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diff --git a/22779-h/22779-h.htm b/22779-h/22779-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7434317 --- /dev/null +++ b/22779-h/22779-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11369 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The False Chevalier, by W. D. Lighthall. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 2%; + } + p.d { letter-spacing : 2em; + text-align:center; + } + p.beg {margin-left: 70%; + text-indent: -10%; + } + p.beg1 {margin-left: 70%; + text-indent: -5%; + } + p.beg2 {margin-left: 12%; + text-indent: -8%; + } + p.beg3 {margin-left: 40%; + text-indent: -25%; + } + .r {text-align: right;} + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; + } + .m {margin-top:15%; + } + .n {margin-top:5%; + } + .ind {text-indent: -8%;} + hr { width: 50%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + background:#fdfdfd; + color:black; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + font-size: large; + } + ul {list-style-type: none;text-indent: -1em;} + a:link {background-color: #ffffff; color: blue; text-decoration: none; } + link {background-color: #ffffff; color: blue; text-decoration: none; } + a:visited {background-color: #ffffff; color: blue; text-decoration: none; } + a:hover {background-color: #ffffff; color: red; text-decoration:underline; } + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + font-size: large; + } + .img {border: none; + text-align:center; + text-indent:0%; + margin-top:5%; + margin-bottom:5%; + font-size: 80%; + } + .blockquot {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 95%; + } + .blockquot1 {margin-left: 60%; margin-right: auto; + margin-top:-3%; + font-size: 95%; + } + .c {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0%; + } + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .6em; text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The False Chevalier, by William Douw Lighthall + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The False Chevalier + or, The Lifeguard of Marie Antoinette + +Author: William Douw Lighthall + +Release Date: September 27, 2007 [EBook #22779] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE CHEVALIER *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by the +Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions +www.canadiana.org) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p class="img"><img src="images/cover.png" alt="image: bookcover" /></p> +<h3>THE</h3> +<h1>FALSE CHEVALIER</h1> +<p class="c">OR</p> +<h3>The Lifeguard of Marie Antoinette</h3> +<p class="c">BY</p> +<h3>W. D. LIGHTHALL</h3> +<p class="c"><i>This Edition is intended for circulation only in the Dominion of +Canada.</i></p> +<p class="img"><img src="images/i001.png" alt="image: The Palace of Versailles" /> +<br /><span class="smcap">The Palace of Versailles.</span><br /> +<i>After the contemporary acquarelle by Portail.</i></p> +<p class="c">F. E. GRAFTON & SONS</p> +<p class="c">MONTREAL</p> +<p class="c">1898</p> +<p class="c">(<i>All rights reserved</i>)</p> +<p class="c">To<br /> +CYBEL, MY WIFE,<br /> +<span class="smcap">the sweet companion and critic<br /> +of my labours on<br /> +this book</span></p> + +<hr /> +<h3><a name="toc" id="toc"></a>CONTENTS</h3> +<p class="c">——</p> +<table summary="toc" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="4"> +<tr><td align="right">Chap.</td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td>THE FUR-TRADER'S SON</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td>GERMAIN IN FRANCE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td>THE INNKEEPER'S LESSON</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td>THE CASTLE OF QUIET WATERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td>MONSIEUR DE RÉPENTIGNY</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td>EPERGNES AND WAX-LIGHTS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td>"THE LEAP IS TAKEN"</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td>THE ABBÉ'S DISASTER</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td>A PHILOSOPHER BEHIND HORSE-PISTOLS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td>THE GALLEY-ON-LAND</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td>THE COURT</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td><td>GERMAIN GOES TO PARIS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td><td>A JAR IN ST. ELPHÈGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td><td>THE OLD-IRON SHOP</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></td><td>THE BEGGARS' BALL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></td><td>BROKEN ON THE WHEEL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></td><td>THE SAVING OF LA TOUR</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td><td>MADAME L'ETIQUETTE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></td><td>THE COMMISSION</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></td><td>DESCAMPATIVOS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></td><td>THE SHADOW OF THE GOLDEN DOG</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></td><td>THE SECRET OUT</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td><td>THE EXECUTIONER OF DESTINY</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV.</a></td><td>A CURIOUS PROFESSION</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV.</a></td><td>FACING THE MUSIC</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI.</a></td><td>A DUEL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII.</a></td><td>JUDE AND THE GALLEY</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII.</a></td><td>ANOTHER DUEL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX.</a></td><td>THE LETTRE DE CACHET</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX.</a></td><td>THE HEAVENS FALL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI.</a></td><td>ONE DEFENDER</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII.</a></td><td>A STRONG PROOF</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">XXXIII.</a></td><td>THE REGISTER OF ST. GERMAIN-DES-PRÉS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">XXXIV.</a></td><td>AT QUEBEC</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">XXXV.</a></td><td>AT ST. ELPHÈGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">XXXVI.</a></td><td>AT MONTREAL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">XXXVII.</a></td><td>ONCE MORE THE SWORD</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">XXXVIII.</a></td><td>THE RECORD</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">XXXIX.</a></td><td>THE MARQUIS'S VISITOR</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XL">XL.</a></td><td>AN UNEXPECTED ALLIANCE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">XLI.</a></td><td>A POOR ADVOCATE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">XLII.</a></td><td>A HARD SEASON</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">XLIII.</a></td><td>BACK AT EAUX TRANQUILLES</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">XLIV.</a></td><td>SELF-DEFENCE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">XLV.</a></td><td>THE NECESSITIES OF CONDITION</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">XLVI.</a></td><td>THE PATRIOTS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">XLVII.</a></td><td>THE DEFENCE OF THE BODYGUARD</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">XLVIII.</a></td><td>SISTERS DEATH AND TRUTH</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">XLIX.</a></td><td>CIVIC VIRTUE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_L">L.</a></td><td>JUDGMENT DAY</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_LI">LI.</a></td><td>LOVE ENDURETH ALL THINGS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_LII">LII.</a></td><td>THE SUPREME EXACTITUDE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_LIII">LIII.</a></td><td>RETRIBUTION ACCOMPLISHED</td></tr> +</table> + + + +<hr /> +<h3>PREFATORY NOTE</h3> +<p class="c">——</p> + +<p>This story is founded on a packet of worm-eaten letters and documents +found in an old French-Canadian house on the banks of the St. Lawrence. +The romance they rudely outline, its intrigues, its brilliancy of +surroundings, its intensity of feelings, when given the necessary +touches of history and imagination, so fascinated the writer that the +result was the present book. A packet of documents of course is not a +novel, and the reader may be able to guess what is mine and what is +likely to have been the scanty limit of the original hint.</p> + +<p>The student of history will recognise my debt to many authorities; among +whom the chief are Paul Lacroix and Taine. I wish it distinctly +understood that the person attacked in the documents in question is not +the hero of this narrative.</p> + +<p class="r">W. D. L.<br /> +</p> + + +<h2 style="margin-top:20%;">THE FALSE CHEVALIER</h2> + +<p class="c">——</p> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER I</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE FUR-TRADER'S SON</p> + + +<p>The son of the merchant Lecour was a handsome youth, and there was great +joy in the family at his coming home to St. Elphège. For he was going to +France on the morrow; it was with that object that his father had sent +to town for him—the little walled town of Montreal.</p> + +<p>It was evening, early in May, of the year 1786. According to an old +custom of the French-Canadians, the merchant, surrounded by his family, +was bestowing upon his son the paternal blessing. It was a touching +sight—the patriarchal ceremony of benediction.</p> + +<p>The father was a fine type of the peasant. His features might, in the +strong chiaroscuro of the candle-light, have stood as model for some +church fresco of a St. Peter. His dress was of grey country homespun, +cut in a long coat, and girded by a many-coloured arrow-pattern sash, +and on his feet he wore a pair of well-worn beef-skin mocassins.</p> + +<p>The son was some twenty years of age, and his mien and dress told of the +better social advantages of the town. Indeed, his costume, though +somewhat worn, had marks of good fashion.</p> + +<p>His younger sister (for he had two, of whom one was absent), and his +mother, a lively, black-eyed woman, who dressed and bore herself +ambitiously for her station, gazed on him in fond pride as he knelt.</p> + +<p>"My son," the merchant said reverently, his hands outstretched over his +boy, "the Almighty keep and guard thee; may the blessing of thy father +and thy mother follow thee wherever thou goest."</p> + +<p>"Amen," the son responded.</p> + +<p>He rose and stood before his parent with bent head.</p> + +<p>The old man exhorted him gravely on the dangers before him—on the +ruffians and lures of Paris, and the excitements of youth. He warned him +to attend to his religious duties, and to do credit to his family and +their condition in life by respectful and irreproachable conduct. "Never +forget," he concluded, in words which the young man remembered in after +years, "that the Eternal Justice follows us everywhere, and calls us to +exact account, either on earth or in the after life, for all our acts."</p> + +<p>But here Lecour's solemn tone ceased, and he continued—"Now, Germain, I +must explain to you more closely the business on which I have sent for +you so suddenly. The North-West Company, who, as you know, command the +fur-trade of Canada, have word that a new fashion just introduced into +Paris has doubled the demand for beaver and tripled the price. They are +hurrying over all their skins by their ship which sails in ten days to +London from Quebec. I have space on a vessel which goes direct to Dieppe +the day after to-morrow, and can therefore forestall them by about two +weeks. I have gathered my winter stock into the boats you will see at +our landing; and your mother, who has always been so eager to send you +to France, has persuaded me to have you as my supercargo. Go, my boy; it +is a great opportunity to see the world."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my Germain, at last," wife Lecour exclaimed joyfully, throwing her +arms around his neck, "at last you will set eyes on Versailles, and my +dreams about you will come true!"</p> + +<p>The youth himself was in a daze of smiles and tears.</p> + +<p>The chamber in which they were was the living-room of the house. Its low +ceiling of heavy beams, its spotlessly sanded floor, carpeted with +striped <i>catalogne</i>, its pine table, and home-made chairs of elm, were +common sights in the country. But a tall, brass-faced London clock in +one corner, a cupboard fuller than usual of blue-pattern stone-ware in +another, a large copper-plate of the "Descent from the Cross," and an +ebony and ivory crucifix on the walls, were indications of more than +average prosperity.</p> + +<p>So thin was population throughout Canada in those days that to leave the +banks of the St. Lawrence almost anywhere was to leave human habitation. +The hamlet of St. Elphège was part of the half-wild parish of +Répentigny. The cause of its existence was its position some miles up +the Assumption, as a gateway of many smaller rivers tributary to the +latter, which itself was tributary to the River of Jesus; and that in +turn, less than a mile further on, to the vast St Lawrence. It +flourished on the trade of wandering tribes from up the Achigan, the +Lac-Ouareau, the St Esprit, and the Rouge, and on the sale of supplies +to rude settlers above and the farmers below. It flourished by the +energy of one man—this man, its founder, the Merchant Lecour. He had +started life with small prospects; his ideas were of the simplest, and +he was at first even a complete stranger to writing and figures. In his +youth a common soldier in the levies of the Marquis de Montcalm on the +campaigns towards lake Champlain, he had acquired favour with his +colonel by his steadiness, had been given charge of a canteen, and in +dispensing brandy to his comrades had found it possible to sell a few +small articles. The defence of New France against the British collapsed +on the investiture of Montreal by Sir Jeffrey Amherst in 1760. The +French army surrendered, and part of it was shipped back to the +motherland. Lecour remained, and shouldering a pedlar's pack, plodded +about the country selling red handkerchiefs, sashes, and jack-knives to +the peasantry. Being attracted by the convenience of the portage for +dealings with the Indians of the north, he selected a spot in the forest +and built a little log dwelling. Success followed from the first. +Beaver-skins rose into fabulous demand in Europe for cocked hats, and +made the fortunes of all who supplied them. The streams behind Lecour's +post were teeming with beaver-dams. He easily kept his monopoly of the +trade, and several times a year would send a fleet of boats down to +Quebec, which returned with goods imported from Europe. Finally he +extended his dealings throughout the Province into varied branches of +business, and "the Merchant of St. Elphège" became a household name with +the French-Canadians. The home of the Lecours—half dwelling, half +vaulted warehouse—was one of four capacious provincial stone cottage +buildings, standing about a quadrangular yard, each bearing high up on +its peak a date and brief inscription, one of which read "À Dieu la +Gloire!"—"To God the Glory."</p> + +<p>Just at the end of the family scene previously described, a noise was +heard without, the latch was lifted, and a troop of Lecour's neighbours +and dependants pushed in, an old fiddler at their head, who, clattering +forward in <i>sabots</i>, removed his blue <i>tuque</i> from his head, and +politely bowed to Lecour.</p> + +<p>"Father," he said, "these young people ask your permission to give a +dance in honour of Monsieur Germain."</p> + +<p>The Lecours appreciated the honour; the room was cleared, music struck +up, and festivity was soon in progress. What a display of neat ankles +and deft feet in mocassins! What a clattering of <i>sabots</i> and shuffling +of "beefs"! The perspiration rolled off the brow of the musician, and +young Lecour was whirling round like a madcap with the daughter of the +ferryman of Répentigny, when the latch was again lifted, and the door +silently opened.</p> + +<p>Every woman set up a shriek. The threshold was crowded with Indians in +warpaint!</p> + +<p>All the settlers knew that paint and its dangers.</p> + +<p>The dancers drew back to one side of the room, and some opened the door +of the warehouse adjoining and took refuge in its vaulted shadows. But +Lecour himself, the former soldier, was no man to tremble. "Come in," he +said, without betraying a trace of any feeling.</p> + +<p>Seven chiefs stalked grimly across the floor in single file, carrying +their tomahawks and knives in their hands, their great silver treaty +medals hanging from their necks, and their brightly dyed eagle feathers +quivering above their heads, and six sat down opposite Lecour on the +floor. Their leader, Atotarho, Grand Chief of Oka, stood erect and +silent, an expression of warlike fierceness on his face.</p> + +<p>"Atotarho!" exclaimed the merchant.</p> + +<p>"It is I," the Grand Chief answered. "Where is the young man?"</p> + +<p>"Here," replied Germain, stepping forward with a sangfroid which pleased +his father. He faced the powerful Indian.</p> + +<p>Atotarho shook his tomahawk towards the ceiling, uttered a piercing +war-whoop, and commenced to execute the war-dance, chanting this song in +his native Six-Nation tongue—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="ind">"Our forefathers made the rule and said: 'Here they are to kindle a +fire; here at the edge of the woods.'"</p></div> + +<p>One of the chiefs drummed on a small tom-tom. The chant continued—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="ind">"Show me the man!</p> + +<p class="ind">"Hail, my grandsires; now hearken while your grand-children cry +unto you, you who established the Great League. Come back, ye +warriors, and help us.</p> + +<p class="ind">"Come back, ye warriors, and sit about our Council. Lend us your +magic tomahawks. Lend us your arrows of flint. Lend us your knives +of jade. I am the Great Chief, but ye are greater chiefs than I.</p> + +<p class="ind">"Of old time the nations wandered and warred.</p> + +<p class="ind">"Ye were wonderful who established the Great Peace.</p> + +<p class="ind">"Assuredly six generations before the pale-faces appeared, ye +smoked the redstone pipe together, giving white wampum to show that +war would cease.</p> + +<p class="ind">"Thenceforth ye bound the nations with a Silver Chain; ye built the +Long House; ye established the Great League.</p> + +<p class="ind">"First Hiawatha of the Onondaga nation proposed it; then +Dekanawidah of the Mohawks joined him; then Atotarho, my mighty +ancestor.</p> + +<p class="ind">"First the Mohawks; then their younger brothers, the Oneidas, +joined them; then the Cayugas; then the Onondagas, then the +Senecas; and then the Tuscaroras were added. Victorious were the +<span class="smcap">Six Nations</span>!"</p></div> + +<p>With a piercing cry of triumph the chiefs sprang up and brandished their +tomahawks.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="ind">"Then we took the sons of the Wyandots, the Eries, the Algonquins. +Wherever we found the son of a brave man we adopted him. Wherever +we found a brave man we made him a chief.</p> + +<p class="ind">"Here is the son of a brave man, our friend. Let us adopt him. Be +ye his grandsires, oh ye chiefs of old!</p> + +<p class="ind">"He is a brave man; let us make him a chief. Our forefathers said: +'Thither shall he be led by the hand, and shall be placed on the +principal seat.'</p> + +<p class="ind">"Smoke the peace-pipe with us, chiefs of old, Hiawatha, +Dekanawidah, Atotarho, us who bear your names, to-day, being +descended of your blood through the line of the mother."</p> + +<p class="ind">"Brighten the Silver Chain, extend the Long House, smoke the magic +pipe, sharpen his tomahawk, for he is a son of your League, and +shall sit with you in the Council for ever, bearing the name of +Arahseh, 'Our Cousin,' and the totem of the Wolf.</p> + +<p class="ind">"Smoke the peace-pipe, Arahseh, 'Our Cousin.'"</p></div> + +<p>The tom-tom beat furiously and the six chiefs leaping up and circling +round Germain, struck the air with their tomahawks and cried together—</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"Continue to listen</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Ye who are braves;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Ye who established the Great League,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Continue to listen."</span><br /><br /> +</p> + +<p>They gave the peace-pipe to Germain, and again seating themselves in +semicircle, gravely passed it from lip to lip.</p> + +<p>Gradually the settlers during these rites began to learn by those who +understood Iroquois, the friendly nature of the fierce-looking actions +of the savages and gazed with delight while the merchant's son was made +a chief.</p> + +<p>Thus out of a semi-savage corner of the world Germain Lecour was +launched on his voyage to Europe, which commenced at the head of the +boats of his father next morning when the dawn first carmined the sky +through the forests.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER II</a></h3> + +<p class="c">GERMAIN IN FRANCE</p> + + +<p>Along the highway through the ancient Forest of Fontainebleau, the coach +of the Chevalier de Bailleul, carven and gilt in elegant forms of the +reign of Louis XVI., and driven with the spirit that belonged to the +service of a grand seigneur, sped forward.</p> + +<p>Within, the frank old soldier sat, fresh from the royal hunt at the +Palace; and on his breast coruscated the crimson heart and white rays of +the Great Star of St. Louis, the reward of distinguished service.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the horses wheeled round and stopped to drink at a small +stream, which gushed into a natural basin by the roadside. A mounted +young man was about to water his animal at the basin, but noticing the +equipage stopping, he backed out and gave up his place, at the same time +raising his hat.</p> + +<p>The Chevalier never ignored a politeness. Laying his hand on the window +frame he saluted the rider, and it was in this glance that his eye +caught sight of the sword-strap of the rapier at the rider's side. +For—strangely out of place in that longitude—this was a piece of +snow-white fawn-skin; embroidered in fantastic colours, woven with +porcupine quills; and adorned with a clan totem, known only in the +region of the River St. Lawrence.</p> + +<p>He looked up promptly to the bearer's face. So bright was the expression +of the youth, so fine was his make, so lissome his seat on his chafing +horse, that the old man thought he had never seen a picture more martial +or handsome. A portrait of the rider would have represented a +countenance full of intelligence, a manly bearing, dark eyes, hair jet +black, and the complexion clear. He wore a dark red coat and a black hat +bordered with silver.</p> + +<p>De Bailleul spoke.</p> + +<p>"May I ask," said he, with the charming manners of the courtier, +"Monsieur's name and country, so that I may link them with the service +just done me?"</p> + +<p>"The trifle merits no notice, sir," the youth answered respectfully. "My +name is Germain Lecour, of Répentigny, in Canada."</p> + +<p>"Canada!" exclaimed the Chevalier warmly. "This is good fortune, indeed. +It was my lot to have once done service for the king in that country, +since which time every Canadian is my brother. And you live in +Répentigny? That is near Montreal?"</p> + +<p>"Eight leagues below, on the River of L'Assomption, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Nearly thirty years ago I left your land. To hear fresh news of it +would give me the greatest satisfaction of my life. Are you at one of +the inns here at Fontainebleau? Yes? Let me offer you the shelter of my +house, Eaux Tranquilles, which is less that a league forward. My name is +the Chevalier de Bailleul, sir. If you permit it I shall send +immediately for your luggage."</p> + +<p>The horseman, blushing, protested that the honour was too great.</p> + +<p>"The honour and favour are to me," replied the Chevalier.</p> + +<p>Lecour gave in with visible joy and named his inn. The two lifted their +hats and parted with the profoundest bows. The Chevalier, as his +carriage once more sped forward, found himself no less pleased than the +other. The embroidered sword-strap and overshadowing trees conjure up +for him an hour of the past where he, a young lieutenant, is leading a +little column of white-coats through a forest defile in America. The +Indian scouts suddenly come gliding in, the fire of an enemy is heard, +little spots of smoke burst on the mountain side and dissolve again. +Shrill yells resound on every hand, brown arms brandish flashes of +brightness. The young commander rises to the emergency. His white-coats +are rapidly placed in position behind trees, and a battle is +proceeding.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER III</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE INNKEEPER'S LESSON</p> + + +<p>The chief inn of Fontainebleau town was a rambling galleried quadrangle +of semi-deserted buildings situated on the Rue Basse, and bearing the +sign of "The Holy Ghost."</p> + +<p>This town, in the heart of the woods, had no other sources of livelihood +than a vegetable market for the Palace, the small wants of the +wooden-shoed foresters and of the workmen employed by the Master of +Woods and Waters in planting new trees, and those of the crowd of +strangers who flocked to the place during five or six weeks in the +autumn of each year, when the king and Court arrived for the pleasures +of the hunt.</p> + +<p>The host of the inn—formerly an assistant butler in Madame du Barry's +hotel at Versailles, was a sharp, sour-natured old fellow, truculent and +avaricious. The spine of this man was a sort of social barometer; by its +exact degree of curvature or stiffness in the presence of a guest the +stable-boys and housemaids knew whether his rank was great or small, and +whether, to please their cantankerous master, they were to fly or walk +at his beck, or in the case of a mere bourgeois, to drink his wine on +the way to his room.</p> + +<p>Germain, on first arriving a few days previously, found himself in an +atmosphere of Oriental abjectness; for when the Rouen diligence drove +through the inn gateway, and mine host at his pot-room window remarked +his smart belongings, his landlord soul settled him as a person of +quality. But when the innkeeper had thought it out for an hour over his +wine, his attitude became one of doubt.</p> + +<p>"No valet, no people," he muttered, "this fish then is no noble, and +yet, by his mien, no bourgeois. Luggage scanty, dress fine. What is he? +Gambler of Paris? Swiss? Italian? No, he speaks French, but without the +Court accent. By that he is none of <i>our</i> people—that is one point +fixed. A prodigal son, then? Parbleu, I must make him pay in advance."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the landlord, knocking at the door of Germain's room, and +then stepping in rather freely, "I regret to tell you that it is the +rule in Fontainebleau for travellers to pay in advance."</p> + +<p>"How much?" replied Germain, pulling out a purse full of pistoles.</p> + +<p>The rascal was taken aback.</p> + +<p>"I was about to say," said he, retreating, "that though such is the +rule, I am making of your honour an exception."</p> + +<p>And he disappeared to further correct his speculations upon the visitor. +"Some little spendthrift of the provinces, I wager," was his next +conclusion. He instructed the senior stable-boy to go in and light three +candles, and chalked up the guest for nine. He also began to concoct his +bill. The household thenceforth took small liberties with Lecour's +orders.</p> + +<p>Next day the landlord, when Monsieur was about to mount the handsomest +horse which could be hired in the town, again quitted his post of +observation at the pot-room window and advanced. He knew the animal and +its saddlery; his suave smile reappeared, and his back bent a little as +he noticed with the eye of an expert Germain's ease in his seat.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur desires to see the Court, no doubt? He knows, perhaps, that it +does not arrive till Thursday?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed. Tell me about the doings of the Court. I have never heard about +it."</p> + +<p>A triumphant, hard expression came over Boniface's visage. He looked up +at his guest, straightened himself, turned his back, and went into the +house.</p> + +<p>"What," he muttered, "I, the entertainer of counts of twenty quarterings +and the neighbour of a king—am I to have a plebeian in my house so +peasant that he ignores the topic of <i>all</i> society? He shall feel that +he does not impose on Fontainebleau."</p> + +<p>Germain's apartment, situated in front of the house, consisted of two +rooms fitted up with some elegance, and both looking out upon the +market-place and church. He was now told that these quarters were +engaged by "persons of quality to whom Monsieur would doubtless give +place in the usual manner." He submitted without protest, and accepted +uncomplainingly the inferior chamber assigned to him on the courtyard in +the rear.</p> + +<p>The little town shortly began to fill with liveliness and tradesmen. A +fine carriage drove up before the inn, its horses ridden by postillions, +and followed by two mounted grooms. Three young noblemen, brothers, of +an exceedingly handsome type, alighted. The keeper of the "Holy Ghost" +and his two rows of servants grovelled before them in a body and +conducted them to the best suites within, including that taken from +Germain.</p> + +<p>It was next morning that the latter met de Bailleul.</p> + +<p>His host now placed the final insult upon him. At dinner he motioned him +roughly to sit at the table of the rustics.</p> + +<p>Germain refused; he was paying for better.</p> + +<p>The landlord angrily resisted. The Canadian, now aroused, for he saw at +last the intention to slight him, stopped, laid his hand significantly +on the hilt of his sword, and looked at the man. That motion in those +days had but one meaning. He was let alone.</p> + +<p>Within an hour the coach of the Chevalier drove in for him and his +baggage. The sycophant recognised the arms on the panel and collapsed. +Yet that hour's reflection on the innkeeper's conduct woke Lecour to the +power of rank in old Europe.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER IV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE CASTLE OF QUIET WATERS</p> + + +<p>Having added to his toilet the special elegance of powdering his hair, +arrayed himself in his finest flowered waistcoat, and critically +disposed his laces, Germain took seat in de Bailleul's coach and was +driven away.</p> + +<p>As the horses flew along another new feeling came to him. The +distinction of a familiar visit with a real "great lord" elated him as +<i>débutantes</i> are elated by their first ball. He was no snob, only a very +natural young man entering life. He dreamt that he was transferred from +the ignoble class to the noble, and in the fancy felt himself lifted to +some inconceivable level above the people who passed by. Half a dozen +peasants, bronzed and sweaty and trudging in a group, meeting him, took +off their hats. One of them said in his hearing: "Baptiste, there is one +of the white-wigs."</p> + +<p>The carriage rolled through the forest, then out into the open country, +and shortly after turned under a stately gate of gilded ironwork, and +the grounds of Eaux Tranquilles were entered. The château was a mansion +of smooth, light sandstone, having four towers at the corners. A +turreted side-wing, bridging over water, united it with a more ancient +castle which stood, walled in white and capped in black, in the midst of +a small lake. In front were gardens; in rear a terrace, and below it a +lawn bordered on one side by the lake, on the opposite shore of which a +park of poplars, birches, and elms extended, producing, by shading the +water, a serenity which doubtless had given the estate its name.</p> + +<p>The last light of afternoon, that most beautiful of all lights, fell +upon the towers, and long shadows swept across the gardens.</p> + +<p>Lecour thought it glorious.</p> + +<p>In a few moments he and his host were seated at tea. The lofty +window-doors stood open to let in the June zephyrs. With the two wigged +and liveried servants attending, the scene to Lecour seemed the acting +of a beautiful charade, the introduction to an unreal existence.</p> + +<p>De Bailleul noted the delicacy of his hand and the tastefulness of his +violet-tinted coat.</p> + +<p>"Let us talk of Canada," said he. "I have no friends yet to offer you, +though you shall have some young dogs like yourself very soon. What do +you like?—riding, hunting, a quiet minuet on the terrace, eh? Ah me, +the coquettes of Quebec! I well remember them."</p> + +<p>Germain expressed gratitude for the amusements offered.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you why I love Canada," continued the Chevalier. "It was +there that I passed my military youth. Have you ever eaten Indian +bean-cake?"</p> + +<p>"I have tasted it."</p> + +<p>"And that was enough, eh? But I have lived on it for eight weeks in an +Iroquois village. Yes, eight weeks bean-cake was the most horrible of my +experiences, except when I saw the hand of an unfortunate Potawatomie +turn up in an Abenaki broth-pot. Do you remember General Montcalm?"</p> + +<p>"I was not born in his time."</p> + +<p>"I saw him die, and heard him refuse to let the women of Quebec weep +for him. Montcalm, sir, was the last hero of France. They glorify +Lafayette, but between ourselves Lafayette is more the drum-major than +the general."</p> + +<p>"The lost children of France do not forget the defender of Quebec."</p> + +<p>"But who now passes from there to here? The <i>noblesse</i> of the colony +sank embracing each other on the luckless ship <i>Auguste</i> in which they +fled to France. Alas, my friends so brave and so lovely! Ah, Varennes +and La Vérandrye, and you my poor Lady de Mezière! Senneville also, my +dearest friend," he murmured, speaking to the spirits. "La Corne alone +escaped. Pardon me, Monsieur. Who is now Seigneur of Berthier?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Cuthbert."</p> + +<p>"In place of the Courthillaux! And of Répentigny?"</p> + +<p>"General Christie."</p> + +<p>"In place of Le Gardeurs! And of Longueuil?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Grant."</p> + +<p>"In the stead of the Le Moynes!"</p> + +<p>"He married one of them and calls himself Baron de Longueuil."</p> + +<p>"An Englishman Baron of Longueuil! Shades of Le Moyne d'Iberville! And +what of La Corne, who used to put on warpaint and dance around the +council fires waving a tomahawk against the English?"</p> + +<p>"Good old Colonel La Corne! He is now a loyal subject of the king of +Great Britain, and very distinguished in the late American war."</p> + +<p>"My God, what impossibilities within thirty years!"</p> + +<p>Lecour, finding that the Chevalier was eager for a general account of +all Canadian beaux and dames, did his best to respond. De Bailleul's cup +ran over.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," he exclaimed, "I have never met any people like the +Canadians. When Montcalm was general, I commanded a certain detachment +towards Lake Champlain. Through how many leagues of forest, over how +many cedar swamps and rocky hills, across how many icy torrents did my +bronzed woodmen not toil! We made beds from boughs of spruce, our walls +were the forest, our roofs were the skies. Many a day we fasted the +twenty-four hours. More than once we ate our mocassins. 'Twas all for +France. Ah, if our young men at Versailles had that to do, they would +have to be different persons. I have no respect for these warriors of +hair-powder and lace, who wear stays and learn to march from the +dancing-master. Give me a people bred in the lap of wild nature and +among whom the paths to reputation are courage and intelligence! Give +me——"</p> + +<p>Lecour saw that the Canada of the good man was an idealised picture, but +he admired his affection and asked permission to drink his health. They +touched glasses.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about your own people, my young friend. Who is your father?"</p> + +<p>"A country merchant, sir."</p> + +<p>"A well-to-do one, then, I judge."</p> + +<p>"He has prospered so well as to be reputed rich for a colony."</p> + +<p>"And you live at St. Elphège? In my time it was only a carrying-place +for canoes, to avoid the rapid."</p> + +<p>"My father is the founder of the little place. He is known throughout +our Province as 'The Merchant of St. Elphège.'"</p> + +<p>"An honourable title, based on an honourable record no doubt. Would that +we rightly respected trade in France. That is one of the nation's +weaknesses. You have a mother and brothers?"</p> + +<p>"A mother and two sisters—one married, the other at a convent in +Quebec. My brother-in-law assists my father. We are very humble people."</p> + +<p>"Why have you come to France?"</p> + +<p>"Because I have admired it since a child, from my mother's stories at +her knee."</p> + +<p>"She came from France, then?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, but she was housekeeper in the house of Governor the Marquis +de Beauharnois."</p> + +<p>When he said this the youth blushed.</p> + +<p>"How is it your accent is so good? It is quite that of our gentry."</p> + +<p>"I learnt it at the Little Seminary, from the priests, who are gentlemen +of Paris. There also the best families send their boys, and we young men +grew up together. I have lived a little in Montreal too."</p> + +<p>"Ah, what is Montreal now like? Are the town walls still standing?"</p> + +<p>"They surround the city, but the commander-in-chief talks of replacing +them by avenues and a Champ de Mars."</p> + +<p>"The British garrison of course occupies the Arsenal, the British flag +flies from the Citadel. Where does the British Governor reside?"</p> + +<p>"At the Château de Ramezay."</p> + +<p>"But why not at the Château de Vaudreuil, where Governor de Vaudreuil +dwelt? It was larger and its gardens finer."</p> + +<p>"That now belongs to Monsieur de Lotbinière."</p> + +<p>"De Lotbinière! the new Marquis! Lucky devil; but blue death, what +changes!"</p> + +<p>They rose and strayed into the gardens.</p> + +<p>"I seem to find in you already," said the warm-hearted old Chevalier, +"one whom I love. There is something frank in your eyes which raises +memories of my dead son. In you I see both my offspring's and my own +youth recalled to me. You are Canadian—in you I can banish the +coldness, hollowness, and degeneracy of Europe. Replace my boy. Let me +call you 'Germain' and 'son.'"</p> + +<p>The bar of evening glow was fading in the west and twilight falling on +the walks. A chill breeze seemed to inspire a question, which Germain +began.</p> + +<p>"But——?"</p> + +<p>"There is some hindrance then?" exclaimed the Chevalier in a +disappointed voice.</p> + +<p>"Alas, does your honour, perhaps, forget the differences of birth?"</p> + +<p>"Differences of birth, my Germain, are illusions; you have the reality."</p> + +<p>"Would that I had the illusion," thought poor Lecour.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER V</a></h3> + +<p class="c">MONSIEUR DE RÉPENTIGNY</p> + + +<p>For several days he revelled in exploring Eaux Tranquilles. He became +familiar with the paths of the gardens, the different statues and +fountains. Sweet odours continually seemed to fill his breathing. He sat +dreaming in the trellised vineries, or wandered with his host along the +walks overhung by carefully trimmed shade-trees. Sometimes he would +ramble in the park, which occupied about a mile of hill across the mere; +sometimes he strolled curiously about in the old castle, along devious +passages and from chamber to chamber, wondering at its heavily +tapestried walls, its gloomy dungeons with the water lapping just +beneath, its small windows painted with little coats of arms, and its +walls ten feet thick.</p> + +<p>One of his strong recommendations in the eyes of de Bailleul was that he +knew a fine horse and how to ride him. The Chevalier, being lord of a +large extent of country, and a very conscientious man who sympathised +energetically with the broad-minded schemes of the Duke de la +Rochefoucauld for bettering the peasants, they did much visiting of +curés and cottagers.</p> + +<p>"Parsangbleu," he exclaimed to Germain. "What is more simple than that +every one of the people is a man like any of the rest of us."</p> + +<p>That was then new doctrine to society.</p> + +<p>Just when they were starting off one day together, the Chevalier's groom +handed him a note.</p> + +<p>While they cantered outward he perused it and commented.</p> + +<p>"Our visitors arrive from the Palace this afternoon. One is my very +amiable friend, the Prince de Poix, of the family of the Noailles, +colonel of bodyguards to his Majesty. With him of course comes his +Princess. Make yourself agreeable to her, Germain, which is very easily +done. She is the key of the situation for you. In her charge will be +some ladies. Don't be afraid of the crinoline, my boy. There will also +be some officers of the Prince's command, the Noailles company, namely, +Baron de Grancey, Viscount Aymer d'Estaing, the Count de Bellecour, the +Marquis d'Amoreau, and the Chevalier de Blair. They lead a famous corps, +for every private in the bodyguard is a noble, and has the rank of +captain. They have come to Fontainebleau with the hunt."</p> + +<p>The news brought Germain a shock. Since his experiences at the "Holy +Ghost" he had progressively arrived at the conviction that the only +parallel to the distinction of caste between the hereditary gentry and +all other persons as then drawn in France was the distinction between +the heavens above and the earth beneath; the distance between was +considered simply immeasurable and impassable except by the +transmigration of souls. We cannot understand the extent of it in our +day. No aristocrat is now so blind, no plebeian so humble, as to +sincerely believe the doctrine. But in that age France was steeped in +it. High refinement of manners had grown to really differentiate the +Court from the masses, and the members of the governing order were +jealous of the privileges of their circle to a degree which has no +parallel now. To be suspected of being a farmer or a merchant, no +matter how cultivated or wealthy, was to be written "ignoble." The +higher <i>noblesse</i>, making up in their own society, by the acquisitions +of descent and leisure, a delightful sphere of all that was most +fascinating in art, music, dress, and blazonry, as well as power and +fame, moved as very gods, flattered with the tenet that other classes +were an inferior species actually made out of a different clay. +Genealogy and heraldry formed a great part of education. The members of +the privileged families all wore territorial titles as their badge. The +most beggarly individual who wore the sword claimed precedence of the +most substantial citizen. Whatever name was plain, to them was base.</p> + +<p>Now Germain's name was plain, and he knew his class was held by these +people as base. His Elysian gardens, thought he, were about to be +snatched away.</p> + +<p>About two o'clock in the day he saw with beating heart a courier gallop +up to the staircase of the main entrance, dismount, and wait.</p> + +<p>The Chevalier's <i>maître d'hôtel</i> hastily caused the doors to be thrown +wide open, and the hall swarmed full of servants. De Bailleul, donning +his Grand Cross of St. Louis, placed Germain at his side, and stood at +the foot of the steps.</p> + +<p>The Princess arrived in a sedan-chair at the head of a procession of +carriages, the first of which contained her chief servants and an abbé, +who was her reader; those following held her husband and the other +guests.</p> + +<p>Germain blanched when he saw the latter descend. They wore that bearing +which marked their class, and the dress of each seemed to him like the +petals of some rich flower. The Canadian youth looked at them, +fascinated. At his age the soul watches eagerly from its tower (what is +a man but the tower of a soul?); each new turn of the kaleidoscope, +each new figure crossing the landscape, is bathed in the rosy glow of +morning. Yet he thought of them with a sense of imprisonment and +sadness.</p> + +<p>"I have not known till now what I desire; alas! I am nothing."</p> + +<p>The Chevalier assisted the Princess to alight, and, kissing her hand, +turned and said—</p> + +<p>"Permit me, Madame, to present to your Excellency Monsieur Lecour, of +Répentigny, in Canada."</p> + +<p>This was the crucial moment in the history of the merchant's son. As he +heard his name uttered the thought rushed into his mind how baldly and +badly it sounded. There was a second of suspense, soon over. The great +lady, arrayed in all the mountainous spread and shimmering magnificence +of the Court costume, glanced at him with formal smile and impassive +face, drew back, and made the <i>grande révérence</i> of the woman of high +society. He noted it breathlessly, and as he returned it, full of +quick-summoned grace and courage, he heard an inner music beginning to +sound, loud, triumphant, and strange. He became seized of a new-found +confidence that he could sustain his part. Every small doing now +appeared of importance. The five Life Guards stood near. De Bailleul +introduced Germain to Baron de Grancey and went away. Grancey, not +having caught the Canadian's name, amiably asked Germain to repeat it.</p> + +<p>He stopped, blushed, and faltered—</p> + +<p>"Germain—Lecour——"</p> + +<p>"De?" the Baron asked, supposing as a matter of course that a +territorial title was to follow.</p> + +<p>Lecour, in his confusion taking the requested "de" to mean merely +"from," proceeded to utter four fatal words—</p> + +<p>"De Répentigny en Canada."</p> + +<p>The Baron turned to his nearest companion, and again the formula of +introduction fell on Germain's ear—</p> + +<p>"Chevalier de Blair, I have the honour of presenting you to <i>Monsieur de +Répentigny</i>."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I have the honour of saluting you," said de Blair.</p> + +<p>Before Germain could collect his ideas he had bowed to each of the other +Guards under the name "de Répentigny."</p> + +<p>It cannot be said that, once he had recovered his self-possession after +his narrow escape from being announced as a plebeian, any great qualms +for the present overtook him. He reasoned that the title just attributed +to him was not the result of his own seeking. Though destined to bring +on all the serious consequences which form the matter of this story and +to change a lighthearted young man into a desperate adventurer, it came +in the aspect of a petty accident, which but facilitated his reception +at the hands of the companions who crowded around him.