VII
OUT OF THE JAWS OF DEATH
Being a fragment from the diary of Valentine Lemercier, in thepossession of her great-granddaughter.
We were such a happy family before this terrible Revolution broke out;we lived rather simply, but very comfortably, in our dear old home juston the borders of the forest of Compiegne. Jean and Andre were thetwins; just fifteen years old they were when King Louis was deposed fromthe throne of France which God had given him, and sent to prison like acommon criminal, with our beautiful Queen Marie Antoinette and the Royalchildren, and Madame Elizabeth, who was so beloved by the poor!
Ah! that seems very, very long ago now. No doubt you know better than Ido all that happened in our beautiful land of France and in lovely Parisabout that time: goods and property confiscated, innocent men, women,and children condemned to death for acts of treason which they had nevercommitted.
It was in August last year that they came to "Mon Repos" and arrestedpapa, and maman, and us four young ones and dragged us to Paris, wherewe were imprisoned in a narrow and horribly dank vault in the Abbaye,where all day and night through the humid stone walls we heard cries andsobs and moans from poor people, who no doubt were suffering the samesorrows and the same indignities as we were.
I had just passed my nineteenth birthday, and Marguerite was onlythirteen. Maman was a perfect angel during that terrible time; she keptup our courage and our faith in God in a way that no one else could havedone. Every night and morning we knelt round her knee and papa sat closebeside her, and we prayed to God for deliverance from our ownafflictions, and for the poor people who were crying and moaning all theday.
But of what went on outside our prison walls we had not an idea, thoughsometimes poor papa would brave the warder's brutalities and ask himquestions of what was happening in Paris every day.
"They are hanging all the aristos to the street-lamps of the city," theman would reply with a cruel laugh, "and it will be your turn next."
We had been in prison for about a fortnight, when one day--oh! shall Iever forget it?--we heard in the distance a noise like the rumbling ofthunder; nearer and nearer it came, and soon the sound became lessconfused, cries and shrieks could be heard above that rumbling din; butso weird and menacing did those cries seem that instinctively--thoughnone of us knew what they meant--we all felt a nameless terror grip ourhearts.
Oh! I am not going to attempt the awful task of describing to you allthe horrors of that never-to-be-forgotten day. People, who to-day cannotspeak without a shudder of the September massacres, have not theremotest conception of what really happened on that awful second day ofthat month.
We are all at peace and happy now, but whenever my thoughts fly back tothat morning, whenever the ears of memory recall those hideous yells offury and of hate, coupled with the equally horrible cries for pity,which pierced through the walls behind which the six of us werecrouching, trembling, and praying, whenever I think of it all my heartstill beats violently with that same nameless dread which held it in itsdeathly grip then.
Hundreds of men, women, and children were massacred in the prisons ofthat day--it was a St. Bartholomew even more hideous than the last.
Maman was trying in vain to keep our thoughts fixed upon God--papa saton the stone bench, his elbows resting on his knees, his head buried inhis hands; but maman was kneeling on the floor, with her dear armsencircling us all and her trembling lips moving in continuous prayer.
We felt that we were facing death--and what a death, O my God!
Suddenly the small grated window--high up in the dank wall--becameobscured. I was the first to look up, but the cry of terror which rosefrom my heart was choked ere it reached my throat.
Jean and Andre looked up, too, and they shrieked, and so did Marguerite,and papa jumped up and ran to us and stood suddenly between us and thewindow like a tiger defending its young.
But we were all of us quite silent now. The children did not even cry;they stared, wide-eyed, paralysed with fear.
Only maman continued to pray, and we could hear papa's rapid andstertorous breathing as he watched what was going on at that windowabove.
Heavy blows were falling against the masonry round the grating, and wecould hear the nerve-racking sound of a file working on the iron bars;and farther away, below the window, those awful yells of human beingstransformed by hate and fury into savage beasts.
How long this horrible suspense lasted I cannot now tell you; the nextthing I remember clearly is a number of men in horrible ragged clothingpouring into our vault-like prison from the window above; the nextmoment they rushed at us simultaneously--or so it seemed to me, for Iwas just then recommending my soul to God, so certain was I that in thatsame second I would cease to live.
