RED CAPS AND LILIES
BY KATHARINE ADAMS
MEHITABLE: The story of a school in Paris
THE SILVER TARN: Mehitable in school in England
TOTO AND THE GIFT: A French girl comes to New York
MIDSUMMER: American young people in Sweden
MIDWINTER: Another mystery story of Sweden today
WISP: A girl of Dublin
RED CAPS AND LILIES: Boys and girls during the French Revolution
THISTLE INN: How two girls helped Bonnie Prince Charlie
BLACKTHORN: A romance of Elizabethan England and Ireland
[Illustration: At The Old Green Mill-Inn]
Red Caps and Lilies
BY KATHARINE ADAMS
_Illustrated by_
JAY VAN EVEREN
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1943
COPYRIGHT, 1924,
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
All rights reserved—no part of this book may be
reproduced in any form without permission in writing
from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes
to quote brief passages in connection with a review
written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper.
Set up and electrotyped. Published April, 1924.
Reprinted January, 1925; April, 1926; June, 1927; May, 1928.
Reissued November, 1932.
Reprinted September, 1934.
January, 1936.
February, 1937.
February, 1938.
December, 1938.
February, 1940.
October, 1941.
July, 1943.
_Printed in the United States of America by_
THE FERRIS PRINTING COMPANY, NEW YORK
_FOR ROSE FILLMORE_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. IN THE SCHOOLROOM 1
II. MARIE JOSEPHINE’S SECRET 11
III. THE BAL MASQUÉ 22
IV. JEAN 39
V. INSIDE THE COACH 52
VI. AUGUST TENTH, 1792 64
VII. AT LES VIGNES 79
VIII. HUMPHREY TRAIL 101
IX. DIAN 113
X. IN THE SNOWSTORM 124
XI. “THA MUST NOT CRY OUT, LASS” 137
XII. DIAN MAKES A FRIEND 148
XIII. PIGEON VALLEY AGAIN 159
XIV. WHAT LISLE PUT IN THE CAKE 173
XV. “SHE IS LIKE OUR LITTLE MADEMOISELLE” 193
XVI. MARIE JOSEPHINE IS READY 201
XVII. AT THE OLD GREEN MILL-INN 217
XVIII. VIVI SEES THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GATES 232
XIX. IN THE BAKERY SHOP AND OUT OF IT 245
XX. LISLE SEEKS ADVENTURE 256
XXI. IN THE HIDDEN CELLAR 268
XXII. CHAMPAR TO THE RESCUE 288
XXIII. IN GREAT-AUNT HORTENSE’S HOUSE 302
XXIV. THROUGH THE GATES 318
XXV. OUT OF THE MIST 339
ILLUSTRATIONS
AT THE OLD GREEN MILL-INN _Frontispiece_
PAGE
MARIE JOSEPHINE 2
FLAMBEAU 16
LISLE 28
JEAN 40
LE PONT 62
HUMPHREY TRAIL 74
CÉCILE 82
BERTRAN 98
PINCE NEZ 118
GRIGGE 126
DIAN 150
VIVI 194
RED CAPS AND LILIES
CHAPTER I
IN THE SCHOOLROOM
“Flambeau!”
The sound was illusive. Flambeau listened with every bit of him, his
taut, strong body alert with eagerness. The call might have come from
the landing outside the small salon of Madame la Comtesse, but it had
sounded higher up; the schoolroom, perhaps, or the nurseries beyond.
Flambeau gained the top of a high staircase with a few leaping bounds,
ran down a corridor, turned a corner, and almost knocked down his own
Marie Josephine, who had been calling him. He leaped upon her in
welcome.
“I’ve been out on the balcony, Flambeau. I called you from there, for I
thought you might be in the garden.”
A voice from a half-open door near them called sharply, “Marie
Josephine, come in and close the door.”
Marie Josephine walked slowly toward a flicker of light reflected on the
wall opposite the schoolroom door, and went inside, closing the door
after her. Flambeau had come in with her and he walked somewhat
disdainfully toward a table which was drawn close to a dancing fire in a
deep, old-fashioned fireplace. The table was covered with bits of
brocade, satin, and gold lace. Two girls sat one on each side of it, and
a short, fat maid sat cross-legged on a stool at their feet, bending
over a piece of sewing in her lap. When Marie Josephine and the dog came
into the room, the maid stood up and made a curtsy.
“Will you sit in your favorite big chair by the fire, Little
Mademoiselle?” she asked.
Marie Josephine shook her head for reply, watching the swift darting of
the maid’s needle as she sat down again and went on with her work. Then
she glanced at her cousin Hortense, who held a piece of ermine up before
her.
“It will do for the edging of the mantle, will it not, Proté?” Hortense
asked the maid. Without waiting for an answer, she went on speaking. “I
hoped that Tante would allow us to sew the ruby in the crown, but she
would not consent!” As she spoke, Hortense looked at Denise, Marie
Josephine’s sister, who sat opposite her.