</p> + +<p>"Have I not seen you at Court? Were you not presented six months ago in +the Oeil de Boeuf?" inquired de Blair.</p> + +<p>"I am only a provincial," he answered. "I know nothing of the Court."</p> + +<p>"When I first came from Dauphiny up to Versailles," laughed the Count de +Bellecour, "I spoke such a <i>patois</i> they thought I was a horse."</p> + +<p>"You come from Canada? Tell us about the Revolution in the English +colonies. It is not a new affair, but we army men are always talking +about it."</p> + +<p>Germain ventured on an epigram.</p> + +<p>"That was simple; it was the coming of age of a continent."</p> + +<p>"A war of liberty against oppression?"</p> + +<p>"Rather, gentlemen, a war of human nature against human nature. We had +experience of the armies of both sides in our Province."</p> + +<p>"Would I had been there with Lafayette!" another Guardsman cried.</p> + +<p>"You, d'Estaing!" exclaimed Grancey. "You would cry if an Englishman +spoiled your ruffles!"</p> + +<p>"Sir, my second shall visit you this evening!"</p> + +<p>"Pray, you twin imitations of Modesty-in-Person, let us have a real +tragediette in steel and blood," put in d'Amoreau, the fifth Life Guard.</p> + +<p>D'Estaing and Grancey, drawing swords, lunged at each other. D'Amoreau +and the Count de Bellecour each ran behind one of them and acted as a +second, the Chevalier de Blair standing umpire, when the Abbé, the +Princess's reader, entered. The blades were thrust, mock respectfully, +back into their scabbards, and they all bowed low to the ecclesiastic.</p> + +<p>A short, spare man of thirty with a cadaverous face, whose sharp, +lustreless black eyes, thin projecting nose, and mouth like a sardonic +mere line, combined with a jesuitical downwardness of look, made one +feel uneasy—such was the Abbé Jude as he appeared to Germain's brief +first glance.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, gentlemen; one less of you would not be missed," he +retorted to their obeisance.</p> + +<p>"You would like a death-mass fee, Abbé?"</p> + +<p>The Canadian, brought up to other customs, wondered how a priest could +be addressed with such contempt by good Catholics.</p> + +<p>"Is he a monk or a curé?" he inquired, when the reader had passed on.</p> + +<p>"He is nothing," answered d'Estaing, with clear eye and scornful lip. +"Paris is devastated by fellows calling themselves abbés. They have no +connection with the Church, except a hole in the top of their wigs. This +fellow is Jude, the Princess's parasite."</p> + +<p>To Germain the Guardsmen made themselves very agreeable. The manners of +the Canadian attracted men who held that the highest human quality after +rank was to be amiable. The Baron took him violently into his heart. He +was a large, well-made fellow of a certain grand kindliness of bearing, +and wore his natural hair, which was golden. The rich-laced blue silk +tunic of the Bodyguard shone on his shoulders in ample spaces, and he +well set off the deep red facings, the gold stripes, big sleeves, and +elegant sword, the coveted uniform, loved of the loveliest and proudest +of Versailles.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER VI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">EPERGNES AND WAX-LIGHTS</p> + + +<p>Dinner took place at four, with the windows darkened. At the right and +left of the host respectively were the Prince and Princess de Poix. +Germain presided at the foot of the table, having on his right a +Canoness and on his left a young lady to be described presently. As his +glances passed down the two rows of guests he thought he could never +have imagined a more perfect scene of its kind. He was dazed and +intoxicated.</p> + +<p>A soft but bright radiance was shed by a host of starry wax-lights in +the chandeliers above. An indescribable air of distinction marked every +face. Numerous servants moved about noiselessly, and the musicians of +the château, placed in a recess, played upon violins and a harpsichord. +The table was a fairy sight. Flowers, silver statuettes, and candelabra, +were placed at intervals down the middle. Between and around these a +miniature landscape, representing winter, was extended, with little +snowy-roofed temples, an ice-bound stream, bridges, columns, trees and +shrubbery, all dusted with hoar frost. The company uttered exclamations +of delight at the ingenuity of the idea.</p> + +<p>There was particular pleasure in eyes of the lady who sat at Lecour's +left, the Baroness de la Roche Vernay. She was one of those startlingly +beautiful beings whom one meets only once in a lifetime. Less than +eighteen, and fragile-looking at first glance, Nature had given her an +erectness and grace and a slender, unconscious symmetry which, +characterising every feature, seemed to suggest the analogy of the +upward growth of a flower. The purity of innocence and truth lightened +her fair brow, at the same time that enjoyment of society shone from her +sparkling eyes. Her soft light hair was worn, not in the elaborate +manner of the ladies about her, but in the simplest fashion and with +merely a trace of powder. The most unusual and characteristic element in +her appearance was a white, translucent complexion with touches of +colour, and as she was also dressed in white, lightly embroidered with +gold, she seemed to Lecour, in the radiant, unreal wax-light, so +ethereal as to have just come from heaven. So vision-like and wonderful +to him was her beauty that he gasped when she turned to him to speak.</p> + +<p>"Your <i>chef</i> is a real Watteau, Monsieur—a marvel at design."</p> + +<p>"He doubtless dreamt what stars were to beam over his landscape, +Madame," he answered, for he had at least kept grip of his wits.</p> + +<p>"What stars, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"My lady's eyes, n'est-ce pas?" he answered.</p> + +<p>The stars thus eulogised brimmed with smiles and searched his face.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," said the Canoness, who was not quite so young, but very +pretty, "you should have applied that compliment to <i>all</i> of our eyes. I +am in the habit of pleading for the community, as we do in my convent."</p> + +<p>"None of these ladies, including yourself, Madame, have any need of +compliments, in my humble opinion."</p> + +<p>"You deserve a reward, sir. Our Chapter is giving some Arcadian +receptions, and you shall be one of the shepherds. We have absolute +idylls of white sheep in our garden, though we cannot go to the length, +of course, of wearing those old costumes of the nymphs and +shepherdesses. How entrancing those costumes were," she added with a +careless sigh.</p> + +<p>The Canoness was an extraordinary curiosity to him. She was <i>pétite</i> and +fair. Though a <i>réligieuse</i>, she wore crinoline and large paniers, and, +was elegantly furbelowed. The colours of her dress were mainly white and +gold, but a long light robe of black crape was thrown over her +shoulders, and the jewelled cross of an order ornamented her breast.</p> + +<p>"Did the ancient nymphs know any better?" cried Mademoiselle de +Richeval, who sat a couple of places further on. "Do you not believe +that if they lived to-day they would patronise our fashions?"</p> + +<p>"Know any better? Do you think they were unconscious that to carry a +crook is becoming to the arm? No, they were as careful of their crooks +as we of our rouges. What is <i>your</i> judgment, Monsieur de Répentigny?"</p> + +<p>"It is a Judgment of Paris you require," he exclaimed, "and I have not +been there yet."</p> + +<p>Cyrène de la Roche Vernay touched her lovely hand quickly upon the table +and turned to him with a delighted little laugh.</p> + +<p>"As for me, I shall be glad if these tiresome fine clothes are ever to +be banished," she murmured, twisting her wine-glass.</p> + +<p>"Baroness, you have been reading the wicked Rousseau and his 'Social +Contract,'" de Blair, who sat next to her, bantered.</p> + +<p>"It surely ought to cost something to be noble," pronounced the +Canoness, in whose convent every candidate was required to prove +sixteen quarterings of arms, and received the title of countess.</p> + +<p>"Permit me to agree with the Church," laughed Mademoiselle de Richeval; +"we women ought to be as elaborate as possible, so as to frighten away +all those who are not rich enough to marry."</p> + +<p>"I believe I could say, Miss," asserted d'Estaing, "that nevertheless +you yourself have brought to Fontainebleau at least twelve short dresses +and five pairs of low-heeled shoes."</p> + +<p>"More than that—a straw hat and aprons," Cyrène added mischievously, +casting a smile also at Germain.</p> + +<p>"Hold! hold!" de Blair cried. "This is certainly the revolution they say +is to come. We are returning rapidly to the State of Nature."</p> + +<p>"Do I hear a phrase of that man Rousseau, ladies?" the Princess called +over, nodding her head-dress. "When I was little he was presented to me +at the Prince de Conti's, and had no breeding. Is that not true, Abbé?"</p> + +<p>"You speak with your unvarying correctness, Madame la Princesse."</p> + +<p>"You hear the Abbé, ladies," she said languidly, sitting back again.</p> + +<p>D'Estaing, to change the subject, took up the name of the Prince de +Conti, and turning to the Canoness and Cyrène, told a story which he had +often heard of him.</p> + +<p>"Madame de Bouillon, being with the Prince, hinted that she would like a +miniature of her linnet set in a ring. The Prince offered to have it +made. His offer was accepted on condition that the miniature be set +plain, without jewels. Accordingly the miniature is placed in a simple +rim of gold. But to cover over the painting, a large diamond, cut very +thin, is set above it. Madame returned the diamond. The Prince had it +ground to powder, which he used to dry the ink of the note he wrote to +Madame on the subject."</p> + +<p>"There is a Prince!" cried Mademoiselle de Richeval.</p> + +<p>"By the way, Montgolfier has sent up a new balloon which has carried +four passengers," went on the volatile d'Estaing.</p> + +<p>"Who is this Montgolfier with his balloons?" the Princess asked +languidly. "Is he what the new coiffure is named after?"</p> + +<p>D'Estaing looked around a little significantly.</p> + +<p>"Precisely, Madame—the coiffure Montgolfier," Germain at once replied, +for he had looked into hat fashions lately.</p> + +<p>"Please describe it to me after dinner. All the world is speaking of +it."</p> + +<p>"To the devil with coiffures!" Grancey whispered to the Canoness, and +struck up a pæan of praise on the lean hound Aréthuse who led the hunt +the previous day.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I believe that dog is possessed of the devil," asserted +d'Estaing. "Did you notice her eyes flash when she sprang down the +hideous glen where we nearly broke our necks? The foresters once told me +about that place."</p> + +<p>"What about it?"</p> + +<p>"It is the glen of the Great Hunter. The courtiers of King Henry IV were +hunting in that part of the forest one day, when they heard a tremendous +horn, saw the stag turn, and a strange pack of dogs in full chase fly +after it across their path; and with the hounds they saw a hunter, +riding on a great black horse. They stopped and shouted at the intruder, +and searched about for him, when a gigantic savage of a frightful +countenance sprang above the bushes and said in a voice which froze +their blood: '<span class="smcap">Do you hear me?</span>' Since then he has been seen many times by +the foresters and others."</p> + +<p>"I do not like the subject," shuddered Mademoiselle de Richeval, +crossing herself.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," d'Estaing gravely said, bowing.</p> + +<p>"Tell me something about those men ascending into the clouds," spoke the +silvery voice of the young Baroness, addressing Germain.</p> + +<p>He gladly told her all he knew of the late ascent, at which he had been +present in Bordeaux; how Montgolfier and his brother made the balloon; +how he stood by their enclosure and saw them fill the balloon with +inflammable gas; how the brave four got into the car and everybody +prophesied their destruction; and of the speechless thrill with which he +saw at last the strange machine dart upwards and carry them swiftly +higher and higher, until it was but a speck drifting across the clouds.</p> + +<p>The vividness of his account pleased her, and at the end she was +permitting him to drink her health, when they were interrupted by an +exclamation, and saw de Grancey pointing to the table. A surprise of an +ingenious nature was occurring before their eyes. The artificial hoar +frost which gave such beauty to the miniature landscape was slowly +melting with the heat of the room, and during the process the guests saw +the thawing of the river, the budding of the trees, and the blossoming +of the various flowers take place, as spring succeeded winter. A little +cry of delight leaped involuntarily from the lips of the sweet la Roche +Vernay and she smiled exquisitely on Germain, who, in that moment, +wildly lost his heart.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER VII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">"THE LEAP IS TAKEN"</p> + + +<p>"Who is this Monsieur de Répentigny, Chevalier?—tell me," asked the +Princess, who was holding her little evening court in full circle on the +balustraded terrace behind the château. She sat well out where there was +plenty of room for the swell and spread of her vast garland-flounced +skirts,—a woman of something less than forty, the incarnation of inane +condescension. At her feet were her two pages—rosy little boys, dressed +exactly like full-grown gentlemen. The ladies of her circle sat around +her, each likewise skirt-voluminous, all pretending to be negligently +engaged unravelling scraps of gold and silver lace, the great +fashionable occupation of the day. Her reader stood behind her.</p> + +<p>The Chevalier, when addressed, had just remounted the steps from the +lawn to the terrace with the Prince. He made a smiling bow.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Répentigny?" he inquired. "I do not know of whom—ah, it is +of Germain you speak."</p> + +<p>Only the little Abbé, crouching, noted the first half of his answer. He +treasured it away in his memory.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Germain then," continued the Princess—"this Canadian +gentleman. Is he one of your relations?"</p> + +<p>"One of my dearest, Madame. Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Because he is the most adorable of men. He has explained to me the +<i>coiffure Montgolfier</i>."</p> + +<p>"He is a picture," exclaimed Mademoiselle de Richeval.</p> + +<p>"A man, Mademoiselle," returned de Bailleul warmly.</p> + +<p>"Has he a fortune then, Chevalier?" she laughed.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he shall have mine," quizzed the old soldier.</p> + +<p>"He must come with us to Versailles, Chevalier," said the Princess. "So +agreeable a person will be indispensable to me."</p> + +<p>Germain, dallying behind the Chevalier, approached the foot of the +terrace steps.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur-Germain," she cried to him, "will you do me the honour of +returning to Versailles with us?"</p> + +<p>What could the poor fellow do but thank her with his profoundest bow, +though the situation set his head in a whirl.</p> + +<p>"Is it the pleasure of Madame that I should read?" interrupted a harsh +and ruffled voice. The Princess, for reply, took out of her work-bag a +book of devotions and handed it to the Abbé. He received it with a +cringing bow, but as he glanced at it a suggestion of repugnance flitted +across his lips. "Or does she care first to hear the trifle of news +which I brought from Fontainebleau?"</p> + +<p>"What, have you dared conceal a scandal so long, Abbé? Let us have it +instantly," cried the Canoness.</p> + +<p>"He is certainly an offender," echoed Mademoiselle de Richeval.</p> + +<p>"Ladies, listen to the Abbé," said the Princess languidly.</p> + +<p>The pseudo-Abbé scanned the faces about him with a cunning look, +especially that of Germain, as one he would read through and through +were it possible.</p> + +<p>"In the name of mercy, Abbé, proceed," the Canoness cried.</p> + +<p>"It is a trifle, a piece of mere common talk," he said demurely.</p> + +<p>"Speak, Abbé," commanded the Princess de Poix.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle de Merecour——" he began deliberately.</p> + +<p>"Hélène?" all exclaimed in astonishment. "Proceed—tell us."</p> + +<p>"She is my best friend," the Baroness murmured.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle de Merecour," he repeated, still delaying. "Have you heard +why she looked so disdainful at the Queen's Game last evening?"</p> + +<p>"We never guess your enigmas. Go on."</p> + +<p>"She has need to look brave."</p> + +<p>"She is about to marry Monsieur de Sillon," said Cyrène. "Perhaps that +explains any unusual expression."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur de Sillon—yes, Mademoiselle, Monsieur de Sillon—but, +ladies, do you know there is no Monsieur de Sillon?"</p> + +<p>"No Monsieur de Sillon?"</p> + +<p>"Is Monsieur dead?" gasped Cyrène, her hand darting to her breast.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Sillon will never die, Mademoiselle. It is a maxim of the +philosophy of Aquinas that what never existed never ceases to exist. +What a grand lord was this Monsieur de Sillon! How he bought himself +into that colonelship of Dragoons, invented that band uniform, scattered +those broad pieces at play, kept that stable of English hunters, and +boasted of those interminable ancestries in Burgundy! Well, this +Monsieur de Sillon, who rode in the carriages of the King by right of +his four centuries of <i>noblesse</i>, whose coat bore no less than eighteen +fine quarterings, whose crest was an eagle and his betrothed a Merecour, +is the son of a tanner of Tours."</p> + +<p>"Incredible!"</p> + +<p>"Impossible!"</p> + +<p>"You fable exquisitely!"</p> + +<p>"The contract of marriage, they said, had actually been signed by the +King——"</p> + +<p>"Go on, you are a snail!" snapped the Canoness.</p> + +<p>"Only then was it discovered that his father had amassed a fortune in +ox-skins, that the son had picked up some manners, riding, fencing, and +blazonry; none knows how; and that his first introductions were bought +and paid for. He is now, some say, in the Bastille, some in Vincennes +Dungeon, nobody will ever know exactly which. That is all, ladies."</p> + +<p>"Let us thank the saints for Mademoiselle's deliverance!" cried the +Princess piously.</p> + +<p>Cyrène gasped and said nothing, but tears filled her eyes.</p> + +<p>"The horror of but touching one of those creatures—those diners in the +kitchen!" exclaimed the Canoness.</p> + +<p>"Of his daring to approach a lady in marriage!" added Mademoiselle de +Richeval.</p> + +<p>"Were she one of <i>my</i> blood, he should die," asserted d'Estaing.</p> + +<p>An uncanny, silent light passed across the half-shut eyes of Abbé Jude, +and gleamed towards one and another of these haughty exclusives as they +talked together so regardlessly before the face of him they thought the +only plebeian among them. His eye at last met that of Lecour, and he +caught a confusion on the Canadian's countenance which he stored away +carefully with the words of de Bailleul.</p> + +<p>The evening fell, and a faint silver moon rose in the sky and grew +brighter and brighter over park and mere. The Princess went in to play +cards, followed by the others. Germain and the Baroness walked up and +down the terrace alone, talking of the stars and the delightful +speculations about them in the book of Fontenelle.</p> + +<p>Under the moonlight the girl's fragile beauty wove its fascination +deeper over him. He launched himself upon the strange sea of emotions +which were more and more crowding upon him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God!" he thought, "am I walking the celestial gardens? Am I a +spirit doomed to banishment? Am I at the same moment both ravished and +damned?"</p> + +<p>Once when they came to the end of the terrace they leaned on the +balustrade and looked down at the water. Glossy dark in the shadows of +the old castle which stood in its midst, and in those of the grove on +the further side, it glittered tranquilly where the moonshine fell on +its surface, and the foliage around it wore a soft, glittering veil. +Some mighty witch, some spirit combining Beauty, Power, and the +Centuries, seemed to reign over the lake, holding silent court in the +peaked and clustered white walls and turrets of the ancient stronghold.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle," he said very quietly, "<i>I</i> have reason to be silent; but +tell me why <i>you</i> are so pensive?"</p> + +<p>"I was sad for my friend Hélène. Love must be so sacred."</p> + +<p>"Did you know her suitor?"</p> + +<p>"Sillon—yes; he had <i>dared</i> to speak to me."</p> + +<p>They were silent. It was not he who next spoke. Her clear eyes looked as +if into his soul as she said after a long time—</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Répentigny, what would you do were you Hélène's brother?"</p> + +<p>Germain's sword in an instant slid half-drawn from its sheath, and he +gasped, "I would find him."</p> + +<p>She drew her slender figure up in the dusk and looked at him with an +approving glance as if to say, "<i>You</i> are of other fibre than the +baseborn."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sweet Cyrène!" he exclaimed, then checked himself, appalled at his +presumption, and added, "Alas, what am I saying? Heaven knows I am mad."</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush!" she shuddered, glancing back over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>Germain turned and caught sight of a shadow advancing. It proved to be +the Abbé.</p> + +<p>"Excuse the messenger of Madame," said he. "She asks you, Baroness, to +take a hand at piquet."</p> + +<p>She courtesied graciously to Germain and moved away, followed by the +Princess's black parasite. When she passed through the immense glass +door which looked from the card-room upon the terrace, and his eyes +could no longer follow her loveliness, Lecour turned towards the lake +and exclaimed in a low voice—</p> + +<p>"There must be some way to win the paradise on earth and this seraph. +Castle of ages past, frown not too hardly upon me. You represent what I +love—the grand, the brave, the historic, the fair."</p> + +<p class="d"> * * * * * </p> + +<p>As he paced his chamber after the household had retired, the +recollection of the day became an elixir, exciting and delicious.</p> + +<p>The room was in one of the four towers of the château. Sitting down, he +looked out through an open window upon the peace of the night-world. +There were the gardens, quiet, lovely and ghostly, the weird water, the +stately grove beyond it. He sat by the window more than two hours, while +the events just over crowded through his brain.</p> + +<p>After a time the moonlight lit an unhappy countenance; next it grew +fixed and studious. He paced the room, he threw himself back into his +chair, rose once more, drew long breaths of cool air at the windows, and +knelt at the <i>prie-Dieu</i> in the inmost corner. A violent tempest had +arisen within. The sails and yards of the soul-ship were strained, and +it was fleeing without a rudder.</p> + +<p>At last he undressed quickly and got into bed. He could not sleep, but +tossed from side to side. Finally he sprang up and sat on the side of +the couch lost in swift, fevered thought.</p> + +<p>"For her," he whispered in intensest passion—"yes, for her." Then he +hesitated. Suddenly, with fierce decision, he added, "The leap is +taken."</p> + +<p>At once the inward storm subsided, sleep overpowered him, and he dropped +back at rest. The moon laid its rays like bars of silver across the bed, +and illuminated his unconscious face and flowing hair with a patch of +brightness. Such is the serene look of heaven upon its wandering +children.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER VIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE ABBÉ'S DISASTER</p> + + +<p>The force of circumstances had proved too great. What strength had his +training or his age to resist them? The old master, Love, the compeller +of so many heroisms and so many crimes, from Eve and Helen to Manon +Lescaut, had grasped him with his wizard power. Poor Germain, thitherto +so worthy and so well-intentioned, rose in the morning an adventurer—an +adventurer, it is true, driven by desperation and anguish into his +dangerous part, and grasping the hope of nevertheless yet winning by +some forlorn good deed the forgiveness of her who was otherwise lost to +him.</p> + +<p>As Dominique, the Auvergnat valet who had been assigned to him by de +Bailleul—because he had been foster father to the Chevalier's son—tied +his hair, put on his morning coat and sword, buckled the sparkling +buckles on his shoes, and handed him his jewelled snuff-box, each +process seemed to Germain a preparation for some unknown accident that +might happen, and in which he must be ready to conquer. When he stepped +down to meet his companions, it was distinctly and consciously to +henceforth play a <i>rôle</i>.</p> + +<p>He saw Cyrène sitting on a seat in the garden, putting together, with +the critical fingers of a girl, a large bouquet. There was a statue of +Fame close by, and beside it a laurel. She had plucked some of the +leaves to tie with her blossoms.</p> + +<p>He went out to her and proffered a word of greeting. She was about to +reply, but the meeting was interrupted by a voice, and the Abbé appeared +from behind the pedestal.</p> + +<p>"What! a laurel twig among your flowers, Baroness?" said he. "Excellent! +for Fame herself is not a goddess more suited to distribute favours. Do +I not in you Madame, see again Daphne, the friend of Apollo, who turned +into that tree?" and, smiling atrociously over his classical sweet +speech, he looked at Lecour.</p> + +<p>"The insolence!" thought Germain, who also took it as a good opportunity +to begin his <i>rôle</i>. "Well, sir," he exclaimed sharply, "talking of +Apollo, did you ever hear that this god flayed one Marsyas for +presumption?"</p> + +<p>Cyrène flashed him a surprised and grateful glance.</p> + +<p>"I have heard, sir," replied Jude, "that the Princess de Poix desires me +to find and conduct to her Madame the Baroness de la Roche Vernay."</p> + +<p>So saying, he carried off Cyrène again, like some black piratical +cruiser, and she reluctantly accompanied him, looking back regretfully +over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>Lecour could not understand the eternal use of the formal orders of the +Princess. He watched the two in a vexed stupor until they disappeared. +Then he recalled the inanity and exacting requests of the great lady, +and guessed how her reader was able to so boldly play his annoying +trick.</p> + +<p>Just then Grancey laid his hand on Germain's shoulder. There was so much +friendship in the face of the golden-haired Life Guard that Lecour at +once raised the question uppermost in his mind.</p> + +<p>"Baron," said he, "tell me, who is Madame de la Roche Vernay?"</p> + +<p>Grancey's eyes twinkled intelligently.</p> + +<p>"It is an affair, then? I can keep secrets."</p> + +<p>"An affair only on my unfortunate side," Germain admitted gloomily.</p> + +<p>"As on that of many another. Your Cyrène is the bearer of a very great +name: she is a Montmorency."</p> + +<p>"A Montmorency!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; she is a widow, you see."</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"While an orphan. Her father, the Vicomte Luc de Montmorency, who was a +madman of a spendthrift, ended up in two bankruptcies, and was banished +from Court. Cyrène was brought up in a mouldy old château near St. Ouen. +When only thirteen her hand was sought by an ambitious financier, +Trochu, for his son, Baron la Roche Vernay, who was then with his +regiment in Dominica. Money was necessary to the Vicomte, and, in short, +Mademoiselle was sold for two million livres, and the marriage +celebrated by proxy, as both the fathers were impatient to finish the +bargain. It appeared by the mails that the young man died of fever two +days after.</p> + +<p>"She wears no mourning," said Germain.</p> + +<p>"Her father forbade it, and he brought her back with her dowry at once +to his own roof, away from the Trochus."</p> + +<p>"But why is such a beautiful woman not married again?"</p> + +<p>"Do you not know that at the Court nobody except the bald and toothless +marries, except for fortune. There are plenty of lovers, but no +husbands. Because she is poor she is passed about in the family, +sometimes as lady of honour to the Princess, sometimes to the Maréchale +de Noailles, her grand-aunt."</p> + +<p>Germain's feelings were trebly disturbed by the history of the +child-widow. He made an effort to speak to her once more by inviting her +to the tennis-court, but the Abbé informed them just then that she was +requested to read correspondence to the Princess.</p> + +<p>When he was in his bedchamber having his hunting-boots pulled off after +a badger hunt with the male guests, the valet, Dominique, began to talk.</p> + +<p>"That is a queer priest—that Messire Jude, the Abbé."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dominique."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur Germain. He talks very freely with us servants. This +morning he inquired a great deal of me about your affairs. He said you +were a close friend of his. Was <i>he</i> a Canadian?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. What more, Dominique?"</p> + +<p>"He asked how long you had been here; and what relationship you bore to +our master; and what were your intentions about staying; and your +fortune and your rank; and how many were your clothes and jewels. Then +he proposed to see into your chamber here."</p> + +<p>"Did you let him?"</p> + +<p>"I told him it was against my duty, sir; but he told me I must never +dispute the Church, so he walked in and examined +everything—<i>everything</i>; he even opened the cupboards."</p> + +<p>"The thief! If you allow that man in my apartment again I will spit you +both. Remember!"</p> + +<p>Grancey and d'Amoreau came in.</p> + +<p>"Curses on that black beetle," exclaimed the latter.</p> + +<p>"Amen," profoundly echoed the former. "If it were not for the Princess I +would feed my rapier with him."</p> + +<p>"He has no right to such an honour; I would have him whipped by the +lackeys. Répentigny, he has got her to take us back to the Palace +to-morrow morning, and spoilt all our pleasure."</p> + +<p>"That seems to be his vocation," Germain answered with warmth. "I would +undertake to punish him myself."</p> + +<p>"On a wager of ten to two half-louis?"</p> + +<p>"Accepted."</p> + +<p>The two officers laughed uproariously at the prospect.</p> + +<p>"Répentigny, if you do this," cried Grancey, "we will speak for you to +the King for something good."</p> + +<p>After dinner Madame proposed a promenade in the park. Strolling in +procession, they came to some marble steps by the lakeside, where the +host proposed that the young men should take boats and row the ladies +about, and he assigned Germain to Cyrène.</p> + +<p>They were entering one of the shallops, when Jude suggested that the +Princess should be taken too. She objected; she detested water.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will enjoy it myself," he said, and with the utmost assurance +stepped into the stern; while d'Amoreau and Grancey chuckled and looked +at each other and Germain. The latter smiled and rowed down the lake.</p> + +<p>On the other side was a clearing in the grove, where a stone seat was +placed near the bank. Here Lecour drew to shore, and handed out Cyrène. +The two Guardsmen were watching him closely. When Jude rose from the +stem seat he felt a sudden strong turn given to the boat. He clutched +the air, it did not save him; one black silk leg kicked up, and he +disappeared under the water.</p> + +<p>The face of Cyrène, who had seated herself on the stone bench, was for a +moment one of alarm.</p> + +<p>The depth was not, however, above the Abbé's waist, and when he rose his +look of furious misery was too comical for any pity. The water streamed +in a cataract from his wig over his elongated countenance and ruined +clothes. He had screwed his face into the black slime of the bottom; it +was now besides distorted with his efforts to breathe, and he +unconsciously held up his blackened hands in the attitude of blessing. +The whole party could not contain their laughter. D'Amoreau, Grancey, +and the other Guardsmen sent up continuous roars on roars from their +boats. The Prince smiled; de Bailleul's efforts to control himself were +ineffectual; the ladies all tittered, except Madame, who stood on shore, +and even the considerate Cyrène could restrain herself no longer, but +turned her head from the moving appeal of the unfortunate figure before +her, and gave way to a silvery chime of undiluted enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"Hush, cousin," cried the Princess de Poix, stilted as ever; "such a sad +accident."</p> + +<p>"Répentigny, by Castor and Pollux," swore d'Amoreau at the first moment +of their meeting in private, "here are not five louis, but twenty. You +were made for a Marshal of France."</p> + +<p>"Dominique," Germain called out, "spend this with your fellows" (by +instinct he knew it was part of his <i>rôle</i> to be lavish), "and tell them +to drink to that meddlesome blackleg."</p> + +<p>"In cold water," d'Amoreau added.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER IX</a></h3> + +<p class="c">A PHILOSOPHER BEHIND HORSE-PISTOLS</p> + + +<p>The procession of carriages containing the guests rolled back to the +Palace through the forest.</p> + +<p>The carriage of the Prince came last and in it sat the Prince and +Princess, Cyrène and Jude, while Lecour rode alongside for some miles. +How more and more he dreaded the revelation of his humble birth. He said +his adieux at length and turned back with the keenest misery in his +breast he had ever felt—such misery indeed that after a little he could +not resist retracing his route.</p> + +<p>The Prince's coach meanwhile had lagged behind the others at a point +where the road cut through a small gorge. His Excellency was giving the +ladies an account and history of the Chevalier's wounds, when in the +middle of it the horses stopped with a jerk. A commotion without any +words appeared to be going on outside. The Prince put his head out and +found himself looking into the barrels of a horse-pistol, while a masked +man of heavy build summoned him to be quiet. He saw moreover nine or ten +half-naked fellows also disguised in rude masks, posted about, with +muskets and pistols pointed at the grooms and himself. The Princess fell +in a faint. The Abbé threw himself under the seat. Such scenes were +being enacted every day on the highroads in that lumbering old handmade +century.</p> + +<p>The head of the man who had charge of the Prince was, as it were, +thatched with a torn hat and his black hair straggled past his mask in +tufts down to his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Purses!" he growled harshly, putting his head in at the window.</p> + +<p>"Cut-throat!" cried the Prince. "You shall swing for this as sure as +there is a Lieutenant of Police in Paris."</p> + +<p>The big man's answer was a ferocious "Enough!"</p> + +<p>And as his black finger twitched threateningly upon the trigger, Cyrène +laid her restraining hand on her cousin's arm. She took out her purse +with her other hand and passed it to the man. She promptly also pulled +out that of the Princess. The Prince handed his own to her and it was +passed over with that of his wife.</p> + +<p>"Watches!" was the next order.</p> + +<p>With the same coolness she passed these likewise.</p> + +<p>He scowled next at the brooch Cyrène wore at her neck.</p> + +<p>"Give me that," he commanded. She stopped and said firmly—</p> + +<p>"Thou hast sufficient, thou."</p> + +<p>"I must have that."</p> + +<p>With a momentary impatience she tore it off.</p> + +<p>"Consult thy best interests and go," she said in a stern voice.</p> + +<p>He did not lack the necessary quickness of judgment, and signed to his +mates who retreated into the woods, keeping the lackeys well covered +with their firearms.</p> + +<p>"My ladies and my Lord," said the big man, still holding his pistol +aimed at the Prince. "We levy this tax in <i>the name of the King</i>." That +is what you say when you steal from us, the people. "We commend you the +consolation of your formula."</p> + +<p>Having made this singular speech, to the infinite fury of the Prince, +who would have drawn his sword and leaped out at him had it not been for +Cyrène, he retired backward into the forest.</p> + +<p>Germain came into sight at this juncture. The scene shocked and +astonished him, he drove his spurs into the flanks of his horse, which, +with bounds of pain, flew forward, and leaping off, he peered anxiously +into the carriage. The situation was clear enough to him, for its like +was then only too common, so, placing aside for the time being his rage +at the villains, he lifted and straightened the insensible lady into a +position on the seat-cushions, and sent a groom forward for help.</p> + +<p>The gratitude of the Prince was profuse. Cyrène spoke not a word. The +shock to her had been intense, and burying her face in her handkerchief +she burst into tears, which more than ever agitated Lecour.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes d'Estaing and de Grancey drove up. They were astonished +at the speed and audacity of the affair.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER X</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE GALLEY-ON-LAND</p> + + +<p>At three o'clock a search party of friends and gendarmes from the +Palace, at which the occurrence had aroused something of a flutter, came +back to the place.</p> + +<p>The Guardsmen offered to scour the woods in a body. Lecour soberly +recommended a different plan, which they adopted, and placing his six +friends and several royal gamekeepers in Indian file he started at their +head. They followed him without speaking and watched him closely as, +with an intentness quite un-French, he bent down to see farther through +the trees, examined the branches for newly-broken twigs, the displaced +stones, the crushed mosses, disturbed grass, and soft places of the +ground, and the little indications read and looked for by trappers and +Indians. As he entered the woods the traces of the first rush back of +the robbers gave a mass of easy clues and an initial direction. +Following on they came to a marsh, where they found footmarks, and +readily put together the number of the thieves and the physical +character of each. In an open place the trail would be an unconcealed +track across the grass; in dry woods perhaps it would be lost for many +yards. Its discovery, of course, was not altogether so marvellous a +matter as they thought. But it helped Germain's reputation afterwards.</p> + +<p>At last they came into a tangled and difficult region called Âpremont, +where the rocky ridges were broken into intractable ruins—the most +savage portion of the forest. Strange cliffs of shale, eaten by weather +and earthquake into the most picturesque columns and caves, confronted +them. Here the signs became rare and the advance tedious, but the little +column still breathlessly followed the woodsman. They were rewarded by +finding a neighbourhood where the damp mosses showed many tracks +converging, and as Grancey thought he distinguished a distant sound +Germain listened and heard what he judged to be the faint refrain of a +song. He now adopted greater caution, placing his gamekeepers in a body +to remain ready at call, and at different points setting his friends in +easy reach of each other.</p> + +<p>Grancey and he crept along, guided by the uncertain sounds of the song, +but found that they grew fainter. On this they retraced their path and +were gratified to hear the sound increase again. They discovered a point +where it would not grow any louder, and here Germain paused. "I have the +secret!" he whispered, and placed his ear to the ground. The Baron +imitated him. True enough the singing was <i>below</i>. They caught other +voices now. Lecour pondered a few moments. He followed an irregular rent +in the rock and disappeared to one side. Returning on tiptoe, excited +for the first time, he beckoned Grancey to accompany him and led the way +with the greatest precaution to a long crack in the side of a hill, +scarcely discernible without the closest scrutiny, through which the +accents came quite audibly, and they caught sight of the objects below +in a grey light. They made out a narrow, oblique cavern, formed by the +widening of what geologists call a "fault" in the shaly rock. Eight men, +all in rags with one exception, were sitting and lying about. Stretched +on the ground, drinking alternately from a bottle, were two, one of whom +was singing snatches of a rambling <i>vaudeville</i>.</p> + +<p>Grancey touched Germain and pointed out that their firearms were in a +heap at the entrance, and that a rope attached there and coiled loosely +showed their means of exit down the face of the cliff.</p> + +<p>The man who was not in rags was standing up, the centre of attraction. +He appeared to be a visitor.</p> + +<p>"Stay with us the night," said the leader, a big man of ferocious brows +and keen black eyes. "Our friend, his Majesty, has sent us some of his +venison."</p> + +<p>"The Big Hog?" said the stranger.</p> + +<p>A round of laughter echoed through the cavern. The stoutness of the King +had given rise to this nickname among the people.</p> + +<p>"When his head is ours it will be better than his venison," he added.</p> + +<p>About this man's face there was something strikingly horrible and +subtle. His countenance was the image of a grinning death's-head. Its +intelligent, stealthy, and sinister sunken eyes, its depressed nose and +heartless fixed grin aroused repulsion. Its bearing of distinct courage +alone somewhat reclaimed it. His cloak was thrown back, showing a gold +lace belt stuck with knives and pistols, while on his head was a green +cap, which Grancey recognised as the cap of the galley felons.</p> + +<p>"What news of the Galley-on-land, Admiral?" asked the robber leader.</p> + +<p>"All goes well."</p> + +<p>"How many at our oars?"</p> + +<p>"Two hundred and forty-eight."</p> + +<p>"Besides friends?"</p> + +<p>"Besides thirty-four friends. We are all in the salt country now except +yourselves and the bench at Paris. We reviewed in the pines of Morlaix +last month. Such brave ragmen! Forty-seven had killed a hog."</p> + +<p>The circle's eyes glistened.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the hogs fear us, but the Galley is dark as wind."</p> + +<p>"You should have seen the hogs to-day," cried the cave leader; "stupid +beasts, too fat to jump."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you stick them?"</p> + +<p>"Sacré Dieu! not here; it's too near the Big Hog."</p> + +<p>"The Big Hog does not worry us at Morlaix. Since the salt-tax is raised +four <i>sous</i> in the pound we are all in the Brittany marshes, passing +salt into Maine. In Maine a poor man can eat no meat because he can have +no brine. You can guess that where the people squeal so there is room +for our profit. We lie in the marshes; we gather our piles of salt; we +creep out by night through the woods, and—flip—past the salt-guards +into Maine. Guards, guards, guards—blue men, black men, green men—all +over France. Sacré! they are an itch—a leprosy. Do we hate them, we +all?"</p> + +<p>"By the oath of the Green Cap," they cried all together.</p> + +<p>"Well, we <i>were</i> vagabonds," he continued, "in the Morlaix woods. Our +great fire lit up the pines at midnight and our men of rags crept up on +all sides to the feast. Some brought white bread, some black, some a +pigeon or two from the lord's dovecotes, and every one his bottle of +wine. There we told what we were doing and planned the campaign. You may +swear we were jolly that night. They have sent me to visit your bench of +Fontainebleau, and pray you for the ransom-money of Blogue, who lies in +Bordeaux prison to be hanged. Two of his guards can be settled for +eighty livres. You are rich, they say, and can pay it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we can afford it," cried the cavern-chief boastfully.</p> + +<p>"I thought so, handsome ragmen," returned the visitor. He dropped the +point for a moment and suddenly throwing his right hand free from his +cloak rose into a curious strain of eloquence which made manifest the +nature of this strange organisation, or at least the aims which the man +of the death's-head chose to claim for it.</p> + +<p>"Let us never forget, comrades, who we are—that our Order is the +avenger of the wrongs of the people. Give me each your sufferings that I +may treasure them in the common treasury. Give me the tears that have +been shed, the deaths, the starvations, the griefs, the insults, the +cruelties, that I may heap them one upon another in a secret place, +whence, on a day which I see rising very bright out of the days of this +generation, we shall thrust them out all bleeding and dreadful to fly +forth together swift as eagles for the hearts of the rich. Hugues de la +Tour, what wrongs have you to tell?"</p> + +<p>"Admiral," cried the young man hoarsely, after drinking a gulp from a +bottle, his eyes bloodshot, and swinging his knife, "I have suffered +till my blood runs like a current of fire against all who are in ease. I +hate the King, the Church, the rich, the judges, the strong, the fair. +My father was a noble of the Court, my mother a Huguenot, and wedded to +him by the rite of the Reformed Religion, his own pretended faith. With +this excuse he threw her off. He denied her the name of wife and us of +his children. His servants pushed her from his door. She died in a +garret at Dijon. I took my little sister by the hand, and travelling to +my father's door in Versailles awaited his entry into his carriage. We +caught his skirts and cried, "Our father!" With his own hands he threw +us to the pavement. For years I felt, brothers, what you have +felt—cold, hunger, and disdain—but I hoarded the thought of 'Justice' +as the friend of the wronged.</p> + +<p>"I at length petitioned the magistrature. My papers were unheeded. I +appealed to the Minister. The Minister was silent. I found a way of +presenting our griefs and claims to the King himself. For answer, a +sealed warrant empowered the monster of our life to throw us into +prison. There my poor sister died; I escaped. Join me to your +galley-oars. I hate all monarchs, decrees, nobles, priests, courtiers. +Crime is justice, justice is the system of crime!"