It was all like a dream, for instead of the horrible shriek of satisfiedhate which we were all expecting to hear, a whispering voice, commandingand low, struck our ears and dragged us, as it were, from out the abyssof despair into the sudden light of hope.
"If you will trust us," the voice whispered, "and not be afraid, youwill be safely out of Paris within an hour."
Papa was the first to realise what was happening; he had never lost hispresence of mind even during the darkest moment of this terrible time,and he said quite calmly and steadily now:
"What must we do?"
"Persuade the little ones not to be afraid, not to cry, to be as stilland silent as may be," continued the voice, which I felt must be that ofone of God's own angels, so exquisitely kind did it sound to my ear.
"They will be quiet and still without persuasion," said papa; "eh,children?"
And Jean, Andre, and Marguerite murmured: "Yes!" whilst maman and I drewthem closer to us and said everything we could think of to make themstill more brave.
And the whispering, commanding voice went on after awhile:
"Now will you allow yourselves to be muffled and bound, and, after that,will you swear that whatever happens, whatever you may see or hear, youwill neither move nor speak? Not only your own lives, but those of manybrave men will depend upon your fulfilment of this oath."
Papa made no reply save to raise his hand and eyes up to where Godsurely was watching over us all. Maman said in her gentle, even voice:
"For myself and my children, I swear to do all that you tell us."
A great feeling of confidence had entered into her heart, just as it haddone into mine. We looked at one another and knew that we were boththinking of the same thing: we were thinking of the brave Englishman andhis gallant little band of heroes, about whom we had heard manywonderful tales--how they had rescued a number of innocent people whowere unjustly threatened with the guillotine; and we all knew that thetall figure, disguised in horrible rags, who spoke to us with such agentle yet commanding voice, was the man whom rumour credited withsupernatural powers, and who was known by the mysterious name of "TheScarlet Pimpernel."
Hardly had we sworn to do his bidding than his friends mostunceremoniously threw great pieces of sacking over our heads, and thenproceeded to tie ropes round our bodies. At least, I know that that iswhat one of them was doing to me, and from one or two whispered words ofcommand which reached my ear I concluded that papa and maman and thechildren were being dealt with in the same summary way.
I felt hot and stifled under that rough bit of sacking, but I would nothave moved or even sighed for worlds. Strangely enough, as soon as myeyes and ears were shut off from the sounds and sights immediately roundme, I once more became conscious of the horrible and awful din which wasgoing on, not only on the other side of our prison walls, but inside thewhole of the Abbaye building and in the street beyond.
Once more I heard those terrible howls of rage and of satisfied hatred,uttered by the assassins who were being paid by the government of ourbeautiful country to butcher helpless prisoners in their hundreds.
Suddenly I felt myself hoisted up off my feet and slung up on to a pairof shoulders that must have been very powerful indeed, for I am no lightweight, an
d once more I heard the voice, the very sound of which wasdelight, quite close to my ear this time, giving a brief andcomprehensive command:
"All ready!--remember your part--en avant!"
Then it added in English. "Here, Tony, you start kicking against thedoor whilst we begin to shout!"
I loved those few words of English, and hoped that maman had heard themtoo, for it would confirm her--as it did me--in the happy knowledge thatGod and a brave man had taken our rescue in hand.
But from that moment we might have all been in the very ante-chamber ofhell. I could hear the violent kicks against the heavy door of ourprison, and our brave rescuers seemed suddenly to be transformed into acageful of wild beasts. Their shouts and yells were as horrible as anythat came to us from the outside, and I must say that the gentle, firmvoice which I had learnt to love was as execrable as any I could hear.
Apparently the door would not yield, as the blows against it became moreand more violent, and presently from somewhere above my head--the windowpresumably--there came a rough call, and a raucous laugh:
"Why? what in the name of---- is happening here?"
And the voice near me answered back equally roughly: "A quarry ofsix--but we are caught in this confounded trap--get the door open forus, citizen--we want to get rid of this booty and go in search formore."
