ON THE HIGHWAY.
The Queen had not taken ten paces beyond the gateway before a man in a
blue garrick and with his face hidden by a tarpaulin hat, caught her
convulsively by the arm and dragged her to a hackney coach stationed at
the St. Nicaise corner: it was Count Charny.
They expected to see the Queen come up, after this half hour of delay,
dying, downcast and prostrated, but they saw her merry and gladsome; the
cut of the cane which she had given a carriage-wheel and fancied was on
the rider, had made her forget her fatigue, her blunder, her obstinacy,
the lost time and the consequences of the delay.
Charny pointed out a saddled horse which a servant was holding at a
little distance to his brother who mounted and dashed ahead to pioneer
the way. He would have to get the horses ready at Bondy.
Seeing him go, the Queen uttered some words of thanks which he did not
hear.
"Let us be off, madam; we have not one second to lose," said Charny,
with that firmness of will mixed with respect which great men take for
grand occasions.
The Queen entered the hackney-coach, where were five already, the King,
Lady Elizabeth, the Princess Royal, her brother and Lady Tourzel. She
had to sit at the back with her son on her lap, with the King beside
her: the two ladies and the girl were on the front seat. Fortunately the
hackney carriages, old family coaches, were roomy in those days.
Charny got upon the box and to avert suspicion, turned the horses round
and had them driven to the gate circuitously.
Their special conveyance was waiting for them there, on the side-road
leading to the ditch. This part was lonesome. The traveling carriage had
the door open, and Malden and Valory were on the steps.
In an instant the six travelers were out on the road. Charny drove the
hack to the ditch and upset it in it, before returning to the party.
They were inside; Malden got up behind; Valory joined Charny on the box.
The four horses went off at a rattling good pace as a quarter past one
sounded from the church clock.
In an hour they were at Bondy, where Isidore had better teams ready. He
saw the royal coach come up.
Charny got down to get inside as had been settled; but Lady Tourzel, who
was to be sent back to town alone, had not been consulted.
With all her profound devotion to the Royal Family, she was unalterable
on points of court etiquette. She stated that her duty was to look after
the royal children, whom she was bound not to quit for a single instant
unless by the King's express order, or the Queen's; but there being no
precedent of a Queen having ordered the royal governess away from her
charges, she would not go.
The Queen quivered with impatience, for she doubly wished Charny in the
vehicle, as a lover who would make it pleasanter and as a Queen, as he
would guard her.
Louis did not dare pronounce on the grave question. He tried to get out
of the dilemma by a side-issue. Lady Tourzel stood ready to yield to the
King's command but he dared not command her, so strong are the minutest
regulations in the courtly-bred.
"Arrange anyway you like, count," said the fretful Queen, "only you must
be with us."
"I will follow close to the carriage, like a simple servant," he
replied: "I will return to town to get a horse by the one my brother
came therefrom, and changing my dress I will join you at full speed."
"Is there no other means?" said Marie Antoinette in despair.
"I see none," remarked the King.
Lady Tourzel took her seat triumphantly and the stage-coach started off.
The importance of this discussion had made them forget to serve out the
firearms which went back to Paris in the hack.
By daybreak, which was three o'clock, they changed horses at Meaux where
the King was hungry. They brought their own provisions in the boot of
the coach, cold veal and bread and wine, which Charny had seen to. But
there were no knives and forks and the King had to carve with "Jean,"
that is, Malden's hunting-knife.
During this, the Queen leaned out to see if Charny were returning.
"What are you thinking of, madam?" inquired the King, who had found the
two guards would not take refreshment.
"That Lafayette is in a way at this hour," replied the lady.
But nothing showed that their departure had been seen.
Valory said that all would go well.
"Cheer up!" he said, as he got upon the box with Malden and off they
rolled again.
At eight o'clock they reached the foot of a long slope where the King
had all get out to walk up. Scattered over the road, the pretty children
romping and playing, the sister resting on her brother's arm and
smiling: the pensive women looking backward, and all lit up by the June
sun while the forest flung a transparent shade upon the highway--they
seemed a family going home to an old manor to resume a regular and
peaceful life and not a King and Queen of France fleeing from the throne
which would be converted into their scaffold.
An accident was soon to stir up the dormant passions in the bosoms of
the party.
The Queen suddenly stopped as though her feet had struck root.
A horseman appeared a quarter-league away, wrapped in the cloud of dust
which his horse's hoofs threw up.
Marie Antoinette dared not say: "It is Count Charny!" but she did
exclaim, "News from Paris!"
Everybody turned round except the Dauphin who was chasing a
butterfly--compared with its capture the news from the capital little
mattered.
Being shortsighted, the King drew a small spy-glass from his pocket.
"I believe it is only Lord Charny," he said.
"Yes, it is he," said the Queen.