</p> + +<p>"Very good, Hugues la Tour," commended the Admiral, "you shall have your +hands full of true justice."</p> + +<p>"I," shouted a violent man of haggard countenance, "was a cultivator of +Auvergne. By incredible hardship I made myself owner of a plot of +ground. My woman and I lived scantily on our daily black bread and +'pepperpot'; we spent nothing; we had no comforts, but from year to +year, as the <i>sous</i> were piled away in our hoard, we kept our eyes on +the neighbouring acre of moorland. One year a drought came. Our <i>sous</i> +were diminished by famine. It was then the tax gatherer came upon us, +his claims heavier than in the years before, for one of the village tax +commissioners was jealous of us. The rest of our <i>sous</i> were not +sufficient; we could not borrow. A bailiff, a 'blue man,' was placed in +our cabin at our cost. The suit went through the Court: we were +discomfited. They took my possessions, as at the commencement they had +designed to do. They starved my wife; they killed my children. I, too, +will kill."</p> + +<p>"I also," shouted another. "The tithe was my ruin."</p> + +<p>"The worse avarice is the cassock's," said the visitor. "A day of blood +approaches, a day of cutting of priests' throats and burning of +churches."</p> + +<p>"I—I can say nothing," another grumbled. "I have always been in rags +and a vagabond. Is it my fault? Who taught me to steal, to strike?"</p> + +<p>"Brave rowers," exclaimed the visitor, "I thank you, and as Blogue has +to be ransomed, let us see what you have restored to justice."</p> + +<p>"Here is for Blogue, and a little more," exclaimed the cavern-chief, +throwing over a packet he had been making up, "when the disciples are +lucky, the apostle must not lack."</p> + +<p>He then spread out a large black kerchief, and placed upon it, one by +one, in the sight of all, the watches, jewels and purses taken from the +coach.</p> + +<p>There was one part of this which was perhaps the only thing in their +power by which they could have disturbed Lecour's self control just +then. When he saw Cyrène's brooch in these felonious hands his blood +boiled up and he stamped his foot involuntarily on the rock.</p> + +<p>Horror! The loose shaly stones gave way with a rush beneath him. Down he +slid into the cavern, saved in his descent only by the slope and ledges +of the "fault." The astonished bandits fled back with a shout. Before +Germain could move, however, the robber captain sprang upon him, and, +locking him in a desperate embrace, they quickly rolled to the doorway +where, in their struggle, the pile of firearms was swept out into the +gorge. The giant lifted him bodily and threw him out down the face of +the cliff. At this terrible moment the Indian quickness of his early +life came to his rescue, for even as he fell he caught the rope, and +slid down to the bottom. There he shouted for the gamekeepers. He could +see the robbers looking over the entrance and seeming to debate. +Immediately after, two bodies shot down upon him from the cavern, and he +found himself face to face with the big man and the Admiral. They +sprang upon him in concert, and while the former held him, the second +sped off up the gorge and was lost to sight. The robber captain detained +him with a grip of immense power, until three more slid down and made +off. Then, hearing the shouts of the gamekeepers close at hand, he +sprang towards the opposite cliff, climbed straight up it from ledge to +ledge with miracles of muscle, and disappeared over the top. Three +wretches who were still in the cave were secured, fighting savagely. One +was la Tour.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE COURT</p> + + +<p>A week or so later, Germain sent his mother the following letter:—</p> + +<p class="beg"> +"<span class="smcap">The Palace, Fontainebleau</span>,<br /> +<i>8th September, 1786</i>.<br /> +</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Mother</span>,—My good fortune is inexpressible. The whole of your +dreams for me are fulfilled: can you believe it, your son has—but I +will not anticipate. I can scarcely trust it myself to be true. I +informed you in mine of three days ago, which goes in the same mail as +this, of our capture of the gentry of the cavern. It left me pretty +scratched.</p> + +<p>"The morning following, a courier in a grand livery came riding to the +château to bear me a command to attend the King's hunt. This command, or +invitation, is conveyed by a great card, which I have before me, +engraved in a beautiful writing surrounded by a border exquisitely +representing hounds, deer, and winding-horns with their straps. It +begins: '<i>From the King</i>.' Above are the arms of France, the signature +is that of the chamberlain. You may think into what ecstasy it threw me +when my valet handed me these. (You know everybody in society must have +a valet here). My limbs seemed to lose their bruises, and I hastened to +the Chevalier, who was much pleased with this testimony of the credit I +appeared to have brought him, for, with the greatest affection and +generosity, he continues to consider me in the light of a son. He told +me how to act at the ceremonies and the hunt, and to take care not to +ride across the path of the King, for that is a thing which makes his +Majesty very angry. We talked it over perfectly. The only point to which +he took objection was that the card was addressed to "Monsieur de +Répentigny."</p> + +<p>"'I hope,' he said, 'there will be no trouble about this. There was a +Répentigny in the army of Canada. We must try to get rid of this name.'</p> + +<p>"'If I am at fault with it,' returned I, 'I will make public at once how +it has come to be attached to me without my seeking. Even if an owner of +it should occur, he must as a man of honour accept my explanation.'</p> + +<p>"'True,' answered he, 'I am here to witness that. Do not change it for a +day or two. It would be excessively embarrassing for you were it to be +altered on this occasion, for the decrees have of late years been very +strict about birth.'</p> + +<p>"'Would these decrees exclude me from this invitation?' I asked him.</p> + +<p>"'Unquestionably,' he replied. 'And that would be too cruel; you are as +good a man as any of them.'</p> + +<p>"'Very well,' I answered. 'Afterwards I can return to my proper +station.'</p> + +<p>"But, dear mother, you cannot think what these words meant to me, +notwithstanding that I ought to have known it to be so. I left him at +once and fled into the park in order to hide my suffering. Oh, it is too +beautiful to lose—this sphere of honour and refinement, this world of +the lovely, the ancestral, this supreme enchantment of the earth. Having +tasted it, how can I return to the common and despised condition of +mankind in general! Mother, you who have taught me that this is my true +world, I leave it to you to answer.</p> + +<p>"That afternoon we drove into the town of Fontainebleau, where there was +a very fine haberdasher, just come from Paris, who agreed to make me the +proper suit and to supply all the accessories. Two days after, I put on +the uniform of a <i>débutant</i>, which cost me pretty dear but made a fine +figure. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I longed for your spirit +to have been in the glass only to see your son in such an array. The +coat was dove-grey satin; waistcoat of dark red, finely figured, with +silver buttons; small clothes of red, white silk stockings, and jewelled +shoes with the red heels which are worn at Court. I also bought a new +dress sword. It has an openwork silver handle and guard; the blade +sheathed in a white scabbard, which is silver-mounted. I wore large +frills and a small French hat finely laced with gold; and I bought +besides long hunting-boots.</p> + +<p>"I drove in our coach to the Palace. As I entered the gates the officer +of the guard espied the livery of the Chevalier, and immediately caused +his company to salute me, observing which all the gentlemen standing +near took off their hats and bowed to me. I drove into the Court of the +White Horse, a great square, one of the five around which this vast +palace is built, and at the entrance door I was met by my dear friend +Baron de Grancey.</p> + +<p>"The Baron said to me, 'Did you not tell us you had never been to Court +before?'</p> + +<p>"I answered that I had not; and, indeed, my <i>débutant</i> dress and +ignorance were sufficient witness to it.</p> + +<p>"'You must, then, have all the honours,' he said. 'He who comes up for +the first time registers his genealogy and has a right to ride in the +King's carriages.'</p> + +<p>"'Then it is a great thing to ride in the King's carriages?'</p> + +<p>"'My dear friend, it is the right of the noble,' replied he, a little +surprised.</p> + +<p>"'Ah, yes, my mother once told me so,' said I. (Dear mother, is it not +true that you said it?)</p> + +<p>"'You shall also play cards with the Queen in the evening.'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, no,' gasped I.</p> + +<p>"'You must,' he returned. 'This honour also is indispensable. After your +<i>début</i> is over you can be as modest as you please.'</p> + +<p>"We arrived by that time at the end of a corridor and before a lofty +chamber, the doors of which were emblazoned in colours with the arms and +devices of France. Within we found the royal genealogist sitting in his +robes of office with the heralds of the royal orders. Round about were +large volumes, the registers of the <i>noblesse</i>, which they were +consulting respecting the parchment titles produced by young gentlemen +in person or through their secretaries; and I was told that before being +presented one must show certificates of descent in both lines since the +fourteenth century. I was so shocked at my situation that I became +angry, so that, when the King's genealogist stretched out his hand for +my papers, I answered proudly, 'I have none.'</p> + +<p>"'What is my lord's name?' he asked most respectfully. Here my tongue +refused to move. But the Baron interfered, replying—</p> + +<p>"'Monsieur de Répentigny. He is far from home, and therefore cannot +produce his titles; but I speak for him as a relative of the Chevalier +de Bailleul.'</p> + +<p>"'Monsieur,' replied the King's genealogist to me graciously, 'the name +of Répentigny needs no parchments.'</p> + +<p>"He ordered one of the secretaries to give me forthwith his brief of +attestation (I still have it). Thus, dear mother, this Baron has won my +gratitude for ever. But attend to what followed, for it is better still.</p> + +<p>"It was in the great hall of the Palace, where the walls and the ceiling +are tapestried with pictures of kings riding the chase. Baron de Grancey +brought me to the Prince de Poix, who acceded to his request to present +me to the Monarch. This Prince is, as I have told you, a very amiable +man, and is obliged to me.</p> + +<p>"The whole Court was there. There was the Archbishop of Paris; the +King's elder brother, whom they call Monsieur; the Dukes and Peers of +France, with their blue ribbons across their breasts; and a countless +crowd of lords and great ladies dressed in state. Picture to yourself a +garden full of the rarest flowers sparkling in the sun after a shower +and bending gracefully to the wind; for such they resembled. I mentally +named one my lord Violet, another my lady Rose, a third was the +Eglantine, another the White Lily; so I pleased myself with +distinguishing them.</p> + +<p>"The trumpets sound, the music sweeps ravishingly into the air. In +passes the King. He is attended by his guards of the sleeve and the +princes of the blood. The Prince de Poix steps forward and speaks my +name. I tremble. Everybody whispers and stares at us. Ah, mother, what a +moment! I know not what passed. His Majesty said, 'You are the hero of +the forest?' smiled, heard my incoherent whisper, and passed on with his +train, smiling to others.</p> + +<p>"Mother dear, I have seen the Sun-King! I have heard the voice to which +Europe listens! I have spoken to Saint Louis and Charlemagne!</p> + +<p>"I have not reserved enough money from the furs. Send me 3,000 livres +as quickly as possible. I am writing this in my chamber here, for I am +to be ready for the hunt early to-morrow morning. Every sound I hear +tells of the presence of Majesty; every sight I get from the window of +this dwelling of our ancient monarchs recalls a score out of the +thousand legends which everybody has been telling me.</p> + +<p>"Convey my deepest affection to my father and Angelique, and to Marie +and Lacroix, and everybody in St. Elphège, and remember always that I am</p> + +<p class="beg1">"Your dear<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Germain</span>.</p> + +<p>"To Madame F. X. Lecour,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">"Répentigny, in Canada.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"(By way of London.)</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"<i>Post Scriptum.</i>—The Queen's Game took place last night after I wrote +the above to you. Their Majesties sat at a great round green table, +surrounded by all the Court.</p> + +<p>"There were some smaller tables, at which several great ladies and lords +sat and played; but everybody's eyes were on the Queen, who is so +marvellously queenly, and on the King with his stars and his blue +ribbon. They two put down their gold (which was in perfectly new pieces) +and dealt the cards a little. I was given a turn with her Majesty, who +smiled and addressed me, at which I almost fainted. And, mother, the +Count de Vaudreuil, whom you used to see as a child, was there. I took +special notice of him for you. He has a very fine figure and is one of +the greatest courtiers.</p> + +<p>"After that, we went off with our friends and had supper and played +nearly all night.</p> + +<p>"At daybreak everybody went to the hunt. I and the other <i>débutants</i> +were driven to the rendezvous in the carriages of the King, drawn by +white horses. There the grooms gave me a magnificent golden mare, who +knew her work so well that she carried me in at the death of the stag +next after his Majesty. (I tremble at what would have happened had I got +there before him.) The Queen came up among the first. She enjoys the +hunt.</p> + +<p class="r">"G. L."<br /> +</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">GERMAIN GOES TO PARIS</p> + + +<p>It appears from the foregoing letter that Germain, before his +presentation, had vacillated in his purpose, so far as his using the +name Répentigny was concerned. All such vacillation vanished in the +excitement of his taste of Court life. The fresh fact—of which Grancey +informed him—that Cyrène had been carried off to Versailles by the +Princess (which he interpreted to mean by the Abbé) only enriched with a +pensive strain, and allowed him to lend an undivided attention to, the +fascinating scenes which surrounded him, full of rich life and colour +like the splendid pictorial tapestries adorning the halls of +Fontainebleau.</p> + +<p>On his return to Eaux Tranquilles, the Chevalier advanced at the gate, +where he had doubtless been waiting some time, and, drawing a small +newspaper out of his coat, said in grave fashion—</p> + +<p>"Germain, there is something in the <i>Gazette de France</i>, which, I fear, +means mischief."</p> + +<p>Lecour took the paper with a heart-throb and read—</p> + +<p>"The Marquis de Gruchy, the Count de Longueville, the Chevaliers des +Trois-Maisons and de Réfsentigny, who had previously the honour of being +presented to the King, had, on the 8th instant, that of entering the +carriages of of his Majesty and following him to the chase."</p> + +<p>His face crimsoned. He looked at the Chevalier.</p> + +<p>"I have mentioned," said the latter, a troubled look appearing on his +sensitive face, "that the name of Répentigny was that of an officer whom +I knew when our army was in Canada. He was a Canadian of the family of +Le Gardeur, who still lives, bearing the title of Marquis, and is, I +believe, Governor of Pondicherry or Mahé in our Indian possesions. +Should the name reach him through the <i>Gazette</i> as being worn by you, it +might lead to the Bastille. That I would not willingly see befall you, +dear boy."</p> + +<p>Germain was touched with the kindness in his friend's voice.</p> + +<p>"What should I do?" he asked, faltering.</p> + +<p>"Remain at Eaux Tranquilles, resume your own name, and enjoy life +quietly, with all I possess yours."</p> + +<p>Tears rose in the young man's eyes. "Your goodness, my second father, is +incredible."</p> + +<p>"You remain, then?" asked de Bailleul eagerly. The conflict of the +moonlight night was once more going on in Lecour's breast. The forces on +both sides were strong.</p> + +<p>"Give me an hour to think, sir. See, this paragraph does not contain any +risk; the word is printed 'Réfsentigny.'"</p> + +<p>The Chevalier scanned it anew.</p> + +<p>"True," said he. "But," he continued, "did you not know there is a +shadow over this name? Have you heard the story of the 'Golden Dog'?"</p> + +<p>"Of Quebec?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Germain's eyes opened with interest.</p> + +<p>"I have passed a great stone house there with a golden dog and an +inscription above its door. I could not but remember it, the more so +that my father refused to utter a word concerning it, though it was +clear he knew some explanation. It was a curious black-faced house +three stories high, eight windows wide, a stiff row of peaked dormers +along the attic. From the edge of the cliff it looked over the whole +country. There were massive steps of stone before it as if gushing out +of the door and spreading on every side; above the door, which was tall +and narrow, was the stone with the sculpture of the dog. Is that the +golden dog you mean?"</p> + +<p>"It is. There happened the most luckless deed in New France. The man who +built that house was the citizen Nicholas Philibert, who had risen to +wealth out of his business of baker, and was respected throughout the +whole town. Bigot, the Intendant of the colony, was bringing the public +finances to appalling ruin by his thefts and extravagances—for we all +knew he was a robber—and was driving the people to madness. The +Bourgeois Philibert was their mouthpiece. If the château of St. Louis +stood out as the castle of the military officialdom and the Intendants +Palace as the castle of the civil officialdom, the house of the +Bourgeois Philibert was the castle of the people, standing against them +perched upon the cliff at the head of the artery of traffic which united +the Upper and Lower towns. It was too marked a challenge. Bigot +determined to harass him. He sent Pierre de Répentigny, then a +lieutenant in the provincials and a young fellow of the rashest temper, +to billet in Philibert's house, though he had no right to do so, as +Philibert, being a King's Munitioner, was exempt from billeting. Bigot +knew there would be a quarrel. It turned out as he had foreseen. +Philibert stood at his door and refused to allow Répentigny to enter. +Répentigny insisted. Philibert loudly claimed his right, and the +protection of the law from the outrage. Répentigny covered him with +sneers, and pushed inward across the threshold. The merchant upbraided +him for his want of respect for grey hairs and the rights of the people. +Répentigny thereupon flew into a rage. He rushed on Philibert, drew his +sword with a curse and thrust him through the body, which fell out of +the door upon the street, and the citizen died in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"How frightful!"</p> + +<p>"Philibert's remains were followed into the cathedral by a weeping +multitude. A number of us officers attended as a protest against Bigot. +In the evening Répentigny was burnt in effigy by the masses in the +square of Notre Dame des Victoires in the Lower Town. Philibert's son +swore eternal vengeance, and had inserted the great stone over the door +of the mansion which bore the figure that you have seen, of the golden +dog crouching and gnawing a bone, and underneath it the legend:</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"<i>I am a dog who gnaws a bone,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;"><i>In gnawing it I take my rest;</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;"><i>A day will come which has not come,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;"><i>When I shall bite him who bit me.</i>"</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Subsequently Répentigny was always held in disgrace, and after the loss +of Canada he took refuge on the other side of the world. They say young +Philibert has followed him thither. What do you think of the story?"</p> + +<p>Germain shuddered and did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Are you willing to wear the name?"</p> + +<p>He shuddered again and hesitated. Finally he answered with a white +face—</p> + +<p>"I am willing to wear it long enough to see Versailles. But with your +permission only."</p> + +<p>"Not so, Germain, I entreat you as a free man."</p> + +<p>"It is hard. It is to give up so much for ever."</p> + +<p>"This sacrifice is the call of Honour, which stands above every +consideration. Promise to remember that in deciding."</p> + +<p>"I promise it," exclaimed Germain, who stood pondering. "Yet, sir, tell +me one thing."</p> + +<p>"Willingly."</p> + +<p>"That should I decide to go, I am at least not to lose your affection."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Germain, you have it for ever. Have no fear of that, whatever +else. The heart of the father changes not towards the son. Nor shall +ever your secret be lost through me. But, alas! I see you already +resolving to do that that my honour, to which I refer every question, +does not commend."</p> + +<p>The old man turned away leaving him agitated and unable to answer. The +tide of love swept over his miserable heart and the form of Cyrène rose +in his thoughts. Her eyes turned the balance. How vast to him was their +argument.</p> + +<p>"I cannot," he exclaimed desperately.</p> + +<p>The more he dwelt upon it the more he found this a settled point. Of us +who think ourselves stronger, how many ever had such a temptation?</p> + +<p>In a few hours he had left Eaux Tranquilles for Paris.</p> + +<p>Dominique brought him to a house in the Quartier du Temple where there +was an apartment which de Bailleul often occupied: there they installed +themselves.</p> + +<p>During the morning Germain would have in some obscure fencing or +deportment master whose instructions he would adapt to suit himself. In +the afternoon he would stroll off among the pleasure seekers who crowded +the ramparts or the arcades of the Palais Royal, or would study the +externals of high life in the Faubourg St Germain. His evenings were +largely spent in the <i>parterre</i> of the opera.</p> + +<p>His signature, in place of plain "Germain Lecour" now read: "LeCour de +Répentigny," with the capital "C," or "Répentigny" alone, in a bold +hand, with a paraph. And there appeared on his fob a seal cut with a +coat of arms highly foliaged—azure with silver chevrons and three +leopards' heads gold, which he had discovered to be the Répentigny +device. With it he sealed the wax on his letters. He had bought indeed a +pocket <i>Armorial</i>, the preface to which was as follows:—</p> + +<p class="c">"<i>To the Incomparable French Noblesse.</i></p> + +<p>"The Author presents to you, valiant and courageous Noblesse, the +<i>Diamond Armorial</i>, which, despite the malice of the Times and the +Flight of Centuries, will carefully preserve the Lustre of your +name and the Glory of your Arms emblazoned in their true colours. +This glorious heraldic material is a Science of State. Though it is +not absolutely necessary that all gentlemen should know how to +compose and blazon arms, it is Very Important for them to know +their Own and not be ignorant of Those of Others. It is the office +of the Heralds to form, charge, break, crown and add Supporters to, +the coats of those who by some Brave and Generous action have shown +their High and Lofty virtues; whereof Kings make use to recompense +to their gentry this mark of Honour and Dignity; that so they may +Impel each to goodly conduct on those occasions where Men of Stout +Hearts acquire Glory for themselves, and Their Posterity...."</p> + +<p class="n">In his chamber, on the day when he bought it, he left it on the table +and the open page began—</p> + +<p>"The glorious house of <i>MONTMORENCY</i> beareth a shield of gold with a +scarlet cross, cantoned with sixteen azure eagles, four by four."</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">A JAR IN ST. ELPHÈGE</p> + + +<p>At noon, on a day late in October, 1786, the Merchant of St. Elphège sat +at the pine dinner-table in his kitchen, opposite his wife, resting his +wooden soup spoon on its butt on the table. The windows, both front and +rear, were wide open, for one of those rare fragrant golden days of late +autumn still permitted it. He was listening, with some of the stolid +Indian manner, to his wife reading Germain's letter. He vouchsafed only +one remark, and that a mercantile one: "Seven weeks, mon Dieu! the +quickest mail I ever got from France!" From time to time, while he +listened, his eyes glanced out with contentment upon the possessions +with which he was surrounded—upon the rich-coloured stubble of his +clearings stretching as far as eye could see down the Assumption, with +their flocks, herds, and brush fences; upon the hamlet to which his +enterprise had given birth, and where he could see, in one cottage, his +<i>sabotiers</i> bent over their benches adding to their piles of wooden +shoes; in others, women at the spinning wheel or loom, making the cloths +of which he had improved the pattern, or weaving the fine and beautiful +arrow-sashes, those <i>ceintures fléchées</i> of which the art is now lost, +yet still known as snowshoers' rareties by the name of "L'Assomption +sashes"; his makers of carved elm-bottom chairs and beef mocassins; and, +within his courtyard, the large and well stocked granaries, fur-attics +and stores for merchandise contained in his four great buildings. His +wife was dressed in cloth much more after the fashion of the world than +the prunella waist, the skirt shot in colors and the kerchief on the +head, which formed the Norman costume of the women seen through the +cottage doors. Her silk stockings and buckled slippers marked a desire +to be the gentlewoman. Her dark eyes struck one as clever. Her first +husband had been the butler of the Marquis de Beauharnois when that +nobleman was Governor of Canada, and she had never ceased to look back +upon the recollections of high life stored away in those days in her +experience.</p> + +<p>"There!" she exclaimed, as she flourished the letter at the end of +Germain's account of the reception—"Presented to the Court! Lecour, +when you said I was my boy's ruin, when you grumbled at his abandoning +the apothecary's shop to go to the Seminary and learn fine manners, did +I not tell you my son was baked of Sèvres and not of clay? At the Court +of France! and presented to his Most Christian Majesty! Among Princes, +Counts, Duchesses and Cardinals! What do you say to <i>that</i>, Lecour?"</p> + +<p>Her husband's eyes twinkled: "That for the moment you are General +Montcalm, victorious; though I remind you that General Montcalm +afterwards had his Quebec."</p> + +<p>"Quebec or no, my son is at the Court of France."</p> + +<p>"I do not dispute that."</p> + +<p>He began assiduously making away with his smoking pea-soup.</p> + +<p>"Let us proceed with the letter," said she, for she had indeed shown her +generalship in stopping where she did.</p> + +<p>"Ah," she went on, pretending to scan the next words for the first time, +"Germain needs three thousand livres."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"Only three thousand."</p> + +<p>"But he kept three thousand out of the beaver-skins; the last draft was +for nine hundred; whither is this leading? Have we not to live and carry +on the business? and you grow more fanciful every day, as if we were +seigneurs and not peasants."</p> + +<p>"Certainly we are not peasants—<i>citizens</i>, if you please: anybody will +tell you that a merchant is not a peasant. There are citizens who are +<i>noble</i>, Lecour. Why should <i>we</i> not make ourselves seigneurs? Who is it +but the merchants who are buying up the seigniories and living in the +manor-houses to-day? That is my plan."</p> + +<p>"Three or four jackasses. Let them be jackasses. I remain François +Xavier Lecour, the peasant."</p> + +<p>"Well, François Xavier Lecour, the peasant, <i>my</i> son, the noble, must +have these livres."</p> + +<p>Her black eyes flashed. "Will you have the poor boy disgraced in the act +of doing you credit? Look at me, unnatural father, and reflect that your +child is to experience from you his earliest wrong."</p> + +<p>Lecour quailed. His powers of spoken argument were not great. He said +nothing, but rose, threw off his coat suddenly, and sat down again.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she exclaimed, angry tears rolling down her cheeks. "Your wife +will sell her wardrobe and her dowry—little enough it was—for my son +shall not want while he has a mother, and that mother owns a stitch."</p> + +<p>It was when it came to meeting clap-trap sentiment that trader's +inferior grain showed, and he faltered.</p> + +<p>"I will go as far as a thousand. It is all it is worth."</p> + +<p>By that word he exposed the small side of an otherwise worthy nature. +She sprang to the attack.</p> + +<p>"<i>Diable!</i> am I linked to a skinflint?"</p> + +<p>"A skinflint, forsooth, at a thousand livres!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she cried in a fresh flood of tears. "A wretch, a miser. You are +unworthy, sir, to be linked to a family from whom Germain takes his +gentlemanly qualities. Had he nothing but you in him, he would be a +grovelling clod-hopper to-day instead of a favourite of kings."</p> + +<p>Lecour laid down his wooden spoon in his pea-soup-bowl. He +phlegmatically took his clasp knife from its pouch, hung round his neck +by a string, struck his blade into the piece of cold pork upon the table +and cut off a large corner, in defiant silence. But his heart was heavy. +It was no pleasure to wrangle with so able a wife. He had no wish to +quarrel. Only, he knew the value of a livre. Germain was really becoming +a shocking expense. He felt that his wife would in the end persuade him +against his better judgment. In truth he liked to hear of his son's +successes, but it went against his prudence. There was to him something +out of joint in the son of a man of his condition attempting to figure +among the long-lined contemptuous elegants who had commanded him in the +army during his youth. The gulf, he felt, was not passable with security +nor credit.</p> + +<p>Just as he was hacking off the piece of pork, a high-spirited black pony +dashed into the courtyard, attached to a calash driven by a very stout, +merry-eyed priest, who pulled up at the doorstep.</p> + +<p>Lecour and Madame at once rose and hurried out to welcome him. At the +same time an Indian dwarf in Lecour's service moved up silently and took +the reins out of the Curé's hands. The latter came joyously in and sat +down.</p> + +<p>"Oho," he cried, surveying the preparations on the table. "My good +Madame Lecour, I was right when I said an hour ago I knew where to stop +at noon in my parish of Répentigny."</p> + +<p>"Father, I have something extra for you this time," she replied +laughing, and crossing to her cupboard, exhibited triumphantly a fine +cold roast duck.</p> + +<p>"You shall have absolution without confession," he cried. "Let me +prepare for that with some of the magnificent pea-soup à la Lecour. Oh, +day of days!"</p> + +<p>She went to the crane at the fireplace, uncovered the hanging pot, and +ladled out a deep bowl of steaming soup. At the same time she told him +excitedly of Germain's presentation at Court.</p> + +<p>"What! what! these are fine proceedings. The Lecours are always going +up, up, up. Our Germain's distinction is a glory for the whole parish. +Lecour here ought to be proud of it."</p> + +<p>Flattery from his Curé weighed more with Lecour <i>père</i> than bushels of +argument. The wife saw her accidental advantage and took it.</p> + +<p>"He does not like to pay for it," she remarked demurely.</p> + +<p>"What! what! my rich friend Lecour. The owner of seventeen good farms, +of three great warehouses, of four hundred cattle, of untold +merchandise, and a credit of 500,000 livres in London, the best payer of +tithes in the country, the father of the most brilliant son in the +province, the husband of the finest wife, a woman fit to adorn the +castle of the governor," cried the ecclesiastic, finishing his soup and +attacking the duck.</p> + +<p>Lecour thawed fast. But he reserved a doubt for the consideration of his +confessor.</p> + +<p>"Is it honest to pass for a noble when one is not one?"</p> + +<p>"I do not see that he has done so. It is not his fault, in the manner +that he has explained it. Let the young man enjoy himself a little and +see a little of life. We are only young once, and you laics must not be +too severely impeccable, otherwise what would become of us granters of +absolution. Furthermore, we must not be too old-fashioned. Our people +here are getting out of the strictness of the old social distinctions. +It may be so too in France. On my advice, dear Lecour, accept every +honour to your family your son may bring, and pay for it in the station +fitted to your great means, that I may be proud of all the Lecour family +when I go to Quebec and boast about my parish at the dinner-table of the +Bishop. Come," exclaimed he, at length, pushing aside his plate with the +ruins of the duck, "bring out that game of draughts, and let us see if +the honours of Germain have not put new skill into the play of a proud +father."</p> + +<p>Madame brought out the checkerboard. She brought besides for the Curé a +little glass of imported <i>eau de vie</i>, and her husband, taking out his +bladder tobacco pouch, commenced to fill his pipe, and that of his +Reverence, and to smoke himself into a condition of bliss.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XIV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE OLD-IRON SHOP</p> + + +<p>An enormous yellow and black coach lumbered and strained along by the +aid of six lean horses, and many elaborate springs, chains and straps, +from Brittany towards Paris. The autumn roads were execrable, for the +rains had been heavy, and the ruts made by the harvest-waggons were +deep. The lateness of the season intensified the deserted look of rural +France. Little else was to be seen along most of the route than rows of +polled trees lining the highway, and here and there an old castle on a +hill, or a <i>commune</i> of a few whitewashed cottages, where the coach +would pull up at the inn and perhaps change horses. The driver and guard +remained the same; but various postillions took charge and then gave up +their charges to others. Travellers of assorted ranks and occupations +got in and out. Of the twelve for whom there were places in the coach +some remained during long distances, some shorter, but only one was +faithful from Brittany to the end. He was a short-statured, country +<i>bourgeois</i>, whose woollen stockings and faded hat gave to him a certain +look of non-importance. Moreover, he was always wrapped unsociably in a +brown cloak, of which he kept a fold over his lower face, and in which +he snored in his corner even when all the others jumped up to escape an +upset.</p> + +<p>After several days the aspect of the country suddenly changed. Immense +woods and parks rendered it even more solitary, yet strange to say the +increased solitude was evidence that the hugest capital in Europe was +near, for these were the hunting domains of the princes of the blood and +great courtiers, which encircled Paris.</p> + +<p>During the night there was another sudden change. The forest solitudes +disappeared, the horses sped forward on fine broad roads; and soon the +coach dashed with a triumphant blast into the lights and stir of +Versailles, crossed its Place d'Armes and turned again into darkness +along the Avenue of Paris.</p> + +<p>At length, in the first grey of morning, it rumbled loudly over a +stretch of cobbled pave, and pulled up at an iron railing inside the +City wall. Here the officers of the municipal customs came out. One of +the first passengers visited was the <i>bourgeois</i>, and his dingy black +box and sleepy expression received exceptionally contemptuous usage.</p> + +<p>"Haste, beast, open it! Dost thou think I have to wait all day? Take +that," and the gendarme struck him a tap on the side with the flat of +his sword.</p> + +<p>For a second the <i>bourgeois</i> seemed another man. He drew up with such an +inhuman gleam in his cadaverous eyes that the customs man drew back.</p> + +<p>"Quick, then, a little," said the latter in something of an apologetic +tone. The short man as rapidly recovered his self-possession. He leered +in a conciliatory way upon the official and pressed a livre into his +palm. The official passed the box through the gate. The coach proceeded +into the City until it arrived at its heart and stopped at the entrance +of that great and wide bridge, the Pont Neuf, the main artery of Paris, +where most of the passengers alighted. They found themselves engulfed +in a yelling multitude of porters, who scrambled for passengers and +baggage as if they would tear both to pieces, which indeed they had no +great aversion to doing.</p> + +<p>The <i>bourgeois</i> singled out a tall man who had mingled in the scrimmage +as if only for his amusement. Cuffing the others aside like puppies with +his long arms, the latter lifted the black box out of the tussle and +started away, followed by its owner. They plunged into that maze of +tall, narrow, medieval streets of older Paris which Méryon loved to +picture before they disappeared in the improvements of Napoleon. They +crossed the Latin Quarter and thence wending eastward, entered finally +the Quarter of St. Marcel, the wretchedest of the city, and came into a +lane named the Street of the Hanged Man; where dilapidated rookeries +leaned across at each other, their upper floors occupied by swarms of +human beings. The <i>bourgeois</i> here stopped alongside his porter and +spoke to him in the tone of an intimate.</p> + +<p>"Is it far now, Hache? It is already some distance from the old place."</p> + +<p>"Here we are; come in quick," replied Hache. He was a bold-looking, +black-haired man, red-faced, unshaven, and battered with the effects of +brandy-drinking.</p> + +<p>They turned into a grimy old-iron shop. A woman sitting in a corner +fixed her eyes upon them like a watch-dog. They stumbled through, +climbed a dark stair, and entered a room where the traveller, without +speaking to a man who lay there on a bench, locked the door, and Hache +dropped the box on the table with a thud, shaking off a cap and bottle +which were on it.</p> + +<p>The man on the bench started at the noise, and got up on his elbow, his +eyes opening with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Great God, the Admiral!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The <i>bourgeois</i> had thrown off his hat, wig, and cloak. He was the +visitor to the cavern of Fontainebleau.</p> + +<p>"It is I, Gougeon," he returned, his death's-head face smiling.</p> + +<p>Gougeon wore the garb of an old-iron gatherer. His countenance was +unkempt, pale, scowling, with black eyes embedded in it, his hair coarse +and long, his mouth hard and drooping. He pushed back the grey <i>tuque</i> +with which his head had been covered, and without readdressing the +Admiral, got up, slowly unwound the cords which bound the black box, and +raised the lid. Hache looked on.</p> + +<p>Gougeon first took out a couple of coarse articles of clothing, and +uttered a grunt. His next grasp brought up a brilliant article of +apparel. He raised it to examine it at the window. The garment shone +even in the meagre light. It was a waistcoat of flowered silk, sown with +seed-pearls. The Admiral stood by, smiling.</p> + +<p>With the other hand Gougeon pulled out and lifted a magnificent +rose-coloured dress-coat with silver buttons.</p> + +<p>Having gazed at them all round and grunted to his own satisfaction and +to that of Hache, he dived again into the box, where he fumbled around a +large lump covered with linen, and at length drew out a shining +article—a golden <i>soleil</i>, or sun-shaped stand for displaying the Host +at the mass. Beside it was a finely embossed chalice of silver. His eyes +and those of Hache were lost in wonder.</p> + +<p>There came just then a tap at the door.</p> + +<p>The articles were whipped back into their box and covered. The woman of +the shop below walked in. All recovered self-possession. She bolted the +door herself.</p> + +<p>Gougeon's mate, who thus appeared among them, was a small woman of about +forty, with the sharp grey eyes of a wild animal.</p> + +<p>The coat and vessels were displayed to her by her husband.</p> + +<p>"Admiral," she said, "where do these come from?"</p> + +<p>The chief seemed to recognise in her a personage equal to himself. He +bowed and said—</p> + +<p>"Madame, the <i>soleil</i> and chalice were the Abbey of Pontcalec's, and +were politely removed for safe-keeping by seven marines of the +Galley-on-land."</p> + +<p>"And this fine waistcoat?" said Madame, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Was one of which the owner had no longer need," he said, looking at +her.</p> + +<p>"Indeed," she returned nonchalantly.</p> + +<p>"It was a troublesome marquis who ventured home one night by a short +cut. He was one of the fellows who does not believe in the necessity of +a poor man living. He saw a fire of ours in the waste, and what does he +do but ride up and over us. Luckily there is no blood on the waistcoat."</p> + +<p>Madame's smile expanded. She looked the article over, picked the +seed-pearls and lace with her little skinny hands, turned out the +pockets, and inspected the flower-pattern of the silk.</p> + +<p>Gougeon held the glittering <i>soleil</i> fast in his hands. He could not +keep his scowling eyes off it. Hache took up the bottle from the floor, +and poured some wine into the chalice, whence he drank it off. Madame +lifted the dress-coat, and inspected it with the same feminine closeness +as the vest.</p> + +<p>"It is a good package," remarked she.</p> + +<p>"You have not seen all," vivaciously replied the Admiral, and diving his +hand into the box he drew forth and opened the black kerchief of the +cave of Fontainebleau. Gougeon's hand snatched the watch of the Prince +de Poix. Hache caught up the chalice, and executed a jig round the room +while drinking it empty; and Madame arranged her neck to great +self-satisfaction with Cyrène's necklace, while the Admiral told with no +small exaggeration the story connected with the plunder.</p> + +<p>"This brings us," he continued, "to the object of my coming. Bec, Caron, +and la Tour, the three taken in the cave, are now in Paris imprisoned in +the Little Châtelet. What can be done for them?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," answered Gougeon.</p> + +<p>"Be still," enjoined his wife, flashing her eyes at him.</p> + +<p>"Were it I, I would go to the galleys and get away just as I did +before," exclaimed Hache.</p> + +<p>"Hache, you have no head."</p> + +<p>"Not so good as yours, wife Gougeon, I admit; but I escaped from the +galleys."</p> + +<p>"To force the guards is impossible," said she speculating. "Who are the +witnesses?"</p> + +<p>"I fear they are out of the question."</p> + +<p>"Who are they?"</p> + +<p>"The Prince de Poix."</p> + +<p>"He will not appear in the matter. It is not like your provincial +tribunals."</p> + +<p>"Several gendarmes."</p> + +<p>"They have their price."</p> + +<p>"Granted; but another remains, a bad one."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"The aristocrat who fell into the cave. He is near us."</p> + +<p>"His name?"</p> + +<p>"Répentigny."</p> + +<p>"I will do what I can. We shall see what the Galley is good for in +Paris."</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE BEGGARS' BALL</p> + + +<p>That evening there was a ball on the flat above. It was refreshingly +democratic. The rag-pickers who lodged with Madame Gougeon and laid the +foundation of her iron business, attended. Thither thronged the beggars, +the knife-grinders, the old-bottle collectors of the neighbouring +rookeries. The crookedest men of Paris, the most hideous women, the +squalidest tatters were on hand. They whirled and jumped furiously in +their unwashed feet; they became almost invisible in the clouds of dust; +the odour sickened, the screeching and jumping deafened one. Bad, but +maddening, wine was drunk in torrents. A man would kick his partner and +the combatants tumble over each other in the midst of an applauding +circle.</p> + +<p>Who were these libels on women, these alleged men, these howling fiends? +They were a driblet of two hundred thousand such wretches who overran +and menaced the city, a product of the dense illiteracy of the time.</p> + +<p>Wife Gougeon entered with the Admiral. They pushed their way to a long +table in the corner where some sots were gambling, and sitting down on +one of the benches around it, she shouted a couple of words to the man +nearest to her, who bolted off into the dust and returned with a +red-nosed beggar.</p> + +<p>"Motte," said she, leering, "are you now on the Versailles roads?"</p> + +<p>"Always," he said sharply.</p> + +<p>"Do your division watch Versailles?"</p> + +<p>"Without ceasing."</p> + +<p>"This is the Admiral."</p> + +<p>"The great Admiral? Of the Galley?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"I salute you, Chief," he said, raising a ragged arm.</p> + +<p>"Have some brandy, Green Cap," the Admiral returned, rapping loudly for +drink, which was brought.</p> + +<p>"We want," said Madame engagingly, "to find a hog called Répentigny at +Versailles."</p> + +<p>The man snatched the bottle from the hand of the <i>garçon</i>, and pouring a +glass off, greedily drank it before replying.</p> + +<p>"I don't know the name. What age is he?"</p> + +<p>"About twenty," the chief said.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know any more about him?"</p> + +<p>The Admiral described him as closely as possible. They took some time in +the conversation. "He ought to be in the company of officers of the +Bodyguard," added he. The beggar by that time was becoming unsteady with +rapid libations. He nodded, dropping his head.</p> + +<p>"Do you understand me?" shouted the Admiral.</p> + +<p>"Répentigny," the other muttered, correctly enough.</p> + +<p>"Can you meet us at the Place d'Armes of Versailles to-morrow?" wheedled +Femme Gougeon.</p> + +<p>He looked at her steadily and nodded deliberately.</p> + +<p>"Is twelve o'clock too early?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head a little.</p> + +<p>"He will assuredly do it," she said to her companion.