An Anxious Time
Harry and the girls had brought bundles of clothes with them
in their flight, as it would have looked strange had they arrived
without any clothes save those they wore. Harry had brought with him
only underlinen, as he had nothing else which would be of service
to him now. No sooner had Louise Moulin left him than he went out
and purchased, at a second-hand shop, a workman's suit. This he
carried home, and dressing himself in it descended the stairs again
and set out to retrace his steps across Paris.
When he reached the mansion of the marquis he found a crowd of
people going in and out. Those leaving the house were laden with
articles of furniture, clocks, pictures, bedding, and other things.
A complete sack of the mansion was indeed taking place. The servants
had all fled after the arrest of the marquis and his wife, and
the mob had taken possession of the house. The lofty mirrors were
smashed into fragments, the costly hangings torn down, and after
they had destroyed much of the elaborate furniture, every man and
woman began to lay hands upon whatever they fancied and the mansion
was already stripped of the greater part of its belongings.
With his hands in his pockets, whistling carelessly, Harry wandered
from room to room watching the proceedings. Several barrels of wine
had been brought up into the salon, and round these were gathered
a number of already drunken men, singing, shouting, and dancing.
"Drink, drink, my garcon," a woman said, holding a silver goblet
full of wine towards him, "drink confusion to the tyrants and
liberty and freedom to the people."
Harry drank the toast without hesitation, and then, heartsick
at the destruction and ruin, wandered out again into the streets.
Knowing the anxiety which Marie would be suffering as to the safety
of her lover he next took his way to the mansion of the Duke de
Gisons. The house was shut up, but groups of men were standing in
the road opposite talking.
Sauntering along Harry stopped near enough to one of these to hear
what they were saying. He learned that the duke had been arrested
only that morning. It had been effected quietly, the doors had
again been locked before those in the neighbourhood knew what was
going on, and a guard had been left inside, partly, it was said, in
order that the mansion might be preserved from pillage and be used
for public purposes, partly that the young count, who was absent,
might be arrested when he returned.
As Harry knew that the duke had estates in the neighbourhood of
Fontainebleau he thought it probable that Victor might have gone
thither, and he at once proceeded towards the gate by which he would
enter on his return thence. He sat down a short distance outside
the gate and watched patiently for some hours until he perceived a
horseman approaching at a gallop and at once recognized Victor de
Gisons. Harry went forward on to the road and held out his arms.
The young count, not recognizing him, did not check his horse and
would have ridden him down had he not jumped aside, at the same
time shouting to him by name to stop.
"What do you want, fellow?" Victor exclaimed, reining in his horse.
"You do not recognize me!" Harry said. "I am Harry Sandwith, count,
and I am here to warn you of the danger of proceeding."
"Why, what has happened?" Victor exclaimed anxiously; "and why are
you in disguise, Monsieur Sandwith?"
"A great number of arrests have taken place in the night, among them
that of the Marquis de St. Caux and your father. Men are waiting
inside your house to arrest you as you enter."
Victor uttered an exclamation of anger.
"That is why I have been sent away," he said. "My father had no
doubt received a warning of what was about to happen, and yesterday
at noon he requested me to ride to his estate and have an interview
with the steward as to the rents. I wondered at his sending me
so suddenly, and, feeling uneasy, rode there post-haste, saw the
steward last night, and started again on a fresh horse this morning.
This accounts for it. He knew that if I were there nothing would
have induced me to separate myself from him, while by sending me
away he left it to me to do as I thought fit afterwards, trusting
that when I found that he was already imprisoned I might follow the
counsel he had urged upon me, to make my escape from the country.
And how about the ladies, how about Marie?"
"The marquise was conveyed to prison with the marquis. The three
young ladies are all safe with their mother's old servant, Louise
Moulin; this is her address. They are in disguise as peasants, and
no suspicion will, I hope, arise as to their real position. Not
that the marquis thought it probable they would be included in
the order of arrest, but he said there was no knowing now to what
lengths the mob might go and he thought it better that they should
disappear altogether for the present. Ernest and Jules went away
in disguise with Monsieur du Tillet. After seeing the young ladies
in safety this morning I went down to see what had happened at your
father's mansion, in order to assuage Mademoiselle de St. Caux's
anxiety respecting your safety, and found, as I expected, that
the duke had been arrested, and learned that a party were inside
waiting to arrest you on your return.