"Go on," said the other: "he will catch up to us and we have no time to
lose."
The Queen dared not suggest that the news might be of value.
It was only a few seconds at stake anyhow, for the rider galloped up as
fast as his horse could go.
He stared as he came up for he could not understand why the party should
be scattered all over the road.
He arrived as the huge vehicle stopped at the top of the ridge to take
up the passengers.
It was indeed Charny as the Queen's heart and the King's eyes had
told them. He was now wearing a green riding coat with flap collar, a
broad brimmed hat with steel buckle, white waistcoat, tight buckskin
breeches, and high boots reaching above the knee. His usually dead white
complexion was animated by the ride and sparks of the same flame which
reddened his cheeks shot from his eyes.
He looked like a conqueror as he rushed along; the Queen thought she had
never seen him look handsomer. She heaved a deep sigh as the horseman
leaped off his horse and saluted the King.
Turning, he bowed to the Queen. All grouped themselves round him, except
two guardsmen who stood aloof in respect.
"Come near, gentlemen," said the King: "what news Count Charny brings
concerns us all."
"To begin with, all goes well," said Charny: "At two in the morning none
suspected our flight."
They breathed easier: the questions were multiplied. He related that
he had entered the town and been stopped by a patrol of volunteers who
however became convinced that the King was still in the palace. He
entered his own room and changed his dress: the aid of Lafayette who
first had a doubt, had become calm and dismissed extra guards.
He had returned on the same horse from the difficulty of getting a fresh
one so early. It almost foundered, poor beast, but he reached Bondy
upon it. There he took a fresh one and continued his ride with nothing
alarming along the road.
The Queen found that such good news deserved the favor of her extending
her hand to the bearer; he kissed it respectfully, and she turned pale.
Was it from joy that he had returned, or with sorrow that he did not
press it?
When the vehicle started off, Charny rode by the side.
At the next relay house all was ready except a saddle horse for the
count which Isidore had not foreseen the want of. There would be delay
for one to be found. The vehicle went off without him, but he overtook
it in five minutes. It was settled that he should follow and not escort
it. Still he kept close enough for the Queen to see him if she put
her head out of the window and thus he exchanged a few words with the
illustrious couple when the pace allowed it.
Charny changed horses at Montmirail and was dashing on thinking it had a
good start of him when he almost ran into it. It had been pulled up from
a trace breaking. He dismounted and found a new leather in the boot,
filled with repairing stuff. The two guardsmen profited by the halt to
ask for their weapons, but the King opposed their having them. On the
objection that the vehicle might be stopped he replied that he would
not have blood spilt on his account.
They lost half an hour by this mishap, when seconds were priceless.
They arrived at Chalons by two o'clock.
"All will go well if we reach Chalons without being stopped," the King
had said.
Here the King showed himself for a moment. In the crowd around the huge
conveyance two men watched him with sustained attention. One of them
suddenly went away while the other came up.
"Sire, you will wreck all if you show yourself thus," he said. "Make
haste, you lazybones," he cried to the postboys: "this is a pretty way
to serve those who pay you handsomely."
He set to work, aiding the hostlers.
It was the postmaster.
At last the horses were hooked on and the postboys in their saddles and
boots. The first tried to start his pair when they went clean off their
feet. They got them up and all clear again, when the second span went
off their feet! This time the postboy was caught under them.
Charny, who was looking on in silence, seized hold of the man and
dragged him out of his heavy boots, remaining under the horse.
"What kind of horses have you given us?" demanded he of the postinghouse
master.
"The best I had in," replied the man.
The horses were so entangled with the traces that the more they pulled
at them the worse the snarl became.
Charny flew down to the spot.
"Unbuckle and take off everything," he said, "and harness up afresh. We
shall get on quicker so."
The postmaster lent a hand in the work, cursing with desperation.
Meanwhile the other man, who had been looking on had run to the mayor,
whom he told that the Royal Family were in a coach passing through the
town. Luckily the official was far from being a republican and did
not care to take any responsibility on himself. Instead of making the
assertion sure, he shilly-shallied so that time was lost and finally
arrived as the coach disappeared round the corner.
But more than twenty minutes had been frittered away.
Alarm was in the royal party; the Queen thought that the downfall of the
two pair of horses were akin to the four candles going out one after
another which she had taken to portend the death of herself, her husband
and their two children.
Still, on getting out of the town, she and the King and his sister had
all exclaimed:
"We are saved!"
But, a hundred paces beyond, a man shouted in at the window:
"Your measures are badly taken--you will be arrested!"
The Queen screamed but the man jumped into the hedge and was lost to
sight.
Happily they were but four leagues from Sommevelle Bridge, where
Choiseul and forty hussars were to be posted. But it was three in the
afternoon and they were nearly four hours late.