there was no timefor palaver or parleying, or the days would pass away when it would bepossible to emigrate. What a mercy--the abbe never wearied ofrepeating the refrain--that the Marechal de Breze should havetransferred his wealth to Geneva, and that his obstinate andstiff-necked daughter should have been induced to change her will!
Mademoiselle Brunelle was equally convinced with the abbe that therewas no time to squander. If she were to remain too long, the marquisewould become suspicious and insist on her departure Of course she neednot travel further than Blois, but it is well to be on the spot whensomething important is to take place, especially when your coadjutoris so double-faced as was the abbe. The susceptibilities of Clovismust be respected. What the schemers had to do must be done speedily,silently, and neatly. When she thought of it all the low laughter ofAlgae rumbled. How surprised and mortified would the abbe be when inthe end he found himself circumvented! She was to put out her paw forthe chestnuts and keep half the booty for her trouble? So Pharamondhad picturesquely put it. Not so. Unwittingly it was his own paw thatwas to be protruded, and in his case the fable would be realized. Theexcellent lady had graduated in his own school, and it is given toclever pupils ofttimes to outstrip the master.
Sure, now that they held the necessary document, their task was of themost infantine simplicity. It had been ascertained by cautious probingthat Clovis could be counted on not to defend his wife. He would bepolitely invited to bury his head in the sand until that which must bewas accomplished. By skilful manipulation his loathing for his betterhalf was increasing as steadily in volume as a rolling snowball, andwas assuming the proportions of a fixed idea. Gabrielle had decreedthe banishment of the dear affinity. With many a groan he hadacquiesced, being assured by two whisperers as he wrote to theirdictation, that it was but a matter of form. "If she conquers, afterall," he had said as he flung down the pen, "I will never forgiveeither of you. You have some project in your minds for the arrangementof the situation. What it may be I cannot guess, but I would have youknow that if you fail I shall hate you both quite as much as her."
Algae and the abbe had exchanged a glance of scorn over his shoulder,in that they were forced to work with such a sorry tool. No matter. Ifwe paddle in thick mud, a little elbow-grease and water will make usclean again. Both began from opposite points of view to understandthat the removal of Clovis might perchance have to follow hiswife's. After her removal they would journey to Geneva, divide thefortune--hush the remorseful groans which so pusillanimous an objectas Clovis was certain to indulge in--possibly drive him to drink, thenatural corollary of remorse--and so into his grave. This was theabbe's view. Algae went further. Arrived at Geneva, she would speedilybecome the marquise, and certain of dominion over her spouse--so longas his life was allowed to last--would secure to herself the reversionof her predecessors' fortune, and politely dismiss the brothers.
All that, however, was as yet in the clouds, and there was no time tolose. To a certain extent, the marquis must now be admitted to thecouncil, but the cautious finger of the governess must be kept uponhis pulse, to ascertain how far he could be trusted not to scream andmake an uproar. Such a task was exactly suited to a lady of such tactand discretion as mademoiselle, and she gladly undertook the office.
Toinon, mightily displeased at the way things were going, was rackedby apprehension. It seemed to her as if she and her mistress werebeing gradually enwrapped in the glutinous film of spiders, whichuncomely creatures by and by would quietly devour them. Such a_menage_ as that of Lorge, despite its outward calm, was abnormal. Herdear mistress dwelt in strict retirement in her own house. A band ofharpies (among which, I regret to say, she reckoned her master) weresecretly conspiring, and the result of their machinations could notbut be harmful. They whispered in corners, deliberated with closeddoors, discussed and argued something earnestly at all times andseasons, and if somebody approached them, they suddenly grew silent.What could they be conspiring? For two pins, popping her insultedvanity into her pocket, she would write to the truant Jean, of whomshe vaguely heard sometimes as being quite of importance at Blois. Ifhe had grown out of his love for Toinon, his blindness was to bedeplored; bu
t righteously indignant as that damsel felt at hisneglect, she never for a moment doubted his honesty, howeverdeplorable his opinions. Jean respected both the marquise and herfoster-sister, and if carried away from his allegiance by politics,she felt none the less certain that, were she to summon him, he wouldcome. But how could she summon him? He would laugh at her fears, and,on the principle of "Wolf, wolf," would not obey a second summons. Allshe could report was that madame was unhappy and neglected, that theobjectionable ex-governess had come and was on the point of going, andthat, meanwhile, she and the brothers were given to whispering incorners. It was absurd, and Jean would be justified in laughing ather. He had left his dog behind him in her care, as an unfit companionfor a deputy at Blois, and as the faithful beast followed her about,gazing into her eyes with canine sympathy, she would suddenlysometimes sink upon the floor, and clasping his woolly head in hercomely arms, whisper to him, "Oh, my dear! I am so sorely troubled.How I wish you could tell me what to do!"
