CHARNY ON GUARD.
On the night of the ninth of August, the royal family supped as usual;
nothing could disturb the king in his meals. But while Princess
Elizabeth and Lady Lamballe wept and prayed, the queen prayed without
weeping. The king withdrew to go to confession.
At this time the doors opened, and Count Charny walked in, pale, but
perfectly calm.
"May I have speech with the king?" he asked, as he bowed.
"At present I am the king," answered Marie Antoinette.
Charny knew this as well as anybody, but he persisted.
"You may go up to the king's rooms, count, but I protest that you will
very much disturb him."
"I understand; he is with Mayor Petion."
"The king is with his ghostly counselor," replied the lady, with an
indescribable expression.
"Then I must make my report to your majesty as major-general of the
castle," said the count.
"Yes, if you will kindly do so."
"I have the honor to set forth the effective strength of our forces.
The heavy horse-guards, under Rulhieres and Verdiere, to the number
of six hundred, are in battle array on the Louvre grand square; the
Paris City foot-guards are barracked in the stables; a hundred and
fifty are drawn from them to guard at Toulouse House, at need, the
Treasury and the discount and extra cash offices; the Paris Mounted
Patrol, only thirty men, are posted in the princes' yard, at the foot
of the king's back stairs; two hundred officers and men of the old Life
Guards, a hundred young Royalists, as many noblemen, making some four
hundred combatants, are in the Bull's-eye Hall and adjoining rooms;
two or three hundred National Guards are scattered in the gardens
and court-yards; and lastly, fifteen hundred Swiss, the backbone of
resistance, are taking position under the grand vestibule and the
staircases which they are charged to defend."
"Do not all these measures set you at ease, my lord?" inquired the
queen.
"Nothing can set me at ease when your majesty's safety is at stake,"
returned the count.
"Then your advice is still for flight?"
"My advice, madame, is that you ought, with the king and the royal
children, be in the midst of us."
The queen shook her head.
"Your majesty dislikes Lafayette? Be it so. But you have confidence
in the Duke of Liancourt, who is in Rouen, in the house of an English
gentleman of the name of Canning. The commander of the troops in that
province has made them swear allegiance to the king; the Salis-Chamade
Swiss regiment is echeloned across the road, and it may be relied on.
All is still quiet. Let us get out over the swing-bridge, and reach
the Etoille bars, where three hundred of the horse-guards await us. At
Versailles, we can readily get together fifteen hundred noblemen. With
four thousand, I answer for taking you wherever you like to go."
"I thank you, Lord Charny. I appreciate the devotion which made you
leave those dear to you, to offer your services to a foreigner."
"The queen is unjust toward me," replied Charny. "My sovereign's
existence is always the most precious of all in my eyes, as duty is
always the dearest of virtues."
"Duty--yes, my lord," murmured the queen; "but I believe I understand
my own when everybody is bent on doing theirs. It is to maintain
royalty grand and noble, and to have it fall worthily, like the
ancient gladiators, who studied how to die with grace."
"Is this your majesty's last word?"
"It is--above all, my last desire."
Charny bowed, and as he met Mme. Campan by the door, he said to her:
"Suggest to the princesses that they should put all their valuables
in their pockets, as they may have to quit the palace without further
warning."
While the governess went to speak to the ladies, he returned to the
queen, and said:
"Madame, it is impossible that you should not have some hope beyond the
reliance on material forces. Confide in me, for you will please bear in
mind that at such a strait, I will have to give an account to the Maker
and to man for what will have happened."
"Well, my lord," said the queen, "an agent is to pay Petion two hundred
thousand francs, and Danton fifty thousand, for which sums the latter
is to stay at home and the other is to come to the palace."
"Are you sure of the go-betweens?"
"You said that Petion had come, which is something toward it."
"Hardly enough; as I understood that he had to be sent for three times."
"The token is, in speaking to the king, he is to touch his right
eyebrow with his forefinger--"
"But if not arranged?"
