THE FRIEND IN NEED.
The very thing encouraging the Tuileries party was what awed the rebels.
The palace had become a formidable fortress, with a dreadful garrison.
During the night of the fourth of August, the Swiss battalions had been
drawn from out of town into the palace. A few companies were left at
Gaillon, where the king might take refuge.
Three reliable leaders were beside the queen: Maillardet with his
Switzers, Hervilly with the St. Louis Knights and the Constitutional
Guard, and Mandat, who, as National Guard commander, promised twenty
thousand devoted and resolute fighting men.
On the evening of the eighth a man penetrated the fort; everybody knew
him, so that he had no difficulty in passing to the queen's rooms,
where they announced "Doctor Gilbert."
"Ah, welcome, welcome, doctor!" said the royal lady, in a feverish
voice, "I am happy to see you."
He looked sharply at her, for on the whole of her face was such
gladness and satisfaction that it made him shudder. He would sooner
have seen her pale and disheartened.
"I fear I have arrived too late," he said.
"It is just the other way, doctor," she replied, with a smile, an
expression her lips had almost forgotten how to make; "you come at the
right time, and you are welcome. You are going to see what I have long
yearned to show you--a king really royal."
"I am afraid, madame, that you are deceiving yourself," he returned,
"and that you will exhibit rather the commandant of a fort."
"Perhaps, Doctor Gilbert, we can never come to a closer understanding
on the symbolical character of royalty than on other matters. For me a
king is not solely a man who may say, 'I do not wish,' but one who can
say, 'Thus I will.'"
She alluded to the famous veto which led to this crisis.
"Yes, madame," said Gilbert, "and for your majesty, a king is a ruler
who takes revenge."
"Who defends himself," she retorted; "for you know we are openly
threatened, and are to be attacked by an armed force. We are assured
that five hundred desperadoes from Marseilles, headed by one Barbaroux,
took an oath on the ruins of the Bastile, not to go home until they had
camped on the ruins of the Tuileries."
"Indeed, I have heard something of the kind," remarked Gilbert.
"Which only makes you laugh?"
"It alarms me for the king and yourself, madame."
"So that you come to propose that we should resign, and place ourselves
at the mercy of Messieurs Barbaroux and his Marseilles bullies?"
"I only wish the king could abdicate and guarantee, by the sacrifice of
his crown, his life and yours, and the safety of your children."
"Is this the advice you give us, doctor?"
"It is; and I humbly beseech you to follow it."
"Monsieur Gilbert, let me say that you are not consistent in your
opinions."
"My opinions are always the same, madame. Devoted to king and country,
I wished him to be in accord with the Constitution; from this desire
springs the different pieces of counsel which I have submitted."
"What is the one you fit to this juncture?"
"One that you have never had such a good chance to follow. I say, get
away."
"Flee?"
"Ah, you well know that it is possible, and never could be carried
out with greater facility. You have nearly three thousand men in the
palace."
"Nearer five thousand," said the queen, with a smile of satisfaction,
"with double to rise at the first signal we give."
"You have no need to give a signal, which may be intercepted; the five
thousand will suffice."
"What do you think we ought to do with them?"
"Set yourself in their midst, with the king and your august children;
dash out when least expected; at a couple of leagues out, take to horse
and ride into Normandy, to Gaillon, where you are looked for."
"You mean, place ourselves under the thumb of General Lafayette?"
"At least, he has proved that he is devoted to you."
"No, sir, no! With my five thousand in hand, and as many more ready to
come at the call, I like another course better--to crush this revolt
once for all."
"Oh, madame, how right he was who said you were doomed."
"Who was that, sir?"
"A man whose name I dare not repeat to you; but he has spoken three
times to you."
"Silence!" said the queen, turning pale; "we will try to give the lie
to this prophet of evil."
"Madame, I am very much afraid that you are blinded."
"You think that they will venture to attack us?"
"The public spirit turns to this quarter."
"And they reckon on walking in here as easily as they did in June?"
"This is not a stronghold."
"Nay; but if you will come with me, I will show you that we can hold
out some time."
With joy and pride she showed him all the defensive measures of the
military engineers and the number of the garrison whom she believed
faithful.
"That is a comfort, madame," he said, "but it is not security."
"You frown on everything, let me tell you, doctor."
"Your majesty has taken me round where you like; will you let me take
you to your own rooms, now?"
"Willingly, doctor, for I am tired. Give me your arm."
Gilbert bowed to have this high favor, most rarely granted by the
sovereign, even to her intimate friends, especially since her
misfortune.
When they were in her sitting-room he dropped on one knee to her as she
took a seat in an arm-chair.
"Madame," said he, "let me adjure you, in the name of your august
husband, your dear ones, your own safety, to make use of the forces
about you, to flee and not to fight."
"Sir," was the reply, "since the fourteenth of July, I have been
aspiring for the king to have his revenge; I believe the time has
come. We will save royalty, or bury ourselves under the ruins of the
Tuileries."
"Can nothing turn you from this fatal resolve?"
"Nothing."
She held out her hand to him, half to help him to rise, half to send
him away. He kissed her hand respectfully, and rising, said:
"Will your majesty permit me to write a few lines which I regard as so
urgent that I do not wish to delay one instant?"
"Do so, sir," she said, pointing to a writing-table, where he sat down
and wrote these lines:
"MY LORD,--Come! the queen is in danger of death, if a
friend does not persuade her to flee, and I believe you are the
only one who can have that influence over her."
"May I ask whom you are writing to, without being too curious?"
demanded the lady.
"To the Count of Charny, madame," was Gilbert's reply.
"And why do you apply to him?"
"For him to obtain from your majesty what I fail to do."
"Count Charny is too happy to think of his unfortunate friends; he will
not come," said the queen.
The door opened, and an usher appeared.
"The Right Honorable, the Count of Charny," he announced, "desiring to
learn if he may present his respects to your majesty."
The queen had been pale, and now became corpse-like, as she stammered
some unintelligible words.
"Let him enter," said Gilbert; "Heaven hath sent him."
Charny appeared at the door in naval officer's uniform.
"Oh, come in, sir; I was writing for you," said the physician, handing
him the note.
"Hearing of the danger her majesty was incurring, I came," said the
nobleman, bowing.
"Madame, for Heaven's sake, hear and heed what Count Charny says," said
Gilbert; "his voice will be that of France."
Respectfully saluting the lord and the royal lady, Gilbert went out,
still cherishing a last hope.