THE END OF THE TERROR
Surrounded by Henriot's mounted guards, the tumbrils lumbered slowly to
the Place de la Revolution. There a large crowd had assembled to witness
the daily tribute to the guillotine.
"You shall not be disappointed, my patriots!" cried Henriot.
They answered him with a cheer. The crowd here was in sympathy with him,
and he felt grimly cheerful.
"My friends, you will cheer again when you learn that one hour ago
Robespierre was set free by me. The convention is trembling. The Commune
triumphs."
Again the crowd cheered.
Henriot rode up to the guillotine.
"Sanson," he cried out to the executioner, "here is your daily
allowance. We have kept you waiting, but you can now use dispatch."
The occupants in the tumbrils had seen their last hope of deliverance
vanish in the Rue Vaugirard. They were fully prepared for death. One
after another they mounted the fatal scaffold and were led to the
guillotine.
Some went bravely forward to meet their fate. Others almost fainted and
were nearly dead from fear by the time they reached the hands of Sanson.
La Liberte came forward with a firm step. As she did so, the crowd set
up a deafening shout. It was a shout of genuine astonishment at the
sight of this well-known figure, though mingled with it were cries of
satisfaction from those who had been jealous of her popularity. Some
thought it was a new escapade on her part, and they applauded it all the
louder because of its daring nature.
Even the red-handed Sanson opened his huge bull's-mouth with surprise as
she appeared before him.
"Bon jour, Sanson," said she airily; "you did not look for me to-day, I
imagine. Do not touch me," she exclaimed as he stretched out his large
hand towards her. "I have sent too many along this road, not to know the
way myself, alone." Then walking down until she stood under the very
shadow of the knife she looked out over the sea of faces.
The mighty yell was repeated.
The pallor of approaching death was on her face, but unflinchingly she
met the gaze of thousands, while with a toss of her chestnut curls she
surveyed them proudly, taking the shouts as a tribute to herself.
Suddenly her face became animated and the color rushed back to her
cheeks.
"Well done, my compatriot!" she exclaimed aloud; she no longer saw the
crowd at her feet, but stood transfixed, her gaze on the further corner
of the square.
There Robert Tournay, at the head of some of his own men, charged upon
Henriot's troops. Steel clashed upon steel, and Tournay's men pressed
on.
"Bravely struck, my compatriot. Well parried, my compatriot. That was
worthy of my brave colonel. One little moment, Sanson," she pleaded as
the burly executioner caught her by the arm.
"You have had twice the allotted time already," he objected; "you are
keeping the others waiting."
"One more look, Sanson, just one! Ah, well done, my brave."
"En avant," said the ruthless Sanson.
"Good-by, compatriot," murmured La Liberte, a tear glistening in her
eye. The knife descended, and La Liberte was no more.
"Another!" said the insatiable executioner, extending his huge hands
towards the cart.
St. Hilaire looked into Madame d'Arlincourt's face. Their eyes met full.
"Madame," he said, "in such a case as this you will pardon me if I
precede you," and stepping in front of her he walked quietly up the
scaffold.
Meantime Colonel Tournay, with Captain Dessarts at his shoulder and a
company of his own troops behind him, had dashed out of a side street
into the Place de la Revolution.
Tournay, with the ends of the blood-stained kerchief flapping on his
forehead, and the sword wrested from the gendarme waving in his hand,
urged his men forward.
Commandant Henriot, his forces augmented by a company of civic guards,
charged upon them. The commandant's men outnumbered those led by the
colonel, two to one, but in the shock that followed the tried veterans
held together like a granite wall, and broke through Henriot's troops,
hurling them in disorder to the right and left of the square.
Tournay saw the white-clad figure of La Liberte disappear under the
glittering knife. He saw St. Hilaire standing on the scaffold with head
turned toward Madame d'Arlincourt.
"Soldiers, on to the guillotine!" cried the colonel, dashing forward at
full speed.
The populace, who, between the blood of the executions and the battle
going on in the square, were mad with excitement, pressed forward, and
circled about the scaffold, angrily menacing the approaching troops, who
seemed about to put an end to their entertainment.
"Sweep them away!" cried Tournay ruthlessly, his eye still upon the
scaffold where St. Hilaire stood. "Use the bayonet!"
Meanwhile Henriot, by desperate efforts, had rallied his own troopers at
the other side of the square, while his civic guards, having no further
stomach for the fray, had fled incontinently.
"Colonel, they are about to attack us in the rear," said Dessarts
warningly.
Tournay wheeled his men about as the enemy rode at them for a second
time. Henriot, with his brandy-swollen face purple with excitement, was
reeling drunk in his saddle, yet he plunged forward with the desperate
courage of a baited bull.
"Down with the traitor!" he yelled. "The Commune must triumph;
Robespierre is free, and the Republic lives."
With the answering cry of "Long live the Republic!" Tournay's men braced
themselves firmly together.
"Fire!" commanded the colonel. A deadly volley poured into the
commandant's forces.
"Charge!"
Henriot's troops were dashed back, scattered in all directions, and
their drunken commander, putting spurs to his horse, fled cursing from
the scene.
The populace, now thoroughly dismayed and frightened, parted on all
sides before the soldiers. Tournay ran to the guillotine. He leaped up
the steps of the scaffold.
"In the name of the convention, halt!" he cried.
"I know nothing about the convention," protested Sanson, laying his hand
upon St. Hilaire's shoulder. "This man is sent to me to be
guillotined--and"--
Tournay threw the executioner from the platform to the ground below, and
cutting the cords that bound St. Hilaire set his arms at liberty.
