PLANS FOR THE FUTURE.
The day following these events in the lodgings of John Lebrenn,
Charlotte Desmarais was again talking with her mother in the parlor of
their apartment. The latter, pale and downcast, and her eyes red with
weeping, still trembled for the life of her brother, who, scenting the
snare in the commissioner's advice to leave Paris by the St. Victor
barrier, had remained snug in his refuge. The lawyer's wife was saying
to her daughter:
"And so you are happy, very happy at your coming marriage, my child?"
"Oh, mother!" echoed the young girl, covering Madam Desmarais's hand
with kisses, "nothing is now wanting to my happiness but to see you no
longer sad."
"You know the reason for my sadness."
"Has not, perhaps, my marriage, to which you consented only reluctantly,
added to the other causes of your sorrow?"
"Since you ask me, my dear daughter, I will admit that the ideas, or
prejudices, if you will, in which I was brought up made me consider this
match with a workingman a misalliance. I opposed it with all my might,
up to the last moment. But--I confess it to you sincerely, my
child--last night when your father announced to Monsieur Lebrenn that
he granted him your hand, the young man showed himself so grateful, he
expressed his joy in such eloquent terms, he evinced so much attention,
so much deference, he spoke so touchingly of his sister, in short he
showed himself so completely a man of heart and generosity, that my
repugnance vanished. Your marriage now satisfies me at all points."
"What delight I feel, good mother, to hear you say so," responded
Charlotte clasping Madam Desmarais around the neck. "John will be to you
the tenderest of sons."
"He will, I doubt not, but--" added Madam Desmarais sorrowfully, "I can
never share your happiness, dear child. I know the uprightness of your
spirit, the strength of your character; and I am going to make to you a
serious and painful avowal: Your father has wounded me to the heart, he
has lost my esteem and affection. It is impossible for me to live longer
with him. You witnessed his conduct toward me, you heard his repeated
denunciations."
"Alas," replied Charlotte, forcing herself to make excuses for her
father, "it was only a shameful role he was driven to by necessity; be
assured of that, good mother."
"No, it was not a role," answered the injured wife. "You must know the
whole truth. Last night, after Monsieur Lebrenn's departure, when we
were alone, your father said to me:
"'Madam, take this once for all, you and your miserable brother; you
almost sent me to the guillotine to-day. God grant that the perils which
I dread be fended off in the future by this marriage of my daughter to
this--this Lebrenn.
"'We live, madam,' continued your father, 'in terrible times, and I am
in such a position that, should it some day come about that I must
either send others to the guillotine or face death myself, I would not
hesitate to send even you before the revolutionary tribunal. Let these
words always be present to your mind, madam, in regulating your conduct
henceforth.'
"In these words your father wound up. Such, my child, was his language,"
concluded Madam Desmarais, burying her tear-bedewed face in her
handkerchief.
Charlotte answered not. She was torn with inward struggle against the
sad flood of ideas borne upon her by her father's hypocrisy. Brought up
in an atmosphere of filial affection and respect, the young girl
suffered at being compelled to lower her estimate of her paternal
parent. But this last conversation of the lawyer with his wife left no
more room for doubt as to his true character.
Having somewhat calmed her tears, Madam Desmarais went on:
"I have now, dear child, too much knowledge of your father's innermost
nature. His presence is hateful to me. It would be impossible for me to
live with him. Hence, my poor girl, we must part."
"We part!" cried Charlotte, passionately embracing Madam Desmarais and
mingling her tears with her mother's: "And where will you go?"
"I shall go back to Lyons, to my cousin's; I have resolved upon that,
since I can do nothing here, alas, to add either to your happiness or my
brother's safety."
"Let us hope, mother, let us hope," said Charlotte through her tears,
after a pause. "Perhaps there is a way for us not to separate, good
mother, and also to save uncle. Ah, mother, happiness, and above all
the desire to make others whom we love share our happiness, renders the
mind quick to invent. Last night, after father and you consented to my
marrying John, he and I were alone for a few minutes. Here is what he
told me: Before coming here, he had gone to Monsieur Billaud-Varenne,
and he learned from this gentleman that father had previously
commissioned him to offer my hand to Monsieur St. Just. Thus John
learned that father counted on finding in him a buffer against the
dangers which he fears, and that this was the motive that led him, in
default of Monsieur St. Just, to offer my hand to John. That does not
matter; but John also learned from Monsieur Billaud-Varenne that he had
said to father: 'Since you so greatly desire to marry your daughter to a
good republican, why not give her to John Lebrenn? He is, you say, your
pupil; he enjoys the esteem and friendship of the most eminent men of
the Revolution.'"