</p> + +<p>The next second the beggar fell off the bench, dead drunk.</p> + +<p>The following day at Versailles, at the entrance of the Avenue de Paris, +two nuns were seen to stop and give alms to an old bent beggar. A +conversation took place between them, and was interrupted by the +approach of a gendarme.</p> + +<p>"I have found him," was the beggar's whisper.</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"At the Hôtel de Noailles. Am I to kill him?" he asked excitedly.</p> + +<p>"No," said the taller nun.</p> + +<p>The gendarme stepped up towards the beggar.</p> + +<p>"I arrest you for mendicity," he said, just about to lay his hand on his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>The beggar—who bore a red nose—started back with an alacrity +unexpected of so aged a man. He took to his heels, and, with tatters +flying, fled like an arrow from the Avenue.</p> + +<p>The gendarme furiously looked after him. When he turned, the pair of +nuns also had moved on. They were slipping round a corner which led into +a by-street of the old town.</p> + +<p>Versailles, the City of the Court, was then in the height of its +splendour, gay and triumphant. Everything in it looked towards the +Palace of the King, the long and lordly façade of which, with its three +concentric courtyards, faced the great square of the town, the Place +d'Armes; and behind lay those delicious gardens, groves and waters, the +mere remains of which, such as the Tapis Vert, the Basins of Neptune and +Enceladus, the Trianons, and the Orangerie, are marvels even to our day. +Thousands of costumes and equipages made the town a panorama of luxury; +and countless thoroughbreds, of which the King alone possessed more than +two thousand, glistened and curvetted in the streets.</p> + +<p>The neighbourhood of the Palace was naturally that of the aristocracy. +The vast mansions of the Princes of the blood and the Peers of France +were clustered about the sides of the Place d'Armes and the streets +immediately surrounding. One of these was the Hôtel de Noailles. Its +range of buildings, for it surrounded a court, stood at the corner of +the Rues de la Pompe et des Bons Enfans. Behind it were its gardens. +Opposite, on the Rue des Bons Enfans, were the hotels of the Princes of +Condé and the Dukes of Tremouille. The hotels of Luxembourg, Orleans, +and Bouillon faced it on the Rue de la Pompe. The Noailles family were +themselves many times of royal descent. Adjoining the hotel were the +quarters of the Queen's equerries.</p> + +<p>Germain sat in his apartment, watching, over the balcony of one of the +windows, the incessant movement of lackeys, mounted officials, and +carriages on the street near by. Raising his eyes across the gardens of +the Tremouille Palace, he rested them with quickened delight on the +elegant avenues and groves of the royal pleasure-realm, rich in the +golden tones and clear air of an autumn morning.</p> + +<p>In the midst the Basin of Neptune, glittering and shining, and with its +white statues, seemed to inspire him with a happy suggestion, and he +trolled to himself a ballad with a nonsensical chorus, popular in his +native land—</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"Behind the manor lies the mere,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 22%;"><i>En roulant, ma boulë</i>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Three fair ducks skim its water clear.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23%;"><i>En roulant, ma boulë roulant.</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23%;"><i>En roulant, ma boulë.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Three fair ducks skim its waters clear,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">The King's son hunteth far and near.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">The King's son draweth near the lake,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">He bears his gun of magic make.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">With magic gun of silver bright</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">He sights the Black but kills the White.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">He sights the Black but kills the White;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Ah, cruel Prince, my heart you smite."</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>A rap on the door interrupted him. Dominique put his head in, +announcing—</p> + +<p>"A woman, sir."</p> + +<p>"A woman? Young and beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; old."</p> + +<p>"On what errand?"</p> + +<p>"She insists it is business."</p> + +<p>"Let her come in."</p> + +<p>A figure entered dressed in a faded black shawl, a red dress, and a blue +linen apron, and her face shadowed in a hood. She kept back out of the +window-light, and he thought she was in great distress.</p> + +<p>"Madame," he stammered, putting aside his gaiety, and rose.</p> + +<p>"Monseigneur, I supplicate your mercy," she sobbed.</p> + +<p>"My mercy? I do not understand."</p> + +<p>"Your mercy; I supplicate it," she cried in an agonised voice.</p> + +<p>"My good woman, I would never injure you, I protest."</p> + +<p>"I am their mother, sir; I am starving."</p> + +<p>"Whose mother?"</p> + +<p>She represented the prisoners as being sons of hers. When she mentioned +the robbery, he recoiled. As she proceeded, however, he condoled with +her and gave her a piece of money, which she took, expatiating brokenly +on the dependance of her sons' necks on his evidence.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! Monsieur," she concluded, "do you know what it is to take +three lives of poor men? Can you picture what it means to a parent? You +have a heart—you have a God—you have a mother."</p> + +<p>The flood of tears and hysterical sobbing were in the highest art of +expert mendicancy. She advanced towards him, threw herself upon her +knees at his feet, embraced his shoes, and writhed.</p> + +<p>Germain was so shaken that for a moment he had an intention of running +for a cabriolet to take him to Paris to intercede with the magistrates +in the affair. He was about to follow his impulse when a consideration +startled him. He had heard the Prince repeatedly speak with satisfaction +of the capture of the highwaymen. To interfere with the arrests, he saw, +would shock the robbed family; it would banish him, he thought, from the +circle of Cyrène. The question troubled him. In a few moments he decided +it: he must stretch out a hand of mercy to this woman.</p> + +<p>Following the custom among beggars, she watched his countenance +furtively during her appeals, interpreting its changes more accurately +than he himself was doing, and at its last expression her eyes flashed +with triumph.</p> + +<p>"Go; I will help you," he said to her in an agitated voice, and calling +Dominique, added with great courtesy, "See Madame to the gates, and help +her in any way you can."</p> + +<p>But no sooner had she left the chamber than a thought which angered him +came like a flash, and stepping to the door, he called them back.</p> + +<p>"You say these men are your sons?" he said severely, when she had come +into the room; "let me see your face."</p> + +<p>She shrank from him and hid it more deeply in her hood.</p> + +<p>"The man who was a cultivator is forty years of age; you are no more," +he pronounced, "how can you be his mother?"</p> + +<p>A few mumbled words passed her lips, but he did not listen to them.</p> + +<p>"The three are from three different families, three different ranks, +three different Provinces, and yet you have pretended to be the parent +of all of them. You are the parent of none of them, but have come here +to shamefully impose upon my feelings. What you are is a confederate of +the gang. Had you been the woman you have pretended I was ready to make +sacrifices for you, the extent of which you cannot know. But if, instead +of returning sons to a mother, I am to loose again three most dangerous +criminals upon the country, it is a different affair. Be well satisfied +that I do not immediately have yourself convicted as their accomplice." +In his anger he motioned her to be off, and she, dropping the piece of +gold which he had given her, crept away with alacrity, not daring to +venture a word.</p> + +<p>It was only as she passed down through the Prince's halls behind +Dominique that she allowed her fury full possession of her, and as she +glanced about on the evidences of luxury, she gnashed her teeth and +hissed half aloud—</p> + +<p>"Ah, but I would stick your throats, you fat hogs!"</p> + +<p>"What do you say, Madame?" inquired Dominique.</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all."</p> + +<p>Germain threw himself again upon his chair and gave himself up to +misery.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XVI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">BROKEN ON THE WHEEL</p> + + +<p>The prisoners were condemned to death, in the terrible form of breaking +on the wheel. Wife Gougeon and the Admiral returned late on the last +night before the execution to the old-iron shop, dismayed and ferocious. +Her vanity was deeply hurt by the failure of her plan. In the back of +the shop, among piles of horse-shoes, locks, spikes, and bars, a meeting +of the Big Bench of the Galley-on-land was held to decide the course to +be taken. The yellow light of the dip threw their shadows into the +recesses and shed its flicker on their faces. Gougeon sat picking at the +candle-grease in his apathetic way. Hache cheerfully threw himself on a +long box. The Admiral stood wrapped in his cloak, melodramatic as usual.</p> + +<p>Femme Gougeon pushed into the centre.</p> + +<p>"Men, or whatever you call yourselves," she hissed, throwing her grimy +arm into the air, "will you let la Tour, Bec, and Caron die like dogs?" +and her deep-set eyes scintillated from one to the other.</p> + +<p>A sullen silence ensued.</p> + +<p>Finding no reply, she rushed to the window-sill at the rear and took +down an assortment of pike-heads and stilletti, with which were a couple +of pistols. She thrust a dirk or pike-head into the hand of each, but to +the Admiral she gave one of the pistols; the other she kept.</p> + +<p>"There," shrieked she furiously, raising her arm to its full height with +the pistol. "That is what I say about this."</p> + +<p>They were still sullen and reluctant.</p> + +<p>"What have you done, Motte?" the Admiral said, turning to the beggar of +Versailles.</p> + +<p>"I have seen Fouché; he is persuaded an escape is impossible."</p> + +<p>"Who is Fouché?"</p> + +<p>"A prison guard of the Châtelet, and belongs to our Galley."</p> + +<p>"Did you tell him I had the money?"</p> + +<p>"He says money in this case is useless; this is not an ordinary +business; the Lieutenant sees to it in person on account of the King's +interest in it; it is robbery from the person of a Prince, and a crime +against the King on his own lands."</p> + +<p>"Reasons only too clear," reflected the Admiral. "Where will the +execution be?"</p> + +<p>At the mention of the unpleasant word a grimace passed over Hache's +face.</p> + +<p>"On the Place de Grève," Gougeon replied, showing a little interest, "at +eight to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"How many guards will attend them?"</p> + +<p>"Six by the cart, with their officers; and the streets are lined with +the guards of Paris," continued Gougeon.</p> + +<p>"You intend a <i>rescue</i>? Sacre!" vociferated Wife Gougeon. "I will be +there too; they dare not arrest me. Greencaps, I tell you those +white-gills fear us people, and we could kick their heads about the +streets if we all stood together."</p> + +<p>"Death to the hogs!" cried the beggar.</p> + +<p>"Take care," Gougeon grumbled.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, beast?" retorted his amiable spouse.</p> + +<p>"That there are plenty of <i>sheep</i><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> on this street."</p> + +<p>"Curse the <i>sheep</i>!" ejaculated the Admiral. "Go everywhere, all of you, +and rouse the Galley and all ragmen for to-morrow at the Quai Pelletier +at half-past seven. Return here by six sharp."</p> + +<p>By six next morning the Council had returned, and their friends as they +left the door hung about the street corner near by, amusing themselves +by striking the lamp with their sticks.</p> + +<p>At half-past six the Council issued, shouting—</p> + +<p>"To the execution!"</p> + +<p>Hache ran up the middle of the street repeating the cry in his +stentorian voice, so that as he rushed along the dingy houses poured +forth their contents after him like swarms of bees; boys, men, and women +mingling pell-mell, half clothed, unkempt, fierce-mouthed, wild-faced, +ignorant.</p> + +<p>Motte, the beggar, took up the words and sped like the wind up the +narrow side streets and lanes, shouting, "To the execution!"</p> + +<p>Wife Gougeon screamed it. Even her husband opened his malign jaws from +time to time and automatically gave vent to a harsh shout.</p> + +<p>Thus sown, it became a cry springing up everywhere. The whole quarter of +St. Marcel grew alive, and an immense crowd ran together into the +neighbouring square. Little direction was needed to band them into a +marching mob, waving clubs, pikes, and bottles, dancing, quarrelling and +howling, with ribald songs and shouts of "To the execution!" In one +thing they differed notably from a similar crowd in this century, could +such be imagined. Ragged and wretched though they were, they wore +<i>colour</i> in profusion. The mass was a rich subject for the artist.</p> + +<p>Among the women at the front was seen Wife Gougeon brandishing her +pistol. The Admiral and Hache were at her side haranguing the leaders. +Surging along, the demoniac screams of drunken women and the babel of +shouting men, as they approached each new neighbourhood, seemed to stir +it to its depths and to add to the rear a new contingent.</p> + +<p>Thus their numbers swelled at every street, and the excitement increased +to a pitch beyond description. They swept forward by the Rue Mouffetard +and through the Latin Quarter till they reached the broad Boulevard St. +Germain. Turning along the latter through the Rue St. Jacques they +suddenly increased their speed and uproar, and thundered across the +Petit Pont Bridge and Isle of France, and once more across a +bridge—that of Notre Dame—where they saw the Quai Le Pelletier on the +other side lined with a black sea of people. At least a quarter of the +population of Paris were crammed together within the available space +upon the quays and the neighbouring streets along the Seine, from the +towered Châtelet—court-house and prison—some distance below, to the +Place de Grève, some distance above, in front of the Hôtel de Ville. A +line of blue-coated, white-gaitered soldiers on each side kept the space +clear down the centre.</p> + +<p>The people were looking forward to the spectacle of the morning with +intense delight.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile at the prison doors of the Châtelet the three poor wretches of +prisoners were forced into a cart by gendarmes in the sight of the +multitude. A man sat awaiting them in the cart, curled, powdered, +dressed; and perfumed with foppish elegance, and his every motion made +with a dainty sense of distinction. He was the people's hero—the public +executioner. He took in his hands the ends of the rope which hung from +the necks of his victims. Another figure mounted the cart behind them. +It was a priest, who knelt, bent his head, and offered to each of them +the crucifix; and the cart then proceeded slowly along the soldier-lined +streets, accompanied by half a dozen guards carrying their muskets on +their shoulders, bayonetted.</p> + +<p>The emotions meanwhile of the condemned were told in their bearing. +Young Hugues de la Tour stood up, and scornfully refusing the crucifix +of the priest, looked around upon the scene with an air of +irreconcilable indignation. His companions, Bec and Caron, the men who +in the cave had spoken of themselves as ruined, the one by taxes, the +other by the tithe, were more abject, and clutched the crucifix in +despair.</p> + +<p>Comments were shouted freely at the victims. Applause greeted the +demeanour of la Tour, rough raillery the terror of his companions.</p> + +<p>After this manner they jolted painfully along the cobbled paving, down +through the swaying crowd towards the Place de Grève. Though the +distance was not perhaps more than a couple of hundred yards the poor +men underwent ages of tension. When they came to the Quai Le Pelletier, +Hugues heard, as in a dream, a startling stentorian, familiar cry—</p> + +<p>"Vive the Galley!"</p> + +<p>His bloodshot eyes strained towards the place whence it came, and once +more a voice, this time the shriek of a woman, pierced the air—</p> + +<p>"Vive the Galley!"</p> + +<p>The two other prisoners now raised their heads, still dazed and in a +stupor.</p> + +<p>Immediately a third voice, loud and shrill, but instinct with the thrill +of command, took up the words. It was the Admiral, and his third "Vive +the Galley!" was a signal.</p> + +<p>Nine soldiers of the line of troops at the point nearest the prisoners +were simultaneously thrown on the street, and a score of desperate men +had broken into the centre and made a rush for the small guard around +the carts. A cry, rising into a multitudinous commotion of shouts, went +up from the gazing mob, ever on the verge of a tumult. At the same time +there was a resistless swaying on all sides—the two lines of soldiers +gave way for a few minutes, and people far and near rushed into the +middle of the street. The vortex of St. Marcellese, at the Pont Notre +Dame, already filled with winey purpose, pushed forward with a sudden +bound towards their leaders and the death-cart, triumphing over their +old enemies, the gendarmes, and preparing for every excess.</p> + +<p>Femme Gougeon, as leader of a horde of viragoes, was rushing among them +shrieking more fiendishly than ever. While some held down the guard or +wrested away their arms, the prisoners were lifted out of the cart and +began to be hurried along towards the bridge, Bec and Caron struggling +like maniacs with their fetters. The mob had at this moment complete +mastery.</p> + +<p>It lasted only a few seconds. Drums began to beat towards the Place de +Grève. The tocsin bell of the Hôtel de Ville sounded. There was a +shock—a check of the crowd's volitions. A heavy rolling-back movement +took place, and a public roar of fear was heard. People on the edges ran +to shelter, and in a few moments more a volley of musketry sounded down +the street. The crowd broke in all directions. It scattered away as +suddenly as it had risen, and through the clearing smoke the soldiers +could be seen closing up and again preparing to fire in volley. The +prisoners were left in the hands only of the Admiral and Hache.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," cried the latter, urging them to run.</p> + +<p>"Brave men, save yourselves; as for us we are lost," was the reply of la +Tour.</p> + +<p>So Hache and the Admiral disappeared.</p> + +<p>Bec and Caron lay prostrate on the deserted pavement. Hugues stood up +proudly until a musket-ball broke his arm and knocked him over.</p> + +<p>Then the dead and wounded could be counted, scattered over the scene of +the <i>mêlée</i>.</p> + +<p>Sickening it would be to tell in full of the execution which followed.</p> + +<p>The Place de Grève was surrounded by an entire regiment, keeping back +the crowd, who soon, remastered by overpowering curiosity, struggled for +standing room and strained their necks to see. A conspicuous platform +had been erected in front of the Hôtel de Ville. Caron was the first to +suffer. At the order of the executioner he was caught hold of by two +assistants, thrown down, and bound to a large St. Andrew's cross of +plank which lay on the platform. The black-robed confessor knelt down at +his head and held up the crucifix before him, at the same time hiding +his own face by his book and the sleeve of his gown. The executioner +adjusted his wig elegantly, took up and minutely examined his crowbar, +and casting first a coxcomb look at the breathless spectators, brought +the bar into the air with a flourish, and down with a crash on the right +thigh of the poor prisoner. The agonising cry of the helpless man was +drowned in a tremendous outburst of applause from the crowd. When he had +been disposed of in each of his four limbs, Bec was treated in the same +manner. Then the assistants, seizing Hugues, threw him on the cross, +bound him, and the executioner lifted his bar in the air——</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XVII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE SAVING OF LA TOUR</p> + + +<p>Jude, who had the instincts of a Spanish Dominican, kept the closest +watch upon the judicial proceedings against the highwaymen. He was +promptly at the Châtelet at the time of their brief and summary trial, +and procuring a <i>calèche</i>, sped Versaillesward to retail the news to the +Noailles household. Having done so with considerable <i>éclat</i> to her +Excellency, he pictured to himself an entrancing dream—that of awaking +a joyful sympathy between himself and Cyrène through this highly +congratulatory matter. She would smile upon him so divinely, so highly +applaud his zeal, and begin to compare him favourably with that new +butterfly, Répentigny, whose day must thenceforth come to an end.</p> + +<p>It was night before he discovered her whereabouts, for she was at a +ball, accompanying the Maréchale de Noailles, chief lady of honour of +the Queen. The Maréchale was just then occupying the suite of apartments +allotted to her in the Palace, and there Jude waited impatiently until +half-past three before the young widow arrived in her boudoir +accompanied by her maid.</p> + +<p>"You did not expect me here, Madame Baroness," he said.</p> + +<p>"In truth I did not, sir," she replied with cold surprise.</p> + +<p>"I am the bearer of good news to you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Madame was robbed last month at Fontainebleau."</p> + +<p>"And you bring back my jewels, good Abbé?" She began already to seem +more radiant to him than he had dreamed.</p> + +<p>"Not that quite."</p> + +<p>"You mystify me."</p> + +<p>"Madame will remember that three of the villains were caught."</p> + +<p>"And Monsieur de Répentigny has found the others?" she cried, her +countenance lighting again.</p> + +<p>The Abbé's face fell.</p> + +<p>"No, I have more agreeable news."</p> + +<p>"You are too slow, as usual."</p> + +<p>"Complete justice has been done!"</p> + +<p>Her face suddenly turned to motionless marble.</p> + +<p>"You mean on those three men?" she asked, with horror, which surprised +him.</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Their legs will crack this very morning in Paris at eight o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Those living beings whom I have seen, that cruel death!" she cried. +"Where is the Prime Minister? Christ help me!"</p> + +<p>She took no heed of her flimsy, incongruous dress, her fatigue, her need +of sleep. Her soul was overwhelmed with the Christian desire to save, +and in her sudden energy the girl over-awed the reptile before her.</p> + +<p>"Why do you wait, sir?" she exclaimed. "Conduct me to the Minister +instantly!"</p> + +<p>"What, at this hour? In this manner? Does my lady reflect what will be +said to-morrow throughout the town?" he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"You have my command," she answered him, motioning to her maid to +follow.</p> + +<p>Sometimes leading, and sometimes instructed where to go, the Abbé +preceded her through a long maze of chambers and passages, in each of +which sentinels were posted, until they came to the antechamber of +Monsieur de Calonne.</p> + +<p>By good luck, the Minister, like herself, had not yet retired, but was +signing papers.</p> + +<p>His astonishment was unbounded at both her appearance and her agitated +and remarkable request.</p> + +<p>"Baroness," said he, "these men for whom you have such singular though +meritorious sympathy have flagrantly wronged yourself and the King. How +much better are they than the thousands who suffer the same fate every +year under the well-weighed sentences of the bench?"</p> + +<p>"What rends me, sir, is to see human beings die, into whose faces I have +looked."</p> + +<p>"That speaks well for your heart, Madame; but what about the laws?"</p> + +<p>"Are laws just under which three lives are set against a few trinkets?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Baroness, that is the business not of you nor me, but of the +magistrates. You admit at least the guilt of the criminals against +society?"</p> + +<p>"What has society done for these creatures? What have we who live at +ease in Versailles done to make them good citizens? But I cease to +argue, my lord, and know that in doing so I am presuming beyond any +rights I might have. Listen, then, with your good heart—for all France +knows the good heart of Monsieur de Calonne—to the intercession of a +woman for three of her dying, neglected, and miserable fellow-men."</p> + +<p>"They have a fair and powerful advocate," he said, smiling agreeably.</p> + +<p>Calonne no longer resisted her appeal, but wrote the necessary order. +Putting profound gratitude as well as respect into her three parting +curtseys, she flew with it to her chamber.</p> + +<p>"Get me an <i>enragé</i>," she exclaimed to Jude. An <i>enragé</i> was one of +those lean post-horses specially used for quick travel to and from +Paris, a distance they could make in a couple of hours.</p> + +<p>She would trust no one with the Minister's order, but rapidly threw on a +cloak and cap during the absence of the Abbé.</p> + +<p><i>Enragés</i> were generally to be had on short notice day or night, but +this night it seemed as if there were none in all Versailles; her +anxiety and impatience increased, and she paced the room in agony of +mind. At last Jude returned, and announced the vehicle.</p> + +<p>Descending hastily, she stepped into it, still commanding the Abbé to +accompany her. As it rattled forward, she kept her eyes fixed +impatiently upon the face of her watch. Half-past +six—three-quarters—seven—the quarter—the half—at length they were +checked at the Châtelet by the crowd surging and swaying around them, +with the wave-like confusion of the riot, heard the musketry, and +learned from a guard who ran to protect her the cause of the trouble, +and that the execution was about to take place on the Place de Grève.</p> + +<p>Jude, in cowardly terror, fell back in a stupor, but the coachman was of +that Parisian type to whom popular danger was like champagne, and on the +promise of a louis he lashed his foaming horse to the Place de Grève. +The shrieks of the second victim and the shouts and drums informed +Cyrène only too well what was passing. She leaped from the cabriolet, +and rushed for the platform.</p> + +<p>The strange sight of a beautiful Court lady in ball dress, pushing her +way forward in such agitation, had an instantaneous effect on the crowd, +and they opened a way to the centre. Stumbling past them, she threw out +the paper she carried towards the officer-in-command, and fell fainting +at his feet. Hugues de la Tour thus escaped execution.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">MADAME L'ETIQUETTE</p> + + +<p>The Oeil de Boeuf, the famous hall of the courtiers, had a magical +enchantment for Lecour. When he first rested his red-heeled shoes upon +its polished floor, having entered in the train of the Prince de Poix, +the courtiers were awaiting the passing of the King. There were many +faces he had not seen at Fontainebleau, and even those familiar showed +no sign that he was remembered here. The person who stood at his elbow +was an old officer, who had likewise entered with the Prince.</p> + +<p>"I am come from the Province of Saintonge," said he, seeming glad to +unburden his confidences, "and I am at Court to obtain a great honour +for my son, who deserves it—my son, sir, the Chevalier de la Violette, +a very gallant youth. At Saintes, under de Grasse, he led the boarding +of two of our frigates, one after the other, which had been taken by the +enemy, and recovered them both. After the battle, he was taken up for +dead, wounded in eleven places. The deck was literally washed with his +blood. I am positive the thing has only to be mentioned to the King +himself for him to recognise my son's claims and appoint him +sub-lieutenant in the Bodyguard. I seek that for him because of the +great advantages and favours attached to it. The Prince de Poix must +first be induced to recommend him, for the prize is in his company; but +I have had the wit to secure in my favour the Princess's secretary, an +Abbé to whom I have given forty good louis, and who is to have a hundred +more in case of success. The secretary, sir, is very important. What a +shame how these low-born knaves rob us poor nobles, and make officers +and canons. We must, perforce, 'monsieur' them, and salute them a league +off as if they were their masters. The secretary even of the wife is +very important. The secretary is more important than the mistress +nowadays"; and the old officer laughed at his provincial witticism.</p> + +<p>Lecour's eyes fell on a young guard, standing with sword drawn at the +door of the King's antechamber. "How secure is the place of these!" he +sighed to himself; "how insecure is mine!" A friendly voice sounded, and +he noticed Grancey stood before him. "Follow me before the King +arrives," said he. "My service is on the Queen to-day." Germain +followed. The air of mystery, characteristic of the courtiers, seemed +concentrated in their looks towards him as he passed. Their speculations +pieced together his entry with a powerful Prince and his familiarity +with a favoured officer of the Bodyguard; and his pleasing figure was +judged to give him the probability of advancement, to what height in the +royal favour no one could foretell. Those among whom he passed bowed low +to the mysterious fortune of the <i>débutant</i>.</p> + +<p>The door through which they went led into the great Gallery of Mirrors, +a much more vast and beautiful hall than the Oeil de Boeuf. It was the +most attractive, in fact, in the Palace, for its range of long windows +commanded, from the centre of the eminence, the whole view of the +terrace and <i>parterres</i>, which was reflected upon the opposite side by +mirrors lining the walls. Every space, every door-panel here, even the +locks, was each an elaborate work of art. The ceiling was covered with +the great deeds of Louis Quatorze from the brush of le Brun. Antique +statues and caskets of massive silver, mosaic tables of precious stones, +and priceless cabinets, encrusted with the brass and tin-work executed +by the celebrated Buhl, furnished the Gallery.</p> + +<p>Quitting Lecour, de Grancey stepped to the centre, and gave the word—</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen of the Bodyguard, to your posts of honour!" and thus taking +command of the detachment, who were gathered in a corner of the hall, he +entered on his duty of disposing and inspecting them. No sooner was this +completed than a rustling in the Oeil de Boeuf informed them that the +King was passing. Shortly afterwards a noise like thunder was heard, and +the throng of courtiers poured in from the Oeil de Boeuf, and filled the +great Gallery of Mirrors. They had scarcely arranged themselves when +Germain heard a cry of "The Queen!" and beheld the radiant Marie +Antoinette advancing. The beautiful mistress of France passed along in +state with her suite, bestowing on one and another the attention she +considered due, to some a smile, to two or three a curtsey, to many +merely a glance. Noticing the humble worship in Germain's eyes, his face +and the exploit at Fontainebleau came back to her. She stopped, +therefore, as was sometimes her wont, and said graciously, "Monsieur, we +do not forget brave men," passing onward again. Instantly the Court +noticed the event, and exalted him in its esteem accordingly. But before +he could enjoy it, the entire scene was driven temporarily from his +thoughts and became a-whirl about another figure of which in the passing +train he became suddenly aware. It was the cold, impassive, scrutinising +face of an aged dame of such overweening pride and keenness that he +seemed to feel himself pierced through by her gaze. He had heard of the +severity of the Maréchale de Noailles—"Madame l'Etiquette"—Cyrène's +patroness, and knew intuitively that this was she. The danger of his +situation became instantaneously real. The train, accustomed to +confusion, continued their advance. Only then did he notice that in +charge of this old dragon walked Cyrène, her look fixed brightly upon +his face.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XIX</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE COMMISSION</p> + + +<p>Lecour returned to the Hôtel de Noailles overwhelmed with +forebodings—one of those revulsions which come during long-continued +excitement.</p> + +<p>"End the farce, fool," he exclaimed to himself despondently, hurrying to +the quarters of the Princess. She received him "in her bath,"—a +circumstance not unusual and which meant a covered foot-bath and a +handsome <i>déshabillé</i> gown.</p> + +<p>"Madame," he said. An emotion he could not quite hide caused him to +hesitate—"my days at Versailles are ended. I am come to present my +gratitude at your feet for the great kindness your Excellencies have +shown me. Believe, Madame——"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Répentigny, you speak of leaving us?"</p> + +<p>"It is too true."</p> + +<p>"Truth is the only thing I find ill-mannered. Why should you leave us?"</p> + +<p>"Because, Madame, it is my duty."</p> + +<p>"No gentleman should have duties. Are you discontented with Versailles?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary it is the place where I should be most happy."</p> + +<p>"This is a riddle, then. Plainly, you are indispensable to us. Can I +tempt you by some pension, some honour, some office? I have a benefice +vacant, but should dislike to see those locks of yours tonsured. What do +you say to the army?"</p> + +<p>"It is impossible, for me."</p> + +<p>"The army, I say, it shall be."</p> + +<p>"Madame——"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow I will hear your choice concerning this commission—horse, +foot, or artillery?"</p> + +<p>One did not argue with Princesses—partly because Princesses did not +argue with one. He humbly retired, revolving an undefined notion of +flight.</p> + +<p>By chance Grancey entered during the afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Homesick, just at the nick of fortune? Do you know that a +sub-lieutenancy is vacant in my company? Sub-lieutenant, with rank of a +Colonel of Dragoons?"</p> + +<p>"I did not."</p> + +<p>"You must ask for it."</p> + +<p>"That is out of the question, my lord." The gravity and humility of his +demeanour astonished Grancey, who surveyed him quizzically. "Is this a +new <i>rôle</i>, Répentigny, a part from <i>The Unconscious Philosopher</i>? Are +you ill?"</p> + +<p>"I am leaving Versailles."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense."</p> + +<p>"And France."</p> + +<p>"Never!"</p> + +<p>"It is the case."</p> + +<p>"But I have named you for the sub-lieutenancy."</p> + +<p>Lecour looked up; but it was not enough to revive him from so deep a +slough.</p> + +<p>"I must go, Baron."</p> + +<p>"<i>Galimatias!</i> You shall not throw away a commission in the Bodyguard of +the greatest Court in Europe. My brother-officers demand you, and you +must not desert me, your friend—your <i>friend</i>, Germain."</p> + +<p>Germain went over to a window and looked out, to hide the tears with +which his eyes were filling. In the courtyard below a coach had stopped +at one of the doors. Cyrène was entering it. Why was she brought before +him just at that moment. This inopportune glimpse of her cancelled all +reasoning. With fevered sight he watched her till the coach disappeared, +and turning, said eagerly to de Grancey—</p> + +<p>"Is not the Prince's consent required?"</p> + +<p>"You agree!" Grancey cried, embracing him joyfully. "As to the Prince, +comrade," said he, "the sole difficulty is that he will grant anything +to anybody. We must get his signature—for which I admit it is delicate +to ask him—before any other applicant."</p> + +<p>Lecour's pulses sprang back to life.</p> + +<p>"Could the <i>Princess</i> assist us?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Perfect!" cried the Baron.</p> + +<p>Germain returned to her apartment. The Abbé was handing her a paper and +saying—</p> + +<p>"An entirely worthy gentleman, your Excellency, and wounded in several +of the King's victories, as well as of irreproachable descent."</p> + +<p>Germain did not guess until it was too late that this was the petition +of the Chevalier de la Violette.</p> + +<p>She was stretching out her hand to take the pen which Jude passed to +her.</p> + +<p>"Madame," Lecour exclaimed breathlessly, "I have a prayer to make to you +immediately."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur de Répentigny?"</p> + +<p>"For a commission."</p> + +<p>"Delightful."</p> + +<p>"A vacant commission of sub-lieutenant in the company of the Prince."</p> + +<p>She dropped the pen in wonder and looked at the Abbé Jude, whose face +turned sickly.</p> + +<p>And so Germain obtained a great position.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of form," said Major Collinot, the Adjutant of the +Bodyguard, at headquarters, "Monsieur de Répentigny of course proves the +necessary generations of <i>noblesse</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Here is the herald's attestation, sir," replied Germain, producing that +which Grancey's intercession had obtained for him at Fontainebleau.</p> + +<p>Doubly past the strictest tests of ancestry and reassured in boldness he +was now ready even to play cards with the dread Maréchale de +Noailles—her who it was reported once said, "That although our Lord was +born in a stable yet it must be remembered St. Joseph was of royal line +and not any common carpenter."</p> + +<p>The pomp and glitter of the new life appealed immensely to the youthful +instincts of the Canadian. The Baron detailed to his fascinated listener +the composition, privileges, and duties of the Gardes—</p> + +<p>"We are thirteen hundred, Répentigny, in four companies—the Scotch, the +Villeroy, the Noailles, and the Luxembourg, each over three hundred +persons; we relieve each other every three months. Just now it is the +turn of our company of Noailles. Of the three months, each man spends +one on guard at the Palace, one at the hunting-lodge, and one at +liberty; after that we withdraw to towns some distance apart, those of +the Noailles company to Troyes in Champagne." He told with pride of what +good stature and descent it was necessary to be to be received, how +keenly sought after even the commissions as privates were, hence the +fine picked appearance of the body. He dilated on the various +instruments and startling costumes of his company's band; on the style +of their horses and the magnificence of their reviews and parades; on +the superiority of the pale blue cross-belts which distinguished them, +over the silver and white ones of the Scotch company, the green of the +Villeroys, the yellow of the Luxembourgs. These differences, he +asserted, were the greatest distinctions under the sun.</p> + +<p>Let us in our colder blood add to his description that each of these +companies consisted of one captain, one adjutant, two +lieutenant-commandants of squadron, three lieutenants, ten +sub-lieutenants, two standard-bearers, ten quartermasters, two +sub-quartermasters, twenty brigadiers or sergeants, two hundred and +eighty guards, one timbalier, and five trumpeters. Germain studied the +roll with great interest.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XX</a></h3> + +<p class="c">DESCAMPATIVOS</p> + + +<p>Winter passed. The company of Noailles returned from its quarters at +Troyes to Versailles. Whatever he did, his passion for Cyrène coloured +every thought and scene with an artist's imposition of its own +interpretations. The world in which she dwelt was to him a vision, a +poem, a garden.</p> + +<p>A change had, it is true, come over his character; he became more +desperate, but if was only because the deeper had become this affection. +The incident of the reprieve of la Tour, which had meanwhile reached +him, sank deeper into his heart than the whole round of his pleasures, +and made him anxious for the moment when he might again meet her.</p> + +<p>The society in which he found himself flying, like one of a tribe of +bright-plumaged birds in a grove full of song, centred around the Queen. +Marie Antoinette constantly sought refuge with her intimate circle from +people and Court at the gardens and dairy of the Little Trianon, in the +Park of Versailles, where it was understood that ceremony was banished +and the romps and pleasures of country life were in order.</p> + +<p>In the month of June Lecour received a command to a private picnic here. +It was the highest "honour" he had as yet attained. As a Canadian he +had paid his respects in the beginning to the Count de Vaudreuil. The +latter was the leader in the pastimes of the Queen's circle, a handsome +and accomplished man, and one of social boldness as well as polish. +Though in his successes at Court he affected to forget that he was of +Canadian extraction, he yet evinced an interest in Lecour on that +account and showed courtesy to him. When the Count therefore one day +heard the Queen refer with favour to the graceful Guardsman, he added +him to the next list of invitations.</p> + +<p>The guests, about forty, all approved by Marie Antoinette, included +members of both the rival sets at Court. The young Duchess of Polignac, +a simple, pleasant woman whom the liking of the Queen had alone raised +to importance, was there with several of her connections and friends. +The Noailles family, with its haughty alliances, its long-standing +greatness, and its contempt for those new people the Polignacs, was to +be chiefly represented by the amiable young Duchess of Mouchy, who came +late.</p> + +<p>No picnic could have been more free and easy. The Queen herself looked a +Venus-like dairymaid in straw hat and flowered skirt, and it was +announced that the game of the afternoon should be that called +"Descampativos." The guests trooped like children from the Little +Trianon to a sequestered spot where lofty woods combined to cast a Druid +shade upon the lawn. Here Vaudreuil was elected high priest.</p> + +<p>Assuming a white robe and mock-heroic solemnity, and standing out in the +centre of the grass, he sang forth in a strikingly rich voice—</p> + +<p>"Let us raise an altar to Venus the goddess of these groves."</p> + +<p>Four attendants, moving quickly forward in response, carrying squares of +turf, piled them into an altar as rapidly as possible. The party +arranged themselves in a quadrangle around it.</p> + +<p>The altar being completed, Pontiff Vaudreuil proceeded with the mystery +thus—</p> + +<p>"Listen, dryads and demi-gods, to the oracles of the divinity. The +decree of Aphrodite hath it that for the space of one hour there shall +be fair amity between——" Here he named the company off in pairs, +carefully pre-meditated. As pair after pair were called, they stepped +forward on the lawn amid a chorus of laughter, and swelled a procession +facing the priest and altar.</p> + +<p>Lecour wondered as he saw the remaining number dwindle, who should be +paired with himself. Strict rules of precedence he knew would govern it. +At length, to his astonishment, he heard the words—</p> + +<p>"Madame la Baronne de la Roche-Vernay, and Monsieur de Répentigny."</p> + +<p>He looked hastily around.</p> + +<p>It was then that two ladies were seen hurrying into the arena from the +direction of the Trianon. One was the Duchess de Mouchy; the other, of +the same age and dressed in a simple cloud of white tulle, came behind +her, and Germain, as if in an apparition, saw his Cyrène. Her obeisances +to the Queen and company over, she turned and courtesied very deeply to +her lover, who trembled with delight under her smile.</p> + +<p>He was quickly recalled by the voice of de Vaudreuil, this time crying—</p> + +<p>"Her Majesty of France, and her Majesty's servant and subject the High +Priest of the goddess."</p> + +<p>It was the invariable custom of the ambitious and confident courtier to +appropriate the Queen to himself.</p> + +<p>Pausing at the close, he raised his arm ritually towards the trees and +rested thus a moment speechless.</p> + +<p>"Descampativos!" he suddenly exclaimed in a stentorian tone, throwing +off his robe.</p> + +<p>At the word, the pairs broke ranks, the ladies screamed with merriment, +and all the pairs scampered into the woods in different directions to +follow what paths might suit them, bound only by the rule of the game to +return in an hour.</p> + +<p>Germain and Cyrène strayed from the others into the groves, until the +voices grew fainter and fainter and at last died away. They walked on +without finding any necessity of speaking, for their glances and the +ever sweet pang of love in their breasts sufficed. At last they found a +little space with a fountain where the water spurted up in three jets +out of the points of a Triton's spear, and there being a seat there, +they took it, sat down, and looked in each other's eyes.</p> + +<p>"My love," he whispered, kissing her cheek.</p> + +<p>"Germain," breathed she slowly, her fair breast heaving, and suddenly +threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. Sweet, sweet, +sweet, were the moments of their supreme bliss.</p> + + +<p class="img"><img src="images/i002.png" alt="image: The House of the Golden Dog" /><br /> +<span class="smcap">The House of the Golden Dog</span><br /> +<i>From the model by Thomas O'Leary in McGill University.</i></p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE SHADOW OF THE GOLDEN DOG</p> + + +<p>Two old marquises sat together in a parlour in Paris.</p> + +<p>"Bring us the best wine in the house," exclaimed one of them, a bronzed +and dried soldier in a maroon coat, waving his hand to his lackey, who +responded and disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," continued the soldier, turning to his friend, "could be too +good for my schoolmate Lotbinière. Here are two chairs worthy of us, +generals among this spindle-shanked regiment. Sit down in that one while +I draw up here opposite. Throw off the wigs; there. We shall see now how +much of each other remains after our long parting. In India I never wore +a wig except to receive the Maharajah."</p> + +<p>"Excellent, Pierre! There goes mine. Let us sit back and talk ourselves +into the good old days when you and I were youngsters."</p> + +<p>"And a French king ruled Canada."</p> + +<p>"And the French regiments marched its soil. Do you remember the hot +morning we stood hand in hand watching the Royal Rousillons wheel into +the Place d'Armes in front of the church?"