Captain Dessarts formed his men around the scaffold to prevent
interference on the part of the crowd. St. Hilaire took Tournay by the
hand.
"You have come in time, colonel, to do me a great service," he said.
"Now give me a weapon, and let me take part in any further fight."
Tournay gave him a pistol. St. Hilaire went to the side of Madame
d'Arlincourt. The crowd began again to surge around the soldiers
threateningly.
"Let the guillotine go on!" "Let the executioner finish his work!" were
the cries from all sides.
"Citizens," yelled Sanson, who had risen to his feet and was now rubbing
his bruised sides, "you are a thousand. They are only a few soldiers.
Take back the prisoners and I will execute them."
"Make ready--aim," was Colonel Tournay's quick command. The muskets
clicked; the crowd fell back. "Fix bayonets, forward march." And through
the press Colonel Tournay bore those whom he had saved from the
guillotine.
No organized attempt was made to attack them, and the party proceeded to
the Rue d'Arcis unmolested. Here Tournay turned to his captain.
"Dessarts, leave a file of men here and take the others back to their
barracks for repose, but hold them subject to immediate orders."
"Very good, my colonel," and the soldiers were marched away.
Madame d'Arlincourt showed signs of succumbing to the effects of the
terrible strain to which she had been subjected, and St. Hilaire,
supporting her gently, hastened to the door of his former servant.
In another instant they were all inside.
They passed through the corridor and entered the wainscoted salon. As
they did so the bookcase above moved gently. Edme entered through the
secret door and stood for an instant surrounded by a frame of dusty
books, looking down upon them.
In her plain gown of homespun, with her skin browned by exposure to the
air, and cheeks which had the glow of health in them despite the
hardship she had undergone, Edme de Rochefort was a different picture
from that of the girl of five years before. Yet it was not the present
Edme that suffered by comparison.
With a cry of joy she hastened down the stairs. "I have been told the
glorious news," she cried. "Have you returned to tell me it is all true?
But you are wounded!" she exclaimed in the same breath, with a cry of
alarm.
"'Tis nothing," Tournay replied, folding her in his arms. "I do not even
feel it."
"Is all the danger over?" she asked anxiously, looking up in his face.
"Not all over," he answered caressingly. "The result hangs in the
balance, but we shall win, we shall surely win. At present we have need
of a little food and repose. St. Hilaire and myself must go out again
shortly. Has Gaillard come with a message? I expected him from the
convention," he continued, addressing Beaurepaire.
"He has not returned," was the answer.
Edme turned to assist Agatha in caring for Madame d'Arlincourt, while
old Beaurepaire busied himself in setting forth some food upon the
table.
At this moment Gaillard burst into the room, followed by Father Ambrose.
"I bring glorious news!" cried the actor excitedly. "Robespierre, at one
time released by the aid of Henriot, has been rearrested. He has
attempted suicide. Henriot, St. Just, Couthon, are also arrested. They
will all be sent to the guillotine. The convention triumphs. The Commune
is defeated. The Reign of Terror is at an end."
The news was received with a great shout of joy. "Listen," called out
Gaillard, "and you will learn what the people think."
The booming of guns and the ringing of bells throughout the city
verified his statement.
"We have won!" said Colonel Tournay.
"Let us celebrate the victory by this feast that Beaurepaire has
provided!" exclaimed St. Hilaire.
Tournay drew Edme into the recess of one of the large windows. The sound
of a whole city rejoicing at the abolition of the Reign of Terror filled
the air. In the room at the back the voices of Gaillard and St. Hilaire
were heard in joyful conversation.
For a moment they stood in silence. She looked into his eyes and read
the question there.
[Illustration: A MOMENT THEY STOOD IN SILENCE]
"Yes," her eyes answered.
"In order to save your life," he said, "Father Ambrose once stated that
you and I were man and wife. It was a subterfuge, and had no other
meaning. We now stand before him once again; will you let him marry us
now?"
"Yes, Robert."
With a look of pride and happiness upon his face Tournay faced about and
addressed the company.
"There can be no more fitting time than this," he said, "to present to
you my bride," and he looked proudly down at Edme who still had her arm
through his.
"Father Ambrose," Tournay went on, "will you marry us now?"
The priest, who had evidently had a premonition of the event, was all
prepared; and in the wainscoted salon, with the portraits of the old
regime looking down upon them from the walls, Robert Tournay, a colonel
of the Republic, and Edme de Rochefort, of the ancient Regime of France,
were made man and wife.
"Let us drink a toast to them!" cried St. Hilaire as the happy party
gathered about the table after the ceremony. "Long life and happiness to
Colonel Robert Tournay and his bride!"
Beaurepaire filled their glasses with some rare old Burgundy, which he
drew from some hidden stores in the cellar, and the toast was drunk with
enthusiasm.
St. Hilaire's eyes met Madame d'Arlincourt's, and the look that was
interchanged foretold their future.
Tournay stood in silence for a moment, and when he did speak there was a
note in his voice which showed how deep was his emotion. "I will give
you a toast. Let us drink to the new France; for after all," he
continued, looking from one to the other, "we are all Frenchmen. The
fate of France must be our fate. With her we must stand or fall. A new
France has now risen from the ashes of the old. To her we turn with new
hope."
"Long live the Republic!" cried Gaillard.
Tournay, St. Hilaire, and Gaillard touched glasses and looked into one
another's eyes. They understood one another as brave men do.
"Nations may rise or they may crumble into dust," said Colonel Tournay,
"but Justice and Liberty are eternal. They will live always in the
hearts of men."
"And Love also," whispered Edme in his ear.
"Yes, truly, and Love also, sweetheart."