"No doubt your father hoped, in marrying you to St. Just--"
"To build himself a powerful bulwark against possible danger. But
Monsieur St. Just not having accepted the alliance, and Monsieur
Billaud-Varenne proposing John, father feared to seem to despise a
workingman should he refuse him my hand."
"And what opinion did John Lebrenn express of your father?"
"John said that father's conduct was lacking in straightforwardness, and
added, 'I have never failed in frankness toward you, Charlotte. If it
pleases you still to live with your father, I shall yield to your
desires, and I shall keep ever hidden the slight esteem in which,
unhappily, I am forced to hold him. But if it is in your thoughts not to
dwell beneath the paternal roof after our marriage, I shall be more
pleased with that resolution, as it will permit me not to be separated
from my sister.' And in this connection, mother," added Charlotte with
touching emotion, "John gave me a proof of confidence as honorable in
him as in his sister. He recounted to me all that related to the
unfortunate girl, but all under the seal of secrecy. If Mademoiselle
Lebrenn has been the most unhappy creature in the world, because of
certain terrible events, no one is now more than she worthy of the
respect of all."
"Gertrude was speaking to me yesterday about Mademoiselle Lebrenn, and
assured me that during the four years she has lived in our quarter, all
agree in praising her conduct. My husband used this as a pretext for
giving Monsieur Lebrenn to believe that if he formerly refused him your
hand on the ground that his sister had been Louis XV's mistress, that
obstacle no longer intervened, as by her virtuous conduct Mademoiselle
Lebrenn had redeemed the past. Would not such deceit, without, alas, the
other grievances I have against my husband, suffice to estrange us? Such
is our situation."
"Mother," said Charlotte, interrupting Madam Desmarais, "I told you that
John, while consenting to live with me at father's house, would much
prefer for us to dwell by ourselves, with his sister. Ah, well, mother,
as I can not feel for father the sentiments which hallow the paternal
roof-tree, I have resolved to part from him after my marriage. And now,
mother mine, what reason can you give for a separation between us two?"
"Dear child," answered Madam Desmarais, embracing her daughter in tears,
"you grant my wish before I utter it. Much as I longed for it, I did not
dare make the request of you for our living together; and even now I do
not know whether I ought to accept. To live with you would be my most
cherished desire; but Monsieur Lebrenn knows that I have constantly
opposed his marriage, and perhaps it would not please him to see me in
his home."
"Here comes John, mother," cried her daughter as Gertrude led the young
man into the parlor. "He will take upon himself the task of reassuring
you."
As soon as the maid had withdrawn, Charlotte said to her betrothed, who
bowed respectfully to Madam Desmarais:
"My dear John, in case, after our marriage, it should not please me to
live in my father's house, would it be agreeable to you for mother to
come with us?"
"I shall answer you, Charlotte, in all sincerity," responded the young
artisan. "I should be happy to have Madam Desmarais with us; all the
more, seeing that since what passed between her husband and her after
Monsieur Hubert's escape, it seems to me almost impossible that she
could resign herself to inhabit any longer the home of her marriage."
And he continued, to Madam Desmarais: "Believe me, madam; by my respect,
by my filial attachment, I shall strive to make you forget what you have
suffered; moreover, I promise to try to call a halt to the pursuit of
your brother."
"Great God!" cried Madam Desmarais in accents of gratitude, "can it be
possible!"
"I have some hope, due to my political relations, of success in what
concerns your brother's safety."
"Ah, John!" said Charlotte, "you have divined my thoughts, anticipated
my wishes; for just now, in trying to reassure mother on the score of
uncle's fate, I dreamt of asking your assistance."
"And I, Monsieur Lebrenn, am doubly grateful for your generosity towards
my brother, especially since you are not unaware that, even as I, he was
ever obstinately opposed to your marriage with my daughter," added Madam
Desmarais, with tears of happiness standing in her eyes. "Ah, whatever
the result of your efforts, my gratitude towards you will be eternal,
Monsieur Lebrenn. But, alas! how can you save my brother?"
