THE MAN OF THE PEOPLE.
The room was crammed with strangers and National Guards whom curiosity
had drawn into it.
The Queen was therefore checked in her first impulse which was to rush
to the new arrival, sponge away the blood with her handkerchief and
address him some of the comforting words which spring from the heart,
and therefore go to them.
But she could not help rising a little on her seat, extend her arms
towards him and mutter his Christian name.
Calm and gloomy, he waved his hand to the strangers and in a soft but
firm voice, said:
"You will excuse me, but I have business with their Majesties."
The National Guard began to remonstrate that they were there to prevent
anybody talking with the prisoners, but Charny pressed his bloodless
lips, frowned, opened his riding coat to show that he carried pistols,
and repeated in a voice as gentle as before but twice as menacing:
"Gentlemen, I have already had the honor to tell you that I have private
business with the King and the Queen."
At the same time he waved them to go out. On this voice, and the mastery
Charny exercised over others, Damas and the two bodyguards resumed their
energy, temporarily impaired, and cleared the room by driving the gapers
and volunteer soldiers before them.
The Queen now comprehended what use this man would have been in the
royal carriage instead of Lady Tourzel, whom she had let etiquette
impose on them.
Charny glanced round to make sure that only the faithful were at hand,
and said as he went nearer Marie Antoinette:
"I am here, my lady. I have some seventy hussars at the town gate. I
believe I can depend on them. What do you order me to do?"
"Tell us first what has happened you, my poor Charny?" she said in
German.
He made a sign towards Malden whom he knew to understand the speaker's
language.
"Alas, not seeing you, we thought you were dead," she went on in French.
"Unhappily, it is not I but my brother who is slain--poor Isidore! but
my turn is coming."
"Charny, I ask you what happened and how you came to keep so long out of
the way?" continued the Queen. "You were a defaulter, George, especially
to me," she added in German and in a lower voice.
"I thought my brother would account for my temporary absence," he said,
bowing.
"Yes, I know: to pursue that wretch of a man, Drouet, and we feared for
awhile that you had come to disaster, in that chase."
"A great misfortune did befall me, for despite all my efforts, I could
not catch up with him. A postboy returning let him know that your
carriage had taken the Varennes Road when he was thinking it had gone
to Verdun: he turned into the woods where I pulled my pistols on him
but they were not loaded--I had taken Dandoins' horse and not the one
prepared for me. It was fatality, and who could help it? I pursued him
none the less through the forest but I only knew the roads, so that I
was thrown by my horse falling into a ditch! In the darkness I was but
hunting a shadow, and he knew it in every hollow. Thus I was left alone
in the night, cursing with rage."
She offered her hand to him and he touched it with his tremulous lips.
"Nobody replied to my calls. All night long I wandered and only at
daybreak came out at a village on the road from Varennes to Dun. As
it was possible that you had escaped Drouet as he escaped me, it was
then useless for me to go to Varennes; yet but as he might have had you
stopped there, and I was but one man and my devotion was useless, I
determined to go on to Dun.
"Before I arrived I met Captain Deslon with a hundred hussars. He was
fretting in the absence of news: he had seen Bouille and Raigecourt
racing by towards Stenay, but they had said nothing to him, probably
from some distrust. But I know Deslon to be a loyal gentleman; I guessed
that your Majesty had been detained at Varennes, and that Bouille and
his companion had taken flight to get help. I told Deslon all, adjured
him to follow me with his cavalry, which he did, but leaving thirty to
guard the Meuse Bridge.
"An hour after we were at Varennes, four leagues in an hour, where I
wanted to charge and upset everything between us and your Majesty: but
we found breastworks inside of works; and to try to ride over them
was folly. So I tried parleying: a post of the National Guards being
there, I asked leave to join my hussars with those inside but it was
refused me: I asked to be allowed to get the King's orders direct and
as that was about to be refused likewise. I spurred my steed, jumped
two barricades and guided by the tumult, galloped up to this spot just
when my bro--your Majesty fell back from the balcony. Now, I await your
orders," he concluded.
The Queen pressed his hand in both hers.
"Sire," she said to the King, still plunged in torpor; "have you heard
what this faithful servitor is saying?"
The King gave no answer and she went over to him.
"Sire, there is no time to lose, and indeed too much has been lost.
Here is Lord Charny with seventy men, sure, he says, and he wants your
orders."
He shook his head, though Charny implored him with a glance and the
Queen by her voice.
"Orders? I have none to give, being a prisoner. Do whatever you like."
"Good, that is all we want," said the Queen: "you have a blank warrant,
you see," she added to her follower whom she took aside: "Do as the
King says, whatever you see fit." In a lower voice she appended: "Do it
swiftly, and with vigor, or else we are lost!"
