CHAPTER XVI.
THE ABBE IS TERRIBLY PERPLEXED.
Further surprises of a bewildering kind awaited our abbe in thecapital, which blurred the growing clearness of his sky. The temporarytranquillity of Touraine had deceived him, for events had been passingin other parts of France of gravest import, of which hitherto he wasunaware. The scum of the earth had in the general upheaval risen, ashe feared, to the surface, and emitted nauseous savours.
Names new to him were in every mouth, and, the last doubts swept away,he saw with concern for his own safety that the ship of state, guidedby such agitators as he saw around, was predestined to disaster. Urgedby curiosity, he attended the meetings of new-fangled clubs, and wasamazed at the language used there--words which a couple of years agowould have jeopardized the heads of the speakers. He read the _Ami duPeuple_, a popular journal edited by one, Marat, which openlyadvocated regicide; and became acquainted with a forbidding person ofgreenish complexion and smooth aspect whom men called Robespierre.Were these ever to obtain mastery in the confusion, there were darkdays in store for France, much tribulation for scions of nobility.Their majesties were still residing at the Tuileries, but how draggledwas the royal ermine! The queen dared not to look out of a window forfear of insult. Stepping, on one occasion, into an inner court tobreathe some air, the soldier on guard shook his fist at her andcourteously declared how pleased he would be to have her head upon hisbayonet. Anarchy and crime marched hand in hand, no longer keeping inthe shadow; and the worst of all was that the movement Pharamond hadbeen watching showed signs--as by this time the blindest of molesmight perceive--of being no transient one, which interference fromwithout might quell. A mighty nation had risen in its strength toprotest against intolerable abuses, and so many villains and madmenhad risen in wild crusade against things established, that no wonderit lost its senses. True, a good proportion of villains and madmen hadalready gone under in the conflict, having devoured each otherpiecemeal; but as these disappeared others, every bit as vile, aroseto fill their places.
The long threatened collision with other nations was by this time afact. The country was formally declared to be in danger. All theremaining property of those who had fled was seized in obedience to anedict promulgated some time since, to defray the expenses of theconflict.
The first act, and one of marked significance, dictated to the abbe bycaution, was a change of garb, for in April, when religiouscommunities were suppressed, the wearing of ecclesiastical costumeswas prohibited. When religion topples, chaos shows its face.
Seeing what he saw on all sides, Pharamond might well be anxious, andlook forward with interest to the reading of de Breze's will. Withinits parchment folds lay the key of the future, for upon the conditionsexpressed in the document hung the fortune of the party, and he couldnot but feel serious misgivings with regard to inconvenientstipulations. He had been wrong in supposing that the storm could beweathered at Lorge; of that all he beheld in Paris spoke witheloquence. Sooner or later, every noble in the land would be compelledto emigrate, or gravely risk his life. It was merely a question of howmuch the sooner or the later their party must join the exodus.
It was a fortunate thing that de Breze long ago should have depositedthe bulk of the money bags in Necker's bank at Geneva. The Chateau ofLorge must be left to its fate. It really mattered little, since whenprovided with means, palaces will spring up at our bidding on eligiblespots. It was essential to learn without delay whether he had left hisfortune to the marquise absolutely, or vested it, under care oftrustees, for her benefit. In the latter case she was safe, for itwould be necessary to be civil to her always, which would befatiguing; in the former, she must be cajoled to leave the countrywith the brothers, for some quiet place, where she could be skilfullymoulded to their wishes. But what if, for some whimsy, she refused, orif there were special stipulations which would interfere with aflitting? After that artful trick of the clandestine letter there wasno trusting her apparent openness. Well, well, there was no use inidle speculation. It was a most lucky circumstance, in any case, thather only protector should be dead.
M. Galland read the will to the brothers in the absence of theheiress, for she was too much overcome by her loss to care about theprovisions of the testament; and Clovis raged inwardly the while, forthe solicitor had a dubious way of glancing from one to the other ofthe three, which could hardly be called respectful. The effect of thereading on the auditors was curiously different. The chevalier blinkedand smiled, as if he scarcely understood; the abbe, not displeased,nodded politely from time to time, and purred out his satisfaction;Clovis had much ado to conceal his disappointment.