</p> + +<p>"How old were we then?"</p> + +<p>"I was eleven; it was my birthday. Don't you remember?"</p> + +<p>The wine came in and was set on a little table. The first speaker opened +a bottle and poured out two glasses.</p> + +<p>Pierre le Gardeur, Knight of St. Louis, Brigadier-General, Governor of +Mahé and Marquis de Répentigny—for this was he—was a tall, spare man +whose complexion the suns of the tropics had browned, whose hair was +whitened with foreign service, and whose blue eyes and sensitive, +handsome features wore a strange, settled look of melancholy. Evidently +some long-standing sorrow threw its shadow over his spirit.</p> + +<p>His friend, the Marquis de Lotbinière, was a person of much more worldly +aspect, of largish build and beginning to incline to flesh, but whose +dark eyes were steady with the air of business capability and +self-possession. The care and finish of his dress and manner showed +pronounced pride of rank—a kind of well-regulated ostentation. His +family were descended from the best of the half-dozen petty gentry in +the rude, early days of the colony of his origin. He had by his ability +become engineer-in-chief under Montcalm. Yet from the point of view of +the Versailles nobility—the standard he himself was most ambitious to +apply—he was but an obscure colonel, and his title a questionable +affair. He acquired it in this wise.</p> + +<p>At the fall of New France the last French Governor, Vaudreuil, passed +over to Europe and sold out his Canadian properties. De Lotbinière, who +remained, bought them for a song, including the château in Montreal and +several large seigniories, chiefly wild lands, but growing in value. In +the original grant of one of them to the Marquis de Vaudreuil, he found +that it had been intended as a Canadian marquisate, an honorary +appellation, however, which the Vaudreuils never pursued any further. +This lapsed marquisate of the former proprietors gave Lotbinière his +idea; proprietor of a marquisate, he ought to be a marquis. He +determined to find some way of procuring the title for himself. He +visited Paris as much and long as possible, and, by various devices, +kept his name and services before the War Office. During the American +Revolution he conceived the project of secretly negotiating with the +Revolutionists for the re-transfer of Canada to the French. He persuaded +the War Office to permit him to try his hand in the matter without +publicly compromising Versailles, and received, on pressing his request, +an equivocal grant of the coveted title, to be attached to his Canadian +seigniory, <i>but only if held of the Crown of France, and not of any +foreign power</i>. His secret negotiations at Washington failed and were +never heard of. He nevertheless called himself Marquis.</p> + +<p>The two gentlemen were united by relationship, for besides the +inextricable genealogical links which bound together the chief families +of the colony, each had espoused a daughter of the Chevalier Chaussegros +de Léry, king's engineer, an excellent gentleman, who, like de +Lotbinière, had returned to Canada after its cession and become a +subject, a truly loyal one, of the English Crown.</p> + +<p>"I expect our good nephew, Louis de Léry, here in a few minutes," said +Répentigny. "He is in the Bodyguard, his father wrote."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the company de Villeroy—a fine position."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what the boy is like. Has he grown up tall like the de Lérys?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he does them credit, is very distinguished looking, with an air +which does not allow everybody to be familiar. Some call Louis cold, but +we <i>noblesse</i> ought to have a little of that."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Lotbinière, none of it to white men. Not even to blacks and +coolies, but certainly none of it to white men."</p> + +<p>"You speak from India where all French naturally are high-caste."</p> + +<p>A look of pain came over Répentigny's features.</p> + +<p>"No, Michel, that is not the reason. Alas! I once despised a man of +lower degree. My God, how could I do it again!" And his head dropped +upon his breast in profound dejection.</p> + +<p>Lotbinière started and paused, looking at him with great sympathy, a +cruel old remembrance awaking.</p> + +<p>"By the curse of heaven, I have never forgotten it," continued the +other.</p> + +<p>"Stay, stay," said Lotbinière, leaning over and softly laying a hand on +his arm, "you were blameless; young blood was not to be controlled."</p> + +<p>"It haunts me for ever," Répentigny went on; "in my wanderings all +around the world I see the blood of poor Philibert. I see again that +steep street of old Quebec. I hold again in my hand the requisition for +his rooms. I see the anger on his face, high-spirited citizen that he +was, that I should choose me out the best in his house and treat its +master as I did. I feel again my inconsiderate arrogance swelling my +veins. I hear his merited reproaches and maledictions. Rage and evil +pride overpower me, I draw and lunge. Alas! the flood of life-blood +rushes up the blade and warms my hand here, <i>here</i>."</p> + +<p>"Calm yourself."</p> + +<p>"He follows me."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Pierre. No one is present," exclaimed Lotbinière in a tone of +decision.</p> + +<p>"Philibert's son. I met him in Quebec before I fled to France. I met him +in Paris before I fled to the East. I met him in Pondicherry. He settled +near me in Mahé. Now he is in Paris again. It is dreadful to be +reminded of your crime by an avenger. My death, when it comes, will be +by his hand, Michel."</p> + +<p>"Have no fear. In twenty hours we can have him safe in a place whence +such as he never come out."</p> + +<p>"That would be more terrible still. Shall I further wrong the wronged? +God would be against me as well as remorse. No, when he strikes it will +be just. I do not fear his sword, but the memory of his father's blood, +and that would grow redder on my hand if I injured the son. Oh, Michel, +is the Golden Dog still over the door of Philibert's house in Quebec?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Pierre; forget these things. Take a glass of wine."</p> + +<p>"I remember its inscription"—</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"<i>I am a dog gnawing a bone:</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;"><i>In gnawing it I take my repose.</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;"><i>A day will come which has not come,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;"><i>When I will bite him who bit me.</i>"</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Philibert, the son, has cut the same on his house at Mahé."</p> + +<p>"There, there, we must be bright when young Louis comes."</p> + +<p>"With you too, good Michel, I should be brighter. Well, I have spoken of +my sorrow for the first time in years, and now I feel freer. Yes, the +wine is good, better than any they ship to India."</p> + +<p>Répentigny and Lotbinière had just begun to regain their composure when +Louis de Léry entered.</p> + +<p>He wore the uniform of the Gardes-du-Corps, the same as Germain's +company, except that his cross-belt, instead of being of pale blue silk +was of green, the distinguishing mark of the company of Villeroy, of +which he was a private. But then it must be remembered that with his +commission of private in the Bodyguard went the rank and prerogatives of +a lieutenant of cavalry.</p> + +<p>On crossing the threshold he stood poised perfectly, and and bowed a bow +which was a masterpiece. His greetings, though so painfully accurate, +were obviously cordial, and after the first were over he smiled and +said—</p> + +<p>"I now, sir, do myself the additional honour of presenting to you my +felicitations upon the happy event which has doubtless brought you to +Paris."</p> + +<p>"Dear nephew, it is the serious state of our possessions in India, owing +to the advances of the English there, that brings me to France. Perhaps +I misunderstand."</p> + +<p>"I mean, sir, the addition to our family alliances of a Montmorency."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I am unaware of such a distinction. Pray inform me. I have so +lately arrived."</p> + +<p>"Is it so lately, sir, that you have not heard of the forthcoming +marriage of your son, my cousin, with Madame the Baroness de la Roche +Vernay? Pardon, if you please, my surprise."</p> + +<p>"Still more mysterious to me! Of a certainty, my son Charles, your +cousin, is at this moment with his vessel and the Biscay fleet off the +coast of Portugal. I do not understand the chance which can have brought +him to Paris, however much I desire it, nor his alliance to any one +here, for I saw him in person three weeks ago at Lisbon, where he never +made the slightest reference to any such matter. There is some mistake, +I am certain."</p> + +<p>"Is he not the only Chevalier de Répentigny?"</p> + +<p>"There, can be but one of the name. It is rare."</p> + +<p>"Has he not been lately appointed to a lieutenancy in the King's +Bodyguard, company of Noailles?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible. I left him captain of the ship <i>La Minerve</i>. He has not, I +regret to say, the influence to become an officer of the Bodyguard."</p> + +<p>"This is something strange," remarked the Marquis de Lotbinière. "Did +you inquire who this officer was? Suppose, Répentigny, he should be some +distant relative of yours: he might be an addition to our influence at +Court. An officer of the Bodyguard, if we can claim him as a relative, +would be better than any alliance we possess, except Vaudreuil, who does +nothing for us."</p> + +<p>"There can be no harm in Louis making inquiries."</p> + +<p>"I will call upon him. Trust <i>me</i> to find some connection and make use +of it."</p> + +<p>"Are you still the marvel you were at genealogies, Michel!"</p> + +<p>"Genealogy is a power. Louis, I am interested in this new relative. Can +you tell us more about him? Do you know his Province?"</p> + +<p>"He is said to be a Canadian."</p> + +<p>"A Canadian! Does he say so himself?"</p> + +<p>"So report goes."</p> + +<p>"Astonishing. How could any Canadian but de Vaudreuil—who owes it to +his exceptional gifts—acquire such influence?"</p> + +<p>"They say this Sieur de Répentigny is extraordinarily handsome and +agreeable."</p> + +<p>"But his name! There are so few Canadian families, you can almost count +them on your fingers—Fleurys, Bleurys, de Lérys, de Lanaudières, le +Gardeurs, le Moynes, Beaujeus, Lotbinières, la Cornes, Salaberrys, and +so forth. Can he be of these? He is not a le Gardeur, who alone in +Canada could have a right to the appellation 'Répentigny.' Have you +heard his family name?"</p> + +<p>"He calls himself 'Le Cour de Répentigny.'"</p> + +<p>The Marquis quitted his tone of alert judicial inquiry, and thundered +out, like a criminal prosecutor—</p> + +<p>"Heavens, I have it!"</p> + +<p>"What, Uncle."</p> + +<p>"He is an <i>impostor</i>. No Canadian named Lecour can be what he +pretends—nay, not even a petty gentleman, for I know the whole list by +heart to its obscurest members. No Lecour whatever is on it. Who of that +name is at Répentigny? Only the merchant of St. Elphège, my old +<i>protégé</i>. Can it be any of his people! What is the appearance of this +fellow?"</p> + +<p>"He is about middle height, cheerful, graceful, hair and eyes black."</p> + +<p>"It is that well-looking boy of Lecour's—no other. His father would +kill himself if he heard of his son duping the highest circles of +Versailles. Poor man, he was the least of the very least when I knew him +first—a private in my corps. I made him keeper of the canteen. How can +the son of such a one be more than a 'pea-soup.' What insolence and +folly! He shall learn that this kind of rascality is not permitted by +the nobles of France. Beast! animal!"</p> + +<p>"See that you make no mistake, Michel. If he is only some foolish young +Canadian, would not a private monition be well?" said Répentigny.</p> + +<p>"There is no mistake," answered Lotbinière, decidedly. "As for lenient +dealings, do you think that is the way to keep down the lower classes? +The strong hand and the severe example are the only guarantees of social +order."</p> + +<p>The irate Marquis rose from his chair and paced the room.</p> + +<p>"Villain! The thought of him drives me beyond myself."</p> + +<p>De Léry said little, but noted every word of his uncle's statement, and +it slowly took shape in his mind in a steel-cold deadly contempt for +Lecour.</p> + +<p>The true Répentigny alone, his nature long purified of pride, felt no +malice nor indignation against this usurper of his name.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE SECRET OUT</p> + + +<p>Louis Réné Chaussegros de Léry, that model of blue-blooded elegance, was +not the person to encourage any plebeian in basking in the smiles of +aristocratic society. There was an inflexible honour in him, as well as +pride, which was desperately shocked by the contrivings of Lecour. He +therefore detailed the story, without any heat but without any mercy, to +the mess-table of the company of Villeroy.</p> + +<p>Two or three mornings later, Dominique came into Germain's sitting +chamber at Troyes and taking up his Master's service sword looked +closely at it as if to examine the polish on the goldwork. Such was his +custom when he had something special to say. Dominique's pieces of +information were invariably valuable. Germain therefore looked up from +the comedy he was reading and gave attention. Dominique related briefly +the rumour just come from Châlons: A Guardsman of the Noailles had +related it to a comrade in the presence of his servant, and the servant +had hurried to communicate it, with many questions, to Dominique.</p> + +<p>Germain paled, yet only for an instant. He laughed at the Auvergnat, who +snorted apologetically—</p> + +<p>"As if Monsieur <i>looked</i> like a pedlar!"</p> + +<p>"This is a righteous punishment for being born far away, Dominique," he +exclaimed; "all colonials must be either mulattoes or cheats; the next +time I am born it shall be in Châlons."</p> + +<p>There was no parade that day on account of a <i>fête</i>.</p> + +<p>He dressed himself in exactly as leisurely fashion as he had previously +intended and ordered a hack-horse to take him to Versailles. So far he +was acting; the world and Dominique his imaginary audience.</p> + +<p>Only when he got out of Troyes and, having left the beautiful old +Gothic-cathedralled town some distance behind, was speeding along the +high-road, did he, for the first time, feel himself sufficiently alone +to face his thoughts. With a great rush of vision he seemed to see the +whole world of mankind rising against him—in its centre the form and +face of a scornful courtier—<i>the</i> Répentigny, withering his pretensions +by one contemptuous glance, to the applause of the Oeil de Boeuf. He saw +the look of Madame l'Etiquette, the ribaldry of acquaintances at +Versailles, the studious oblivion of the Princess de Poix, d'Estaing, +Bellecour, and even Grancey; the mess-table derisive over the career of +the pseudo-noble; Major Collinot striking his name from the list of the +company; his arrest by Guardsmen disgusted at having to touch him; the +stony visages of the court-martial; the Bastille; the oar and chain of +the galleys. Truly they made no pleasant fate. Behind these, a white +figure, veiled in a mist of tears, at whose face he dared not +look—deceived by her knight, contaminated by his disgrace, her vision +of honour shattered, heart-broken, desolate, forbidden to him for ever +by the law which changeth not, of outraged caste.</p> + +<p>"Alas! that it all should lead to such an end," he murmured.</p> + +<p>By evening he was in Paris, and mechanically went to his old lodgings +where he tried to compose himself. A supper was brought which he left +unnoticed on the table. From time to time he would rise and walk about +the room, feverishly revolving events and fears.</p> + +<p>"And these people," he exclaimed, "will dare to say that I am of a lower +nature than they. In what am I not noble? in what not their equal? Have +they not, for an entire year, approved of me, deferred to me, imitated +me? What is this miserable <i>noblesse</i>? Have I not seen that it is the +greatest boors that have the most claim to it. If it consists in +antiquity, where are the ancient gentry?—a remnant of pauper ploughmen +rotting on their driblets of land. If it lies in title, what is so +divine in the rewarded panderers to some unclean King? If it is +genealogy and parchments, with what mutual truth do they not sneer away, +and tell their tales upon, each other's lying pedigrees? In what sense +am I less well-made, less brave, nay, less truthful, than that cringing +rout at Versailles? Yes, all of you! the unbreakable word of my old +father encloses more real nobility than the entirety of your asinine +struts and proclamations? We shall see, too, whether <i>noblesse</i> is +necessary to courage, for here and now I defy you all and all your +powers!"</p> + +<p>A knock interrupted. It was the <i>concierge</i>, who handed him a card. +Without looking at it, Lecour replied—</p> + +<p>"Tell him I am ill and cannot be seen."</p> + +<p>The words upon the card might well have produced his answer. When the +door was shut he glanced at it, started, and held it in his hands, +fascinated by apprehension. It read—</p> + +<p>"Le Marquis de Chartier de Lotbinière."</p> + +<p>In the name he recognised that of his father's patron.</p> + +<p>"It is clear I must leave this place," thought he; and then it flashed +upon him that de Lotbinière must have intended to call on <i>the other +Répentigny</i>.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he would lodge here. Without doubt the reason this is de +Bailleul's resort is that it is a meeting-place for Canadians."</p> + +<p>Putting on his hat and cloak he went down to the entrance, and in +passing out said as if casually to the <i>concierge</i>—</p> + +<p>"Has the Marquis de Répentigny entered yet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," the man returned.</p> + +<p>Germain started out into the night, not knowing where to go. It was +about nine o'clock and dark overhead, but the narrow towering streets of +old Paris possessed a rude system of lighting and the life at least of a +great city, so that he felt less lonely than in his rooms, and walked on +and on for several hours.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE EXECUTIONER OF DESTINY</p> + + +<p>Lorgnette in hand, Cyrène was sitting in the music chamber of the Hôtel +de Noailles, scanning the bars of a sheet of music sent her by her +suitor. Near by was the harpsichord on which she was about to try it, +when it seemed to her that a screen beside her trembled. Glancing for an +instant at it she was reassured. Almost immediately, however, it again +shook and fixed her attention, but after watching it for a few moments +and seeing no repetition, she once more turned away, satisfied that she +had been mistaken. Then suddenly she became aware that a man was +standing beside her, sprang to her feet and would have screamed had his +attitude not been so deferential.</p> + +<p>He was dressed entirely in black, of the best materials and Paris cut; +his age was over fifty, and his features well made, but pinched and of +an ashen tint. His expression of strange woe roused her sympathy and +quieted her fears.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" she said.</p> + +<p>He took no notice of her words.</p> + +<p>"Are you la Montmorency," he asked, "the <i>fiancée</i> of the Guardsman?"</p> + +<p>"This is a strange question," she exclaimed. "How does it concern you, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"Deeply, deeply. These are matters of life and death."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Do not fear, your lover is safe. I could have killed him, but did not."</p> + +<p>She became roused and agitated, and the thought flashed upon her that +the man might be a maniac.</p> + +<p>"You would not," she said, trying to reason with him, "have injured +anyone so good and inoffensive as Monsieur de Répentigny?"</p> + +<p>"Répentigny!" he cried. "It is because he bore that name that I tracked +him to Troyes. It was a Répentigny who slew my father, and blessed was +the light of the street lamp which showed me your lover was none of that +brood."</p> + +<p>"You would have killed him, you say?"</p> + +<p>"I was to do so, but it was by mistake."</p> + +<p>"Who are you, then?" she inquired with the greatest earnestness.</p> + +<p>"The Instrument of Vengeance. Do you hear it?" he continued, as if +listening. "The Voice of Vengeance in the distance, approaching, +approaching, calling, calling? Nearer, year by year, month by month, day +by day, hour by hour, moment by moment, until when it reaches my side I +shall slay my enemy. When he fled to the farthest Indies, there he found +me; now he is in Paris, and finds me here; wherever he goes he has found +me. He knows his fate. He knows that I am the Instrument of Vengeance, +that a day shall come that has not come, that this hand is the hand of +heaven, and this sword the sword of the Almighty."</p> + +<p>"You say he slew your father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, thrust him through on the steps of our house—the House of the +Golden Dog."</p> + +<p>"What was your father's name?"</p> + +<p>"The Bourgeois Philibert, of Quebec."</p> + +<p>"And who do you say killed him?"</p> + +<p>"Répentigny."</p> + +<p>"But not my Germain!" she exclaimed eagerly and positively.</p> + +<p>"No, he is none of that spawn of evil."</p> + +<p>"You will bear him no ill-will at any time then?" she pleaded.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, he is now on my side. They are his enemies too."</p> + +<p>"<i>Who</i> are his enemies?"</p> + +<p>"The Répentignys; but fear not, Mademoiselle, he is far superior to +them. He shall triumph and prevail, for I shall keep him, and heaven has +appointed me its Instrument. Nothing they do can prevail against me and +our side."</p> + +<p>"Why do you say they are his enemies? They are not always enemies who +carry the same name."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I see you know not <i>this</i> name," he said with grave +courtesy; "I see you know not <i>this</i> name—this name of sorrow, this +name of blood—my father's blood—alas! alas! alas! alas!" and his voice +trembled with infinite dolor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor man," she cried, weeping. "I pity you."</p> + +<p>He turned upon her a dazed glance, a glance out of a mind absorbed in an +unspeakable grief, and returning into his absorption, left the room.</p> + +<p>She had been so keenly excited from instant to instant by the statements +of Philibert that she had not checked the interview. Apart from her pity +for him, the safety of Germain was the single issue of her thoughts, and +it was with alarm that she sat down and put together her impressions on +that subject. The mixture of woe with triumph on Philibert's countenance +affected her powerfully, and the words, "You know not this name of +sorrow, this name of blood," troubled her. The vengeance, the killing, +the family feud, to which he referred, what were they all? "Oh, +Germain," she thought, continuing to weep, "some heavy cloud is hanging +over you."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the scandal had spread to several circles in Versailles, and +was lit upon by the Abbé Jude, who, too happy to contain himself, ran to +Cyrène and invented an order to her from the Princess to attend in her +chamber; and when he had led her into the presence of her Excellency, he +addressed the latter—</p> + +<p>"Madame has of course heard the new tale?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Something fresh this morning, Abbé? Who does it concern?"</p> + +<p>"Not the great Monsieur, the Prince, my lady, but a Monsieur of much +nearer acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? Monsieur Who, then? How interesting! Make no delay."</p> + +<p>"The difficulty precisely is to say Who, Madame; but it is he who +<i>calls</i> himself Monsieur de Répentigny. There is in Paris at this very +instant a <i>real</i> Monsieur de Répentigny—no relation to our one—who is +publicly declaring our Canadian to have stolen his title, and to be +nothing less than a cheat."</p> + +<p>He gave a malicious look at Cyrène, who turned pale and caught at a +chair. However, the great lady herself intervened.</p> + +<p>"Stop, Abbé; stop, sir. This time you pass the bounds permitted you. How +dare you come into the presence of a Princess inventing such slanderous +monstrosities against your superior. A nephew, sir, of the Chevalier de +Bailleul, acknowledged by him as such to myself in his own château, is +above the aspersions of a contemptible plebeian. Let this be a lesson to +you, and never dare again to enter my sight. Footmen, conduct him out +of my presence and service. No reply! I am irrevocable in this."</p> + +<p>"What is the commotion I heard?" exclaimed Madame l'Etiquette, entering +just after the reader's expulsion.</p> + +<p>The Princess told her of Jude's insolent assertion.</p> + +<p>"It is a serious matter. As likely as not it is true," Madame said, and +looked severely at Cyrène.</p> + +<p>"I know it to be a falsehood," the latter retorted, with fiery +quickness. "Those people are his enemies. I have it on the word of an +honest man and a Canadian."</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">A CURIOUS PROFESSION</p> + + +<p>It so happened that about midnight Germain crossed the Seine by the +Petit-Pont, a bridge not so public as the Pont-Neuf, and, regardless of +the robberies always occurring, plunged among the crooked streets of the +Latin Quarter. He had not walked far before a carriage, driving swiftly +away from a small lane or passage, attracted his notice. At the bottom +of the passage was a door having a lamp over it; upon the lamp some +letters and a device. He stopped and read—</p> + +<p class="c"><br /> +<span class="smcap">"Mtre. Gilles,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Genealogist."</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>The street in which he stood was a small cross street. He walked on and +left it, but the lamp, the inscription and the carriage haunted him like +one of those things which so often takes part in our reasoning before we +see its drift. All at once it became clear, he clutched at the hope, +retraced his steps to the small street, arrived at the passage, and went +up it to the door. The genealogist himself, a little red-faced man with +an agreeable air, a brown periwig, and a smart suit of black Lyons' +silk, was taking in his sign and preparing to put out the light in it.</p> + +<p>"An instant, Monsieur Gilles," said Lecour, stopping him.</p> + +<p>"With pleasure, sir," Gilles answered without surprise, and returning +the lamp, opened the door, showing a narrow stair.</p> + +<p>Germain mounted and passed into a chamber, whose furniture was of +considerable elegance, and the gloom of which was relieved by a single +wax candle on a brass-footed table.</p> + +<p>On the table were a mass of parchments which the genealogist had been +examining and tall cupboards, open drawers, and bookcases full of his +library stood around. A host of old portraits of all kinds and sizes +gave rich colour to the walls.</p> + +<p>The stately manner of Germain caught his glance at once, and bowing +deferentially he inquired the name.</p> + +<p>"It does not matter," said Germain.</p> + +<p>"A Normandy squire," thought the genealogist, from something in the +accent. He invited his visitor to seat himself in the chair facing his +table, and took his own seat at the opposite side.</p> + +<p>"I am newly arrived at Court," said Germain. "What is the best way to +become acquainted with the history of the great families?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least likely you come to me for that," thought the expert. +"It is simple," said he aloud. "Read my <i>Repertory of Genealogy</i>, which +is to be had for fifty livres of the bookseller Giraud, No. 79, Palais +Royal, and which is the infallible standard upon the subject, and is +read by the whole of the Court, the <i>noblesse</i>, the magistrature, and in +general the French nation."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I shall obtain it," answered Germain; "but can you now +answer questions about some of the less conspicuous lines?"</p> + +<p>"I have only, sir, to be told a name, and I guarantee for twenty livres +to relate in written abstract the history of every branch of it which +was ever noble. I also, for a fee, according to the difficulties, make a +specialty of resuscitating genealogies which have been dimmed by lapse +of time or by those misfortunes which often make it seem to the +inexperienced that such blood is ignoble—an impression which is without +question in itself the most deplorable misfortune of all in such cases. +I have discovered barons in chair-menders, and viscounts in +cheese-hawkers," and he looked at Germain cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Such things do not concern me," was the haughty reply. "I am interested +in a family named Lecour. I desire an account of the titles now or +heretofore possessed by persons of that name."</p> + +<p>The professional consulted a register "L" on a shelf behind.</p> + +<p>"The name is a common one, sir, yet the list is not long. Indeed so +common is the name, and so short the list of its stocks of distinction +that there have been but two. One is the well-known family of Amiens, +the other is now obscure."</p> + +<p>"What branch is the latter?"</p> + +<p>"The LeCours de Lincy, formerly a conspicuous race in the annals of +Poitou and very ancient. Their device: a golden lion rampant on an azure +shield."</p> + +<p>"A golden lion rampant on an azure shield," repeated Germain musing.</p> + +<p>"By chance the last of the de Lincys is known to me, and sleeps not far +from where we are sitting—a noble so old and poor that he never enjoys +firewood, and apparently lives solely on the sight of his precious +proofs of <i>noblesse</i>; a food which, excuse me, Monsieur, is, in my +opinion, very innutritious."</p> + +<p>A ray of hope crossed Germain's mind.</p> + +<p>"Would he sell these proofs?"</p> + +<p>The genealogist at once understood Germain's position, but he would take +no mean advantage; he was honourable within his calling. He merely +answered—</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Could you not obtain copies?"</p> + +<p>"For fifteen louis."</p> + +<p>"Here they are," replied Lecour, opening his purse and handing over the +gold.</p> + +<p>The genealogist's ruddy face twinkled.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Germain, "this gentleman of whom you spoke is my relative. I +desire to see him."</p> + +<p>"To some men," replied the other, "I would say Monsieur de Lincy is part +of my professional plant, and I cannot give you the information. To you, +sir, it shall be different, for I take you for a man of honour, and all +I desire is your word that nothing will be done by you without payment +of such fees as I may ask."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," returned Germain, repressing his expectancy.</p> + +<p>"Then you can be conducted to him in the morning, and it must be by +myself, for otherwise he would not trust you. Will you accept a lodging +with me, a plain room, but no worse than at an inn."</p> + +<p>Lecour only too gladly accepted the refuge; but before retiring he +said—</p> + +<p>"My name is Lecour."</p> + +<p>"I knew it," returned the genealogist. "Have no fear of my confidence. I +am not like the vipers who throng my profession. To proceed a step +further, I venture boldly the theory, sir, that you are the Monsieur +Lecour de Répentigny about whose title there has just been some little +question."</p> + +<p>Germain's heart jumped, and he sat for a moment speechless.</p> + +<p>"It is true," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"You wish me to advise you?"</p> + +<p>Lecour nodded.</p> + +<p>"With my advice, then, the thing will be simple. First quit the name of +Répentigny, which will always create jealousies. I leave to yourself the +excuses you will make for having borne it—that you bought the seigniory +of that name or that you possess another of the same appellation, or +that it was very anciently a possession of your family. The armorials +show there were LeCours de Tilly; there were also LeGardeurs de Tilly, +related to the LeGardeurs de Répentigny. You might thus claim possible +relationship. But, as I have said, I leave to yourself the choice of +excuses on that point. Secondly, we must carry out your design of +allying yourself with old de Lincy, who is in such horrible need of a +friend, that it will be a benefit to you both; and thirdly, you must see +to the correction of all marriage contracts, baptismal and death +certificates, and other registers by the insertion of the noble +appellation which will then belong to your family. This is your case in +brief."</p> + +<p>Lecour looked at him, heaving a deep breath of relief, and rising, +allowed himself to be shown to the sleeping chamber.</p> + +<p>When about to breakfast the next morning, on the rolls and wine sent up +by the genealogist, he found a tiny package on his plate, opening which +he saw a handsome old watch-seal fitted with a newly-cut stone in +intaglio, showing a lion rampant on a shield.</p> + +<p>The genealogist had had a jeweller cut on an old seal during the night +the arms of the de Lincys.</p> + +<p>Speculating much, but saying little in reply to Gille's garrulity, he +set off with him to the old noble's attic. A voice, broken by asthma, +feebly called upon them to enter, and Germain's eyes fell upon, lying +on a tattered mattress by the window, the last wreck of a gentleman, +with whom he instantly felt the greatest sympathy. The rotten wood floor +and partitions of the room were bare of furniture except a worn box and +half a dozen dingy oil portraits of ancestors. The occupant's features +were pinched with sadness and starvation. His hair was white. He raised +himself with dignity to a sitting position, however, and received them +with a grave courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Pardon us, Monsieur de Lincy!" the genealogist exclaimed; "I have made +a discovery which will be so interesting to you that I have hastened to +break it without waiting for the sun to rise higher."</p> + +<p>"The hour is nothing," de Lincy replied; "I have always received +visitors in bed."</p> + +<p>"But not always relatives."</p> + +<p>A lofty look passed over the other's face.</p> + +<p>"I am the only de Lincy."</p> + +<p>"Will Monsieur lend me his seal?" said Maître Gilles to Lecour. Then, +handing it to the de Lincy, he exclaimed, "Here is a discovery of mine!"</p> + +<p>"What, are these my arms?" cried the old man.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, preserved for generations in a distant colony by a branch +that does you honour. Permit me, sir, to introduce you to your cousin, +Monsieur LeCour de Lincy, of Canada, officer of the Bodyguard, and who +longs to make the acquaintance of the head of his family."</p> + +<p>De Lincy bowed ceremoniously, and, glancing again at the ring, examined +it with avidity.</p> + +<p>"The arms are those of my ancestors; and you say, sir, that this is an +heirloom of your family in Canada."</p> + +<p>Lecour nodded.</p> + +<p>"Your name is really——"</p> + +<p>"LeCour."</p> + +<p>"Discovered to be your cousin by Maître Gilles, the expert in genealogy, +remember, Chevalier."</p> + +<p>"You are very good, I admit," the old noble replied. "Yes, yes," he +mused aloud on recovering, permitting his eyes to rest on Germain's +face, "he resembles the portrait of my grandfather—that portrait on the +right. There is a tradition that a lost branch was flourishing somewhere +in distant countries. Maître Gilles, under my pillow you will find the +key of my box—my muniment chest. Please to open it and hand me the +genealogical tree which is on the top of the parchments. Very good; here +then is the branch of which I speak, the progeny of Hippolyte, +lieutenant in the marine in 1683: it must be this line. The saints be +praised that the grandeur of our fortunes still has so worthy a +representative, and that I set my eyes once more upon a LeCour de Lincy. +To you these precious portraits of our forefathers and the priceless +titles to our nobility and to the ruins of our château shall descend. +They shall not be lost, despised and scattered. <i>O mon Dieu!</i> I thank +thee."</p> + +<p>With tears he reached his arms to Germain and embraced him, and so +strange is human nature that Germain, enclosed in that pathetic embrace, +began to believe himself really a scion of the lost branch of the de +Lincys, descendants of Hippolyte.</p> + +<p>Gilles departed, Germain remained. He insisted on aiding the Chevalier +to dress, and on supporting his trembling footsteps down the stairway +and to the nearest <i>café</i>, where they fittingly celebrated the occasion. +The Chevalier eagerly brought Germain back to look over the chest of +documents, and gave him permission with joy to obtain authenticated +copies, and on parting, towards the end of the day, actually pressed +upon him one of those portraits, precious to him as his life-blood.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">FACING THE MUSIC</p> + + +<p>Germain hastened back to Troyes, taking up Dominique on the way. It was +evening when his coach brought him past the gate sentry and through the +stray groups in the courtyard of the Quarters, so that he noticed +nothing particular until he entered Collinot's office to report himself. +The Adjutant received him with unusual stiffness. When he, soon after, +descended in his uniform and mounted to take command of the change of +sentries, the crisis arrived. A large, turbulent Guardsman refused to +salute him. Germain stopped, marked the man, and ordered his arrest.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> arrest me!" the private shouted, conscious of his equal rank with +the officers of the ordinary army; "you reptile, you huckster's son! You +order gentlemen about!—<i>you</i>, Lecour, the man of the stolen name!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Brigadier, conduct this gentleman to the guardhouse," firmly +ordered Lecour.</p> + +<p>He did it with so much dignity, despite the whiteness of his face, that +the Guardsmen—who had all been about to mutiny with their +comrade—recognised their duty, and obeyed his further commands. Their +hasty impression that the Canadian was an impostor was shaken by his +manner, and they silently agreed to await developments.</p> + +<p>Immediately this brief service—which he performed to the letter—was +over, he changed costume quickly and walked into the card-room, where a +large company, including several Guards from Châlons, were engaged at +conversation and play. All eyes turned to him. He was seen to march +straight to the centre, and to stand a moment, pale and determined, +until all murmuring hushed.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he began, "I have just been insulted. I have been insulted, +but not so much by the man who lies under arrest, as by him, unknown to +me, who has been the cause of his offence. I am under no possible doubt +that all you who are present have heard the malignant falsehoods which +are being circulated about my origin within the past few days. Their +author, I am informed, is one Léry, a native of my country, who has +obtained in some way a position in the ranks of the company de Villeroy. +I wish to proclaim that I am about to demand of him a just +alternative—retraction or death."</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" exclaimed a friendly voice—Grancey's. Germain had been +listened to with breathless attention, and approval appeared on many +countenances. His fellow-officers moved towards him. Even one of the +Guardsmen from Châlons, of de Léry's regiment, swore the latter had no +right to malign such a brave fellow.</p> + +<p>"Adjutant de Collinot," he continued, "I appeal to you."</p> + +<p>Collinot—the oracle of militarism—who was playing picquet, rose.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Germain, "I desire that this matter be regulated in the +manner that shall best preserve the honour of the company of Noailles, +of which you are the custodian. I must explain to you, for the regiment, +the facts concerning my title of Répentigny. The Marquis of that name, +it is true, is a Canadian, and was, until the British conquest a +generation ago, possessor of the estate of Répentigny, of which his +family, the LeGardeurs, have borne the name as their principal +designation. But this Léry, a man of very inferior pedigree, +notwithstanding his pretensions, has in his ignorance and presumption +overlooked a fact into which he should have at least inquired before +lying about a gentleman. He ought to be aware that the LeGardeurs have +ceased to possess Répentigny since the year 1763. Has he asked himself +what has become of it in the mean-time? Know then, sir, and gentlemen of +this company, that that seigniory being sold again, and again regranted +by the British Crown, has long ago become the property of my father in +perfect title. Does Monsieur Léry dispute the rule that a gentleman may +take the name of a property of his own or of his father's? Yet, in case +there be a technical defect for the purposes of a name in France, in the +fact that we unfortunately hold Répentigny of a foreign power, I am +ready—and indeed from this time forth intend—to recur to another name +about which no petty cavil can rise—for we are not so poor in titles as +to be confined to one—the original illustrious name of my +family—LeCour de Lincy. You, sir, have my attestation by the herald, in +the strictest form, and some of you, gentlemen officers, know under what +circumstances you have seen me in the family of the Chevalier de +Bailleul. I have one thing now to add to these evidences. As guardian, +sir, of the regiment, do me the honour and justice of examining these +papers"—here he handed him his new documents, and passed around the +family seal with its coat-of-arms. "Know me henceforth," he added, +"proven, by a designation above all question, error, or calumny, and +noble among the oldest in the kingdom—my ancestral name of LeCour de +Lincy. Adjutant, I respectfully demand your decision."</p> + +<p>"The rules of the army," the latter answered, precise as usual, "are +satisfied by the attestation of the best authority in the realm on your +antiquity. The Company cannot take official notice of an unsustained +attack upon you; the defence of your honour in such a matter rests with +your own sword. Still, gentlemen, though not formally necessary, I am +pleased to hear a voluntary explanation so satisfactory to our military +family, whose duty it meanwhile is without doubt to support our +comrade."</p> + +<p>And he saluted Germain.</p> + +<p>The company present buzzed with agitation, and many began to speak low +together. Those from Châlons fixed their eyes towards a corner behind +Lecour.</p> + +<p>And now in that direction a figure wearing the green cross-belt of the +company of Villeroy rose, pale, aristocratic, coldly calm, and said, "I +am de Léry."</p> + +<p>The pallor that suddenly blanched Lecour's countenance as he turned in +the direction of the voice left it as quickly when he fully faced his +opponent. He measured him instantaneously, and the man he saw became +stamped indelibly on his mind's eye—a picture, in typical contemptuous +perfection of feature and dress, of the French aristocracy of the old +<i>régime</i>. The very chair on the back of which his hand rested seemed a +part of the type—one of those beautiful white chairs of the period, on +which, on snowy, glittering tapestry, was woven a Fable of Lafontaine in +matchless Gobelin dyes.</p> + +<p>"Do you admit, sir, that you have defamed me?" Lecour cried, grasping +the hilt of his sword and advancing a foot.</p> + +<p>"I defame nobody," Louis answered coldly.</p> + +<p>"Have you not disseminated statements that my name is stolen?"</p> + +<p>"I have said that the noble designation of Répentigny did not belong to +you—that its rightful owners are my uncle the Marquis of Répentigny, +now in Paris, and his family."</p> + +<p>"Did you not know——"</p> + +<p>"Stay, sir. I have also asserted that you are an impostor, the son of a +tradesman of Canada, formerly a private soldier of the Marquis de +Lotbinière, and that you have not the slightest claim to consort with +gentlemen, still less to belong to the Bodyguard, and less again to +become an officer."</p> + +<p>"Liar! liar! liar! Léry, it is <i>you</i> who are the impostor! You are +afraid of those who can tell the truth about you, but I did not conceive +that you would carry our colonial jealousies so far as this. Do you +persist or do you retract?"</p> + +<p>"The scene becomes disagreeable," said some of those present to each +other.</p> + +<p>"It is colonial jealousy, of course," said others. "What have we to do +with it?"</p> + +<p>De Léry stood looking at Lecour without moving, in imperturbable +contempt.</p> + +<p>"I demand satisfaction," the latter hissed.</p> + +<p>De Léry moved only slightly.</p> + +<p>"The laws of honour," said he, "would bid me answer the challenge of a +gentleman. But do you flatter yourself they compel me to cross steel +with such as you?"</p> + +<p>This was the cruellest blow, and under it Germain winced wrathfully. It +was so cruel that those present murmured, and some cried "Shame!"</p> + +<p>"You <i>shall</i> meet me! You <i>must</i> meet me! Besides a slanderer, you are a +coward. Your company, whom you disgrace, have honour enough to make you +meet me," called Germain in tones of rage.</p> + +<p>"Accept! accept! accept!" cried the Guardsmen of the company of +Villeroy.</p> + +<p>"You ask me to dishonour myself?—to cross swords with an animal?" +exclaimed de Léry, turning angrily to his comrades.</p> + +<p>"Shame! shame!" was the cry around the room.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen of the Bodyguard," said Collinot, "I must remind you where +you are."</p> + +<p>D'Amoreau and the Baron led Germain off to his chamber. There they sat +down, and d'Amoreau wrote out a challenge, which Grancey, whom Lecour +chose as his second, delivered without delay.</p> + +<p>Germain was strung to a frightful tension. When his companions, at +Grancey's suggestion, left him alone, he locked the doors and a storm of +apprehensions took hold upon him. The situation presented itself in two +deadly alternatives, either his annihilation in eternal darkness, or +else that his rapier must let out the red life-stream of a man who, +hateful though he might be, was but a speaker of the truth. In that +case, all would come out and justice have to be settled with, both human +and divine. Yes, that extreme justice—to be banished for ever out of +the world of Cyrène. Was it not the better alternative to permit himself +to die by the first thrust of de Léry?