Denise tossed her red-brown curls out of her eyes and pouted. The pout
made her look younger than her fourteen and a half years.
“You’ve made this one crookedly. You must do another one at once,
Proté,” she said, handing the maid a small black object.
“Yes, Mademoiselle,” Proté answered. [Illustration: Marie Josephine]
“Fasten this cord, please, Proté. It does not seem to be right the way I
have done it!” Hortense held out another black object to the little
maid, who took it smilingly, with a little bow which made her black
hair, gathered into a huge knob at the back of her neck, stand out like
a big black bun.
Marie Josephine still stood by the fire, Flambeau beside her. She looked
at her brother as he spoke.
“Proté cannot do everything at once,” he said. He sat in the deep shadow
of the window seat at the far end of the room, his hands clasped about
his knees.
Denise smiled at him over her shoulder as she answered: “You know
nothing about these things, Lisle. You have nothing to do about them,
but sit and look on. All that concerns you regarding them is that you
are to wear the robe and crown at the De Soignés’ ball!”
“Ball! You speak as though you were going to a ball. You are only two
years older than Rosanne and I. There is no reason why we should not
have been invited. I should think they would be ashamed to leave Rosanne
out of it all!” exclaimed Marie Josephine.
“Little Mademoiselle would like, perhaps, to make a bow for her hair? A
rosette of this rose brocade and a bit of the gold tinsel would become
her,” suggested Proté, tying a neat knot in a corner of the piece of
black cardboard which Hortense had handed her.
Marie Josephine shook her head. “No, Proté,” she answered.
Flambeau came up to Denise and nosed at the bits of ribbon in her lap.
Denise gave his head a pat.
“Would you not like Flambeau to have a big rose bow? Greyhounds always
look better with bows,” she said.
Marie Josephine shook her head listlessly, but did not speak. A big rose
bow would be charming for Flambeau, a puffy one under his right ear. She
was not invited to the De Soigné party, therefore she would not appear
to be interested in any of the glittering array on the table. She caught
her brother’s eyes. His head was thrown back against the dark,
carved-oak window settle. He was looking straight at Marie Josephine,
and she saw that he was smiling. She frowned at him with her straight
black brows, and he frowned back with his straight fair ones. Marie
Josephine’s frown was in earnest, but her brother’s was in fun.
“What a thundercloud! What a dragon! What an ogress! What a——”
Marie Josephine stopped her brother’s words with a stamp of her foot.
“You are not to say that, Lisle!” she exclaimed passionately.
“Don’t tease her, my cousin. How can you do it?” reproved Hortense,
rising as she spoke and going over to the fireplace. She laid both hands
on the carved, gilded mantelpiece and stood looking down at the dancing
swirl of blue and gold. Suddenly she put her face in her hands.
Marie Josephine went up to her and touched her arm, forgetting her own
trouble for the moment. “What is it, Hortense? Why are you sad?” she
asked.
Hortense raised her face and smiled. “I’m not sad, chérie; not this
afternoon. It is only that now everything seems grey and dreadful, and
Tante is unhappy because so many of her friends have gone away, and
because of everything.”
“You’ll have the party,” Marie Josephine answered bitterly.
Her cousin put her arm about her for a moment and gave her a little hug.
“You want to go so badly. I do wish you could; but even if Madame de
Soigné had asked you, Tante would never have allowed you to go. Twelve
and a half doesn’t sound much younger than fourteen and a half, but it
is, you know,” she said.
“I’m always treated like a baby,” Marie Josephine replied. There was a
good deal of truth in her words. She was small and quiet and shy. She
would not be thirteen until November and that was three months away.
Lisle came up to the fire, stepping over Flambeau, who had settled
himself in the heat of the blaze, and pinched Marie Josephine’s ear.
Proté came up to him with a collar of fluted gold tinsel and ermine.
“Will you allow me to see if it fits properly, Monsieur Lisle?” she
asked, putting her funny, plump face on one side as she examined her
handiwork.
“No, I’ll not be bothered with frills to-day.” Lisle frowned this time
in earnest, rubbing his shoulders restlessly against the side of the
mantel and looking out of the window where dark trees tossed against a
grey, stormy sky.
Hortense and Denise both spoke at once. “Lisle!” they exclaimed. Denise
jumped up and came over to him, dragging a piece of blue velvet after
her and unmindful of the fact that a piece of black cardboard was
sticking to her chin. They all burst out laughing as she clasped her
hands together and burst into a torrent of words.
“Lisle, you’re not going to be obstinate. You are going to be the Sun
King at the ball, aren’t you?” she pleaded.
Lisle shrugged his shoulders, saying teasingly: “We shall see. I’ll not
go with you if you do not clean your face. A nice, grown-up duchess you
will make, with paste and black paper on your chin. I for one think it’s
all nonsense. It’s stupid of the De Soigné to have a party now.”