"I thank you indeed," Victor said, "and most warmly. I do not
know what to do. My father is most anxious that I should cross the
frontier, but I cannot go so long as he and Marie are in danger."
"If you enter Paris as you are," Harry said, "you are certain to
be arrested. Your only chance would be to do as I have done, namely
to disguise yourself and take a small lodging, where you might live
unsuspected."
"And in that way I can see Marie sometimes," Victor said.
"You could do so," Harry agreed, in a somewhat hesitating way, "but
it would greatly add to her danger, and, were you detected, might
lead to the discovery of her disguise. Besides, the thought that
you were liable to arrest at any time would naturally heighten the
anxiety from which she is suffering as to the fate of her father
and mother."
"But I cannot and will not run away and leave them all here in
danger," Victor said passionately.
"I would not advise you to do so," Harry replied. "I would only
suggest, that after seeing Mademoiselle de St. Caux once, you
should lead her to believe that you have decided upon making for
the frontier, and she will therefore have the happiness of believing
that you are safe, while you are still near and watching over her."
"That is all very well," Victor said; "but what opinion would she
have of me if she thought me capable of deserting her in that way?"
"You would represent that you were obeying the duke's orders; and
besides, if you did suffer in her opinion it would be but temporarily,
for when she learned the truth, that you had only pretended to
leave in order that her position might be the safer and that her
mind might be relieved, she could only think more highly of you.
Besides, if necessary, you could at any time again present yourself
before her."
"Your counsel is good, Monsieur Sandwith, and I will, at anyrate
for a time, follow it. As you say, I can at anytime reappear.
Where are you lodging? I will take a room near, and we can meet
and compare notes and act together."
Harry gave him his address.
"You have only to walk upstairs to the top story. My room is the
one directly opposite the top of the stairs."
"I will call on you to-morrow morning," Victor said. "I will ride
my horse a few miles back and turn him loose in some quiet place,
and buy at the first village a blouse and workman's pantaloons."
"I think," Harry said, "that would be unwise, count; it would look
strange in the extreme for a gentleman dressed as you are to make
such a purchase. You might be at once arrested, or a report of the
circumstance might be sent into Paris and lead to your discovery.
If you will wait here for half an hour I will go back and buy you
the things you want at the first shop I come to and bring them out
to you. Then you can ride back and loose the horse as you propose;
but I should advise you to hide the saddle and bridle, as well as
the clothes you are now wearing, most carefully. Whoever finds your
horse will probably appropriate it and will say nothing about it,
so that all clue to your movements will be lost, and it will be
supposed that you have ridden to the frontier."
"Peste, Monsieur Sandwith! You seem to have a head ready for all
emergencies. I know what a high opinion the marquis had of you,
and I perceive that it is fully justified, and consider myself as
fortunate indeed in having you for a friend in such a time as the
present."
"We have need of all our wits," Harry said quietly. "The marquis
was good enough to accept my offer to do all that I could to look
after the safety of mesdemoiselles, and if I fail in my trust it
will not, I hope, be from any lack of care or courage."
The meeting had taken place at a point where it could not be observed
from the gate, and the count withdrew a few hundred yards farther
away while Harry went back into Paris. The latter had no difficulty
in purchasing the clothes required by the count and returned with
them in little over a quarter of an hour, and then, having seen
De Gisons ride off, he sauntered back into Paris and made his way
towards the heart of the city.
Crossing the river he found a vast crowd gathered in front of the
Hotel de Ville. The news of the wholesale arrests which had been
made during the night had filled the populace with joy, and the air
was full of shouts of "Down with the Aristocrats!" "Vive Danton!
Vive Marat! Vive Robespierre!" Hawkers were selling, in the crowd,
newspapers and broadsheets filled with the foulest attacks, couched
in the most horrible language, upon the king, the queen, and the
aristocracy.