The property was left to the marquise absolutely, the will being a newone, signed a few hours before death. It was worded with extreme care,so that the entire inheritance should be at her own disposal, out ofreach of Clovis as of others. This to clever Pharamond seemed a smallmatter, for had not the lady shown in the past that she wasindifferent to dross, and would it not be an amusing bit of diplomacyto direct her as to its disposal? There were no vexatiousstipulations: so far, well; and the nimble mind of the abbe beganstraightway to erect new card-castles for the housing of the covetedmoney bags. Clovis was exasperated, which was a good point that mightbe played on with advantage later. It was evident that his vanity wastouched on the raw, for, filled as he was with deep resentment, itsmouldered all the more fiercely in that he was ashamed to show it.
Was his spouse to nip his nose with the tongs for the rest of hisnatural life? Was he to be an obedient serf who could not touch astiver without her express consent? At the time of his marriage he wasnot troubled on the subject, because the money being the marechal's itwas necessary, for the time being, to submit to his crotchety but notilliberal ways. But now that he was dead? The husband was to bendbeneath the yoke, to be under the thumb of this wife of his, who hadshown recently that she could assert herself, and who would, ofcourse, now that she knew her power and disliked her spouse, use it tooppress and injure him.
As the trio walked home from M. Galland's office, the usually dreamymarquis was roused to a pitch of ire which Pharamond fanned into aflame.
"My poor fellow," he said, "I bleed for you, but we must make the bestof a bad job. Be civil to her, always civil, and she will let you dipinto her purse."
"Let me, indeed!" growled Clovis, in dudgeon.
This was just where the tongs pinched most painfully. His olfactoryorgan still tingled with the tweaking which it received in the matterof the affinity's expulsion, and now he was exhorted to sit downmeekly and extend his nose to the torturer.
"I suppose," he cried, in his vexation, "that each time I require anew pair of breeches I must beg her, on my bare knees, to sign theorder."
Splendid! The abbe was delighted, for this was quite the mentalcondition in which he wished to see his brother. If the fortune hadbeen left in the hands of the husband, as would have been proper, thetactics of the astute one would have been mapped out with simpleclearness. He would have exerted his power over the marquis to obtainhis share of the spoil. But with one to whom intrigue was as thebreath of life, so humdrum a way of settling business could not findfavour. If we would break up a bundle of sticks, we untie the stringthat binds them and operate separately upon each. Was it not possiblefinally to stop personal communication between the husband and thewife, and establish himself as go-between, availing himself ofopportunities? The further he kept them apart the greater his owninfluence would be, and, as things were, it might soon be of thegreatest importance to establish a firm authority. To this end,therefore, he patted his fuming brother on the shoulder withaffectionate familiarity.
"Come, come!" he laughed. "It is only silly children who quarrel withtheir bread and butter. The proceedings of the marechal were malignantand preposterous. Curb your feelings, and bury your chagrin deep down,and never let her guess your most righteous indignation. You shall notbe so far degraded if I can help it, as to have to sue
in person formoney. She likes and trusts me. Let me be your _homme d'affaires_, andact as mediator between you."
Clovis was grateful for being thus saved from a humiliating position,and Gabrielle tacitly agreed to the arrangement without reflectingmuch upon the subject. She naturally shrank from too frequent conversewith the man whom she had ceased to love.
"What he wants for his pleasures, he can have, and welcome," she said,with a sad smile; "but he must not be unduly extravagant. I am goingto blossom out into a terrible woman of business for the sake ofVictor and Camille. When they come of age they shall have cause tobless me for my thrift."
A woman of business? That would never do. But there was no danger ofit. The charming lady was not endowed with business capacities. Thisinfant-worship of hers was rather tiresome. Would it lead tomortifying complications? _Not_ if the sensitive instrument ofher character was played upon with caution. To think that thatnever-sufficiently-to-be-execrated Aglae should have been such a foolas to try and strike at her through the adored cherubs--apples of thematernal eyes!
Well, that Marplot was well out of the road, and the abbe was pleasedto be quit of so deceitful a coadjutor. He took the earliestopportunity to sound the marquise as to future plans. To his way ofthinking it behoved the family to make quietly for Geneva, there torejoin the money bags, and it would be well to find out, if, in hernew capacity, she proposed to put down her foot. He accordinglyremarked one day that Paris was a seething caldron, out of which itwould be prudent to escape.