"Very well," returned the Lifeguards officer, "let me confer a
moment with these gentlemen and we will carry out what we determine
immediately."
Choiseul entered, carrying some letters wrapped in a bloodstained
handkerchief. He offered this to Charny without a word. The count
understood that it came from his brother and putting out his hand to
receive the tragic inheritance, he kissed the wrapper. The Queen could
not hold back a sigh.
But Charny did not turn round to her, but said as he thrust the packet
into his breast:
"Gentlemen, can you aid me in the last effort I intend?"
"We are ready for anything."
"Do you believe we are a dozen men staunch and able?"
"We are eight or nine, any way."
"Well, I will return to my hussars. While I attack the barriers in
front, you storm them in the rear. By favor of your diversion, I will
force through, and with our united forces we will reach this spot where
we will extricate the King."
They held out their hands to him by way of answer.
"In an hour," said Charny to the King and Queen, "you shall be free, or
I dead."
"Oh, count, do not say that word," said she, "it causes me too much
pain."
George bowed in confirmation of his vow, and stepped towards the door
without being appalled by the fresh uproar in the street.
But as he laid his hand on the knob, it flew open and gave admission to
a new character who mingled directly in the already complicated plot of
the drama.
This was a man in his fortieth year; his countenance was dark and
forbidding; his collar open at the throat, his unbuttoned coat, the dust
on his clothes, and his eyes red with fatigue, all indicated that he had
ridden far and fast under the goad of fierce feeling.
He carried a brace of pistols in his sash girdle and a sabre hung by his
side.
Almost breathless as he opened the door, he appeared relieved only when
he saw the Royal Family. A smile of vengeance flittered over his face
and without troubling about the other persons around the room and by the
doorway itself, which he almost blocked up with his massive form, he
thundered as he stretched out his hand:
"In the name of the National Assembly, you are all my prisoners!"
As swift as thought Choiseul sprang forward with a pistol in hand and
offered to blow out the brains of this intruder, who seemed to surpass
in insolence and resolution all they had met before. But the Queen
stopped the menacing hand with a still swifter action and said in an
undertone to the count:
"Do not hasten our ruin! prudence, my lord! let us gain time for Bouille
to arrive."
"You are right," said Choiseul, putting up the firearm.
The Queen glanced at Charny whom she had thought would have been the
first to intervene: but, astonishing thing! Charny seemed not to
want the new-comer to notice him, and shrank into the darkest corner
apparently in that end.
But she did not doubt him or that he would step out of the mystery and
shadow at the proper time.
The threatening move of the nobleman against the representative of the
National Assembly had passed over without the latter appearing to remark
his escape from death.
Besides, another emotion than fear seemed to monopolize his heart: there
was no mistaking his face's expression; so looks the hunter who has
tracked to the den of the lion, the lioness and their cubs, with their
jackals,--amongst whom was devoured his only child!
But the King had winced at the word "Prisoners," which had made Choiseul
revolt.
"Prisoners, in the name of the Assembly? what do you mean? I do not
understand you."
"It is plain, and easy enough," replied the man. "In spite of the oath
you took not to go out of France, you have fled in the night, betraying
your pledge, the Nation and the people; hence the nation have cried 'To
arms!' risen, and to say:--by the voice of one of your lowest subjects,
not less powerful because it comes from below, though: 'Sire, in the
name of the people, the nation and the National Assembly, you are my
prisoner!"
In the adjoining room, a cheer burst at the words.
"My lady," said Choiseul to the Queen, in her ear, "do not forget that
you stopped me and that you would not suffer this insult if your pity
had not interfered for this bully."
"It will go for nothing if we are revenged," she replied.
"But if not?"
She could only groan hollowly and painfully. But Charny's hand was
slowly reached over the duke's shoulder and touched the Queen's arm. She
turned quickly.
"Let that man speak and act--I answer for him," said the count.
Meanwhile the monarch, stunned by the fresh blow dealt him, stared with
amazement at the gloomy figure which had spoken so energetic a language,
and curiosity was mingled with it from his belief that he had seen him
before.
"Well, in short, what do you want? Speak," he said.
"Sire, I am here to prevent you and the Royal Family taking another step
towards the frontier."
"I suppose you come with thousands of men to oppose my march," went on
the King, who became grander during his discussion.
"No, Sire, I am alone, or with only another, General Lafayette's
aid-de-camp, sent by him and the Assembly to have the orders of the
Nation executed. I am sent by Mayor Bailly, but I come mainly on my own
behalf to watch this envoy and blow out his brains if he flinches."