At various points men, mounted upon steps or the pedestals of
statues, harangued the mob while from time to time the crowd opened
and made way for members of the city council, who were cheered or
hooted according to their supposed sentiments for or against the
cause of the people. After remaining there for some time Harry
made his way to the entrance to the Assembly. A crowd was gathered
here, and a tremendous rush was made when the doors were opened.
Harry managed to force his way in and sat for some hours listening to
the debate, which was constantly interrupted by the people in the
galleries, who applauded with frenzy the speeches of their favourite
orators, the deputies of the Mountain, as the bank of seats occupied
by the Jacobin members was named, and howled and yelled when the
Girondists ventured to advocate moderation or conciliation.
It was late in the evening before the sitting was over, and Harry
was unable to leave his place earlier. Then he went and had supper
at a wineshop, and after sauntering on the Boulevards until the
streets began to be deserted he again crossed the river and made
his way to the mansion. Not a light was to be seen in the windows
and all was still and quiet. The great door stood open. The work
of destruction was complete; the house was stripped of everything
that could be carried away.
Harry made his way up to the bedroom of the marquis. The massive
bedstead still stood in its place, having defied the efforts
of destruction which had proved successful with the cabinets and
other furniture. Sitting down on the floor Harry counted the boards
beneath the bed, and then taking out a strong knife which he had
purchased during the day he inserted it by the side of the middle
board and tried to raise it. It yielded without difficulty to his
effort.
As soon as it was lifted he groped in the cavity below it, and his
hand soon came in contact with the heavy bag. Taking this out and
putting it beneath his blouse he replaced the board and made his
way downstairs. He felt too fatigued to walk across Paris again,
and therefore made his way down to the river and curled himself
up for the night at the foot of the wood pile where the girls had
found shelter in the morning, and, in spite of the novelty of his
situation, fell instantly asleep.
It was broad daylight when he woke, and an hour later he regained
his lodgings, stopping by the way to breakfast at a quiet estaminet
frequented by the better class of workmen. As when he had sallied
out the day before, he was fortunate in meeting no one as he made
his way up the stairs to his room. His first step was to get up
a board and to deposit beneath it the bag of money. Then, having
changed his clothes, he went out and made a variety of purchases
for housekeeping, as he did not wish to be obliged to take his
meals at places where anyone sitting at the table with him might
enter into conversation.
His French was quite good enough to pass in the salon of the
marquis, but his ignorance of the Parisian slang spoken among the
working-classes would have rendered it difficult for him to keep
up his assumed character among them, and would have needed the
fabrication of all sorts of stories as to his birthplace and past
history.
Although in the position in which he was placed Harry felt that it
would be impossible always to adhere to the truth, he shrank from
any falsehoods that could possibly be avoided.
His first duty in order to carry out the task he had undertaken was
to keep up his disguise, and this must be done even at the cost of
telling lies as to his antecedents; but he was determined that he
would avoid this unpleasant necessity as far as lay in his power.
At nine o'clock he made his way to the apartments of Louise Moulin.
His entry was received with a cry of satisfaction from the girls.
"What is the news, Harry?" Jeanne exclaimed. "We expected you here
yesterday evening, and sat up till ten o'clock."
"I was over the other side of the river discharging a mission your
father had confided to me, and did not get back till this morning."
"I knew he was prevented by something," Jeanne said triumphantly.
"I told you so, Marie--didn't I?"
"Yes, dear, I was wrong to be impatient; but you will forgive me,
Harry? You can guess how I suffered yesterday."
"It was natural you should expect me, mademoiselle. I was sorry
afterwards that I did not tell you when I left you that I should
not be able to come in the evening, but indeed I did not think of
it at the time."
"And now for your news, Harry," Jeanne asked impatiently; "have
you learned anything about our father and mother?"