"No," replied Gabrielle, quietly, "I have no intention of leaving atpresent; my place is here, and I am no poltroon. My mother wants me,and so does the queen; and there is much business to arrange with M.Galland. The little ones are happy at Lorge with Toinon, where we willgo and see them later."
"But Lorge may be burnt over our heads," objected Pharamond. "Excuseme; but you fail to grasp the situation, which is much more seriousthan you suppose."
"I shall certainly not leave France," returned Gabrielle, withdecision. "No one will hurt us in Touraine, for we are beloved andrespected, and the hearts of the people shall be our bulwarks."
This was rather a bad beginning to the newly-inaugurated regime. Itwas unwelcomely manifest that the foot was down. She had nevermentioned her husband or referred to his possible desires. That wassignificant. Pshaw! she was a woman who was made to lean on others,and just now she was supported by the queen, the family solicitor, andother meddlesome advisers, and was thereby induced to assume anindependence which was foreign to her nature. So she was bent onreturning to Lorge? Well and good, the sojourn must be brief.The temporary props being left behind, others would have to besupplied--by him. Pressure could be brought to bear within the wallsof the grim chateau, and so soon as it should be urgent to flit, why,then there should be a flitting. For the present she was mistress ofthe situation, and till a change could be brought about, must have herway unchallenged.
As for Clovis, with much spare time upon his hands, his idle hourswere spent in brooding and regret, and the yearning that besetshumanity to have things other than they are. He was both fascinatedand disgusted by the scenes that passed around him, episodes whichserved to increase the peevishness due to private worries.
He was haunted by the idea that if Gabrielle had refrained fromwriting that letter, the marechal would not have so disposed hisproperty as to secure it against his son-in-law. But that piece of slyimpertinence on the part of the lady who bore his name had puteverything agog. But for her all apprehensions might ere this havebeen removed. He would have been independent; have betaken himself andthe magic tub to some other land under the guidance of the dearaffinity; have escaped from the turmoil of politics, the noisy babbleof miscreants and cutthroats; be enjoying in peace the applause andserenity which go with success in science. Instead of that, here washe, the Marquis de Gange, kicking his heels in a capital whichresembled in its wild proceedings the mental phantasmagoria thatfollows indigestion, deprived even of the consoling presence of herwho knew how to comfort him.
Pharamond was all very well in his way, always obliging and cheery,but somehow or other his sweetness left a taste in the mouth that wasbitter, even acrid. How this should be Clovis was at a loss tocomprehend, for there was no doubt that the abbe was sincerely sorryfor his brother's woeful plight, and did all that in him lay to prunethe thorns that pricked him. As Clovis meditated, topics were evercropping up which he longed to discuss with the governess; but, alas,alas! thanks to the insane jealousy of a most annoying wife, thecharmer was gone--her place knew her no more!
To brood over the halcyon days which are gone by is conducive tosnappishness, and, after a chewing of the cud, to chronic sullennessand gnawing discontent. Sometimes the marquis would strive to rousehimself from dismal reverie, and force himself to take interest inwhat was passing; but the contemplation thereof only led to furtherdisapproval, for he found himself in company that revolted him. Tothink that he, a noble of high rank, should find himself cheek by jowlwith the low, dirty, foul-mouthed scribbler, whose name was Marat!People's friend, forsooth! If a wolf could write a journal, the brutecould not raven more thirstily for blood. Blood--not in drops from asingle breast, nor even in a river from the slaughter of families. Hehowled for the crimson liquor in the profusion of an ocean from theinstinctive love of it which impels the tiger to rend his mangledvictim after his hunger is appeased. Then to have to be civil to thatdandified Robespierre, whom instinct whispered was one of the comingmen--one whose talents were insignificant and oratory wretched, butwho plodded ahead to his goal with a passionless undeviating pitilessperseverance that was appalling; one who boasted with apatheticcruelty that to gain a point the immolation of a generation was asnothing; who was already clamouring for the sacrifice of the royalfamily, and of all who were tainted with nobility.