As to her master, he was quite different from what he used to be. Inold days, who so spick and span, so punctiliously prim in his attire?His face used then to wear a dreamy expression of philanthropicalbeatitude, which, if somewhat trying, was free of blame. Now heneglected his dress, his shoulders were rounded. He muttered betweenhis teeth, as he wandered with bent head, and when he raised it, hiseyes were bloodshot, his features convulsed by passion--torn by somesecret dread. He was always brooding, and on some subject whichstirred the lees, erstwhile so undisturbed, of evil thoughts. Themarquis was changing a _vue d'[oe]il_, and the change was not for thebetter.
Toinon, with her dog behind her, was slowly mounting the stair oneday, revolving for the thousandth time the pros and cons of herperplexity, when she perceived that the outer door of the abbe'ssanctum was open--an unusual circumstance, for had he not taken tohimself this tiny chamber by reason of its double doors? The abigailhesitated. Should she descend to prying? If she did it would be forthe best motives, and if she heard anything that concerned her not itmight as well be consigned to a tomb. She could detect the mellifluousaccents of the abbe, apparently in remonstrance, then the voice ofmademoiselle, very low and earnest, broken by something smothered fromthe marquis, who spoke in tones of pain. What could they be discussingso earnestly? Raising her finger to caution the dog to silence, shestole down a-tiptoe, and holding her breath, listened.
Not for long, however, for the marquis of a sudden cried out, "I willnever consent to such strong measures--never--never--never. They aretoo full of risk;" and was evidently moving towards the door when hisprogress was arrested by the abbe.
"Leave it to us, dear brother; leave it to us," the latter wasrepeating, soothingly. "If not your poor brother and your devotedfriend, who else in the wide world are you to trust? It is as plain asdaylight that we must leave France ere long, and your obstinate wifewill never consent to go with us. Well, well; she doubtless will besafe here if we are not, and if we get into trouble, she will berather pleased than otherwise. Do as you are advised. Take yonderdocument and raise on it at Blois or Tours a little money for presentexpenses. We are out of cash, as you know, since you so properly stoodout against the allowance. You can easily raise money on that paper.Is not everybody scraping together all they can in order to be offwhile there is time? Go, dear lad, perform your portion of the task,and leave the rest to us."
"What of her, then?" Clovis inquired in doubt.
"Meddle, meddle, meddle--why will you meddle?" retorted Pharamond,laughing. "I daresay she will live on here for many years, or perhapsnot--who knows? Suffice it for the moment that we men must fly acrossthe border."
Then came something more from mademoiselle, which the eavesdroppercould not catch, and Toinon had but time to flee with all her speed tothe upper storey, ere the marquis opened the door. He was sighing andmoaning and muttering in most extraordinary fashion.
Peeping from the landing above she could see that he trembled like aleaf, and did not fail to mark the abbe's sneer of triumph as helooked after his departing brother.
"He has been sent away from Lorge," she murmured, with wrinkles on herbrow. "He is to go, and to take madame's testament along with him.Those two demons are victorious, and we are at their mercy. What dothey intend to do? Nothing that bodes good to us."
The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 3 (of 3) Page 2