"He will be our prisoner, and I have given the most positive orders
that he is not to be let quit the palace."
The ringing of a bell was heard.
"What is that?" inquired the queen.
"The general alarm," rejoined Charny.
The princesses rose in alarm.
"What is the matter?" exclaimed the queen. "The tocsin is always the
trumpet of rebellion."
"Madame," said Charny, more affected by the sinister sound than the
queen, "I had better go and learn whether the alarm means anything
grave."
"But we shall see you again?" asked she, quickly.
"I came to take your majesty's orders, and I shall not leave you until
you are out of danger."
Bowing, he went out. The queen stood pensive for a space, murmuring: "I
suppose we had better see if the king has got through confessing."
While she was going out, Princess Elizabeth took some garments off a
sofa in order to lie down with more comfort; from her fichu she removed
a cornelian brooch, which she showed to Mme. Campan; the engraved
stone had a bunch of lilies and the motto: "Forget offenses, forgive
injuries."
"I fear that this will have little influence over our enemies," she
remarked; "but it ought not be the less dear to us."
As she was finishing the words, a gunshot was heard in the yard.
The ladies screamed.
"There goes the first shot," said Lady Elizabeth. "Alas! it will not be
the last."
Mayor Petion had come into the palace under the following
circumstances. He arrived about half past ten. He was not made to
wait, as had happened before, but was told that the king was ready to
see him; but to arrive, he had to walk through a double row of Swiss
guards, National Guards, and those volunteer royalists called Knights
of the Dagger. Still, as they knew he had been sent for, they merely
cast the epithets of "traitor" and "Judas" in his face as he went up
the stairs.
Petion smiled as he went in at the door of the room, for here the king
had given him the lie on the twentieth of June; he was going to have
ample revenge.
The king was impatiently awaiting.
"Ah! so you have come, Mayor Petion?" he said. "What is the good word
from Paris?"
Petion furnished the account of the state of matters--or, at least, an
account.
"Have you nothing more to tell me?" demanded the ruler.
"No," replied Petion, wondering why the other stared at him. Louis
watched for the signal that the mayor had accepted the bribe.
It was clear that the king had been cheated; some swindler had pocketed
the money. The queen came in as the question was put to Petion.
"How does our friend stand?" she whispered.
"He has not made any sign," rejoined the king.
"Then he is our prisoner," said she.
"Can I retire?" inquired the mayor.
"For God's sake, do not let him go!" interposed the queen.
"Not yet, sir; I have something yet to say to you," responded the king,
raising his voice. "Pray step into this closet."
This implied to those in the inner room that Petion was intrusted to
them, and was not to be allowed to go.
Those in the room understood perfectly, and surrounded Petion, who felt
that he was a prisoner. He was the thirtieth in a room where there was
not elbow-room for four.
"Why, gentlemen, we are smothering here," he said; "I propose a change
of air."
It was a sentiment all agreed with, and they followed him out of the
first door he opened, and down into the walled-in garden, where he was
as much confined as in the closet. To kill time, he picked up a pebble
or two and tossed them over the walls.
While he was playing thus, and chatting with Roederer, attorney of the
province, the message came twice that the king wanted to see him.
"No," replied Petion; "it is too hot quarters up there. I remember the
closet, and I have no eagerness to be in it again. Besides, I have an
appointment with somebody on the Feuillants' Quay."
He went on playing at clearing the wall with stones.
"With whom have you an appointment?" asked Roederer.
At this instant the Assembly door on the Feuillants' Quay opened.
"I fancy this is just what I was waiting for," remarked the mayor.
"Order to let Mayor Petion pass forth," said a voice; "the Assembly
demands his presence at the bar of the House, to give an account of the
state of the city."
"Just the thing," muttered Petion. "Here I am," he replied, in a loud
voice; "I am ready to respond to the quips of my enemies."
The National Guards, imagining that Petion was to be berated, let him
out.
It was nearly three in the morning; the day was breaking. A singular
thing, the aurora was the hue of blood.