To visit the palace was to be distracted with indignant pity. Thoughthe son of St. Louis still ate off silver plate, the most elaborateprecautions were taken to secure him against poison. The wine hedrank, the food he ate, was introduced secretly by devoted friends.Not a scrap passed his lips that was supplied from the royal kitchens.Things had gone so far that there was no safety--as the hapless kinghad realized on the eve of the Varennes disaster--but in flight. Hisfriends in Paris could be of little service, for he was as close aprisoner in the gilded Tuileries as the felon in his cell--in a worseplight than the convicted assassin in his jail, whom the rabble wereforbidden to persecute.
Clovis could perceive as clearly now as Pharamond that so acute asituation could not last. This was a state of crisis which should havenearly attained its apogee, and which promised to result incatastrophe. And here was the Gange family lingering on in the mostundesirable manner instead of making itself scarce, and skipping outof danger. As we know, Clovis was not too brave, and preferredscientific to military triumphs. If other nobles viewed the situationfrom a long way off, why should not he also? What was it to him thatthe continued outpouring of landholders had unhinged the public mind,and that the exodus of those who should have rallied round theirmonarch was indeed the greatest cause of the miseries that loomedahead? By deserting their native land at the most critical period ofits history, the French nobility cast a stain on their order, whichmay never be wiped out. At this time, no less than a hundred thousandof the most influential class had turned their backs upon theircountry!
The marquis exhorted and implored his brother to speak to Gabrielle,to beg her to be sensible and go, before it was too late. With perfecttruth (for once) Pharamond declared that he had done his best--thatGabrielle was obstinate and declined to budge--adding, with aconciliatory smile, that Clovis must practise the unruffled calm thatsprings from a tranquil mind; that when the new-blown prerogative ofmanaging people was more familiar to the heiress, she would be lessheadstrong, more considerate.
"It was too bad," groaned Clovis, who really was growing frightened.The details of the inheritance settled, what was to detain a party ofprovincials, who no longer had business in the
dangerous proximity ofthe whirlpool? If the heritage had been left in a proper manner, allwould have been well; for there would be nothing more natural than forthe head of the family to issue peremptory and dignified orders forimmediate departure. Even Gabrielle, who steadfastly declined to be ofthe elect, ought--by reason of her gentle birth--to have preferred thephilanthropic society of an adept and the virtues of a magic tub at asafe distance, to the chance of rubbing shoulders with a Marat or aRobespierre, or enduring blue-stocking lectures from an upstart MadameRoland. Though young and handsome, that person was a politicalpen-woman--horrid precedent! But the contrariness of the femininenature is proverbial. As was to be expected, the heiress was gloatingover the shame of those she held in leash, and refused to leave thehurly-burly just to annoy her husband.
As to this Pharamond fully agreed with Clovis. There was nothing to begained but possible mishaps by lingering in Paris; and he was the moreanxious to be off that he found himself a nonentity there. The fieldshe burned to cultivate were lying fallow. His house of cards wasmaking no progress; he seemed actually to be losing ground. The abbewas a busy bee whose time was being wasted.
Had not Gabrielle and Clovis become hopelessly estranged she mighthave confided to him her deep sorrow for the queen, and herunflinching determination to remain beside her, so long as she couldbe of use. In better days, the queen had been her benefactress, andshe loved her as all did who knew her well.
But days of confidence were over now, never to be recalled. Theseasons revolved, and spring came round again to find the De Gangesstill in Paris.
It is only fair to say that Clovis was sorry for the position of theirmajesties; but being of lymphatic temperament he had decided long agothat disagreeable things which could not be helped, and which did notinjure himself, were promptly to be set aside.
Ill-starred Marie Antoinette! Is it to underline the fact of mundaneinjustice that the innocent are so often scapegoats for the blacksheep? There was no abomination, however monstrous, of which the mob,maddened by professional agitators, did not believe her to be capable.Murder, adultery, theft.
She sometimes mournfully reminded Gabrielle of the evening--it musthave been a thousand years ago--when they had discussed theirhoroscopes. "The iron grave-clothes, as was foretold, are slowlywrapping me," she said, "to stifle my breath and crush my bones. Ihope and believe, dear Gabrielle, that your prophet lied, for you arecontent and well. Happiness, we all are bound to learn does not exist.That will perhaps appear as a fresh and welcome acquaintance at somelater stage of the long journey. You are well, my dear, and I am glad,but I may not keep you, for here we are under the ban. I would nothave the faithful few to share the fate which daily approachesnearer."