A horrible laugh was the reply from above, and the next instant I hearda terrific crash; the door had at last been burst open, either fromwithin or without, I could not tell which, and suddenly all the din, thecries, the groans, the hideous laughter and bibulous songs which hadsounded muffled up to now burst upon us with all their hideousness.
That was, I think, the most awful moment of that truly fearful hour. Icould not have moved then, even had I wished or been able to do so; butI knew that between us all and a horrible, yelling, murdering mob therewas now nothing--except the hand of God and the heroism of a band ofEnglish gentlemen.
Together they gave a cry--as loud, as terrifying as any that wereuttered by the butchering crowd in the building, and with a wild rushthey seemed to plunge with us right into the thick of the awful melee.
At least, that is what it all felt like to me, and afterwards I heardfrom our gallant rescuer himself that that is exactly what he and hisfriends did. There were eight of them altogether, and we four young oneshad each been hoisted on a pair of devoted shoulders, whilst maman andpapa were each carried by two men.
I was lying across the finest pair of shoulders in the world, and closeto me was beating the bravest heart on God's earth.
Thus burdened, these eight noble English gentlemen charged right throughan army of butchering, howling brutes, they themselves howling with thefiercest of them.
All around me I heard weird and terrific cries: "What ho! citizens--whathave you there?"
"Six aristos!" shouted my hero boldly as he rushed on, forging his waythrough the crowd.
"What are you doing with them?" yelled a raucous voice.
"Food for the starving fish in the river," was the ready response."Stand aside, citizen," he added, with a round curse; "I have my ordersfrom citizen Danton himself about these six aristos. You hinder me atyour peril."
He was challenged over and over again in the same way, and so were hisfriends who were carrying papa and maman and the children; but they werealways ready with a reply, ready with an invective or a curse; with eyesthat could not see, one could imagine them as hideous, as vengeful, ascruel as the rest of the crowd.
I think that soon I must have fainted from sheer excitement and terror,for I remember nothing more till I felt myself deposited on a hardfloor, propped against the wall, and the stifling piece of sacking takenoff my head and face.
I looked around me, dazed and bewildered; gradually the horrors of thepast hour came back to me, and I had to close my eyes again, for I feltsick and giddy with the sheer memory of it all.
But presently I felt stronger and looked around me again. Jean and Andrewere squatting in a corner close by, gazing wide-eyed at the group ofmen in filthy, ragged clothing, who sat round a deal table in the centreof a small, ill-furnished room.
Maman was lying on a horsehair sofa at the other end of the room, withMarguerite beside her, and papa sat in a low chair by her side, holdingher hand.
The voice I loved was speaking in its quaint, somewhat drawly cadence:
"You are quite safe now, my dear Monsieur Lemercier," it said; "afterMadame and the young people have had a rest, some of my friends willfind you suitable disguises, and they will escort you out of Paris, asthey have some really genuine passports in their possessions, which weobtain from time to time through the agency of a personage highly placedin this murdering government, and with the help of English banknotes.Those passports are not always unchallenged, I must confess," added myhero with a quaint laugh; "but to-night everyone is busy murdering inone part of Paris, so the other parts are comparatively safe."
Then he turned to one of his friends and spoke to him in English:
"You had better see this through, Tony," he said, "with Hastings andMackenzie. Three of you will be enough; I shall have need of theothers."
No one seemed to question his orders. He had spoken, and the others madeready to obey. Just then papa spoke up:
"How are we going to thank you, sir?" he asked, speaking broken English,but with his habitual dignity of manner.
"By leaving your welfare in our hands, Monsieur," replied our gallantrescuer quietly.
Papa tried to speak again, but the Englishman put up his hand to stopany further talk.
"There is no time now, Monsieur," he said with gentle courtesy. "I mustleave you, as I have much work yet to do."
"Where are you going, Blakeney?" asked one of the others.
"Back to the Abbaye prison," he said; "there are other women andchildren to be rescued there!"
The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel Page 7