</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">A DUEL</p> + + +<p>Nothing pleased de Lotbinière better than shaping a policy. His dark +eyes were constantly full of plan, whether they looked at you or into +the masses of a boulevard flowing with people, or at his own prospects +or those of his family pictured in the future.</p> + +<p>Upon the mother-of-pearl writing-desk in front of him lay his journal, +containing, in a close and perfect handwriting—of a piece with his +skill as a Royal Engineer in military designing—an industrious account +of whatever incidents seemed from day to day of use to him. The entry +visible at the head of the new page read—"Répentigny absolutely refuses +to prosecute the impostor."</p> + +<p>The Marquis, however, was for the moment engaged upon a letter pressing +his interests with the Minister, and in which he was composing the +sentence—"Thus, my Lord, I find myself again in possession of the happy +privilege of humbly recalling to you my services, resulting, with those +of General Montcalm, in the great victories of Ticonderoga and Fort +William Henry, and I——"</p> + +<p>He reached the bell-rope and pulled it. His servant immediately entered.</p> + +<p>"You will take this letter which I am signing to the Palace of the +Louvre, where you will ask for the third supernumerary private Secretary +of the Minister, to whom you are to hand it with the money there on the +table, and say that it is sent by the Marquis de Lotbinière. Repeat the +name <i>twice</i> very distinctly to him, and see there is no mistake about +<i>third</i> or <i>supernumerary</i> or <i>private</i>. Here it is. Seal and carry it. +Have you brought me no mail this morning?"</p> + +<p>"I was about to hand you this note, Monseigneur."</p> + +<p>De Lotbinière looked methodically at the seal, the handwriting, and the +date of the postmark.</p> + +<p>"Go," he said to the servant.</p> + +<p>The incoming letter was from Louis de Léry, begging his uncle's advice +in the affair of Lecour.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The horror I have," wrote he, after relating the circumstances, +"is not of death, for in that respect I shall not be found unworthy +of our ancestors. It is solely the horror—the disgust—of being +compelled to measure myself with a being so ill-assorted. I cannot +limit myself in expressions at my comrades who force this upon me, +nor of detestation and repugnance towards <i>the creature itself</i>. +What am I do? Your experience just now would be invaluable to me.</p> + +<p class="r">"<span class="smcap">Louis R. C. de Léry.</span>"</p></div> + +<p>"<i>Peste</i>, what a fine mess for us all!" de Lotbinière exclaimed. "The +persistence of this fellow is incredible. They say de Bailleul supports +him. I shall begin, then, by removing the support of de Bailleul. Louis +must not fight this duel."</p> + +<p>He picked out a sheet from his pile of gilt-edged note-paper, laid it +down, selected a quill and tried it, then wrote de Bailleul a sharp +letter, as follows—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Mon cher de Bailleul</span>,—They tell me to my amazement that it is you +who are the protector of the young Canadian Lecour, who is just +now making such a noise as an adventurer. He has at least obtained +a high commission in the Bodyguard by the use of your name. I have +no doubt that you are aware that he is the son of Lecour of St. +Elphège, my former <i>cantineer</i>. Can it be true that, knowing his +birth to be so base, you go so far as to permit him the use of your +position in these intrigues? If that be so—for I hesitate to +credit it—let me go farther and remark that a most serious +consequence has just followed his indiscretion. He challenges my +nephew, de Léry, for a date fixed and imminent. We consider you +responsible for this situation. I consequently trust that you will +find some way to suppress your brazen-faced <i>protégé</i>.</p> + +<p class="beg2">"And I have the honour to be, sir, &c.,<br />"<span class="smcap">The Mis. de Chartier de +Lotbinière</span>."</p></div> + +<p class="n">"That will end him," remarked he, and reading it over, he folded, +addressed and sealed it, and putting on his hat and gloves proceeded to +the General Depôt of the Post. There he took out his watch, noted the +hour and minute, and handed in the letter.</p> + +<p>The Chevalier was then in Versailles, so that Lotbinière's note reached +him quickly, and he replied—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="n">"<span class="smcap">My dear Sir</span>,—Your note is a great shock to me. I have not slept +nor lain down all night, on account of the matter of our young +countryman, which is one of the most unfortunate in the world. He +is as a son to me; and out of my feelings for him I beseech you to +treat him considerately, for you cannot know how sensitive and +fine-minded he is; the immediate ruin would kill him. Let us rather +combine to withdraw him more gradually from his false position. +Cannot the quarrel between the young men be softened by gentle +means? As for myself, I am ready to use my best influence with you +in that direction."</p></div> + +<p class="n">The Marquis read the letter over twice.</p> + +<p>"He is asking quarter," he ultimately pronounced; "clemency is asked of +the victor: well, I will be clement. Lecour shall first write a humble +retraction of all his claims. This shall be left in my hands by him for +thirty days, during which the pretender shall leave France. De Léry will +then exhibit the retraction, with attestations both by myself and de +Bailleul."</p> + +<p>De Lotbinière contemplated the cupids frescoed on the frieze urbanely. +He was victor.</p> + +<p>A knock came, and the Marquis de Répentigny was ushered in.</p> + +<p>"See," said he, "what is going all over Paris"; and he gave a newspaper +passage to de Lotbinière to read.</p> + +<p>The item ran—</p> + +<p>"The duel between the two Bodyguards, Monsieur de Léry and the Chevalier +de Répentigny, took place this morning at four o'clock in the woods of +Bois du Lac. It is said that on account of some provincial quarrel, the +former had insulted the latter by denying his gentility, of which, +however, the Chevalier had made the amplest proofs on entering his +regiment. During the duel, he displayed the firmest yet most amiable +spirit, and having disarmed M. de Léry upon the <i>coup de tierce</i>, +magnanimously refused to draw blood. The seconds then interfered and +declared the honour of the combatants satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Devil! <i>Peste!</i> Species of pig!" de Lotbinière cried, his rage finding +too few words.</p> + +<p>"I just now heard some more details from an officer of of the Lambesc +Dragoons," Répentigny continued. "My namesake was perfectly silent; +Louis, on the contrary, quite unlike his ordinary manner, made no +attempt to control himself. He never ceased to exclaim, 'Clodfoot! +Impostor!' and to taunt the stranger at each stroke with his father's +origin. Finally Louis was disarmed, whereupon, with the same silence, +Lecour handed back his sword—'with great dignity' said the Dragoon, and +Louis refused to receive it."</p> + +<p>"'With great dignity!'" shouted de Lotbinière—"You speak as though you +had no feeling."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," replied Répentigny, "I am very sorry for every one +concerned."</p> + +<p>"Save your pity! I shall now bring up my heavy guns."</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXVII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">JUDE AND THE GALLEY</p> + + +<p>The Council of the Galley-on-Land were gathered again in Gougeon's shop +at two in the morning. All Paris was sleeping, and even the orgies of +the Beggars' Ball had sunk to silence. There was animation among the +Council, for in a corner, not at first visible, lay a subject of +debate—a prisoner tightly bound with a rope. Each man held some piece +of sharp iron, Wife Gougeon her pistol. The Admiral sat wrapped in his +brown cloak.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> caught him!" shouted Hache hilariously; "I caught him myself."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?" the Admiral asked.</p> + +<p>"The sheep that followed me. They have followed me ever since the +breaking of Bec and Caron. This one was the worst. He follows you along +like a lizard under a wall; but I caught him, I caught him!"</p> + +<p>A stifled struggle with its fastenings were heard from the bundle in the +corner.</p> + +<p>"Bring him over," order the Admiral.</p> + +<p>Gougeon and Hache went over, lifted the bundle, and deposited it in the +centre of the group, where the candle rays brought out amidst it the +lines of a face. A woollen gag was across the mouth, the eyes were +bloodshot and fear-distorted, but the features were unmistakable. They +were those of Jude.</p> + +<p>Jude, when deprived of the favour of the Princess, had offered his +services to the police administration. He was set on the track of Hache, +whom he successfully shadowed and was about to expose, together with the +Gougeons and their den, when his victim caught him.</p> + +<p>Gougeon took hold of the prisoner's hand roughly, and bound a new gag +under the chin and tightly over the head; he then loosened the mouth gag +and turned away, without any interest in the sequel, to pick at a +driblet of grease running down the side of the candle.</p> + +<p>The change in the gags allowed of speech between the teeth while +preventing the prisoner's mouth from opening to cry out.</p> + +<p>"Spy," said the Admiral severely. "You are in the service of the +Lieutenant of Police?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir, I pray you," Jude hissed. "I am no spy, a poor Abbé only; +and in the name of the Church——"</p> + +<p>"The Church is one of our enemies."</p> + +<p>"But I am not in orders—a secular, a reader, a poor companion. Oh, let +me go and I will do you no harm. I have some money—eighty-five +florins—at my lodgings; let me but go and bring it."</p> + +<p>"And betray us all!" screamed Wife Gougeon. "No, Monsieur Abbé. When you +go from here it will not be to sing."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur will doubtless sign an order for us to draw this sum," said +the Admiral most suavely.</p> + +<p>"Immediately on my release," gasped the Abbé.</p> + +<p>"It is more just that we should have the money first."</p> + +<p>"But I am dying of fear. I have no courage. Listen, listen, I pray of +you good people. I shall give you all I have and fly from you for ever +as far as I can."</p> + +<p>"Unbind his right hand," commanded the leader. "Is there any paper +here?"</p> + +<p>"His own book. I took it from his pocket," said Wife Gougeon, handing +over a note-book.</p> + +<p>The Admiral pounced upon it. The first entry he read aloud was headed +"<i>Hache—ex-convict</i>," succeeded by a description; following it were +memoranda concerning several others of the gang; further on, the number +and street of the shop, and at length an entry: "<i>The Admiral, an +individual of Brittany, who seems to have some connection with these +people.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Oho!" he cried, "Monsieur Abbé, what do you say to this?"</p> + +<p>A hoarse, long groan was the reply.</p> + +<p>Femme Gougeon came over to him, and putting her glittering eyes just +over his, caught his neck with her left hand, and stretching her right +up to Gougeon said "A knife!"</p> + +<p>"No," the Admiral exclaimed peremptorily. "What would you do with the +blood? To the rats with him rather, like the others. Hache, the trap."</p> + +<p>The ex-felon staggered across a pile of scraps, and raised a triplet of +planks which covered a pit. A sickening odour arose.</p> + +<p>"Down with him," continued the robber Captain.</p> + +<p>"But his money?" murmured Gougeon.</p> + +<p>"Never mind it."</p> + +<p>All the men present caught up Jude and hurried him quickly over the +gaping hole, in which he could hear a scuttling of vermin feet and a +chorus of squeaks.</p> + +<p>"May the next be Répentigny!" the Admiral began. "Now up with him——"</p> + +<p>A death-like hiss rose from Jude's lips, "Répentigny? He is my enemy +too. I will be your slave. I have too much fear of you to ever harm you. +Let me tell you about this Répentigny. Life, life, I beseech—I +beseech—beseech you!"</p> + +<p>"Back a moment!" the Admiral commanded.</p> + +<p>Jude was carried once more into the candle-light.</p> + +<p>"Who is the Répentigny you say you know?"</p> + +<p>"The officer—of the King's—Bodyguard."</p> + +<p>"What do you know about him?"</p> + +<p>"I lived in the same house at Versailles—the Hôtel de Noailles."</p> + +<p>"Then you are an aristocrat?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir; do not accuse me—only a servant—one of the people—and I +was dismissed."</p> + +<p>"A reader, you said. Well, what of this Répentigny?"</p> + +<p>"I could inform you concerning all his movements were you only to +release me."</p> + +<p>The Admiral looked away and reflected several minutes. His sinister +countenance was watched with terrible constancy by Jude. At length the +victim caught what he took for a relaxation of the cruel look on the +face of the Admiral, who rose and tapped upon the box on which the +candle stood.</p> + +<p>"Ragmen," he said. The spy's breath stopped in his suspense. "Ragmen, +carry him back."</p> + +<p>It was a terrific blow to Jude, who still, however, retained +consciousness, though now incapable of even hiss or contortion. He was +held over the trap again, and the leader once more commenced speaking. +"Spy," he said, "you have been condemned by the Galley-on-Land to the +death which now yawns beneath you. Men, lift him up till I give my final +order." He paused a time; it seemed an eternity to Jude.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Spy," continued he. "Are you ready, in return for your life, +to serve the Galley-on-Land, of which I am Admiral, before all other +masters; to go where I bid you, to do what I command, to inform me of +whatever will protect us; to succour a ragman before every other +consideration!"</p> + +<p>"All," the prisoner gurgled, with his last strength.</p> + +<p>"Then live."</p> + +<p>They hurried him back and laid him down on the floor unconscious.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the order must be reversed: Répentigny first, this one +afterwards," mused the Admiral, who could do nothing without indulging +his turn for brutal melodrama.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">ANOTHER DUEL</p> + + +<p>Lecour's temper gave out at the irreconcilability of Louis during the +duel, and as soon as he reached the quarters he commenced to return +insult for insult. He exclaimed among his companions that <i>Léry</i>, as he +called him, and his family were petty skin-merchants of Quebec and kept +a shop in their house; that his father had acquired some contemptuous +favour with the British Governors on account of his having been the +first Canadian to turn traitor to the French King, and that <i>Léry's</i> +lies and slanders were just what was to be expected of a breed so base. +The sympathy of the company was with Germain. All took his part, and his +statements were reported to the officers of the Villeroy. The latter +insisted on de Léry's vindicating his and their honour by another +challenge, and compelled him to write it the same day; and Germain +received it during the evening. The second who forwarded it politely +requested that the time to be named be soon, as the Villeroys desired to +return without delay to Châlons.</p> + +<p>"Let it be immediately," answered Lecour. "There is a full moon and no +need to wait another hour."</p> + +<p>So the adversaries, with seconds and surgeon, rode out to an open spot +in the same wood as before, where the two stripped off their coats and +waistcoats, tucked up their laces, were handed their rapiers, and +commenced.</p> + +<p>From the first it was evidently to be a deadly fight.</p> + +<p>Conscious of this, however, they were both on the watch, and it was some +minutes before more than a pass or two was made, and these without +result. The moonlight, too, though the seconds had placed them as fairly +as possible, was at best not absolutely clear and enforced prudence, for +even the brightest moonlight is deceptive.</p> + +<p>At last de Léry, with a clever movement, got in a savage thrust, from +which Lecour only saved himself by extreme alertness with a little graze +of the neck. De Léry was the better trained swordsman of the two, and it +was evident that his loss in the previous duel was due to his furious +recklessness on that occasion. Now that the blood of both was up de Léry +had again the superiority.</p> + +<p>No sooner had the seconds permitted the fight to continue, after the +scratch to Germain, than the latter, stung by rage, instantly thrust and +hissed—</p> + +<p>"Son of a traitor!"</p> + +<p>The wild passion which these words aroused in de Léry saved Lecour. As +it was he was nearly disarmed, and was subjected for several minutes to +a series of onslaughts, which called on all his activity and the whole +strength of his wrist.</p> + +<p>"Hound! hog! soul of muck! <i>canaille!</i> adventurer! cheat!"</p> + +<p>Such epithets came thick and fast with the strokes of de Léry, and were +answered by "Slanderer! reptile! traitor! liar!" from the set lips of +Lecour.</p> + +<p>At last, with a fiery spring, de Léry, having lost all self-control, +threw himself upon his enemy, and received a terrible slash up the +sword-arm, which finished the battle and threw him sidelong on the +ground, while bright red blood spouted all over his breast, and the +surgeon and seconds ran to attend to him. He lost consciousness and fell +back, limp and ghastly.</p> + +<p>No sooner had he fallen than a figure in black sprang out of the wood, +brandishing his sword, and shouting—</p> + +<p>"Well done, our champion! I will finish your work"; and rushing at the +prostrate man, over whom the seconds were bending, he pushed them aside, +and was on the point of driving the weapon into his body.</p> + +<p>Lecour threw himself forward and struck up the steel with his own.</p> + +<p>"Coward!" he shouted, preparing for further defence of his late +antagonist, while the astonishment of Grancey and his fellow-second at +the apparition held them momentarily helpless.</p> + +<p>"I am no coward, but the Instrument of Vengeance. His blood has slain +mine. The scales of heaven are nice to a hair. Let me kill him!" and the +stranger's sword glittered again in a sudden movement. But this time +Grancey seized him, and his colleague assisted in overcoming the man's +struggles.</p> + +<p>"It is a madman," said the surgeon, his hands occupied with his +bandages; "keep him safe till I can finish this work."</p> + +<p>"A madman, yes!" shouted Philibert; "and who made me mad? It was one of +this man's race of murderers and traitors. Justice will only sleep when +he too dies by the sword, like my father, whom they slew. Let me strike! +let me kill him! or, if you will not let me kill him, I will depart, for +the hour of Justice it seems is not yet."</p> + +<p>"Depart quickly then," sternly said the surgeon, taking advantage of the +turn in his mood, and at the words the seconds released the maniac.</p> + +<p>Philibert ran again into the woods and disappeared.</p> + +<p>"There is too much loss of blood—too much," the surgeon remarked +gravely.</p> + +<p>Lecour, wondering and agitated, divined, while the others were occupied, +the identity of the visitant.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXIX</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE LETTRE DE CACHET</p> + + +<p>Lecour had succeeded for a time in baffling the forces arrayed against +him.</p> + +<p>The next turn was made by de Lotbinière, who entered in his journal his +intention of now speaking to the following persons, in their order—</p> + +<ul><li>The Minister,</li> +<li>Répentigny,</li> +<li>The Chevalier de Villerai,</li> +<li>Vaudreuil,</li> +<li>The Genealogist of France,</li> +<li>The Prince de Poix,</li> +<li>The Maréchale de Noailles,</li> +<li>The Baroness de la Roche Vernay.</li> +</ul> + +<p>He went to the first on the list and obtained an interview in private +with his chief secretary, from which he issued with a large sealed +envelope, which contained a handsome parchment in blank, signed "Louis." +It was a <i>lettre de cachet</i>, one of those warrants by which a man might, +without warning to his friends or any charge laid, be arrested and +imprisoned in one of those fortresses whose walls were so many living +graves. He took it to the lodgings of Répentigny.</p> + +<p>"Pierre, I am on the campaign against your namesake!" exclaimed he.</p> + +<p>"Then you have heard the latest news?"</p> + +<p>"Not if it is fresh to-day."</p> + +<p>"An hour old. There has been a second duel between our Louis and Lecour. +What a pity!"</p> + +<p>"A pity? it is an infernal outrage! Another duel? Oh, my God!"</p> + +<p>"Lecour became impatient——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Impatient</i>, forsooth!"</p> + +<p>"And exclaimed among his companions that <i>Léry</i>——"</p> + +<p>"Curse his insolence!"</p> + +<p>"That <i>Léry's</i> family were skin-merchants."</p> + +<p>"The pig and scoundrel! he shall sting for this. Why do you hold +yourself so calm, Répentigny, when your family is insulted?"</p> + +<p>"Frankly, because it is not altogether untrue."</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> in trade? Our nobles skin-merchants? Is it thus that you will +allow the King's permission to our order to engage in the fur trade to +be stigmatised?"</p> + +<p>"I have, Michel, seen the ways of many peoples. I have learned to look +on the castes of our Canada with the same eyes as I look on those of +India, the eyes of amusement, for I find in mankind everywhere the same +tendencies and the same pretensions."</p> + +<p>"But this beast of a Lecour is a liar and impostor."</p> + +<p>"Both."</p> + +<p>"Then I will show you your duty. Open this envelope. You have only to +fill Lecour's name into the warrant it contains, and he goes under lock +and key in the Bastille."</p> + +<p>"I cannot."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"He is a brave man."</p> + +<p>"Tut, you madden me, Pierre. The worst felons are bold."</p> + +<p>"But not generous. Lecour saved Louis's life from the blade of a madman +at this duel. I know too well how that madman would have thrust. We are +both mad—he and I, pursuer and pursued—I have brought it down on both. +Poor Louis! have I pulled down the wrath of God also upon you? What is +this, Michel, that you have brought? Consider what you ask me to do? To +think that any man of our free colony would use a <i>lettre de cachet</i>, +and against a brother Canadian! The thing is damnable," and he flung the +parchment into the fire, where it curled up instantly as if sensitive to +the flame, and cracked loudly with bursting blisters.</p> + +<p>"Pierre, you are a cursed fool!" de Lotbinière retorted violently, and +left, while Répentigny's face became clouded with an unspeakable torture +of sadness.</p> + +<p>The Chevalier de Villerai, who was next on de Lotbinière's list, was one +of the quartermasters of Louis' company, and de Lotbinière, to see him, +would have had to journey to Châlons, some fifty miles away. Being a +relative, he instead wrote him. He received a reply, enclosing one from +de Léry, who was lying ill of his wound. From the embittered sentences +of his nephew, de Lotbinière learned of the insistence of his comrades +on his sending Lecour the challenge, and of the result to de Léry's +right arm. Louis vowed that he would more willingly seek him the next +time, and that the fight would be at sight without any formalities. He +told nothing of Lecour's act of mercy, of which he was apparently +uninformed.</p> + +<p>The quartermaster was an easy-going, large-framed man who regarded most +things as an occasion for drinking and joking. He willingly undertook +to assist de Lotbinière to act for the de Léry party among the +Guardsmen, and to take charge of any petitions which might need to be +presented to a military court. He protested good-humouredly, however, +that "he was a <i>sabreur</i>, not an advocate." De Lotbinière, having made +these arrangements, went to Versailles and saw the Count de Vaudreuil. +The Count blandly alleged himself "ready to oblige Monsieur de +Lotbinière in any manner in his power."</p> + +<p>The Genealogist of France was much interested in the Marquis's story, +and certified in writing that the family name of the Répentignys was not +Lecour, but Le Gardeur.</p> + +<p>The Marquis now went to the Prince. He asked for a private audience and +was admitted. Though Poix had not the remotest idea in the world who he +was, yet he received him with obliging courtesy, combined with a certain +customary hauteur.</p> + +<p>"'Lecour,' you say, Monsieur? Is that the name?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Prince," the Marquis returned.</p> + +<p>"I do not know any such person."</p> + +<p>"His stolen appellation is Lecour de Répentigny."</p> + +<p>"Répentigny? ah, I know, I know."</p> + +<p>"As I have said, sir, the man is a cheat. Here in my hands are proofs of +it, and I, myself, am personal witness against him."</p> + +<p>"Ah, this is serious, this is serious," repeated the Prince in a +disturbed tone.</p> + +<p>"Your Excellency will, then, order his expulsion from the company?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you ask much, you ask much. I refer you to my adjutant. He manages +those things," and with a slightly impatient gesture the Prince bowed, +and de Lotbinière knew that he must go.</p> + +<p>He next proceeded to Troyes to see Collinot. That officer examined +particularly the Genealogist's certificate, went to the records, +compared it with the former attestation, arrived at a conclusion. He +treated the matter as of its full importance, and the only respect in +which he disappointed de Lotbinière was that he did not share the +latter's violent feelings.</p> + +<p>"The young man has been an efficient officer," he said regretfully, "and +his conduct that of a gentleman. He is very unfortunate at an age when a +man feels such misfortune keenly. It is regrettable for all of us. But, +no doubt, we must do our duty."</p> + +<p>"And preserve our young officers from consorting with the scum of the +people, Monsieur Adjutant."</p> + +<p>"He is scarcely scum, sir. One must allow that in point of form he is +<i>parfaitement bien</i>. It is likely that the fortune of his father has led +him quite naturally to believe himself fit for the regiment."</p> + +<p>"He ought, instead, to have been standing aproned in a pork-market. He +deserves the galleys."</p> + +<p>"You are interested, Monsieur, and look at the affair with personal +annoyance. As for me, I am guided solely by the royal ordinance +requiring proofs of sixteen quarterings for entry into the Bodyguard. If +Monsieur Lecour—who is now de Lincy—not Répentigny—cannot show them +satisfactorily, he does not fulfil the ordinance, that is all. He is +to-day at a shooting party."</p> + +<p>"This Lincy name is a worse imposture than the other. I tell you, +Monsieur Adjutant, it is <i>impossible</i> for such folk to have nobility."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, sir," said Collinot, taking out his watch. "May I invite you +to review the force?"</p> + +<p>"I must deny myself this great honour, inasmuch as I am not ready with +your new infantry drill," returned de Lotbinière, intensely flattered +at an invitation to review Bodyguards.</p> + +<p>Besides, he had at last, he said to himself, effected his point. So he +ordered his carriage and departed for Paris to pursue the rest of his +plans.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXX</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE HEAVENS FALL</p> + + +<p>When Germain returned from the shooting party, he was sent for from +Collinot's office, and upon his entering, the door was closed.</p> + +<p>As the closing of Collinot's door was an unusual proceeding, and was +known among the regiment to denote something very particular, +speculation and excitement immediately became rife, and the news that +Lecour was closeted with Collinot spread like wildfire.</p> + +<p>Germain, rosy and active, saluted his superior gallantly. The latter +returned the action with a non-committal countenance.</p> + +<p>"A gentleman calling himself the Marquis de Lotbinière has just been +here. Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>Germain braced himself.</p> + +<p>"I have heard of him in Canada," he said, "but his Marquisate is not +believed in there."</p> + +<p>"You Canadians have strange tales of each other. He is apparently a very +respectable man, and supported his allegations about you—which are in +substance the same as those made by Monsieur de Léry—by a certificate +from the Genealogist that the family name of Répentigny is LeGardeur, +not Lecour."</p> + +<p>"Did he admit that he is an uncle of my adversary, de Léry, and has the +natural malice against me of a relative of my antagonist?"</p> + +<p>"I have made due allowance for his bias, Monsieur Lecour."</p> + +<p>Germain's heart sank at the form of the name in which he was addressed.</p> + +<p>"The difficulty," proceeded the Adjutant, "is in your papers; for, +however the truth may stand as to your position, your proofs to the +regiment were made under the title of Répentigny, a designation which +you have abandoned. My position, as representing and protecting the +regiment, therefore, is that I hold no proper proofs that you possess +the generations of descent which you are aware are necessary. I now have +the honour of calling upon you to produce such proofs."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir," answered Germain, and leaving the room, strode to his +quarters and returned with the de Lincy copies.</p> + +<p>Collinot scanned them carefully. Germain, waiting silently, noticed that +on the whole he was not displeased.</p> + +<p>"Only the past two generations are lacking," he pronounced, "your +certificate of baptism and those of your father and mother, together +with their marriage contract. Why are they not supplied?"</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt they can be. With your permission, I shall send at once +to Canada for them."</p> + +<p>But Collinot was silent again, looking over the documents.</p> + +<p>The story de Lotbinière was likely to have told crossed Germain's mind, +and he went on—</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt the enemies of my family mentioned every +disadvantageous fact. If it is that my father is in trade, let me say +yes—as the greatest merchant in his country and the equal of any one +there—and let me add that the decrees of our King always permitted +<i>noblesse</i> in Canada to engage in commerce, from the circumstances of +the country, just as those of Brittany are permitted to enter the +commerce of the seas. That is therefore no derogation."</p> + +<p>"It is not that which troubles me, lieutenant," Collinot answered, "but +the certificates in themselves are incomplete in lacking the links I +mention. Without them," he said, rising to his feet and looking at +Lecour calmly, "you can no longer serve in the Prince's company."</p> + +<p>The blow fell hard.</p> + +<p>Germain sank down in a chair and turned his face aside.</p> + +<p>"My God, she is lost to me," he murmured. Collinot caught the words. The +natural kindness of the man overcame the formality of the +disciplinarian, and he went and placed a hand upon Lecour's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You know, sir," he said kindly, "that one is not master of his birth, +but of his conduct. Yours has been blameless. I sympathise with you +greatly."</p> + +<p>"Anything but this! Ruined, ruined—what ruin and disgrace!"</p> + +<p>"Not so, my boy; there is no disgrace in being less wellborn—it is only +that one possesses a few privileges the less."</p> + +<p>"How am I to leave, sir? Shall I not have permission to seek my proofs +in Canada and return?"</p> + +<p>"If you can obtain the proofs you shall have your place again."</p> + +<p>"Grant me but a few days to arrange my affairs."</p> + +<p>"In your own interest let me advise you not to make it more than +twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>"Twenty-four hours?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty-four."</p> + +<p>"Twenty-four hours!" repeated Lecour, dazed. "Can I have the privilege, +then, at least, of wearing the uniform until I leave France?"</p> + +<p>"That cannot be."</p> + +<p>"May I ask but a certificate of having served, with honour in the +company?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"It is due solely to those whose original right to have entered the +corps is without dispute."</p> + +<p>"Alas! all who have known me in my former state will ask why I have +ceased to retain it." Pallor and despair seemed to have transformed him.</p> + +<p>"Were I not a soldier," sighed Collinot, making a great effort to +repress his own feelings, "I should under these painful circumstances +most gladly write you a certificate. Remember me ever as one who would +have liked to be your friend."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, you have been too kind to me," Lecour cried, in a voice of +agony, his eyes running tears; and grasping the hand of the Adjutant, he +wrung it affectionately, and could speak no further. Sobering himself +and turning quickly, he made his exit. Many curious eyes furtively +followed him and guessed the secret as he strode along to his apartment.</p> + +<p>Grancey came to him in a few moments, furious.</p> + +<p>"The whole company holds there was never such a conspiracy—what can we +do?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing—nothing—nothing."</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">ONE DEFENDER</p> + + +<p>Cyrène passed down her favourite oleander path at sunset to the great +vinery in the Noailles garden. The oleanders were covered with their +roseate blooms, and their beauty and that of the garden in the soft +sunset light mysteriously deepened with an undefined regret the sadness +and fears which were hers of late.</p> + +<p>"Why do you not come to me, Germain? Why have you not at least written +me a few words in reply to mine? Only a few words, my dear one—only the +least line," she murmured to herself.</p> + +<p>She passed on to the vinery, where sitting down under the interlaced +green she became still more abstracted.</p> + +<p>"Oh Germain, some great danger is above you. Who are those enemies of +whom the Instrument of Vengeance spoke? What is this web of murder and +madness in which they are involving you? I pray God to keep you safe, my +love. Ah, what bliss to have you mine, <i>mine</i>, and be yours. At last, at +last we shall have somewhere a sweet <i>chez nous</i> to ourselves."</p> + +<p>The loveliness of the oleander blossoms and the sunset over the garden +made a harmony with her dream. To the widow who had been no wife, the +girl who had seen no girlhood, the child who had never had a home, the +lady who was losing her life in gilded servitude, that dream was dear.</p> + +<p>The sound of a silver bell broke in, the signal that she was in request +by old Madame l'Etiquette. A sigh escaped her, and she hastened to the +house.</p> + +<p>To de Lotbinière, to have effected his point had not been enough. To +humiliate Lecour with the ladies with whom he had ingratiated himself +was yet, in the opinion of this vindicator of public interests, demanded +by justice to society, so he had wended his way that afternoon to the +Hôtel de Noailles and applied at the portal of the Maréchale. There he +was kept waiting while his name was sent in.</p> + +<p>"The person is not on my list," she said. "Present my regrets." Covering +his irritation with a smiling face, as courtiers must ever learn to do, +he asked for ink and paper and patiently wrote her on the spot a +respectful and pointed warning on the danger to Cyrène. His missive +struck the dominant chord in the breast of Madame.</p> + +<p>"What," she cried on reading it "de Lincy a cheat! No questionable +person shall ally himself with the royal blood of the Noailles and +Montmorencys! This is what comes of relaxing the old rules, the old +customs, and admitting new people. It is what comes of this Austrian +Queen." Ah—she glanced around quickly to see that none but her +lady-in-waiting heard those last words.</p> + +<p>"Show the man in," she added. The lady-in-waiting transmitted the order. +De Lotbinière appeared, and at Madame's request began his narrative.</p> + +<p>He had not proceeded far when the Maréchale sent for Cyrène. It was the +kind of opportunity in which de Lotbinière gloried. As soon as he +commenced she scanned him with intense attention, saying to herself, +"This is one of Germain's enemies." As he told his tale he too watched +her closely. The courage with which she listened to the development of a +story so deeply affecting her honour and her heart, and her perfect +dignity, unexpected by him, baffled him, from point to point of his +careful narration, where he had expected to produce effects.</p> + +<p>"Of all women," he thought, "she is the strangest. Are my skill and +effort to be wasted on a girl?" But guessing correctly all at once and +rightly attributing her reticence to preparation and distrust of +himself, he stopped and said—</p> + +<p>"He has doubtless told Madame a very different version."</p> + +<p>"He has told me nothing of these things, sir," she answered quietly.</p> + +<p>De Lotbinière was nonplussed, but he had not yet come to the duels. He +now mentioned them.</p> + +<p>"There have been two duels."</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon dieu!</i>"</p> + +<p>"I hope that your nephew punished him sharply," La Maréchale +interrupted.</p> + +<p>"The brute, unfortunately, has wounded my nephew, Madame."</p> + +<p>"Is your brother-in-law, the Marquis de Répentigny, whom you mentioned, +he who killed a man named Philibert in Quebec?" now demanded Cyrène.</p> + +<p>It was as if a thunderbolt struck de Lotbinière.</p> + +<p>"Who spoke to you of that?" he exclaimed hastily.</p> + +<p>"Do you hear?" Cyrène cried excitedly, turning to La Maréchale. "Do you +hear this admission of murder?"</p> + +<p>"It was no murder!" de Lotbinière interrupted, trembling with feeling.</p> + +<p>"You apparently wish some finer term to describe it," she retorted. +"Sir, any charges made to me against my affianced must be supported by +individuals more free of terrible records. <i>I</i> shall trust his innocence +through eternity." And with these words, uttered frigidly, she left the +room, the Maréchale looking after her astonished.</p> + +<p>Now Germain, having fled from Troyes, came to the hôtel. He entered one +of the great salons, and, miserable and desperate, sent up his name to +Cyrène for a last interview. While he waited to be ushered up, to his +surprise, she herself appeared at the end of the salon, advancing with a +tearful expression. The sight of her, dragged down into his pit of +misery, sent him distracted. All was forgotten for a few moments, as she +tearfully clasped him in her arms and murmured—</p> + +<p>"Germain, you are no adventurer, no Sillon. Though all the world be +against you, I shall die with you."</p> + +<p>Intoxicated with surprise that she did not repel him, yet overcome with +the belief that it was to be their last embrace, he lost himself for the +time in mingled remorse and mad bliss. They clung to each other as so +many others have clung in those short moments which are the attar of a +lifetime. At length he grew more conscious, and the delirium of holding +that face and golden hair to his breast triumphed over the pain of +guilt. At that moment they simultaneously perceived a shadow and +started.</p> + +<p>"Baroness," said a severe voice, "you make me blush for my house."</p> + +<p>Cyrène and Germain sprang apart in alarm.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i>," Madame l'Etiquette said, addressing Germain, "have dared to +enact such a scene here. You, the apothecary's apprentice——"</p> + +<p>"Madame," Cyrène cried, her eyes flashing, "withdraw those words! I +demand it!"</p> + +<p>The situation aroused all his faculties.</p> + +<p>"Madame la Maréchale," said he quite coolly, "has taken, I observe, the +word of my enemies without asking for the facts. I shall not fatigue her +with arguments, as I am on my way to produce the proofs."</p> + +<p>With two profound bows, the first to Cyrène, the other to Madame de +Noailles, he withdrew.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">A STRONG PROOF</p> + + +<p>Remorse in all its horror seized him with the last glance of Cyrène's +tearful eyes. He could not but feel the demand of those eyes for fine +honour in the man on whom they rested in love. She was to him the white +flower sprung of the truth and fearlessness, as well as the grace, of +long descended chivalry, and who must not be associated with anything +base. He had never before fully faced his Répentigny impersonation in +the aspect of a falsity to her. Now, after his direct lie to her, +self-contempt threatened to altogether overwhelm him.</p> + +<p>He mechanically went on to Paris, whither Dominique had gone before to +secure his lodging. The evening of his arrival was spent in grief.</p> + +<p>"The fault is mine, but why?" he asked himself with impatient gloom. +"Why has Providence so unfairly divided the honours and the guilt of +life? Why are there rich and poor? Why good and bad? Why should an +unfortunate like me, who has meant only well, be entangled in such a +mesh of accidents? Why were my eyes designed but to see, my breast to +love, my Cyrène, at such frightful cost?"</p> + +<p>Next morning, the sunlight gilding the pinnacles of the Louvre, the +cries of Paris, the fascinating dash of the metropolis, brought back to +him his gift of animal spirits. Were he, he thought, but to successfully +outride his present troubles, he would accept a post which had been +offered him, as commandant of a cadet school on the far away estates of +the Duke de la Rochefoucault, and thither retire quietly with Cyrène, +away from the jealousy and criticism of the Court, and make open +confession to her.</p> + +<p>By appointment made at Troyes he went to meet Grancey in the Palais +Royal garden.</p> + +<p>Germain took his friend's arm and led him along the antiquated quarter +of the Marais, where he had secured a room in a quiet neighbourhood for +the old Chevalier de Lincy. His heart beat lest anything should have +occurred to arrest the old noble's illusion. His intention was to +introduce Grancey into the apartment of the old man, and there to let +him gather from the lips of the occupant words that would link Germain +with a house so ancient and respected. They arrived at the door, rang, +and demanded of the landlady whether the Chevalier was in. She looked at +them curiously as she held the door open.</p> + +<p>"Is one of you Monsieur de Lincy's cousin!" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"I, Madame," replied he.</p> + +<p>"Come in, sir. Have you not received the letter posted yesterday by the +priest?"</p> + +<p>"By the priest?" Germain stopped, with his friend, on the threshold of +the chamber into which she had led them. "Is he ill, then?"</p> + +<p>"The saints protect him, sir, he has finished his last illness. He lies +upstairs in his beautiful mortuary chamber draped by the Sisters of the +Hospital."</p> + +<p>"Poor old de Lincy," he murmured, yet could hardly realise it.</p> + +<p>"Are you not Monsieur de Lincy, too, sir?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he replied quickly, checking himself, "but he was the head +of the house. Alas! let me see him."</p> + +<p>She led them up two flights and into the death chamber, which was +heavily hung with black and the windows darkened. Two tapers at the head +and two at the feet showed where the corpse lay, and near by stood an +altar with lights and flowers, beside which two Black Nuns knelt +motionlessly. The visitors crossed the room with bowed heads and looked +down at the face of the dead. It had lost its worn look and was at +peace. A faint smile, as of proud pleasure, rested on the lips, and +Lecour knew that smile was for him. It brought him a strange emotion; he +felt as if, though condemned by so many of the living, he was loved by +the dead; and a great tenderness towards his pathetic relative welled in +his heart. He bent over the face and earnestly wept.</p> + +<p>"He loved you, Monsieur le Chevalier," the landlady said, weeping also, +"and bade the notary leave with me a copy of his will for you. When +Monsieur descends, I shall give it to him."</p> + +<p>"Did he talk much before he died?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal. The confessor said there was a high fever. He talked of a +castle upon a mountain—and about you, Monsieur, a good deal. He was not +strong when he came to us: I said from the beginning 'He is on the short +way to heaven': he seemed like one who had suffered too much."</p> + +<p>They followed her out of the chamber. Lecour could not help some +eagerness concerning the will, and perusing it closely when she handed +it to him, found it bequeathed him all the testator's possessions. He +passed the deed silently to his friend the Baron, who read the first +half and caught the drift.</p> + +<p>"Your proof is incontestable," he said briefly.</p> + +<p>"The difficulty is but the completion of my proofs. I have to go to +Canada for that. But assure the company of my return."</p> + +<p>"We shall appeal in a body to the Prince."</p> + +<p>"I pray you not."</p> + +<p>"What can we do for you, then?"</p> + +<p>"Thank the others. Invite all my friends in Troyes to a banquet in my +name this day week, at which you will preside for me. Spare no expense. +You shall be witness for me while I am absent in Canada."</p> + +<p>"If to serve you is the programme, I shall live happy."</p> + +<p>The Baron returned to Troyes and, duly presiding at the dinner given to +the Guards in Germain's name, related excitedly what he had seen.</p> + +<p>The young men heard the story with outbursts of delight, drank Lecour's +health standing on their chairs, heaped his place with roses, sang over +and over a chorus in his honour, and parted swearing vehemently that the +dismissal of such a good fellow was a wrong to the company of Noailles +concocted as an insult to the whole of them by the rival company of +Villeroy.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE REGISTER OF ST. GERMAIN-DES-PRÉS</p> + + +<p>A hazy hope concerning his descent had haunted Lecour for some months +past. That the Chevalier de Lincy was really in some manner his relative +became his belief. He argued that his own fitness for aristocratic +society must have a hereditary explanation and that, were he able to +trace his lineage a short distance backward he would discover some +higher status fallen from by his family through misfortune. On the day +of de Grancey's departure, he began to place together the straws of +information which might guide him. He had once heard his father speak of +having left France at the age of twelve years. Was he a kidnapped and +deported heir? Was he a cadet of some reduced family?