Gabrielle sighed, but kept her counsel, for why should she inflicther own sorrows on one so sorely stricken? Content? No. Not eventhat--much less happy. She who needed sympathy and support so muchthat without them she felt her fibres paralysed, had come to know thatall the battles of our inner life must be fought out alone, hand tohand, in solitude, and that no friend, not even the dearest, canhelp us in the conflict. She had learned that much during hours ofself-communing at Lorge, and the discovery dismayed her. In the nextworld, the Christians say there is no marrying or giving in marriage.Each soul is a single unit, the bonds of life-chains shattered. It isso even in this life, though many see it not; when the real tusslecomes, the spirit stands unaided, deprived of succour from without, totriumph or to fall alone.
It was her anxious wish to stay beside the queen and cheer her, and byso doing cheer herself. To be certain that some one longed for heradvent, and that her appearance in a doorway was like the glinting ofa welcome sunbeam, was a novel and refreshing sensation after thegruesome experiences of Lorge. There was no need to trouble about theprodigies, seeing that they were enjoying the best of air undersurveillance of Toinon and her betrothed. The old mother, who sadlymissed the perennial scoldings of the irascible defunct, also neededher presence, for was she not more helpless than her child? Gabrielle,counselled by M. Galland, had settled that the old lady was to move toa small house of modest aspect in the suburbs, where she couldvegetate unharmed by revolutionary turbulence, and arranged with thefamily solicitor to keep a watchful eye on her.
The marquise had a variety of reasons, then, for desiring to remain inthe capital.
Idleness brings out the bad points of most people; and both Clovis andPharamond were chafing. The latter, having nothing else to do, studiedhis brother carefully, and the proceeding increased his disquietude.Clovis fretted, and fumed, and yawned, and wished himself away,listening with eagerness to the abbe's insidious innuendoes, thengrowling and muttering to himself. He had something on his mind whichhe was keeping back. It was not well that he should keep anything fromthe abbe, so the son of the Church, with appropriate little jestsanent confession, set himself to expose the secret. It was as instinctbade him fear. Clovis was hankering after the absent affinity.
Pharamond had had cause to suspect that since the advent ofMademoiselle Brunelle his own power had been permanently weakened. Ashe had told Gabrielle, to obtain complete mastery over this waveringspecimen of fleshliness it was necessary that the leading-rein shouldbe held by a woman; and--without fault of his--the abbe chanced to bea man.
The marquis had not been aware of the delights of femininecompanionship till the arrival of the enchanting governess, andPharamond understood with reluctance now that although the subject hadbeen tabooed, Clovis yet pined for his affinity. He remembered theparting words of Aglae at the moment of her banishment. "In thesolitude of the country," she had said, "the neophyte would miss her."The capital under its present aspect was as lonely to him, for he hadalways been more or less of a recluse, and most of his town friendshad joined the army of emigrants.
To avoid contact with the scum, and to save appearances in the matterof compulsory attendance on his wife, he had taken up his studies withardour in the capital, and missed his late comrade each day more andmore. As his lips unclosed, he poured forth his confession to thechurchman; Pharamond reflected with perturbation that if the templewere left long without its tenant, a new one might crawl in andoccupy. What was to prevent this flabby Clovis, since he felt the voidso much, from seeking another adept, even from applying to Mesmer forjust such another siren as the last? And if he did, what of the abbeand his plans? Though not so docile as could be wished, and given tocasual deceit, it was possible for the abbe and the governess to worktogether smoothly enough. That much had been proven. Supposing that,taking the bull by the horns, he were cunningly to bring about herre-introduction into the _menage_, would she be grateful, and, singing_peccavi_, promise to behave better in future? Gratitude is so scarcea commodity! And by what artifice could she be introduced againwithout raising a whirlwind of remonstrance? On the other hand, ifClovis were allowed to find another leader, the new affinity mighteschew an alliance with the abbe, even deliberately work for hissuppression. How complicated the game! How difficult were his cards toplay! Was it safe to leave the ball to roll, or must it be checked inmid career? How would the marquise behave deprived of parentalsupport, at sight of the apparition of her rival? These were knottyproblems, and another false move might mean irremediable discomfiture.Impossible as it was to see far ahead, it was necessary to feel stepby step like a blind man groping. How delicate an operation tore-introduce the massive form of the offender! On what plea, sinceafter what had passed she could not assume the attributes of teacher?Move the fragments of his puzzle as he would, they declined to fittogether, and the abbe ground his teeth with fury and confessed thatfor the moment he was nonplussed.