"Write, madam, to Monsieur Hubert, that if he will promise, on his word
of honor, to abstain henceforth from all intrigue, and to live quietly
in Paris, I hope, due to my relations with the procurator of the Commune
and several members of the Committee of General Safety, to be able to
secure a suspension of the searches against him. I ask of him nothing
which a man of honor can not accede to; I ask nothing which looks toward
his dropping his opinions, nothing that engages him towards the
Republic, except that he respect the established laws."
"Ah, uncle is saved, mother. This proposal is too straightforward for
him not to accept. Let your heart rejoice."
"Ah, Monsieur Lebrenn, what generosity, what grandeur of heart! Will you
pardon me for having so long misprised you?"
"John, for answer, embrace _our_ mother," said Charlotte, gently
pushing her betrothed toward Madam Desmarais. The latter held out her
arms to the young workman, who clasped her in a hearty hug.
"Aye, aye, you will hereafter be for me the best of sons," replied she.
"I owe to you forgetfulness from my sorrows, perhaps the life of my
brother, and assuredly the happiness of my Charlotte."
"And now let us talk of our plans," resumed the young girl. "It is
understood, mother, that when we are married, you are to live with us?
We need not go back to that."
"That is my dearest wish."
"Since we are speaking of plans, Charlotte," put in John, "I should
acquaint your mother and you of my intention to continue my trade of
ironsmith. My employer, Master Gervais, has long proposed to turn his
establishment over to me, for which I was to reimburse him by yearly
payments to be agreed on by us. I am not of an age to enter upon another
career from that I have so far lived by."
"But, my dear John," began Madam Desmarais, "as you speak of continuing
your trade, I should tell you that my daughter has a dower--of
considerable importance."
"That is something, I must declare to you, which I have never
considered," John made answer. "Charlotte's dowry belongs to her, she is
to use it as seems good to her. As to me, I am certain that neither you
nor she will disapprove of my resolution to live by my own labor, as
heretofore. The establishment, perfectly equipped, which I shall get
from Master Gervais for thirty thousand livres, should bring me, good
year or bad, five or six thousand livres steadily. The output of my
forge will permit us, then, to live in some comfort, and allow me to pay
off my master in a few years, according to the arrangements that we
shall make."
"But, my dear John, my daughter's dower is more than 120,000 livres in
good gold louis, snugly stowed underground in our cellar; not to speak
of my personal fortune."
"Dear mother, permit me to interrupt you," returned John. "Your private
fortune is yours, and Charlotte's dowry is hers; she and you may dispose
of them as you will, and in acts of benevolence. I wish only to prove to
you that my labor will suffice for the maintenance of our household,
apart from your resources."
"I have always given you credit for delicacy, my dear John," replied
Madam Desmarais.
"For which I thank you, dear mother. You now know that I wish to
continue to live by my trade. For the rest, be easy," added the young
workingman, smiling. "Neither Charlotte nor you will be deafened by the
clang of my anvil. Master Gervais's shop is on Anjou Street, and a great
courtyard separates it from a pretty house in the midst of a garden. The
dwelling is at present occupied by Master Gervais, but as he purposes to
go to live in the country, he will rent it to me. We shall be, my dear
mother--you, Charlotte, my sister, and I--comfortably established in our
little nest, which smiles in the shade of the garden about it. These are
my plans, subject to your and Charlotte's approval; except, I repeat, my
firm resolve to continue to live by the work of my forge."
"I, to begin with, am agreed to these projects of John's," said the
young girl gaily. "The house, surrounded by its garden, charms me before
I see it. But do not be afraid, Monsieur John, that I shall fear to
blacken my dress with the smoke of your forge; I shall also prove to
you that I dread not being deafened with the thunder of your anvil. And
you, mother, what have you to say to our projects? Do they meet with
your approval?"
"I say that our John is honor, probity and delicacy itself," replied
Madam Desmarais with welling emotion. "I say that I would live, if need
be, in a garret, rather than be parted from you, my children. I say that
now I am ashamed of the prejudices in which I have heretofore lived in
regard to the men of the people. John teaches me to value them as they
truly deserve."