"I am sorry to say I have not, except that they, with many others,
were taken to the prison of Bicetre. But I have good news for you,
Mademoiselle Marie. After going first to the house and finding it in
the possession of a hideous mob, who were plundering and drinking,
I went to see what had taken place at the hotel of the Duc de
Gisons. I found that he had, like your father, been arrested in
the night. I learned that the count was absent, and that a party
were inside in readiness to arrest him on his return. Thinking
it probable that he might have gone down to their estate near
Fontainebleau, I went out beyond the gate on that road and waited
for him. I had the good fortune to meet him, to warn him of his
danger, and to prevent his returning to town. He rode away with a
suit of workman's clothes I had procured for him, and was to enter
Paris in that disguise in the evening. He is to call on me at ten
o'clock, and I will then conduct him hither. I thought it best to
come in before to let you know that he was coming."
Marie burst into tears of happiness at hearing that her lover had
escaped from the danger which threatened. Worn out by the fatigue
and anxiety of the previous night, she had slept for some hours
after reaching the shelter of the old nurse's roof, but she had
lain awake all night thinking over the danger of all those dear to
her. She was now completely overcome with the revulsion of feeling.
"You are a dear boy, Harry!" Jeanne said with frank admiration,
while Marie sobbed out exclamations of gratitude. "You do seem to
think about everything; and now Marie knows that Victor is safe, I
do hope she is going to be more like herself. As I tell her, they
cannot hurt father or mother. They have done no wrong, and they
must let them out of prison after a time. Mamma said we were to
be brave; and at anyrate I try to be, and so does Virginie, though
she does cry sometimes. And now I hope Marie will be cheerful too,
and not go about the rooms looking so downcast and wretched. It
seems to me a miserable thing being in love. I should have thought
Marie would have been the last person to be downcast, for no one
is prouder of being a St. Caux than she is."
"I shall be better now, Jeanne," Marie said smiling, as she wiped
away her tears. "You shall not have any reason to complain of me
in future.
"But do you not think, Harry," she went on with a return of her
anxiety, "that it is very dangerous for Victor to come back into
Paris? I know that his father has long been praying him to make
for the frontier."
"I do not think it is very dangerous at present, mademoiselle,
although it may be later, if this rage against the aristocrats
increases; but I hope that when he has once seen you, which is
his principal object in returning to Paris, he will carry our his
father's wishes and make for the frontier, for his presence here
can be of no possible utility."
"Oh, I hope so," Marie said, "for I am sure Victor would soon
be found out, he could never make himself look like one of these
canaille."
"Why shouldn't he?" Jeanne said indignantly. "Harry does, and he
is just as good-looking as Victor."
Marie burst into a fit of laughter.
"What a champion you are, child, to be sure! But you are quite
right. Clothes, after all, do go a long way towards making a man.
Still, although I think that it is dangerous for Harry, I think it
will be more dangerous for Victor; because, you see, he is a man
and he has the manner of his race, and would find it more difficult
to pass himself off as a workman than Harry, who has got something
of English"--and she hesitated.
"Roughness," Harry put in laughing. "You are quite right, mademoiselle.
I can assure you that with these thick shoes on I find it quite
natural for me to slouch along as the workmen do; and it will be
much more difficult for the count, who always walks with his head
thrown back, and a sort of air of looking down upon mankind in
general."
Marie laughed this time.
"That is a fair retort. Victor certainly has the grand manner.
However, I shall order him to go; and if he won't obey his father's
wishes, he will have to give way to mine."
"I think, mademoiselle, that it would be wiser for Monsieur de Gisons
to meet you elsewhere than here. The arrival of three relations to
stop with Madame Moulin is sure to attract some little attention
among her neighbours just at first. You will be the subject of talk
and gossip. My visit will no doubt be noticed, and it will be as
well that there should not be more material for talk. The less we
attract attention the better. No doubt many have escaped arrest,
and there will be a sharp look-out, for, as they will call us,
suspicious persons. I should propose, if you have no objection to
such a course, that you should stroll out with your sisters and
Louise through the fields to St. Denis. The count will be in my
room in a few minutes. We can keep a look-out from my window and
follow you at a distance until we get clear from observation beyond
the gates."
Marie looked at Madame Moulin, who nodded.
"That would be the best plan, my dear. What Monsieur Sandwith
says is very true. The less we give the neighbours to gossip about
the better; for though your disguises are good, if sharp eyes are
watching you they may note something in your walk or air that may
excite suspicion."