</p> + +<p>Again, on one of the rare occasions when Lecour senior referred to the +past—a winter's evening chat by the fire-side with the curé of the +parish—he had described his boyish recollection of the interior of the +Paris church of St. Germain-des-Prés, then the family church of his +family. Was his own name taken from its patron saint? Would its +registers contain records of the Lecours?</p> + +<p>He knew at least his father's age—born in 1736, it would make him—yes, +and also his birth month, June. Here were straws to start by.</p> + +<p>He lost no time in crossing the Seine and seeking the church. As he +passed the middle of the Pont Neuf—near the equestrian statue of Henry +IV., a small man, meanly dressed, glided out of the shadow of a vehicle, +and moved stealthily after him, his motions wary as a cat's. This man +was Jude.</p> + +<p>Germain arrived at the edifice, which adjoined the great abbey of the +same name, and scanned its ancient spire and dilapidated façade for some +moments before he entered, full of thought—"for here," said he "is the +temple of my forefathers—the visible link that binds my origin to +France." He passed in, regarding every pillar and ornament of its +quaint, dark, Norman interior with the same fascination, and traversing +its length, came to the sacristy behind the high altar. A young priest +was standing there overlooking the operations of some workmen, and +muttering his breviary.</p> + +<p>"Messire, I am seeking information for which I wish to examine your +parish registers," said Germain.</p> + +<p>"It is an honour, sir," replied the priest. "What is the year?"</p> + +<p>"1736."</p> + +<p>"The books are here, sir," opening a cupboard in which various large +volumes leaned against each other on the shelves. "This is 1736. May I +assist you in finding the entry?"</p> + +<p>"I am not sure what I need."</p> + +<p>"I fear Monsieur will not find some of the entries easy reading."</p> + +<p>"Time is not important to me, father," answered Germain cheerfully. "May +I take the register to this table near the light?"</p> + +<p>"With pleasure; but should the handwriting be difficult, speak to me. I +am the archivist of the abbey." And thus saying he turned back to his +workmen.</p> + +<p>Lecour examined the volume with beating heart. He nervously fingered the +leaves at first without receiving any distinct impression of the +contents, his brain was so full of other thoughts. At last he noticed +that the entries were regular and consecutive, and though written in +different hands, were clear to follow. He reached the month of June, +read its entries slowly, one after another—a birth, a marriage, a +death, then another death, then a birth again, and so on, with the names +of the parties and their parents, some high, some low, until he came to +nearly the end, when suddenly one seemed to stare at him out of the +page.</p> + +<p>"The 27th,—Took place the baptism of François Xavier, tenth son of +<i>Pierre Lecour, master-butcher, of this Parish</i>, and of his wife, Marie +LeCoq. He had for godfather, Jean LeCoq, tinker, and for godmother, +Thérèse, wife of Louis Bossu, Charcoal vendor."</p> + +<p>From the moment he read the word "master-butcher," his head swam, his +heart sank, he felt a blow as if it were the stunning thud of a heavy +weight upon it, and an unconscious groan escaped him.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur is sick," exclaimed the priest to his men. "Bring wine."</p> + +<p>"No, father," returned Germain, slowly rising, and steadying himself, +"it is nothing," and he walked forward and left the sacristy.</p> + +<p>The room had two doors leading inward to the high altar, one on each +side. Just as Lecour passed out by the left one, Jude glided in by that +on the right, and crossing boldly to the open book, pounced upon the +entry of baptism.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXIV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">AT QUEBEC</p> + + +<p>Germain was now committed to the most desperate courses to maintain his +assumed character. He left France, and by way of London, took ship for +his colony. The Canada of 1788 was a quaint community shut away out of +the great world. It consisted of a few widely separated hamlets, keeping +in touch with each other by means of a long road on each shore of the +St. Lawrence, and having as chief cities the two tiny walled towns of +Quebec and Montreal. It possessed a population of perhaps a hundred and +fifty thousand souls, all French except a couple of British regiments, +and a handful of officials and tradesmen. Some bodies of refugee +Loyalists of the American Revolution had recently also come in. The +driblet of population thus strung scantily along the banks of the vast +river seemed as nothing in the mighty forest by which it was surrounded. +The country therefore had in great part the virgin look of the primeval +solitude.</p> + +<p>After an eight weeks' stormy voyage in the London barque <i>Chatham</i>, +Germain cast his eyes with relief on the tawny, lion-like rock of +Quebec, with the fortress above and the little town about its feet, and +straggling up its sides. The vessel at length drew up to moorings, the +anchor dropped, and a boat came out for the passengers. He disembarked +with his boxes, and inquired for a good lodging in the Upper Town. A +<i>calèche</i>-driver undertook to find him one, and leaving the heavier +luggage with a merchant near by, lashed his brisk little horse with the +ends of the reins, and inspired it into a cat-like climb by which Lecour +was whisked up the precipitous windy street called Mountain Hill, from +the busy Lower to the aristocratic and military Upper Town.</p> + +<p>After some searching they found a certain Madame Langlois, a widow who +lived in a comfortable house on St. Louis Street, and could give the +gentleman a front room on her first floor. There he could see the +principal doings of the town, for it was not far from the Place d'Armes +and the Castle. It suited him and he installed himself. As it was late +in the afternoon, he occupied the time by unpacking his effects until +called to supper by Madame Langlois. At the meal, he noted that his +landlady—a thin, civil woman of thirty-eight or so, was simply dying of +discreet curiosity. He vouchsafed her only his name, and that he was +just arrived from France. He, however, asked a number of questions about +the Castle, the Governor, his staff, and the prominent people of the +town, and inflamed her interest as much by his questions as by his dress +and manners. Then retiring till dusk fell, he went out and wandered +about the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>The rock of Quebec is like a lion couchant beside the St. Lawrence. On +the head is the fortress, on the back the Upper Town, around the feet +nestles the Lower Town, while the River St. Charles flows around the +hinder parts.</p> + +<p>The city was no vast place: its population was but some seven thousand +souls, with about two thousand of a garrison, and the occupied area in +the Upper Town covered a few streets only, the remainder consisting of +grassy fields stretching to the fortification walls. The citadel, +picturesquely crowning the summit of the rock, stood several hundred +yards higher, at one side. The Castle of St. Louis, the main ornament of +the place next to the cathedral, overlooked the cliff, resting on a +series of tall buttresses ribbing the side of the precipice.</p> + +<p>At every point along the "lion's back," or upper edge of the cliff, +where Germain was, a magnificent view greeted him. He stopped to enjoy +it. The harbour lay glimmering far below in the moonbeams, across it the +heights of Levis stretched along the weird landscape. The lighted +windows of the Lower Town, of which he could see little more than the +shimmering dark roofs, shone up obliquely. All was domed over by a +dark-blue sky in which the harvest moon rode.</p> + +<p>He walked back from the cliff along the Rue St. Louis to the city wall, +and returned by the Rue Buade. In doing so he scanned the fortifications +with military interest, and returning, remarked the dark, low pile of +the convent of the Jesuits, and also the cathedral and the seminary +adjoining. He remembered once hearing his father say this cathedral of +Quebec had been designed by one of the de Lérys. From the place in front +of it he could make out dimly, down the slope of Ste. Famille Street +close by, the de Léry mansion itself.</p> + +<p>"The father and mother will be there," he cogitated. "They will have had +letters about me from France by this time."</p> + +<p>He turned again along Buade Street, and continued his stroll with an +object, for at the point where the sharp descent towards the Lower Town +began he brought up before a stately house of stone, of an antique +architecture, on the face of which, over the door, something +indistinctly glittered. It was the house of the Golden Dog; and as he +surveyed it and tried vainly to read the letters of the inscription, +his shadowy visitor at Troyes once more arose vividly before his +imagination, and the terrible scene of Philibert's murder seemed to be +enacted again upon the flight of steps before the door. Absorbed in the +gruesome story with which he was so strangely connected, he returned to +his chamber, and retired.</p> + +<p>Twice he heard the tramp of a change of guards passing along the street. +Once a convent bell rang, perhaps for some midnight burial.</p> + +<p>The next day at breakfast he learned from his hostess that the presence +of the strange gentleman lodging with her had been remarked by several +young women, and that it was already the gossip of the Upper Town. In +the course of her stream of news she mentioned Monsieur de Léry. The +hand with which he was about to lift his cup to his lips stopped, and he +casually asked—</p> + +<p>"Who is <i>he</i>?"</p> + +<p>"The Honourable Monsieur de Léry," she exclaimed. "I thought he was +known to all the world. He is the senior in the Governor's council, and +his lady is the best customer of my brother-in-law's shop. The old +Chevalier de Léry never did a wrong to any one, and if he is a little +stiff, he still walks the straightest man in the town of Quebec."</p> + +<p>Lecour withdrew to his chamber, and opened a miniature portmanteau +covered with purple leather and stamped in gold with the de Lincy arms. +He drew out a parchment, which he placed on the table. Then, taking from +his clothes-box the uniform of his lieutenancy in the Bodyguard—which +he had been so expressly forbidden to wear—he dressed himself before +the glass with the greatest care, and having finished, put on his sword, +placed the parchment in his bosom, took up his hat, and went forth with +his ordinary air of ease and command. Passing along the street and +across the Place d'Armes—at the insignificance of which, comparing it +with that of Versailles, he laughed almost aloud—he entered the gate of +the Castle.</p> + +<p>The tow-headed Briton who was performing sentry duty at the gate, though +he challenged him like an automaton, was astonished at the sight of a +uniform, the like of which, in style, brilliancy, and ornaments, he had +never before seen.</p> + +<p>"Be blowed to me, Bill," he soon afterwards remarked to a comrade of the +guard-room, "if I didn't take 'im fer ole General Montcalm come back +from blazes; 'e looked so grand an' Frenchy-like, an' come on me so +sudden."</p> + +<p>The Governor's <i>aide-de-camp</i>, de la Naudière, a dashing Canadian +officer, was almost as surprised at the sight of Lecour's uniform as the +sentry, and receiving him with profound deference, read the passport +which the new arrival handed him. He was not aware how closely the eyes +of Germain watched his face. At the name "LeCour de Lincy, Esquire," in +the paper he gave a slight start, but by the time he came to the end his +manner recovered itself, and he greeted him cordially.</p> + +<p>"The French army, Monsieur, never lacks honour in the Province of +Quebec. You bear a uniform and a rank which commend you to our best +hospitalities. Will you permit me to share my good fortune in meeting +you with our Governor, Lord Dorchester?"</p> + +<p>"I have heard of Lord Dorchester," replied Germain, "how gallant a man +he is, and how true a friend to our nation."</p> + +<p>"Nothing is truer, sir; every Canadian will tell you he is the soul of +kindness and sympathy with us, and that he has quite withdrawn the sting +of our being a conquered people. Here I am, a Catholic and a Canadian, +yet as well pleased as if I were in the service of France. His +friendship with our gentry is like the relation of a veritable father +to his family."</p> + +<p>"Were not his services very great in the American Revolution? I have +heard General Lafayette speak highly of his name."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Monsieur; his services preserved this Province from the enemy, and +we have named him 'the Saviour of Canada.' Pardon me a moment to +announce you."</p> + +<p>While waiting to be summoned to the Governor, Lecour glanced around. The +part of the buildings in which he stood was the Old Château, a +picturesque structure of the French times, dating from 1694, crowning +its conspicuous position as a landmark by a mediæval roof of steep +pitch; while a gallery two hundred feet in length ran along the outside, +supported by tall buttresses, which, clinging to the cliff-side, gave it +beneath the same elongated lines as the steep roof above. The result was +exceedingly quaint and castellated. He remembered that he had often seen +it thus from the river. His present point of view gave him, through the +windows and over the gallery, another form of his view of the harbour +and Point Levis, one of the most striking landscapes in the world. +Looking closer about the room, the low-raftered ceilings of an older +time brought another thought to his mind.</p> + +<p>"Is not this," he exclaimed to himself, "the very chamber where Count +Frontenac, a hundred years ago, must have received the envoy of Admiral +Phipps with request to surrender, and returned the reply, 'I will answer +your master by the mouth of my cannon.'" He imagined he heard the +gallant veteran say the words.</p> + +<p>Turning to the windows towards the courtyard, he saw opposite the +handsome new range of buildings lately erected, and nicknamed "Castle +Haldimand," in which were the apartments of the Governor and his family, +and which, on their further side, fronted on the Place d'Armes.</p> + +<p>As a boy he had once looked into the courtyard, and contemplated its +precincts with juvenile awe. Now, he was standing a guest of honour in +the then inaccessible arcana. He was not given much time to continue his +reflections. De la Naudière came back, brought him across, and conducted +him into the reception chamber of Governor Dorchester. His Excellency, +who was a large, finely-made man of a ruddy and generous countenance, +received him with that trained, lofty courtesy which marked the meeting +of distinguished men of that time, and Lecour, as he reciprocated the +salutation, saw that he had nothing to fear from him.</p> + +<p>"I recognise your uniform, Chevalier," said he, "which revives to me +some pleasant memories of Versailles."</p> + +<p>"Your Lordship is, then, acquainted with my Sovereign's Court? His +Majesty knows how to appreciate a brave man."</p> + +<p>"He has too many in his service to do otherwise; but I have no +pretensions on that score."</p> + +<p>"The world well knows, your Excellency, 'The Saviour of Canada,'" Lecour +replied, "and my country honours you as one of the worthiest of former +foes."</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, Monsieur le Chevalier—excuse the freedom of an old +Englishman in turning the conversation. My lady will die of curiosity +over the appearance of a Garde-du-Corps in this out-of-the-way quarter +of the globe. How can I answer her as to the cause?"</p> + +<p>"Private business with my family, my Lord, connected with an estate in +our mother country."</p> + +<p>"Ah, your people are Canadians?"</p> + +<p>"My father is generally known as the Merchant Lecour of St Elphège. His +full name is LeCour de Lincy."</p> + +<p>"That is the name on your passport," interrupted de la Naudière. "I +never knew he was a noble."</p> + +<p>"He has never boasted of it," returned Lecour.</p> + +<p>"An honest old fellow," Dorchester commented. Then, remembering himself, +added, "You will, of course, do us the honour while in Quebec of being a +guest at the Castle?"</p> + +<p>"Your Lordship's invitation is a command, but I am here for a few hours +only."</p> + +<p>"Let us enjoy these hours then; eh, la Naudière? See that Mr. de Lincy's +luggage is brought to the Castle."</p> + +<p>"We review the garrison, in a few minutes," continued Dorchester, "then +we luncheon. After that we are to drive to the Montmorenci Falls."</p> + +<p>A beautiful and haughty-looking woman of over forty years entered the +room. She stopped when she saw Lecour, but concealing her surprise at +his uniform, stood graciously while her husband—for she was the +Governor's wife—turned and said—</p> + +<p>"Lady Dorchester, allow me to present the Chevalier de Lincy, whom we +have just acquired as our guest, and whom you will recognise as a +Garde-du-Corps of the King of France."</p> + +<p>"The Milady Dorchester," as she was called among the people, was of the +famous line of the Howards, daughter of that Earl of Effingham who +refused in 1776 to draw his sword against the liberties of his +fellow-subjects in America.</p> + +<p>At her table many a scathing dissertation on the nobodiness of nobodies +had been given the youthful gentry of the Province, a fact not unknown +to Germain. De la Naudière himself had experienced her sharpness when he +was first introduced at her table. On that occasion in carving a joint +he had the misfortune to spill some gravy on the cloth. "Young man," +cried Milady, "where were you brought up?" "At my father's table, where +they change the cloth three times a day," he quickly retorted, and +captured her favour.</p> + +<p>A Garde-du-Corps, however, was sacred from reproach. To have with them +for the day an inner member of the Court of France, fresh from +delightful Paris, and from still more delightful Versailles, was really +more than an exiled lady of fashion in her position could just then have +dreamt. How he acquitted himself in her coach at the review and during +the beautiful afternoon drive to the Falls, how he kept the table +smiling at dinner, and of their walk in the Castle garden, with its low +cannon-embrasured wall along the cuff, it would scarcely profit the +reader to hear, except in one particular.</p> + +<p>On the shady lawn at Montmorenci—a name which thrilled him with sweet +associations—he stood in the midst of the picnic party and sang them +one of the current songs of the Bodyguard:—</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"Yes, I am a soldier—I,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">And for my country live—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">For my Queen and for my King</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">My life I'll freely give.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">When the insolent demagogue</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Loud rants at this and that,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Not less do I go singing round,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">'Vive an aristocrat!'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23%;">Yes, &c.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">To the Devil, Equality!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Your squalor I decline,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">With you I would no better be</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Nor sprung of older line.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23%;">Yes, &c.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">March on, my comrades gay,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Strike up the merry drums,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">And drink the Bourbons long, long life</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Whatever fortune comes.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23%;">Yes, &c."</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>Next morning her Excellency rose early to see him start upon his journey +up the river.</p> + +<p>One result followed, of which he did not know. La Naudière described his +visit to the de Lérys in connection with the account received by them +from Châlons. They again read over the paragraph and discussed it, and +de la Naudière pronounced decidedly that the man could not be the +same—the passport of the present individual did not bear the name of +Répentigny, and he was too perfect a gentleman.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">AT ST. ELPHÈGE</p> + + +<p>All afternoon of the day of his arrival at St. Elphège, lofty clouds had +been moving in threatening masses across the sky. When the Lecours were +rejoicing together at supper, a storm came on, producing a raw, wet +evening, which was not unwelcome to the reunited family, for it kept +them undisturbed.</p> + +<p>Old Lecour, to denote his satisfaction at his son's return, brought +forth his fiddle and played some of the merry airs of the Province, an +action which touched Germain's heart.</p> + +<p>"Is this the noble," exclaimed he to himself, as he looked, with a heart +full of affection, at the roughly-dressed, homely figure, "whom I would +produce to the Noailles, the Montmorencys and the Vaudreuils, as my +father? Perhaps not; but I would offer him before sounder judges as +their superior." But notwithstanding his goodwill, there is a limit +where content is impossible in such things.</p> + +<p>The Versailles <i>élégant</i> could not but see in everything about him an +inevitable contrast with his late life. He felt unable to re-accustom +himself to the low-ceiled chambers, the rude appliances, the rough +dress, the country manners, the accent and phrases of his +family—things in respect of which he had at one time believed them +quite superior. Whole-heartedly concealing his impressions and his +dejection, however, he made himself as pleasant as possible. Madame had +thrown open her parlour, a rare occurrence.</p> + +<p>When the rain began to beat against the windows, the old man called in +the Indian dwarf, and with his assistance made a fire of logs which +crackled merrily in the fireplace and threw cheerful, light and warmth +upon the circle.</p> + +<p>Madame lit her precious sconces of wax tapers for the first time since +her daughter's wedding, and all drew closer to listen to the accounts +which came from the lips of the long-absent son. The father put his +violin aside, seated himself in his tall-backed arm-chair and gazed +alternately into the fire and at his son's face. The mother hung upon +her favourite's words and movements as mothers ever will. The convent +girl, his youngest sister, worshipped him with eyes and ears—to her he +was the hero of her family, whom she could measure in the lists against +the vaunted brothers of her proud Quebec school-mates, Lanaudières, +Bleurys, la Gorgendières, Tonnancours and those others, who, familiar +with the doings of the Castle, looked down upon the trader's daughter.</p> + +<p>"What about this new name?" said the mother at length; "they have given +you a title in France?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, mother," he replied.</p> + +<p>"But they call you 'Monsieur de Lincy,' you say."</p> + +<p>"It is not a new name; it is the real one of the family—you are +entitled to it as well as I."</p> + +<p>"What does that mean, son Germain? Have we been ignorant of our own +name?"</p> + +<p>"It means that we are gentlepeople—and that in my father there, you +behold the real or principal Chevalier de Lincy. I am but the younger +Chevalier."</p> + +<p>The family, at this announcement, gave voice to a mutual cry. The father +looked up and said soberly—</p> + +<p>"You mistake, my son."</p> + +<p>"In no respect, dear father. I have learnt our descent in France, and am +glad to inform you that you are what you deserve to be—a noble."</p> + +<p>"There, François Xavier!" exclaimed the wife. "You are not going to deny +it."</p> + +<p>"Many good stocks forget their origin in going out to the colonies," +added Germain. "You, sir, crossed the sea at a very early age."</p> + +<p>"At twelve years old," asserted the merchant.</p> + +<p>"You were too young to make those inquiries which I have completed. You +knew little of your parents."</p> + +<p>"My father was a butcher of Paris; I know that."</p> + +<p>"That is an error, sir. Those you regarded as your parents were but +foster-parents, though they bore the same name."</p> + +<p>"Who, then, do you pretend was my father?" cried the merchant in +amazement. "There was no question of that matter before I left France."</p> + +<p>"Because your mother had died, and your father, who was a poor man, +though a gentleman, had departed for service in the East Indies, and +there was heard of no more."</p> + +<p>"In any event I do not care about these things. I shall always remain +the Merchant Lecour," the old man said, with steady-going pride.</p> + +<p>"But François Xavier!" cried his wife. "Have you no care about your +children and me? Is it nothing to us if we are <i>noblesse</i>? Will you be +forever turning over skins and measuring groceries when you ought to +have a grand house and a grand office, like the gentry of the North-West +Company at Montreal, who dine with the Governor, and are yet no better +off than you? I am sure <i>they</i> are no Chevaliers de Lincy".</p> + +<p>"I cannot believe it, wife. I know where I came from, and that I was +nothing but a boy sent out with the troops by the magistrates of +Paris"—Germain started—"then a poor private, and by good conduct at +length a <i>cantineer</i> of the liquor. Chevaliers are not of those grades, +as I well enough know, and I never heard of any good from a man getting +out of his place."</p> + +<p>The convent girl looked up in suspense at her hero for reply.</p> + +<p>"Listen, father," exclaimed Germain with a kind of gaiety, appreciating +the melancholy humour of the situation, "I have not only traced you up, +but shall show you the evidence. Carry in my little box while I bring +the black one."</p> + +<p>They brought the boxes in, and the small one—that with the gilt coat of +arms, from which Germain had taken his passport at Quebec—was put on +the table. Germain unlocked it, and brought out the de Lincy +genealogical tree.</p> + +<p>"Here," said he to his father, while the family crowded to look over +their shoulders, "you are the son of this one; I have seen and read your +baptismal register which records it, in the Church of St. +Germain-des-Prés."</p> + +<p>"True—that was my parish," the old man answered. "Are you certain that +my father was not——?"</p> + +<p>"Positive."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," old Lecour answered, somewhat reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"What a romance!" the married daughter cried.</p> + +<p>"I am about to show you some precious relics of our past," Germain +continued. "See what a store of parchments. Here are grants of +<i>noblesse</i> from the King, grants of titles, dispensations signed by the +Popes—do you know what these are?" he cried, taking out and putting on +his breast a couple of beautiful jewels, standing up as he did so.</p> + +<p>"Tell us!"</p> + +<p>"This," said he, "is the Commander's Cross of St. Louis; and that the +Order of the Holy Ghost."</p> + +<p>While they pushed forward in excitement to look closer at the +decorations, he bent, lifted the lid of the large black box and with +both hands raised before them an oil portrait of a gentleman in full +wig, velvet coat and ruffles.</p> + +<p>"That," said he, surveying it with becoming pride, "is our ancestor +Hypolite LeCour de Lincy. Sir," said he, laughingly turning to his +parent, "behold your father against your will."</p> + +<p>"Bravo, Monsieur my son," cried Madame Lecour.</p> + +<p>"Now I can make my old man dress like a gentleman. The next time I go to +Montreal, Lecour—or rather my Chevalier—I shall spend some of your +money on a peruke and a scarlet coat for you."</p> + +<p>"Holy Mary, save me!"</p> + +<p>"About that please the ladies, father," Germain put in; "but there is +another matter. Who drew your marriage contract?"</p> + +<p>"D'Aguilhe, the notary," his mother returned.</p> + +<p>"Is he of St. Elphège?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"He has, of course, omitted mention of your nobility."</p> + +<p>"He knew of none," said the merchant.</p> + +<p>"Then we must go to him with our titles, and he must rectify it +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"As you please, if it will suit you better," the merchant murmured.</p> + +<p>"I must be a Prince, for I create nobles," pronounced Germain, shaking +with fevered laughter, as he drew the sheets over him in the state bed +that night. His merriment was a pitiful cover for his desperation. In +his favour it is well to remember the dictum of Schopenhauer: that the +English are the only nation who thoroughly realise the immorality of +lying; and we must also keep in mind that the extent of his disorder was +a measure of the power of that passion which was its cause. Better +things were yet in him.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXVI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">AT MONTREAL</p> + + +<p>Next morning, after old Lecour had, with a heart full of content, and a +pipeful of tobacco, taken his son the round of his warehouses and +granaries, his piles of furs, his mountains of wheat, and the rising +vaults of what was to be his newest and greatest building, they set off +down the village street to the Notary's house.</p> + +<p>D'Aguilhe was of a famous breed of notaries, who had driven the quill +and handed it down from father to son from the earliest days of the +colony. When Lecour discovered that he was founding St. Elphège, one of +the first things he did was to jolt up to Montreal, and catch a young +scion of this race of d'Aguilhes, and here he had kept him making a +comfortable living at his profession ever since. It was therefore not +improper that the man of the <i>paraphe</i>—and a wondrous <i>paraphe</i> his +signature had, flourishing from edge to edge of a foolscap page, in +woolly and laborious curves—should, when called upon next morning, +treat his best client to his best office manners.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur d'Aguilhe," commenced old Lecour, "here is my son, who thinks +me a noble—and upon my honour I cannot argue against him; he is too +able for me."</p> + +<p>"Aha!" returned d'Aguilhe, pricking up his ears, and saying to himself, +"This looks like something important."</p> + +<p>"We desire," said Germain, taking the business into his own hands, "to +see the marriage contract of my father and mother."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Monsieur Germain," he answered, and going to his cupboards, +took his package of deeds for the year 1765, picked out the document and +handed it to Germain, who read a few lines at the beginning.</p> + +<p>"I see," the latter said, "that my father is improperly described here, +as you will observe by these documents I now place before you. He is +entitled to be called in this contract 'François Xavier LeCour, +Chevalier de Lincy.'"</p> + +<p>"A—ah!" exclaimed again the Notary, solemnly, raising his eyebrows and +poking over Germain's parchments.</p> + +<p>"Are they not correct?" asked Germain.</p> + +<p>"Without a doubt."</p> + +<p>"Is not my father the Chevalier de Lincy?"</p> + +<p>"It seems so."</p> + +<p>"Then we have only to ask, as it is a family matter, that you add this +name to the contract of marriage, and give us a copy."</p> + +<p>"It cannot be done, sir."</p> + +<p>Germain felt a check. He was silent.</p> + +<p>"Do not say that, d'Aguilhe," the merchant said; "if the boy wants it, +let him have it. What do I care?"</p> + +<p>"No sir, it cannot be done."</p> + +<p>"Cannot be done? for <i>me</i>? Have I done nothing for you, M. d'Aguilhe? +Have I not been a good client to you?"</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, sir, nothing can weigh with me against the rules of my +profession," pompously replied the Notary. "A Public Person must not +allow himself to be swayed by private considerations."</p> + +<p>"In what lies your difficulty in changing this deed?" Germain asked.</p> + +<p>"A deed once deposited in the archives of the Notary is sacred."</p> + +<p>"But you see a mistake has been made?"</p> + +<p>"Etiquette, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"You see that the honour of the family is concerned in rectifying that +mistake."</p> + +<p>"Etiquette, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"But is there no way? If I offer fifty livres for your advice upon a +way, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, that is different; the heart of the professional man +should open, and his knowledge be accessible to his client. There is a +way."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Obtain an order of the Judge upon me to add the required paragraphs to +my deed."</p> + +<p>"Here are your fifty livres."</p> + +<p>"I thank you, sir," and, so saying, d'Aguilhe put his quill behind his +ear and showed them politely to the door.</p> + +<p>Germain and his father—the father arrayed by Madame in his best black +coat—set, therefore, off for Montreal. They crossed the ferry near +Répentigny church, and drove through open country along the riverside +till, as evening drew on, they came in sight of the walls, the citadel +hill, the enchanting suburban estates and green Mount Royal in the +background, which denoted the city.</p> + +<p>They drew up in the court of a bustling inn, stabled their horse, went +to bed, and the next morning sought the house of a celebrated advocate, +the great Rottot. The great Rottot was chiefly known for his imposing +proportions, and no sight was thought so beautiful by the <i>habitants</i> as +that of his black silk leg, as, with his robe fluttering out in the +breezes, he seemed to be flying from his office across the street to the +court-house, followed by a bevy of clients.</p> + +<p>He listened, standing, to the respectful request of Lecour, helped out +in his explanations by Germain, who desired to have the pleader obtain +for them the requisite order of the Judge.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said he, "I see, gentlemen, you do not appreciate the importance +of your case. Such a matter ought to be made the subject of the +profoundest studies, and we should at length approach the Legislature +itself with a petition and demand the passage of a private bill. The +affair tempts my powers."</p> + +<p>"But we have no special wish for publicity."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, you know not what would be your good fortune. It would make +you the talk of the Province. <i>In re Lecour</i> would be a great +precedent."</p> + +<p>"Such is not our desire."</p> + +<p>"What! not to establish a precedent?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Advocate," Germain said firmly; "a simple petition to obtain +this order is what we want. We must have it, and quickly, and nothing +more."</p> + +<p>"Ah, then, this is what you want," said he. "I will draw it for you," +and, sitting down, he wrote out a document as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="n">"To the Honourable Judges of the Court of Common Pleas of the +District of Montreal:</p> + +<p>"The petition of François Xavier LeCour de Lincy, Esquire, residing +at St. Elphège, respectfully shews:—That when he contracted +marriage with Mademoiselle Lanier, he knew not that he was of noble +origin, having left Europe at a very early age with scarcely any +knowledge of his family; that since then he has learned of his +extraction and obtained his titles of <i>noblesse</i> which he now +presents to your Honours in evidence.</p> + +<p>"Wherefore may it please your Honours to grant an order upon +Maître d'Aguilhe, Notary, of St. Elphège, to add to the minute of +his contract of marriage the name and title of 'de Lincy, Esquire'; +and you will do justice."</p></div> + +<p class="n">"Sign, sir, please."</p> + +<p>François Xavier attached his signature.</p> + +<p>"It will do," Rottot sighed; "but I should have preferred the +precedent."</p> + +<p>They crossed the road and entered the court-room.</p> + +<p>A rubicund, easy-going old judge, Fraser by name, sat on the bench, the +royal arms painted large in oils on a canvas behind him. In front were a +lawyer or two and a few clients—a slack court. Rottot, with a flourish, +read the petition.</p> + +<p>The judge smiled. "Only a <i>habitant</i> from the country," he mused, +good-humouredly, "who wants to add some mouldy flourishes to his name. +Well, if it pleases him, let him have them. Does anybody oppose the +petition?" he said aloud. "No? Well, it is granted. Hand it up for my +signature."</p> + +<p>The astute Rottot had added the words—"Granted as prayed for, as well +as to all other deeds and writings."</p> + +<p>This gave Germain great satisfaction. With the precious order in his +pocket he spent a few hours reconnoitring the town, and especially the +headquarters of the garrison and the Governor's residence, the Château +de Ramezay.</p> + +<p>Returning to St. Elphège, he presented the order of the Court at once to +Maître d'Aguilhe, and obtained a copy of the amended marriage contract, +which he stored in his box as proof for use in France of the titles of +his father in Canada.</p> + +<p>While in Montreal he had determined to make that place also useful to +him. So, after a decent delay, he found lodging at an elegant little +house which suited him in St. Jean Baptiste Street, secluded behind +the great Convent of the Grey Nuns and yet not far away from garrison +headquarters.</p> + +<p class="img"><img src="images/i003.png" alt="image: Germain Lecour at the House in St. Jean Baptiste Street." /> +<br />Germain Lecour at the House in St. Jean Baptiste Street.</p> + +<p>His first act when he was left alone in his room was to don his uniform, +his next to take out of his pocket the certified copy of the marriage +contract of his parents which had been made for him by the Notary +d'Aguilhe. He conned it a minute, standing by the Louis XIV. mantel, +which may still be seen in that house, and sought but his mother's name. +"Dame Catherine Lanier," it read. He drew out his little inkstand and +quill, and, seizing a scrap of paper, tried some marks on it. Finding +the ink to his satisfaction, he carefully touched the point of the quill +to the contract and rapidly inserted the particle "de," making the name +"Catherine de Lanier."</p> + +<p>Rushing out of the house—it was afternoon—he sought relief in the open +air and garden-like freshness of Notre Dame Street, a thoroughfare up to +which the serried buildings of the "Lower Town"—for Montreal also had a +Lower and Upper Town, even within its contracted width—had not yet +crept, and which, situated on the top of the long, low ridge of the +city, commanded free views of the river, the town, and all the prominent +landmarks on one side, and of the fortification walls and the beautiful +country seats on the slopes towards Mount Royal on the other. At first +he noticed these alone, but gradually the wind from the west cooled his +blood, and his eyes became conscious of military men and frilled and +powdered people of fashion promenading the street to and from the +barracks, and of his uniform becoming, as at Quebec, a subject of public +curiosity. He stopped at length to note a prisoner in the town pillory, +when a promenader of somewhat frayed attire and a countenance which bore +marks of dissipation looked at him closely.</p> + +<p>"I know your face very well," said he, coming forward, "though I cannot +recall you. Do you remember any one of the name of Quinson St. Ours?"</p> + +<p>"Quinson St. Ours? I should think I do. Are you my old schoolfellow of +the Little Seminary?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was at the Little Seminary—I have not been wrong then—but it +is your name, my good schoolfellow, which escapes me; and now you look +so distinguished that I hope you are not going to forget a schoolmate on +that account?"</p> + +<p>"Never, sir. My name is the Chevalier LeCour de Lincy, officer of the +Guards of His Most Christian Majesty. I am the boy whom you knew as the +little Lecour of St. Elphège."</p> + +<p>The somewhat humble and seedy Quinson, black sheep of an excellent +family, was glad to brighten up his tarnished career as the cicerone of +so brilliant a butterfly, and only too proud to be the means of +introducing Germain to the young bloods of the city. At the end of the +week, when departing, Lecour gave a banquet, to which he invited all the +choicest spirits, and having brought the feast well on into the drinking +he said, casually—</p> + +<p>"I am about, gentlemen, to go from here into the American colonies +before I return to Europe and have a letter drawn which is necessary to +identify me, when requisite, in places where I shall be totally unknown. +Will you all do me the favour of signing it?"</p> + +<p>"By Pollux and Castor we will!" shouted St. Ours, decidedly vinous.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, friend," cried the others, and each in turn affixed his +signature to the paper laid on the table. It read—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="r">"<span class="smcap">Montreal</span>, <i>September 19, 1788</i>.</p> + +<p>"We, gentlemen of Montreal, voluntarily attest to whomsoever it +may concern that Mons. Germain LeCour de Lincy is a gentleman of +good character and standing in Canada, and son of Monsieur François +Xavier LeCour de Lincy, <i>Esquire</i>, an honourable person of St. +Elphège.</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot1"> +<p><br /> +(Signed) "<span class="smcap">Quinson de St. Ours</span>,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Longueuil</span>,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">De Rouville</span>, <i>fils</i>,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">St. Dizier</span>,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Louvigny de Montigny</span>,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">La Corne</span>, <i>fils</i>,"<br /> +</p></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0%;">and over thirty others.</p> + +<p>In this paper Germain had secured the apparent attestation of his claims +by many of the principal younger <i>noblesse</i> of the country. He made off +with it to St. Elphège, where he spent a week, drawing from his mother a +crowd of tales about the de Lérys and the LeGardeurs, which had been +gossiped around her when she was housekeeper to Governor de Beauharnois. +Then, under excuse of pressing business in France, he left St. Elphège +again.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXVII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">ONCE MORE THE SWORD</p> + + +<p>The widow Langlois was surprised to see her lodger return so soon to +Quebec. He saw quickly that she was dying of curiosity, and concluded +that he and his affairs had been the subject of town gossip since his +departure. He therefore contrived to give her an occasion to talk to +him.</p> + +<p>"There are certain malicious stories going about," she said to him +tentatively, "which I have been thinking very ungracious on the part of +our people."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, Quebec is always the same little hole. Do these stories relate +to me?"</p> + +<p>"I admit it with shame, Monsieur, and our Quebec, as you say, is a +little hole. Quebec people have nothing to talk about but the +strangers."</p> + +<p>"What can they invent about <i>me</i>? Have I scandalised your house or +ill-conducted myself at the Castle? God's-death! you promise me +entertainment. It will make this dull village amusing to hear the +product of their gigantic imaginations. Begin, I entreat you."</p> + +<p>"Some say you are not a Bodyguard, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ha, that is news; I shall have to tell that to Lady Dorchester. These +good judges know so much more of the Court of France than she does. What +else?"</p> + +<p>"It is alleged that you are no noble, your father being the Merchant of +St. Elphège."</p> + +<p>"Yes? My father's parchment titles would answer that. I will take the +occasion later on to show them to you."</p> + +<p>"And that you carried in France the name of the Marquis de Répentigny."</p> + +<p>"Who is the author of these tales, if you know him?" he said with +dignity. "What source first spread them among the people, for such +things have always an instigator?"</p> + +<p>"I would prefer not to tell, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>However, by a little flattery he won the point. She told him how her +brother-in-law, the Merchant Langlois, of Mountain Hill, had heard at +his own shop, from Madame de Léry herself, that a letter had been +received from Paris relating the doings of a young Canadian calling +himself de Répentigny, but who was identified by two other Canadians as +young Lecour of St. Elphège, and afterwards how he had fought with Louis +de Léry, of the Bodyguard, and nearly killed him, and had departed for +Canada in disgrace.</p> + +<p>"And it is most maliciously reported," added Madame Langlois, "that you, +sir, are without doubt the person in question."</p> + +<p>"Madame," exclaimed he, rising abruptly, as cold as an icicle, "I shall +see to this immediately."</p> + +<p>The widow was frightened.</p> + +<p>"I entreat you say nothing of this to Madame de Léry," she cried in +distress.</p> + +<p>"On that point you have the word of honour of a French officer," he +replied.</p> + +<p>As he hastily dressed himself he muttered, "Something radical now."</p> + +<p>He went, without delaying, to the de Léry mansion and was admitted face +to face with the Councillor.</p> + +<p>The house was a long, low, old-fashioned one, covered externally with +dark blue mortar in French provincial style, and internally presenting +every appearance of hospitality and comfort. The parlours in which +Germain was shown into the presence of the owner were hung about with +mellowed tapestry, and their doors and windows were open, leading out +upon a gallery and thence into a luxuriant garden. The old Councillor, a +fine-looking man, frank, hospitable, and perfectly bred, welcomed +Germain with a kindly manner just tinged with a shade of curiosity, and +awaited mention of his business.