"Ah, dear mother," was John's answer, "I understand, I overlook the
prejudices of which you accuse yourself. What causes them, what even
often justifies them, is the faults of so many of the disinherited,
unhappy ones, who, sunk in misery, in ignorance, and abandonment, have
fallen prey to the fatal vices that are nearly always engendered by
these conditions. So, do you know what has been my motive in wishing to
succeed Master Gervais in his smithy, where a score or so of apprentices
are always employed? It is to form in our shop a sort of practical
school of industrious, upright, and efficient workmen, jealous of their
rights as citizens, but also imbued with a sense of their public duties.
I hope to render still more fervent, still more glowing, their love for
their country, and for the Republic. I wish, in associating them with my
labors, to make them associated with the benefits thereof. I hope, in
short, to watch with fatherly solicitude over my young apprentices. I
shall choose orphans wherever possible, to the end of giving them a
family, and bringing them up good republicans. I have not, have I,
Charlotte, presumed too much upon you, in counting on your help for
these poor boys?"
"Ah, count also on my co-operation, my dear John," exclaimed Madam
Desmarais, her eyes filling with tears. "I now understand the grandeur,
the usefulness, the holiness of the task which you impose upon yourself
for the benefit of your apprentices and workmen. You seek to educate
them; you charge yourself with the molding of their characters!"
Gertrude, entering at that moment, said to the young workman:
"Monsieur Desmarais knows that you are here, Monsieur Lebrenn. He asks
you to wait for him. He will be in directly."
"Mother," said Charlotte sadly, "grievous as is the dissimulation, I
believe there is every necessity for us not to inform father as yet of
our resolve to live apart from him after my wedding."
"I am not of your opinion, my dear Charlotte," objected John, whose
candidness would have suffered under the reticence. "At any rate, we
have time to consider the matter. But it is necessary to decide, before
Monsieur Desmarais comes in on how to convey to Monsieur Hubert the
proposal I made to you, dear mother."
"Dear John," replied Madam Desmarais, "I have a secure means of
communication with him. But should my letter indeed be intercepted, and
your name be found in it, do you not fear to be compromised?"
"Should they seize your letter, it will not injure me in the slightest.
The attempt I make is loyal. I accept proudly the responsibility
attached to it, the same as, this very morning, I took upon myself the
responsibility, still more serious on the face of it, of giving an
Emigrant who had sought refuge with me the means, not of escaping
justice--my duty would not permit that--but of leaving our house. Thanks
to me, the ex-Count of Plouernel was able, without molestation, to gain
a safe retreat."
"That great seigneur who once so shamefully outraged my husband?" cried
Madam Desmarais in surprise.
"Monsieur Plouernel," Charlotte asked, "the descendant of that ancient
family of warrior Franks which has done so much injury to your plebeian
stock?"
"Precisely. By a strange fatality, he picked a fight with me last night.
I thought I had killed him, but he was only stunned. This morning when
Monsieur Plouernel had sufficiently regained his senses and strength, I
conducted him to the threshold of our house. The porter, recognizing my
voice, opened the street door to the Emigrant. Now let the justice of
men be done; I can not denounce an enemy defeated and wounded."
At this moment advocate Desmarais stepped into the parlor, cordially
tendering his hand to Lebrenn, and saying:
"Good day, my dear friend, my worthy _pupil_." Then passing to the young
artisan a paper he held in his hand, the lawyer added: "Read that aloud,
my dear John."
Charlotte's betrothed read as follows:
"Citizen colleague:
"I announce to you the marriage of my daughter, Charlotte
Desmarais, to Citizen John Lebrenn, the iron worker.
"The vows of the two as husband and wife will be received by the
municipal officer of the Section of the Pikes, on the day that the
head of Louis Capet the tyrant falls on the scaffold.
"Fraternal greetings,
"BRUTUS DESMARAIS.
"December 12, year One of the
Republic one and indivisible."
"That is a copy of the circular letter I have just addressed to my
colleagues of the Convention, to invite them to your wedding with my
daughter. What do you say to the phrasing of my missive, and especially
to the time chosen for your wedding?"
"My God!" thought Madam Desmarais with a shudder, "the fate of Louis XVI
aroused my husband's pity, and still he chooses the day of that prince's
execution to marry our daughter upon. What abominable hypocrisy!" And
Madam Desmarais left the parlor.
"You ask me, Citizen Desmarais, what I think of your letter of
invitation, and of the time set for my union with Charlotte; I reply to
you, in all sincerity, that I extremely regret that you chose the day of
the execution of Louis XVI for our marriage."