"That being arranged then you must excuse me, for it is just the
time when the count was to arrive, and I fancy that he will be
before rather than behind time."
Indeed, upon reaching the door of his room Harry found the young
count standing there.
"Oh, it is you, friend Harry! I have been here ten minutes, and I
began to be afraid that something might have happened to you and
to imagine all sorts of things."
"It is still three or four minutes before the time we agreed upon,
Victor," Harry said in a loud voice, for at this moment one of the
other doors opened, and a woman came out with a basket in her arms.
"I have been looking about as usual, but without luck so far. I
suppose you have had no better fortune in your search for work?"
He had by this time unlocked his door, and the two entered together.
"I must call you by your Christian name, count, and will do so, if
you don't mind, when alone as at other times, otherwise the title
might slip out accidentally. Will you, on your part, call me Henri?
As you know the marquis and his family called me Harry, which is
the ordinary way in England of calling anyone whose name is Henry,
that is unless he is a soft sort of fellow; but I must ask them to
call me Henri now, Harry would never do here."
"Have you seen them?" was the count's first question.
"I have just left them, Victor, and if you look out from that window
into the street you will in a few minutes see them also; they are
just going for a ramble towards St. Denis, and we will follow them.
I thought it safer not to attract attention by going to the house,
and I also thought that it would be more pleasant for you to talk
to Mademoiselle de St. Caux out there in the fields, than in a
little room with us present.
"Much more pleasant; indeed, I was wondering whether I should get
an opportunity for a few minutes' talk alone with her."
They both took their places at the open window and leaned out
apparently chatting and carelessly watching what was passing in
the street.
A quarter of an hour later they saw Louise Moulin and the girls
come out of their house.
"We had better come away from the window now," Harry said; "Virginie
might look up and nod, we can't be too careful."
They waited three or four minutes to allow the others to get well
ahead and then started out after them; they walked fast until they
caught sight of the others, and then kept some distance behind
until the party had left the town and were out among the fields
which lay between Paris and St. Denis. They then quickened their
pace and were soon up with them.
The greeting between the lovers was a silent one, few words were
spoken, but their faces expressed their joy at meeting again after
the perils through which they had passed; there was a little pause,
and then Harry, as usual, took the lead.
"I will stroll on to St. Denis and back with Jeanne and Virginie;
Madame Moulin can sit down on that log over there, and go on with
her knitting; you, Victor, can ramble on with mademoiselle by that
path through the field; we will agree to meet here again in an
hour."
This arrangement was carried out; Jeanne and Virginie really enjoyed
their walk; the latter thought their disguise was great fun, and,
being naturally a little mimic, imitated so well the walk and
manner of the country children she had seen in her walks near the
chateau that her sister and Harry were greatly amused.
"I like this too, Harry," Jeanne said. "It would not be nice to be
a peasant girl for many things; but it must be joyful to be able
to walk, and run, and do just as you please, without having a
gouvernante always with you to say, Hold up your head, Mademoiselle
Jeanne; Do not swing your arms, Mademoiselle Jeanne; Please walk
more sedately, Mademoiselle Jeanne. Oh, it was hateful! Now we
might run, mightn't we, Harry?"
"Oh, by the way, Jeanne, please call me Henri now; Harry is English,
and people would notice directly if you happened to say it while
anyone is near."
"I like Harry best," Jeanne said; "but, of course, I should not
say it before the people; but may we run just for once?"
"Certainly you may," Harry laughed; "you and Virginie can have a
race to the corner of that wall."
"Come on, Virginie," Jeanne cried as she started, and the two
girls ran at full speed to the wall; Jeanne, however, completely
distancing her younger sister. They were both laughing when Harry
came up.
"That is the first time I have run a race," Jeanne said. "I have
often wanted to try how fast I could run, but I have never ventured
to ask mademoiselle; she would have been horrified; but I don't
know how it is Virginie does not run faster."
"Virginie has more flesh," Harry said smiling. "She carries weight,
as we should say in England, while you have nothing to spare.