If only the marquise could be induced to return home quickly, removeherself from the influence of supporters. Would it be well to have afictitious message sent announcing the illness of the darlings? Ascrap of paper a few inches square would send her posting back toLorge at lightning speed; but then discovering that she was fooled,suspicion would arise, alert. Could Clovis be persuaded to go homewithout h
er? In that case his brothers must accompany him, lest, leftto his devices, he should do something regrettable; and it was ofequal importance to keep an eye on wife as well as husband.
Turning the subject over and over with infinite care, the abbeadmitted with an impatient sigh that for the time being he waspowerless, and that the ball must be allowed to roll. Meanwhile itwould be advisable not to lose touch of the governess, lest some day,when wanted, she should turn rusty and accuse him of neglect. Heaccordingly sat down and wrote a long and entertaining letter full ofsly quip and graphic description, ending with the assurance that themarquis did not forget, and that the humble scribe was her slave.
This precaution taken, he settled himself down to drift with handsbefore him: nor had he long to wait to perceive the direction of thecurrent.
It was the twentieth of June. The day was balmy, and the windows open.The queen sat in a low _causeuse_ in her tiny library relating to theMarquise de Gange the ominous occurrences of the morning. Paris was apenful of sheep now distracted by too many shepherds--a weathercockits most fitting symbol. What was happening every day would belaughable but for the lurid cloud above with its blood-red lining, andthe low rumbling of thunder, each hour more distinct. The Assemblywhose mission was to guide the nation was no better than a den ofnoxious animals, each bent on biting his neighbour. The president hadcommitted the grievous error of opening the flood-gates to the waters.The sacred precincts over which he ruled were thrown open to a mob ofthirty thousand scoundrels who, their imaginations inflamed by noveltyand drunken with success, licked their foul lips and prepared forfurther outrage. Women danced like M[oe]nads, waving a pike in onehand and an olive-branch in the other--symbols of peace and war. Froma chorus of brawny throats rolled the familiar strains of _Ca Ira_.The unkempt porters of the markets, the cadaverous workers from thecellars of St. Antoine; a weak-limbed squad, a sturdy crew ofruffians, equally bent on mischief, waved rude bits of jagged ironbound to the ends of bludgeons. There was no end to the muster. Womenpossessed of the devil Hysteria--men maddened and excited by thewomen. More men--more women--women--men. What did they want? What wasthe object of the saturnalia in the sacred precincts of the Assembly?Ragged breeches were held up with a yell of "_Vive les sansculottes!_" Some one flourished a pike aloft on which was transfixedthe bleeding heart of a calf. Through the drip the scrawleddescription could be deciphered--"This is the heart of an aristocrat!"
"If the accepted authorities were to be bearded thus, what next?"suggested Marie Antoinette. "We are marching straight downwards to ourdoom. We know it, and being blameless, look to the end withthankfulness. But when we are sacrificed--what then--afterwards.Apres?"
When Gabrielle strove to persuade her benefactress that she saw things_en noir_ the latter gave her haughty head a toss. "Conflict with theinevitable is not always an absurd mockery, for self-respect, when weare innocent, insists on battle to the death."
As she spoke a low rumble, increasing each second in volume whichseemed an echo of what she described as having dismayed the Assembly afew hours since, caused the ladies to look at each other in alarm.What was that ominous sound? Almost before they had time to realizethat it meant anguish and woe treading on each other's heels--it hadincreased to a deafening roar.
"They have burst into the gardens. Where are the little ones?" criedGabrielle, thinking of her own cherubs, happily far away. "I willfetch them. Their Royal Highnesses are in the next room, reading."
She sped away, and returning with the royal children presently, beheldher mistress leaning against the casement frame, stone white.