Lisle was tall, and he held his blond head high, which made him look
even taller and older than he was. He would not be sixteen until the
following winter. He had a very fair face with a pointed nose and blue
eyes which had a straight unwinking way of looking at one. His cousin
Hortense, who had lived in his family since her infancy, was almost as
tall as he, but she was dark, like Marie Josephine. Strangers always
took them for sisters.
“I think it’s splendid of the De Soigné to have the party!” Denise
danced mockingly in front of her brother as she spoke. He had consented
to allow Proté to try on the collar, but he stood frowning over her
shoulder as she surveyed the effect.
Some one came in quickly from the nurseries beyond. It was a short,
sharp-nosed woman in a black silk dress with wide, flowing sleeves and a
fichu of lace at the neck. This was Madame le Pont, the governess.
“There you are, chérie. I have been uneasy because I could not find you.
Surely you have not been in the garden unattended!”
“I wasn’t in the garden. I was out on the balcony listening,” Marie
Josephine answered.
“Listening! What do you mean?” the governess asked her.
“The noises of Paris, Madame. There are so many noises now. Flambeau was
restless last night. He heard them, too!”
There was a low rap on the door. It opened and a servant came in. He
walked noiselessly about the room, a taper in his hand, and a moment
later lights flickered and then shone bravely from the many candles in
bronze sockets on the tapestried walls. The servant made a bright bit of
color himself as he moved about in his trousers of crimson velvet.
“Madame la Comtesse wishes the young ladies, Mademoiselle Hortense and
Mademoiselle Denise, to accompany her in an hour’s time to the house of
Madame la Comtesse de Soigné,” he announced.
Denise gave a little laugh of pleasure and danced the whole length of
the room and back again. Then she caught Flambeau’s forepaws and tried
to make him dance too, but the dog had such a bored expression that
Denise only laughed again and dropped his paws.
“It is only Marie Josephine that you love, is it not, Flambeau?” she
exclaimed, and then went on eagerly: “We shall enjoy talking about the
ball with the dear De Soigné. Proté, I wish to wear my white cloak in
spite of the storm.”
“I am tired of the very name of this ball!” Lisle walked over to the
door as he spoke, but turned as Denise answered him.
“We are happy about it because we have had no fun in such a long time,
now that everything is so different. Maman will not allow us to go out
except in our own garden and to the De Soigné. It is only because they
live in the next square that we may go there at all,” she said.
“Maman is foolish!” Lisle exclaimed, and the governess admonished him.
“Monsieur Lisle!”
“It is true, Madame le Pont. There is no real danger, not here in Paris.
It is 1792, not the dark ages. Help will come from the royalists in
Europe. It is only a question of being patient. It is not really a
revolution, you know!”
Marie Josephine watched her brother with admiration as he spoke. How
tall and brave and confident he was!
The governess smiled sadly but she was cheerful enough when she spoke.
“Come at once, Mesdemoiselles,” she said briskly. “Proté, tell Felice
that the young ladies wish their coiffures done at once, and see to
their mantles and hats yourself.” Then she turned to Lisle, who still
stood lounging against the door.
“What will you do while they are away, Monsieur Lisle?” she asked.
Lisle smiled in his quiet, teasing way.
“I’m going to ride with my tutor, Madame,” he answered.
Madame le Pont threw up her hands. “Please do not do it when it so
worries Madame your mother. It makes her afraid when you are so
reckless!” she exclaimed.
“You are never to say that my mother is afraid, if you please, Madame,”
Lisle said and, as he spoke, he opened the door and went out.
Madame le Pont went over to the table and stood fingering the bits of
gold lace there. Marie Josephine watched her. Why had she not been told
that she could go with Hortense and Denise? Rosanne de Soigné was her
greatest chum. They could have sat quietly in a corner and talked. Marie
Josephine turned toward the nurseries and then looked back at the
governess, who still stood by the table.
“Le Pont is worrying. She is uneasy like maman. This is a bad time.
Grandfather said that it would come. He said to me: 'Little Marie
Josephine, I can almost see the black clouds, they are so thick ahead of
us. But when they come I shall not be here, and I am the only one that
seems to know they are drifting toward us!’”
The governess looked up and when she looked at Marie Josephine it was as
though she had for the moment forgotten her.
“Little one, what will you do while I am away this afternoon? Proté will
amuse you if you like. Perhaps you will work for a little while on the
tapestry for your great-aunt?”
Marie Josephine shook her head vigorously. She stood thinking for a
moment and then smiled up at the governess.
“I won’t be lonely, Madame. I don’t mind them at all. They may have as
many parties as they like. They may go out for goûter every afternoon.
It is nothing to me. I do not care!” She spoke earnestly but she knew
she was not speaking the truth and the governess knew it also.
“But what will you do, then, all the rest of the afternoon?” Madame le
Pont insisted.
“I’ll be thinking of grandfather,” Marie Josephine answered.