"And she is three years older," Virginie put in. "Jeanne is just
sixteen, and I am not thirteen yet; it makes a difference."
"A great deal of difference," Harry agreed; "but I don't think you
will ever run as fast as she does. That will not matter, you know,"
he went on, as Virginie looked a little disappointed, "because it
is not likely that you will ever race again; but Jeanne looks cut
out for a runner--just the build, you see--tall, and slim, and
active."
"Yes," Virginie agreed frankly, "Jeanne has walked ever so far and
never gets tired, while I get dreadfully tired; mamma says sometimes
I am quite a baby for my age."
"Here are some people coming," Harry said; "as we pass them please
talk with a little patois. Your good French would be suspicious."
All the children of the marquis, from their visits among the peasants'
cottages, had picked up a good deal of the Burgundian patois, and
when talking among themselves often used the expressions current
among the peasantry, and they now dropped into this talk, which
Harry had also acquired, as they passed a group of people coming
in from St. Denis.
They walked nearly as far as that town, and then turned and reached
the point where the party had separated, a few minutes before the
expiration of the appointed hour.
The two girls ran away to Louise Moulin, and chatted to her gaily,
while Harry walked up and down until, a quarter of an hour later,
the count and Marie made their appearance. The party stood talking
together for a few minutes; then adieus were said with a very pale
face, but with firmness on Marie's part, and then the girls, with
Louise, turned their faces to Paris, while Harry and Victor remained
behind until they had got well on their way.
"It was hard to deceive her," Victor said; "but you were right.
She insisted that I should go. I seemed to resist, and urged that
it was cowardly for me to run away and to leave her here alone,
but she would not listen to it. She said it was a duty I owed to my
father and family to save myself, and that she should be wretched
if she thought I was in Paris in constant danger of arrest. Finally,
I had to give way to her, but it went against the grain, for even
while she was urging me she must have felt in her heart it would be
cowardly of me to go. However, she will know some day that Victor
de Gisons is no coward."
"I am sure it is better so," Harry said. "She will have anxiety
enough to bear as to her father and mother; it is well that her
mind should be at ease concerning you."
"In reality," Victor said, "I shall be safer here than I should be
journeying towards the frontier. The papers this morning say that
in consequence of the escape of suspected persons, and of the
emigration of the nobles to join the enemies of France, orders
have been sent that the strictest scrutiny is to be exercised on
the roads leading to the frontier, over all strangers who may pass
through. All who cannot give a perfectly satisfactory account of
themselves and produce their papers en regle, are to be arrested
and sent to Paris. Therefore, my chance of getting through would be
small indeed, whereas while remaining in Paris there can be little
fear of detection."
"Not much risk, I hope," Harry agreed; "but there is no saying what
stringent steps they may take as time goes on."
Victor had taken a lodging a few houses from that of Harry. Every
day the excitement in Paris increased, every day there were fresh
arrests until all the prisons became crowded to overflowing. It
was late in August; the Prussians were advancing and had laid siege
to Verdun, and terror was added to the emotions which excited to
madness the population of Paris. Black flags were hung from the
steeples, and Danton and his allies skilfully used the fear inspired
by the foreign enemy to add to the general hatred of the Royalists.
"We Republicans," he said in the rostrum of the Assembly, "are
exposed to two parties, that of the enemy without, that of the
Royalists within. There is a Royalist directory which sits secretly
at Paris and corresponds with the Prussian army. To frustrate it
we must terrify the Royalists."
The Assembly decreed death against all who directly or indirectly
refused to execute or hindered the orders given by the executive
power. Rumours of conspiracy agitated Paris and struck alarm into
people's minds, while those who had friends within the prison walls
became more and more alarmed for their safety.
On the 28th of August orders were issued that all the inhabitants
of Paris were to stay in their houses in order that a visit might
be made by the delegates of the Commune to search for arms, of which
Danton had declared there were eighty thousand hidden in Paris, and
to search for suspected persons. As soon as the order was issued,
Harry and Victor went to their lodgings, and telling their landlords
that they had obtained work at the other end of town, paid their
rent and left the city, and for the next two days slept in the
woods.