"Hist!" she said, her voice scarce audible above the noise. "Thewretches have invaded the palace--do they intend to fire it? Amidyonder sea of pikes and staves there is a cannon which they aredragging up the stairs. What for--for me? Into what a pandemonium werewe born!"
The uproar was like the lashing of an angry sea. The frightenedwomen could hear the grinding and creaking of the heavy gun as withvolleys of cries and curses it was lifted to the grand landing."Unbar the door or we will blow it down," some one shouted, in roughaccents--then followed a thunderous battering of pikes, the crushingand rending of panels and then--silence.
"They will kill him. They will kill him! Why am I not by his side?"murmured Marie Antoinette, writhing her hands together.
"I am here--what would you?" a steady voice said, cheerfully, risingabove the hubbub not far away.
"Vive la nation!" roared the rabble.
"Yes. Vive la nation. I am its best friend," replied the king.
Then there was a diversion. The trembling listeners were startled by anew roar of groans and hooting. "There she is--the curse of France.The Austrian! The Austrian! Down with her!"
"My God!" muttered the queen. "It must be Elizabeth whom they mistakefor me! My place is with them. Is a child of Maria Theresa to play thecur? Why am I skulking here?"
"Madame! They will tear you in pieces!" implored Gabrielle, clingingto her skirts.
"So be it," returned the queen proudly, and drawing herself up to herimperial height, she opened the door with steady hand and went forthwith her two children. Unrecognized, she penetrated as far as thecouncil chamber where a group of Grenadiers hastily surrounded andpushed her into the embrasure of a window which they barricaded with atable. For the present, to attempt to reach the king was hopeless. Thepalace was flooded with a ragged rout, who, in intervals of yellingpocketed such portable property as was handy. They were covered withdirt and blood, and, for the most part, wore the red cap recentlyintroduced by Collot d'Herbois as the orthodox symbol of the free.
Meanwhile a messenger had rushed to the Assembly to announce thedanger of the palace, and a number of deputies hastened thither withall speed, to slay the wreckers and prevent a tragedy. The mob, drunkwith too potent a dose of liberty, had committed a deplorable outrage,and were on the threshold of a great crime without definite purpose.Exhorted to sobriety, upbraided for excesses which stained the holycause in the face of Europe, the rabblement sulkily withdrew, gnashingtheir teeth and snarling with gestures of menace, as they filed pastthe queen; and she watched them go in gloomy silence, with a heartthat welled with horror and eyes that swam in tears.
For the moment peril was averted, the palace safe; but who might tellwhen the unreasoning flood, lashed by the agitators into foam, would,in caprice, flow back and drown its inmates? General indignationprevailed among all grades of the better classes. Though to the newway of thinking kings and queens might be objects of dislike, yet, solong as they existed, it was not fair that at any moment their privacyshould be invaded by the unwashed, their furniture broken, theirchildren terrified. The Assembly was ashamed. The partisans of thecourt were unwise enough to bluster. Rumours were abroad that, inconsequence of the outrage, the royal servants were to be armed; thatthe Swiss Guard would be ordered to fire upon the first sans-culottewho ventured within shot. So far was this from the truth that hismajesty had determined to dismiss from about his person thoseuntrustworthy friends, who, without possessing the power to save, hadso often compromised him. The queen, too, was firmly resolved that shewould not have upon her head the blood of those who were not directlyin her service. Gently, but without wavering, she bade adieu, amongstothers, to the Marquise de Gange, who begged hard for permission toremain.
"No," said Marie Antoinette, gloomily, "you have duties of your ownfrom which I must no longer keep you. Heaven bless you, my dearfriend. To such calumnies as may reach your ears you will give nocredence, but will pray for an unhappy woman who has not deserved herfate. Give me your thoughts and prayers, for we shall meet no more onearth."
Her forebodings were but too soon realized. Only seven weeks later thePalace of the Tuileries was stormed, and the devoted guards massacredunder circumstances of peculiar atrocity. Soon afterwards the royalfamily were removed to the Temple, whence, in the course of a longdrawn martyrdom, the unfortunate queen was transferred to a squalidhole in the Conciergerie on her rough road to the scaffold andrelease.
The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 2 (of 3) Page 6