All the hearers looked at him with astonishment; they had never seen the
commoners but oppressed or furious, and begging for pardon or murdering
all before them; for the first time they beheld a man of the people
upright, with folded arms, feeling his force and speaking in the name of
his rights.
Louis saw quickly that nothing was to be hoped from one of this metal
and said in his eagerness to finish with him:
"Where is your companion?"
"Here he is, behind me," said he, stepping forward so as to disclose the
doorway, where might be seen a young man in staff-officer's uniform, who
was leaning against the window. He was also in disorder but it was of
fatigue not force. His face looked mournful. He held a paper in his
hand.
This was Captain Romeuf, Lafayette's aid, a sincere patriot, but during
Lafayette's dictature while he was superintending the Tuileries, he
had shown so much respectful delicacy that the Queen had thanked him on
several occasions.
"Oh, it is you?" she exclaimed, painfully surprised. "I never should
have believed it," she added, with the painful groan of a beauty who
feels her fancied invincible power failing.
"Good, it looks as if I were quite right to come," muttered the second
deputy, smiling.
The impatient King did not give the young officer time to present his
warrant; he took a step towards him rapidly and snatched it from his
hands.
"There is no longer a King in France," he uttered after having read it.
The companion of Romeuf smiled as much as to say: "I knew that all
along."
The Queen moved towards the King to question him at these words.
"Listen, madam," he said, "to the decree the Assembly has presumed to
issue."
In a voice shaking with indignation he read the following lines:
"It is hereby ordered by the Assembly that the Home Secretary
shall send instantly messengers into every department with the
order for all functionaries, National Guards, and troops of
the line in the country to arrest or have arrested all persons
soever attempting to leave the country, as well as to prevent all
departure of goods, arms, ammunition, gold and silver, horses
and vehicles; and in case these messengers overtake the King, or
any members of the Royal Family, and those who connive at their
absconding, the said functionaries, National Guards and troops of
the line are to take, and hereby are bound to take, all measure
possible to check the said absconding, prevent the absconders
continuing their route, and give an account immediately to the
House of Representatives."
The Queen listened in torpor--but when the King finished she shook her
head to arouse her wits and said:
"Impossible--give it to me," and she held out her hand for the fatal
message.
In the meantime Romeuf's companion was encouraging the National Guards
and patriots of Varennes with a smile.
Though they had heard the tenor of the missive the Queen's expression of
"Impossible!" had startled them.
"Read, Madam, and if still you doubt," said the King with bitterness;
"it is written and signed by the Speaker of the House."
"What man dares write and sign such impudence?"
"A peer of the realm--the Marquis of Beauharnais."
Is it not a strange thing, which proves how events are mysteriously
linked together, that the decree stopping Louis in his flight should
bear a name, obscure up to then, yet about to be attached in a brilliant
manner with the history of the commencement of the 19th Century?
The Queen read the paper, frowning. The King took it to re-peruse it and
then tossed it aside so carelessly that it fell on the sleeping prince
and princess's couch. At this, the Queen, incapable of self-constraint
any longer, rose quickly with an angry roar, and seizing the paper,
crushed it up in her grip before throwing it afar, with the words:
"Be careful, my lord--I would not have such a filthy rag sully my
children."
A deafening clamor arose from the next room, and the Guards made a
movement to rush in upon the illustrious fugitives. Lafayette's aid let
a cry of apprehension escape him. His companion uttered one of wrath.
"Ha," he growled between his teeth, "is it thus you insult the Assembly,
the Nation and the people?--very well, we shall see! Come, citizens!" he
called out, turning to the men without, already excited by the contest,
and armed with guns, scythes mounted on poles like spears, and swords.
They were taking the second stride to enter the room and Heaven only
knows what would have been the shock of two such enmities, had not
Charny sprang forward. He had kept aloof during the scene, and now
grasping the National Guards man by the wrist as he was about to draw
his sabre, he said:
"A word with you, Farmer Billet; I want to speak with you."
Billet, for it was he, emitted a cry of astonishment, turned pale as
death, stood irresolute for an instant, and then said as he sheathed the
half-drawn steel:
"Have it so. I have to speak with you, Lord Charny." He proceeded to
the door and said: "Citizens, make room if you please. I have to confer
with this officer; but have no uneasiness," he added in a low voice,
"there shall not escape one wolf, he or she, or yet a whelp. I am on the
lookout and I answer for them!"
As if this man had the right to give them orders, though he was unknown
to them all--save Charny--they backed out and left the inner room free.
Besides, each was eager to relate to those without what had happened
inside, and enjoin all patriots to keep close watch.
In the meantime Charny whispered to the Queen:
"Romeuf is a friend of yours; I leave him with you--get the utmost from
him."
This was the more easy as Charny closed the door behind him to prevent
anybody, even Billet, entering.