They passed most of their time discussing projects for enabling
their friends to escape, for from the stringency of the steps taken,
and the violence of the Commune, they could no longer indulge in
the hopes that in a short time the prisoners against whom no serious
charge could be brought, would be released. At the same time they
could hardly persuade themselves that even such men as those who
now held the supreme power in their hands, could intend to take
extreme measures against so vast a number of prisoners as were now
in custody.
Victor and Harry knew that their friends had at first been taken to
the prison of Bicetre, but whether they were still confined there
they were of course ignorant. Still there was no reason to suppose
that they had been transferred to any of the other jails.
The Bicetre was, they had discovered, so strongly guarded that
neither force nor stratagem seemed available. The jailers were the
creatures of Danton and Robespierre, and any attempt to bribe them
would have been dangerous in the extreme. Victor proposed that,
as he as well as Harry was well provided with funds, for he had
brought to Paris all the money which the steward of the estates
had collected, they should recruit a band among the ruffians of the
city, and make a sudden attack upon the prison. But Harry pointed
out that a numerous band would be required for such an enterprise,
and that among so many men one would be sure to turn traitor before
the time came.
"I am ready to run all risks, Victor, but I see no chance of success
in it. The very first man we spoke to might denounce us, and if
we were seized there would be no one to look after the safety of
Mademoiselle de St. Caux and her sisters. My first duty is towards
them. I gave my promise to their father, and although it is not
probable that I can be of any use to them, I will at any rate, if
possible, be at hand should occasion arise."
On the evening of the 30th they returned to Paris, and took two
fresh apartments at a distance from their former quarters.
They were greatly anxious as to the safety of the girls, and Harry
at once hastened there, but found that all was well. The deputies,
learning from the landlord that only an old woman and her nieces
inhabited the upper story, and having a heavy task before them,
had only paid a short visit to the room, and had left after asking
Louise one or two questions.
The girls, however, were in a state of terrible anxiety as to
their parents, although Louise had avoided repeating to them the
sinister rumours which came to her ears when she was abroad doing
her marketing, for she now went out alone, thinking it better that
the girls should appear as little as possible in the streets.
"It is terrible," Marie said. "I think night and day of our father
and mother. Can nothing be done? Surely we might devise some means
for their escape."
"I can think of nothing," Harry said. "The prison is too strong to
be taken without a considerable force, and it would be impossible
to get that together."
"Could we not bribe these wretches?"
"I have thought over that too," Harry replied; "but, you see, it
would be necessary to get several men to work together. One might,
perhaps, bribe the man who has charge of the cell, but there would
be other warders, and the guard at the gate, and the latter are
changed every day. I do not see how that could possibly be done."
"Would it be any use, do you think, were I to go to Danton or
Robespierre and plead with them for their lives? I would do that
willingly if you think there would be the slightest chance of
success."
"It would be like a lamb going to plead with a wolf. You would only
attract attention to them."
"Could you not get hold of one of these wretches and force him to
sign an order for their release?" Jeanne suggested.
"Eh!" Harry exclaimed in surprise. "Jeanne, you have the best
head of us all. That idea never occurred to me. Yes, that might be
possible. How stupid of me not to think of it!"
"Do not run into any danger, Harry," Marie said earnestly. "Such
a scheme could hardly succeed."
"I don't know, mademoiselle. I think it might. I will think it over.
Of course there are difficulties, but I do not see why it should
not succeed."
"Certainly it will succeed if Harry undertakes it," Jeanne said,
with implicit trust in his powers.
Harry laughed, and even Marie, anxious as she was, could not help
smiling.
"I will try and deserve your confidence, Jeanne; but I am not a
magician. But I will talk it over with"--and he hesitated--"with
a young fellow who is, like myself, a Royalist, and in disguise.
Luckily, we ran against each other the other day, and after a
little conversation discovered each other. He, too, has relatives
in prison, and will, I am sure, join me in any scheme I may undertake.
Two heads are better than one, and four are much better than two
when it comes to acting. And now I must say good-night. I hope
when I see you again I shall be able to tell you that I have formed
some sort of plan for their release."