"And I, father, hold with John."
"I suspect you, my daughter, of being a little royalist," replied the
lawyer in a bitter-sweet tone; "and as to you, my dear pupil, I did not
believe it necessary to remind you that the day a King's head falls into
the basket is a festive day, a day of joy for all good patriots."
"Citizen Desmarais, did I sit in the Convention I would have voted for
the death of Louis XVI, as a perjurer and a conspirer against the
nation. But the day when the glaive of the law strikes the last of the
Kings will not be a day of joy for the Republic."
"And what will it be, then, O my pupil? A day of mourning, perhaps?"
"For good patriots there will be neither joy nor mourning, Citizen
Desmarais. It will be a day of deep and sober thought. Louis XVI is not
a man, but a principle, representing the oldest monarchy in Europe. In
striking Louis XVI, it is royalty that is beheaded. It is not a head
that will fall to the scaffold, but a crown."
"My faith, my dear pupil, you have indeed out-reasoned your master. The
death of the tyrant, in fact, causes patriots more than the delirium of
joy, it causes a religious meditation, as you have so aptly said. But
what is done is done. I sent off my circular this morning to all our
friends in the Mountain; I can not now change the date of your
marriage."
"Father," said Charlotte gravely, "John and I have awaited for years the
day that would consummate our hopes; we would gladly consent to postpone
still further the day that is to unite us, in order not to coincide with
that of the death of the King, guilty though he be."
"Enough on that subject, my daughter, time presses. You, my pupil, will
come to the notary's with me, if you please, to settle the terms of your
marriage contract. Thence we shall hie us to the Convention, where I
shall present you to my colleagues of the Mountain as my future
son-in-law."
"I would say to you, Citizen Desmarais, that I do not intend to
interfere in the making of the contract; that shall be drawn up as it
pleases you."
"But you must know, my dear pupil, what dowry I settle upon my
daughter!"
"That is a financial question in which I am not in the slightest degree
interested."
"Ah, my children," returned the lawyer, in sepulchral tones, "what
regret I feel at not being able to endow you as I would wish! But I have
ruined myself in patriotic gifts. Save for this house and some little
properties which amount to almost nothing, there remain to me in all
only 850 louis, which I share with you, my children. This dowry is very
small, my dear John, after that which you hoped to secure from your
father-in-law."
"The thought of a dower never presented itself to me; be convinced of
that, Monsieur Desmarais."
"I believe you, my dear pupil, expecting no less of your delicacy. But,
apart from the 425 louis which I leave to you, you shall be lodged here,
without expense to you; for we shall never part, my dear pupil. We shall
be but one single family, and we shall also find room for your sister,
who has so admirably lived down her past; for I no longer see in her the
mistress of Louis XV, but the worthy daughter of the proletaire. And so,
my dear John, it is indeed settled that neither you nor your wife shall
leave me; I count on it, absolutely; it is for our peace and mutual
happiness."
Charlotte was as indifferent as John to the figure of her dowry; but
knowing through her mother that the settlement originally was to have
been 120,000 livres, buried in the cellar of the house, the young girl
was wounded by the secret calculations of her father, who, she thought
(nor was she mistaken), in dowering her so niggardly expected to force
John Lebrenn to take up his residence with him.
"I must thank you for your offer, Citizen Desmarais," answered John,
"but I desire but one thing in the world, the hand of Charlotte. That I
have obtained. All the rest is in my eyes but a bauble; it concerns me
little, and troubles me not at all."
"Such delicacy does not surprise me, coming from you, my dear John. So
you accept the terms of contract, as to the dowry? It is agreed?"
"Perfectly, and without objection."
"In that case, let us at once set about drawing up the marriage
articles. The notary awaits us."
"Adieu, Charlotte. I shall at once see the members of the Committee of
General Safety about your uncle," added John softly to his betrothed.
"Ah, if I had ever hesitated to leave my father's house," replied the
young girl to her lover in like tones, "this last interview with him
would have removed my scruples."
"Come, my pupil, let us go," said the lawyer, approaching the young
couple. "Adieu, my daughter; tell mother that our dear John will dine
here--the betrothal feast!"
"Till we meet again, father," answered the young girl, with a look of
intelligence to John, who, accompanying his future father-in-law, left
the house.