</p> + +<p>Lecour lost no time in coming to the point, stating the story that had +been circulated about him and that report attributed it to the de Lérys.</p> + +<p>"Nor is it, sir," concluded he, "the first time I have had in such +matters to complain of your family, for I have been given great trouble +in the Bodyguard by the reckless allegations of your son Louis, who was +unknown to me, but who circulated, of his own accord, the most injurious +accusations. Among other things he has stated that I was not noble, +because of my father being the Merchant of St. Elphège. Yet you knew +very well, sir, that my father is not a petty trader, and I have brought +here to-day documents by which I am ready to prove to you beyond +question that we are of good descent."</p> + +<p>"I regret," the Councillor answered, much disturbed, "that there have +been such unfortunate occurrences as you say. I am sure that from your +appearance and frankness in thus coming to me, there must be some +mistake. My son Louis is a man of strict honour; he must have acted on +hasty information. To do you entire justice, I shall make it my duty to +look over these documents, which are doubtless entirely correct, and +will then do the best in my power to rectify this injury so painful and +regrettable. A moment, sir."</p> + +<p>He went to the gallery and called out—</p> + +<p>"Panet."</p> + +<p>"Coming," a hearty voice returned from the garden.</p> + +<p>"It is my friend the Judge," remarked the Councillor, returning to the +room; "he will serve you as an excellent witness of the evidence you are +producing."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, your grapes this year are divine," exclaimed the Judge +entering, holding up a large bunch in his hand. He stopped and bowed to +Germain.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur LeCour de Lincy here has some papers to show us," de Léry +proceeded, "which refute that unfortunate report arising from the +letters of my son."</p> + +<p>Lecour produced his papers, and on perusal of them for some time, both +Panet and de Léry pronounced them perfect.</p> + +<p>"I owe you the sincerest formal apology, Monsieur de Lincy," de Léry +said.</p> + +<p>"More than that, sir," Germain returned stiffly. "You minimise the +damage done. A written retraction is due me, to exhibit in those +quarters where I have been so deeply injured, and without which I can +never wholly regain my reputation."</p> + +<p>"Not demurring, sir, I freely admit that we owe you this reparation. If +you will draw up and send me what will be useful to you, I shall gladly +sign it."</p> + +<p>"Stop, gentlemen, let me say a word," Judge Panet interposed. "Such a +writing being so delicate a matter, to be just to both parties, ought to +be drawn by a third. I think I am in a position to do this; will you +leave the matter to me?"</p> + +<p>"I am the person who was injured, and the only one who knows what will +effectively right me," Lecour answered;</p> + +<p>"He is correct," said de Léry.</p> + +<p>Panet did not push the point further but turned away, and the Chevalier +showed the young man out of the house.</p> + +<p>By noon, the following letter was received to sign—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="r">"<span class="smcap">At Quebec</span>, <i>the 2nd October, 1788</i>.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Monsieur</span>,—It is with much pleasure that I consent to grant you +the satisfaction you ask. I hereby confess that I have been wrong +in spreading the report that you have taken another name than that +of your family. I retract it publicly and I assure you in that +respect with the greatest frankness that I am fully convinced that +the story which led me to commit this indiscretion is absolutely +false and unworthy of you. I make you this reparation as being due +to your character, and I am sincerely mortified about the +misunderstanding which has caused you so much trouble.</p> + +<p class="beg3">"And I have the honour to be, sir,<br />"Yours, etc.</p> + +<p>"To M. LeCour de Lincy, officer of the Bodyguard of the company of +Noailles."</p></div> + +<p class="n">The old Councillor, one of the most respected men in the colony, grew +red with shame.</p> + +<p>"It is impossible for me, as a man of honour, to sign such a paper," he +said to himself. After walking up and down in his parlours, therefore, +he wrote a reply.</p> + +<p>The story of the Chevalier's life will help us to understand him in the +matter.</p> + +<p>He had, in his youth, under the French <i>régime</i>, won distinction as a +Canadian officer by many important services, and was entitled by written +promises of the Government of France, to money rewards alone of nearly +a hundred thousand livres. On the fall of the colony, however, when the +Canadian officers proceeded to the home country, they found a cold +shoulder turned upon them in the departments of Versailles, so ready to +waste immense sums for those in power and to ignore the barest dues of +merit. Among the rest, de Léry, his bosom burning with the distress of +his family in Paris, paced the corridors of the Colonial Office for +nearly two years. Monsieur Accaron, the cold and procrastinative +ex-Jesuit deputy of the First Minister, would reply—</p> + +<p>"I agree with you, sir, that these services are very distinguished; +still, Canada being no longer ours, it is to be admitted they have all +been useless."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," the soldier would return, "I have never understood that the +misfortunes of the brave lessen their rights."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, if you will but wait——"</p> + +<p>"I shall be enchanted to wait, and I beg of you to inform me of the +means of doing so. I have in Paris my wife and four children, and the +twenty louis to which his Majesty has reduced my allowance would not +support us in the most favoured province of France."</p> + +<p>After making such fruitless attempts, he said boldly to them one day—</p> + +<p>"I will return to Canada and try my fortune under a different Crown."</p> + +<p>"Do not so easily abandon hope," remarked Accaron coolly.</p> + +<p>De Léry, for reply, went to the British Ambassador, told him he had +heard high reports of the British nation and offered to become a subject +of the English King. In due time a man of so much sense and spirit was +received by George III. with satisfaction, as the first of the Canadian +gentry to enter his service, and as the Chevalier carried out his new +allegiance with the strictest sincerity, time only added to his esteem +and he became the favourite Councillor of Governor Dorchester.</p> + +<p>The same principles of honour, dignity, and good sense marked his +feeling in the present difficulty with young Lecour. The reply ran: that +the terms of the proposed letter were a surprise to him, that he was +anxious to serve his young friend and especially to place in his hands +the means of rectifying any injury done to him by unfortunate remarks or +rumours, but that it was impossible to grant the letter requested, and +he offered the following substitute:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="r">"<span class="smcap">At Quebec</span>, <i>the 3rd October, 1788</i>.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Monsieur</span>,—It is with great pleasure that I consent to testify in +your favour against the injurious rumours concerning you which some +persons have assumed to base upon my authority and that of my +family. After conversing about your papers and yourself with Judge +Panet and other persons of position, I am, equally with them, of +opinion that you have proven the falsity of the said rumours, and +that you are not the person to whom they relate, your father being +of great possessions in the country about St. Elphège, and of +repute throughout the whole Province as an honourable man.</p> + +<p class="r">"<span class="smcap">J. G. C. de Léry.</span>"</p></div> + +<p class="n">Germain tore the answer into pieces in a passion. "Not the person to +whom they relate!" he cried, "Who am I then, and what shelter would this +precious epistle give me against the son?" Stepping to his escritoir he +wrote back the following fiery note:—-</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="n">"<i>To Monsieur de Léry, Chevalier of St. Louis, at Quebec.</i></p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Monsieur</span>,—After having employed all honourable means to induce +you to grant me that satisfaction which you owe to me, I hereby +notify you that you can avoid dishonour only by one of two +alternatives: either by signing the letter sent you by me, +unaltered in any particular; or by being present this day at four +of the clock at the place called Port St. Louis, to render account +on the spot of the reports which you have been purposely spreading +against my honour, and to accord to me in your person the +satisfaction they deserve. I shall expect your answer at once upon +your reading this, and if by mid-day I have not received it, I +shall prove to you my exactitude to my word.—I am, sir (if you +accept either proposal), your servant with all my heart,</p> + +<p class="r">"<span class="smcap">LeCour de Lincy</span>."</p></div> + +<p class="n">While he was hotly engaged in penning this letter to the father, the +incidents of his duels with the son Louis crowded before him—the +counsels of his friends, the choosing of the weapons, the deadly tension +of the combat, the look of furious contempt in his adversary's eyes. It +was only after he had sent off Madame's man-of-all-work with it that the +incongruousness of challenging so old a man struck him.</p> + +<p>The Chevalier, on receiving the challenge, perceived at once the gravity +of his own situation. The code of the time demanded his acceptance. He +knew that, however a duel might be laughed at by boasters, the sober +truth was that it brought a man face to face with death, and that the +present cause of quarrel was not worth any such sacrifice. In short the +thing seemed to him foolish and unreasonable.</p> + +<p>No time was to be lost. He had therefore recourse for advice to his boon +companion Panet, who pronounced it a bad business.</p> + +<p>"Really," he said, moving nervously, "you must recognise, my dear de +Léry, that men of our stiffness and weight can have no chance pitted +against a young fellow from the fencing schools of Versailles. He has a +wrist as limber as a fish no doubt. Try to end the affair some way."</p> + +<p>De Léry, annoyed and disappointed that the judge did not rise to the +occasion, and thrown back on his own resources, went to Lord Dorchester +himself, requesting his mediation.</p> + +<p>The Governor read over the letters which had passed, especially that +sent by LeCour for signature.</p> + +<p>"Tut, what a young fool. Tell LaNaudiere there to send for him," he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>So in about half an hour Germain appeared.</p> + +<p>Guessing the state of the matter, he began by complaining of his wrongs +on the part of the de Lérys. He was listened to to the end by +Dorchester, who then, with the greatest politeness, but firmly, pointed +out the impossibility of any man of honour signing the proposed +confession.</p> + +<p>"Do you both agree, gentlemen, to leave the form of the letter with me?"</p> + +<p>Germain could not do otherwise.</p> + +<p>The Governor sat down at a writing-desk, laid the epistle before him, +and produced the following:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="n">"<span class="smcap">Monsieur</span>,—It is with great pleasure that I consent to testify in +your favour against certain injurious rumours affecting your +reputation and family name, which have been circulated by +unauthorised persons in the name of my household. You have clearly +proven to me that the rumours in question are calumnies without any +foundation, and I am sincerely affected concerning the pain they +have given you."</p></div> + +<p class="n">Dorchester read what he had written.</p> + +<p>"There is my award," he pronounced. "It is, in my opinion, all that one +gentleman ought to demand of another. Do you consider it fair each of +you?"</p> + +<p>Each declared it satisfactory.</p> + +<p>"Then sign it, Mr. de Léry," said the Governor promptly. De Léry signed +it.</p> + +<p>Dorchester gave it to Germain.</p> + +<p>"Are you satisfied?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, your Excellency."</p> + +<p>Germain thrust the letter in his breast and bowed himself out. On sober +thought he preferred it to his own. The same evening he sailed for +Europe. But not before he had secured the signature of the Bishop of +Quebec to a copy of his birth-certificate, altered according to the +judge's order procured at Montreal.</p> + +<p>Onward, onward, he impatiently counted the leagues of the sea by day. A +ravishingly fair face beckoned in his dreams by night.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXVIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE RECORD</p> + + +<p>On New Year's morning de Lotbinière was crossing the great courtyard of +the Louvre, when he heard the voice of Louis de Léry calling him. The +Bodyguard was hurrying forward with a curl of disgust on his lip, and +holding out an open letter.</p> + +<p>The Marquis, stopping, took it with a glance of inquiry.</p> + +<p>"More of the beast!" ejaculated Louis.</p> + +<p>The letter was one from Madame de Léry, relating with a woman's +indignation the proceedings of Germain during his first visit to Quebec.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu!</i> how disgusting," Louis exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"More than that—it is felonious," almost shouted the Marquis, great +veins swelling upon his forehead and his hand shaking with rage. "Should +the monster ever land again upon the shores of France from which I drove +him, my God, I will hang him! Leave me this letter."</p> + +<p>"The fellow is gross enough to return," said Louis scornfully. "What +could be plainer—his movements speak for themselves."</p> + +<p>Here a shabby individual stepped up, handed the Marquis a note, and at +the same time beckoned the two into a corner out of the crowd. The +billet was a scrap on which was written only—</p> + +<p class="c">"<span class="smcap">Lecour</span>."</p> + +<p>Mystery had a fascination for de Lotbinière. Not so for Louis, who was +impatient that so seedy a person should presume to stop them. Still, on +being handed the paper, he condescended to remain.</p> + +<p>"Craving pardon, my Lord," said Jude—it was of course he—in a low +voice, "I have word for you in this affair. Your powerful movements are +known to me."</p> + +<p>"Indeed?"</p> + +<p>"I know your sentiments on the impostor."</p> + +<p>"And you wish me to buy some information from you?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur le Marquis—he is my enemy also: I ask no price, only your +co-operation with a humble individual like myself."</p> + +<p>"Speak on."</p> + +<p>"It is all letters to day, my Lord. I heard you both discuss that of +Madame de Léry."</p> + +<p>"You are a spy, then?" asked Louis tartly, scorn flashing across his +face.</p> + +<p>"An <i>observer</i>, Monsieur—one of the King's secret service."</p> + +<p>"A 'Sentinel of the nation,'" the Marquis said, only the more deeply +interested, smiling and tendering his snuff-box to Jude graciously.</p> + +<p>"And next?" added he.</p> + +<p>"Next, too, is a letter. I watched the mails addressed to his +correspondents and friends here. This is a letter to his valet."</p> + +<p>The Marquis took it. It read—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="beg">"<span class="smcap">Dover</span>, <i>6th January, 1789</i>.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Dominique</span>,—Prepare for me within ten days after you +receive this.</p> + +<p class="r">"<span class="smcap">De Lincy.</span>"</p></div> + +<p class="n">"<i>Peste!</i>" hissed the Marquis.</p> + +<p>Jude pressed a folded paper into his hand, slipped behind a pillar and +disappeared, and the two relatives joined the crowd. The Marquis that +day made copious entries in his journal.</p> + +<p>His life was now entirely engrossed in the controversy with LeCour. As a +Frenchman the occupation was dear to his heart. What Norman does not +love a lawsuit? What Parisian, politics? The journal became even more +complete and exact on the matter and teemed with expressions of contempt +thrust home to the heart of the absent adversary. It recapitulated +minutely the manner in which LeCour had been discovered wearing the +Répentigny name; the refusal of the slayer of Philibert to punish him; +the change of name to de Lincy, which de Lotbinière shrewdly attributed +to the genealogist; the conduct of de Bailleul; the real origin of the +Lecour family, with the history of the father; the duels with Louis, and +his vexations on account of the matter; the writer's journey to Châlons, +Troyes, and Versailles, the circumstances of the disappearance of +Germain, and the news of his actions in Canada.</p> + +<p>After bringing his account down to date with a description of the +written proofs collected, he laid the journal aside, opened the drawer +of his secretary and took out a folio sheet of an exceedingly heavy +wrapping-paper. This he bent over so as to make it into something +resembling the cover of a book, then cut a lining of white unruled +foolscap for this improvised cover, and taking out his paste-pot, fitted +it neatly to the inside. Next he clipped up a length of linen tape and +by means of wafers attached eight pieces of it as ties to the top, +bottom, and sides. The whole constituted one of those record-covers +which he had been taught to make for the papers of special enterprises +in his profession. On the outside he pasted a small square labelled:—</p> + +<table summary="papers" cellpadding="25" style="text-align:center;border: solid 1px black;" cellspacing="0"> +<tr><td> +PAPERS<br /> + <br /> +RELATIVE TO LECOUR,<br /> +RÉPENTIGNY, DE LINCY,<br /> + <br /> +<span class="smcap">et cetera</span>.<br /></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>There was, he considered, a fine turn of irony in "<i>et cetera</i>."</p> + +<p>The record-cover completed, he surveyed it front and back with +satisfaction, tried the ties, read the inscription over once more, and +opened it. In it he placed a long "<i>Extract from my journal</i>," written +with care in his beautiful handwriting and bound with a tiny ribbon.</p> + +<p>Next, he added some letters of Collinot to himself and de Léry. These +were followed by copies of his own to the latter. His epistle of +reproach to de Bailleul came next. Then a genealogical memorandum of the +family of LeGardeur. Then Madame de Léry's letter from Canada; after it +a solemn statement which he had caused to be drawn by Quartermaster +Villerai of Châlons. Then the folded paper left by Jude, which was a +copy of the damaging entry discovered by him in the books of the church +of St. Germain-des-Prés. Some lesser documents added to these made up +the nucleus of a <i>dossier</i> or Record—an armoury of weapons which were +to be gathered for the complete and final destruction of the usurper, +should he again set foot in France.</p> + +<p>Only a day or two passed when another letter came to him from Madame de +Léry. It related the actions of Germain on his second visit to Quebec, +dwelling, with the rage of a proud woman, on what had passed between her +husband and the young man. Judge Panet, too, had joined his efforts to +hers, and rapidly tracked Germain's intrigues from Notary d'Aguilhe to +the Judge and the young gentlemen of Montreal, and from the Governor at +Quebec to the sacristy of the cathedral. He therefore was able to +enclose a packet of letters and affidavits arranged in order, and which +included among others—</p> + +<p>1. A long foolscap statement by d'Aguilhe, in which the Notary of St. +Elphège took care to duly magnify his own dignity and precautions.</p> + +<p>2. A copy of the Lecour petition to insert the titles into the contract +of marriage.</p> + +<p>3. A letter from Chief Justice Fraser about the granting of the +petition.</p> + +<p>4. A copy of the marriage contract of Lecour's parents showing the +alterations.</p> + +<p>5. A letter from Lord Dorchester on the duel arbitration, addressed to +Madame de Léry, and sealed with his seal.</p> + +<p>6. One from the Bishop of Quebec.</p> + +<p>7. A copy, signed by him, of the true birth-certificate of Germain.</p> + +<p>8. A total repudiation by Quinson St. Ours of the affair of the banquet +at Montreal.</p> + +<p>9. A letter from General Gabriel Christie, Commander-in-Chief of the +forces in Canada and proprietor of the Seigniory of Répentigny: "I +declare upon my honour that I have never sold my Seigniory of +Répentigny."</p> + +<p>Letters and certificates from nearly all of the most prominent of the +French gentry of the colony concerning Lecour, his family, and his +pretensions.</p> + +<p>The affair was causing a rustle among the entire alliance, and the +letters were full of the terms, "my dear cousin," "uncle," "brother," +&c.</p> + +<p>D'Aguilhe (No. 1) said, among other things, "The probity and good faith +which should be the basis of the actions of all men, and more +particularly those of a <i>Public Person</i>, preserved me from condescending +to the reiterated demands made upon me by the Sieurs Lecour, father and +son, to myself make the additions of the titles in question to the said +contract, a thing which I refused absolutely, giving them plainly to +understand that a deed received by a Notary, made and finished in his +notariat and enregistered, was a <i>sacred thing</i>, to which it could not +<span class="smcap">BE PERMITTED TO ANY ONE TO MAKE THE SLIGHTEST ALTERATION WITHOUT +PROFOUND DISGRACE</span>."</p> + +<p>Chief Justice Fraser (No. 3) wrote: "Some time ago I heard some rumours +current about Monsieur LeCour, but I had no idea I had played a <i>rôle</i> +in the affair. Here are the facts: In September last a Guard of his +Majesty the King of France presented himself with his papers, which +appeared to me as much in proper form as foreign papers could seem to +me. He presented a petition to me to be permitted to add the names 'de +Lincy' and 'Esquire' to his documents. I allowed it. I had no suspicion +that the Guard or his papers were impostures. In any event, I reap from +this incident the pleasure of corresponding with Madame de Léry."</p> + +<p>The letter of Quinson St. Ours (No. 8) read: "Sir and dear relative,—I +should deem myself lacking in what I owe both to you and to myself were +I to neglect to destroy the suspicion you have formed of my conduct in +the affair of Monsieur, your son, against Lecour. I can give you my word +of honour that I always refused to give my signature to his different +petitions. My brother informs me that you say 'that several of your +friends, and even of your relations at Montreal, certified that Monsieur +Lecour was a gentleman.' I am not of their number, and I do not know +that family."</p> + +<p>The Marquis eagerly read the packet through, digested its contents, +blessed his ally Panet for his professional methodicality, and placed +the papers in order in the Record.</p> + +<p>After the flight of more than a century, this Record, yellow and faded +and a little worm-eaten, but complete even to its wax seals, its +wire-headed pins, and the thin gilt edges of the correspondence paper, +lies before the writer of these pages, a vivid fragment of the old +<i>régime</i>, a witness to the hatred, the activity, the very thoughts, as +it were, of the enemies of Lecour, and revealing his perils from their +inner side.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XXXIX</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE MARQUIS'S VISITOR</p> + + +<p>On the very day after the Panet documents were added to the Record a +visitor called upon the Marquis.</p> + +<p>"The 25th of January," records the latter in his journal, "there entered +my apartments, about half-past ten in the morning, a young man, wearing +a sword and a hat with a white plume, his suit entirely of black +knitcloth with trimmings to match, of middle height, firmly built and +well-looking, skin fine with plenty of colour, eye nearly black, soft +and somewhat large, surmounted by a black eyebrow."</p> + +<p>"My name is Monsieur de la Louvière, Gendarme of the Guard," he said. "I +come on the part of the Chevalier de Bailleul respecting the matter of +Monsieur LeCour."</p> + +<p>"Be seated, sir," replied the Marquis with interest, indicating a chair +near his writing-desk, at which he himself sat down. "Is this Lecour +known to yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I am a friend of his," replied M. de la Louvière.</p> + +<p>"Where is he now?"</p> + +<p>"A week ago he was in England."</p> + +<p>"Have you not heard that he is an impostor?"</p> + +<p>"I only know, sir, that he is a very unfortunate man, and that you, who +have so interested yourself against him, have only to show him leniency +and kindness and you would be surprised at his gratitude. I carry the +appeal of the Chevalier to you, desirous of seeing whether the trouble +cannot be amicably arranged."</p> + +<p>"Tell the Chevalier de Bailleul, sir, that all who bear the name of +Canadian have a claim upon my good nature, particularly any son of a +servant once in my employ. I shall oppose him no further, provided he +but at once replace himself in his own rank. I only, secondly, exact +that the honour of Monsieur de Léry, as the nephew of Madame my wife, be +completely cleared and sustained with his comrades and officers." The +Marquis here noticed that the Record was lying upon the table under the +eyes of the stranger, but the latter continued the conversation.</p> + +<p>"That can be done. But it ought to be so arranged as not to interfere +with the standing, for the present, of Monsieur Lecour, because, +Monsieur le Marquis, one of his protectors, the Duc de Liancourt, has +arranged to bestow on him the commandancy of his cadet institute in the +provinces."</p> + +<p>"An infinitely better position for him than remaining in the company of +Noailles," remarked de Lotbinière, removing the Record from the table, +"seeing the Bodyguards have caught the rumour of his birth."</p> + +<p>"But it is a part of the arrangement that he should stay in the +Bodyguard eighteen months longer."</p> + +<p>"Why should such a person be so much considered? Monsieur de Léry has +done nothing more than tell the exact truth, which is the duty of a man +of honour when pressed by his superiors. He has been most properly +avenged; I see nothing left to arrange."</p> + +<p>"But he would be still exposed to a challenge to fight."</p> + +<p>"His officers have forbidden him to fight with an inferior."</p> + +<p>"There remains the certainty of a caning."</p> + +<p>"What do you wish to be done?"</p> + +<p>"That Monsieur de Léry should merely say off hand before his friends +that what he had told of Monsieur Lecour was said at hazard."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir, tell the Chevalier de Bailleul that when I said I was +willing to arrange that affair amicably I did not know that he would +dare to propose that I commence by consenting to the formal and complete +dishonour of Monsieur de Léry. Judge, now, whether a proposal of the +sort could be made to me about the cousin-germain of my children?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Marquis, this was not exactly my meaning, nor that of +Monsieur de Bailleul."</p> + +<p>"Inform Monsieur de Bailleul," cried de Lotbinière, "that he must feel +it impossible, and that all is finished and over by the orders given to +each of them by their respective adjutants."</p> + +<p>"No, sir," the stranger sternly cried, in reply, "all is <i>not</i> finished, +for so unpardonable have been the offences of Monsieur de Léry towards +Monsieur Lecour that <i>only one of them must live</i>."</p> + +<p>"Then let him kill Lecour instead of some one of his comrades, who would +make life intolerable to him were he to show himself such a coward as +you have proposed. Has he not proved a brave man to have fought so +often, and with that fellow so below his dignity? As for me, knowing +what I owe to myself, I should refuse most scrupulously to compromise +myself with any one who was not of my station. Were I attacked in a +street by such a man, I should defend my life with the greatest spirit; +but never under the arrangements of an affair <i>en règle</i>. Such has +always been my way of conduct, according to the truest principles of +honour."</p> + +<p>"Of honour!" the stranger exclaimed sarcastically; "and who taught de +Léry to apply these principles to a fellow Bodyguard?"</p> + +<p>"He acted, as I have said, under the advice of his superior officers, +especially of Monsieur de Villerai, who is his relative, and a Canadian +gentleman of distinguished ancestry."</p> + +<p>"Ancestry! de Villerai of distinguished ancestry! This, then, is the man +who has undertaken to crush my friend Lecour on the question of +extraction! All the world knows that his paternal uncle, of the same +name as he, is a common carter in Quebec, and his children in the last +ditch of squalor and degradation."</p> + +<p>De Lotbinière's countenance changed as quickly as though he had been +stabbed.</p> + +<p>"To the sorrow of his family, you speak but too truly, although the +father was educated very differently. His misfortune was to have married +a fool, who supposed herself obliged, as the wife of a gentleman, to +dissipate their substance in innumerable petty entertainments; but from +this the only rightful conclusion to be drawn is that that branch has +derogated from <i>noblesse</i>, and can no longer pretend to enjoy for the +future the state of its ancestors. But Monsieur Lecour must know well +that, as for the branch of the Chevalier de Villerai, the further back +you go in his family tree in Canada the more brightly his <i>noblesse</i> +stands forth in splendour."</p> + +<p>"His grandfather," the stranger retorted scornfully, "was a runaway +bankrupt out of the prison of Rouen. And who is this de Léry? His +father, during the siege of Quebec, instead of confronting the enemy, +went buying up cattle in the parishes to sell over again to the +commissariat at the expense of the misery of an expiring people."</p> + +<p>"Who told you that?" cried de Lotbinière in a passion. "Who is the +author of such an infamy? I have heard that story told of Monsieur de +Lanaudière, but it is as false of one as of the other. It was to Captain +de Lanaudière that the compulsion of farmers to bring in provisions was +entrusted, but even he went out as an officer doing duty, and never as a +trader in beef. Lies, all lies!"</p> + +<p>"Let that pass, then," said the unknown Gendarme of the Guard; "but +though I can understand de Léry's reporting to his superior on being +pressed for information, it was nothing less than ignoble and disgusting +of him to have spread these tales concerning my friend among his +comrades."</p> + +<p>"What!" returned de Lotbinière, "when Lecour was wearing the name of his +uncle!"</p> + +<p>"If he wore it he did not seek it; it was his companions who gave it to +him."</p> + +<p>"To have worn it at all, sir, admits of no excuses."</p> + +<p>"It was never dishonoured by him; it suffered in nothing."</p> + +<p>"That may be, but it does not destroy in the slightest this most sacred +principle of society, that each one carry his true name and not that of +another."</p> + +<p>The stranger lost patience.</p> + +<p>"Eh, but, sir," he cried, "this name is not so precious! This name is +not so precious, I say, after the adventure of the eldest of the family, +who was hung in effigy in that country for having assassinated a worthy +citizen of Quebec on his doorstep at the entrance to the Upper Town. And +my friend Lecour possesses the proofs of it. It was Panet who was the +judge that condemned him for the assassination and ordered him hanged in +effigy."</p> + +<p>"Hold," returned the Marquis, "Panet the judge? Does your friend not +know that Monsieur Panet was only a simple attorney in the days of the +French <i>régime</i>? I see that you are very badly informed. He of whom you +speak was my best friend from childhood, and without question one of the +most estimable men Canada ever produced. This is what befell: His +quarters as an officer were given him upon Philibert, a man who, having +kept a bakery, furnished the King's store with bread for the soldiers at +Quebec, whence he grew to look upon himself as the King's +<i>munitionnaire</i>, and exempt from providing quarters. Monsieur de +Répentigny presents his order for lodgings. Philibert refuses. +Répentigny replies, 'This must be settled either with the +Lieutenant-General, whose written order this is, or with the +Intendant—but I must be lodged either by you or by some one else.' +Philibert, who was a brute, and filled himself with wine at every meal, +goes after his dinner and insults the Intendant, who threatens him with +prison unless he arranges for Monsieur de Répentigny. The man, leaving +there, rushes, drunk with anger and wine, to Monsieur de Répentigny, +whom he covers with the most insolent and revolting expressions. +Répentigny turns him out of his chamber. Philibert, continuing his +outrageous shouts, ends by delivering the officer a violent stroke of +his cane. Monsieur de Répentigny then, as one might well do on such +sudden pain and provocation, drew out his sword and ran him through the +body, so that he died a couple of days afterwards. That, sir, is your +assassination without cause! Then the Sovereign Court of course was +obliged to order his decapitation in effigy—not his hanging, as you +say; and such is the measure of truth in the information which is given +you by that young man on the occurrences of his native colony."</p> + +<p>The Marquis's voice having risen in a towering fury, it was impossible +to say any more to him, and the Gendarme of the Guard, with a smile, +rose and bowed himself out. Immediately after his departure, the Marquis +uttered a sudden exclamation.</p> + +<p>He hastened to the lodging of his nephew, and asked him, in great +excitement, what was the personal appearance of Lecour. By close +comparison he arrived at the confirmation of his suspicion—that his +visitor had been none other than the adventurer himself.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XL</a></h3> + +<p class="c">AN UNEXPECTED ALLIANCE</p> + + +<p>Fortified with the glimpse into the camp of his adversaries which his +bold call upon de Lotbinière gave, Germain lost no time in making his +preparations for the approaching battle. Grancey, at Troyes, received a +hasty line from him—</p> + +<p>"Complete proofs now ready; am coming."</p> + +<p>The Baron was among a group of comrades in his chambers when the note +arrived. He immediately ordered wine, over which they discussed in +heated terms of sympathy the persecution of their friend and comrade.</p> + +<p>When Germain appeared at the gates it seemed as if sunshine had returned +to the company. To him their happy faces were an exhilaration, and he +felt as if he were living once more. His fellow-officers rushed towards +him, and the Guardsmen crowded around. He was besieged with questions, +refreshments were brought to him, and they carried him in triumph to his +former chambers, which they had decorated with flowers. As soon as he +could he made his way to Collinot, and asked that a time be fixed for +the hearing of his case.</p> + +<p>"This day fortnight at ten of the clock before noon," Collinot said in +his decisive, military manner.</p> + +<p>Lecour saluted and retired, and the Adjutant wrote a notice for de Léry +to prepare his counter-proof.</p> + +<p>Both sides entered into the contest with the utmost activity.</p> + +<p>Germain's party gave him a banquet, whereat he, crowned with honours and +elated by the surrounding enthusiasm, made an oration which sent all +those present forth after the festivity to spread again the burning +conviction of his stainless honour and of the shameful conduct of his +enemies. It was all a desperate game, as he knew perfectly well. But the +stake was high—the object of his life—Cyrène.</p> + +<p>Louis de Léry immediately sent to de Lotbinière the notice he received +from Collinot. The measures of the Marquis were varied and vigorous.</p> + +<p>First he took the Record with him, and travelled posthaste to Châlons, +where he asked de Léry to take him to their relative, de Villerai.</p> + +<p>"You are the man to present this, my dear Villerai," said he. "Being in +this distinguished corps, you have an influence to which none of the +rest of us can pretend. I leave the papers in your hands. You have +merely to hand them to the Prince de Poix or Adjutant Collinot to secure +absolutely the obliteration of that <i>canaille</i>."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly. Leave them with me. They shall be perfectly safe +in my possession. Believe me, dear de Lotbinière, I shall do everything +excellently for you."</p> + +<p>De Lotbinière, reading the easy-going face of the bluff epicurean in +uniform, said to himself, "If it required any brains I could not trust +you."</p> + +<p>The Record was therefore left in de Villerai's charge.</p> + +<p>De Lotbinière next went to Paris and wrote to Collinot, stating that de +Villerai would be on hand on the day appointed, prepared to present the +de Léry side of the case. He furthermore wrote to the Count de +Vaudreuil, reminding him of the Canadian connections of his family, and +invoking his exalted interest at Court against the intruder upon their +social rights. The Prince de Poix was likewise reminded by him, in a +letter, of the decision he had expressed against Lecour during their +interview some months before.</p> + +<p>These precautions taken, he remained in Paris, confidently awaiting the +outbreak of his powder mines and the destruction of the <i>parvenu</i>. +Matters lay in a condition of suspense until the fateful hour.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon of the day previous the Châlons diligence brought a +stranger who sought out Germain in his quarters. The face was so +familiar that Germain's attention was riveted upon him.</p> + +<p>"You do not know me, I see," said the man; "but I am come to do you a +good turn, a fine turn, a noble turn."</p> + +<p>By something erratic in his look Lecour recognised the would-be slayer +of de Léry, and his hand crept towards the hilt of his sword.</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid of me," said the maniac; "we are allies."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid," Lecour answered. "What do you wish of me?"</p> + +<p>"To give you this," Philibert exclaimed gaily, handing him a packet. +"Take it; your battle is won."</p> + +<p>With incredulous wonder Lecour looked at the parcel.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who I am?" the stranger cried.</p> + +<p>"You are Philibert," replied Lecour.</p> + +<p>"I am The Instrument of Vengeance," the other corrected, and departed +without a bow.</p> + +<p>On opening the packet Germain, to his utter astonishment, found de +Lotbinière's Record, the precious armoury collected with so much labour +by his enemies and so necessary to their case.</p> + +<p>As he looked over the documents it contained and felt the sharpness of +the different thrusts, he turned hot and dizzy; but the fact that this +great find was in his possession, and lost to his opponents, gave him +inexpressible satisfaction. He pored over them till far past midnight, +when at last his feeling of exultation gave way to overwhelming remorse. +His aspect suddenly became that of haggard misery itself; his head +dropped, and he murmured in a low, agonised voice, "Is poor Germain +Lecour really a liar, a pretender, a forger, a——" Aghast, his lips +refused to pronounce the word.</p> + +<p>His head dropped still lower; at the movement something fell out of his +breast upon the floor. For some moments he did not perceive it. "Yet +these things—liar, pretender, forger—what are they more than words +contrived by the powerful to condemn the doings of the weak? Whom have I +wronged? Have not I only defended myself? Why should the contrivances of +society—not mine—stand between me and all that is worth living for?" +His glance at length lighted upon the object which had fallen from his +bosom—a large locket. The fall had sprung open its lid, and he was face +to face with the miniature image of Cyrène. The light of his consuming +passion flamed in his strangely transformed eyes.</p> + +<p>"For you, everything," he murmured, sobbing.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">A POOR ADVOCATE</p> + + +<p>The Prince, as Colonel of the company, came specially to Troyes by the +desire of Collinot, though the trouble bored him, for he liked Germain, +and would never have raised the question concerning his birth had it +merely come to his knowledge without the scandal of formal charges. To +keep the company in as aristocratic shape as possible as part of his +establishment was a thing in which his princely <i>éclat</i> was concerned. +He came bringing with him his wife's father, the Duke of Beauveau, +Marshal of France. The Marshal, whose white hair, stately form, and +liberal ideas were universally blessed throughout the kingdom, was a man +of singular firmness and kindness in what he considered to be right. He +it was who, as Viceroy of Languedoc, had released the fourteen Huguenot +women who, on account of their religion, had languished in the dungeons +of the Tower of Constance till their heads became blanched with age, and +who had fallen at his feet when the Tower was opened for his inspection. +The frantic demands of bigotry and the repeated orders of the Minister +on that occasion produced no effect upon his pitying heart.</p> + +<p>"For justice and humanity," he answered, "plead in favour of these poor +creatures, and I refuse to return them under any less than the direct +order of the King." The King, to his credit—it was Louis XV.—stood +firm also. Beauveau it was, likewise, who refused support to Maupéou's +infamous scheme to stifle the whole magistracy and rule the country +without a court of justice.</p> + +<p>The garrison of Troyes and the company considered the advent of the +Marshal their opportunity for a grand review, and an invitation had been +sent to the company de Villeroy, who came over from Châlons. Nominally +the Lecour affair did not enter into the consideration of the +authorities, but there was no doubt that it was the grand topic of +excitement among both corps of the Bodyguard.</p> + +<p>At ten of the clock—the appointed hour—the Marshal, accompanied by the +Prince, entered the hall where Germain stood ready for the +investigation. The breast of the old Commandant was covered with stars +and well-earned distinctions, and the glittering Order of the Holy +Ghost, with its crust of great diamonds, scintillated upon it. Before +him, on the table was Germain's document-box open. Collinot sat beside +it, examining the papers, one after another. Nobody else was present.</p> + +<p>The Marshal was given the great chair of honour, and the Prince another +beside him. The latter sat furtive and uncomfortable. Lecour experienced +a sensation of his own immense inferiority to the grand soldier who was +sitting as his judge, and he felt helpless and uncertain in such hands.</p> + +<p>"Adjutant," began the Marshal, "where are the parties? Is this gentleman +Monsieur de Lincy?"</p> + +<p>Collinot assented. Germain bowed and turned ghostly white.</p> + +<p>"Have you examined his credentials, and how do you find them?"</p> + +<p>"They appear correct, my Lord Duke."</p> + +<p>"Are the accusers not here?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they are delayed, my Lord."</p> + +<p>"It is a grave thing to keep a man in suspense over an accusation."</p> + +<p>All waited silently several minutes. Every second seemed to pull with +the tug of a cable on Germain's beating heart.</p> + +<p>The door opened. In hurried the Chevalier de Villerai, heated, rubicund, +confused, and his uniform partly in disorder, saluting the Marshal as if +bereft of his senses.</p> + +<p>"Your Excellency—your Grace, I mean—I—I—most humbly—your +Excellency—ah—pardon me, your Grace."</p> + +<p>"Entirely, Quartermaster. You represent Monsieur de Léry, I presume?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but—but—but——" Villerai stammered, and stopped, his face +growing redder.</p> + +<p>"Proceed quite tranquilly, Monsieur de Villerai," the Marshal remarked. +"What accusation do you bring against Monsieur de Lincy?"</p> + +<p>Villerai cast an uncomfortable glance at Germain, then he blurted out +"That he is—an—some say an im——. I confess I know nothing against +the gentleman myself—he seems to be a very nice young man, but Monsieur +de Léry says he is something of that sort."</p> + +<p>"And that his proper title is not de Lincy, but that he is the son of a +merchant in Canada who is no noble?" Collinot added.</p> + +<p>"You know nothing against him yourself?" Beauveau asked of Villerai.</p> + +<p>"Nothing myself, very true."</p> + +<p>"You bring evidence, then?"</p> + +<p>"My Lord—Marshal we have no evidence. I throw myself on your +goodness—I had some papers with the contents of which I am +unacquainted—but where they are I—I—pardon me your Excellency—this +is a very unfortunate affair."</p> + +<p>"I think so, Monsieur de Villerai. Your friends have brought to trial a +perfectly innocent man—they have allowed him, for several months, to +remain under the intolerable vexations of the ban of society, and to +stand deprived of his birthright as a gentleman—have destroyed him at +Court—have almost blighted his career—have forced him to expose his +life to the ocean, to take far-off and highly perilous journeys to +collect his defences—and have compelled him more than once to brave +mortal combat. They have done all this, as it appears, while his claims +were perfectly regular, and while they themselves fail to produce the +slightest atom of evidence against him beyond the unsupported assertions +of their own family. What am I, as patron of this regiment, and a +military man of sixty years' experience, to say to this state of +things?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse my—my Lord," de Villerai cried in desperation. "I said our +proofs are lost."</p> + +<p>"It was your duty to have properly kept them. The opportunity for trial +has been given. The accused has responded and cleared himself. You may +depart, sir."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Lincy," continued he, addressing the latter, with an +alteration from his severe tone to the kindest of voices, "it almost +moves me to tears to think of the indignities to which you have been +subjected. Your honour is absolved, and Major Collinot is requested to +make entry of this fact on the registers of the company, to avail you in +case these charges should ever be repeated. You are reinstalled with +your full rank and record, and moreover, in order that your +reinstallment may be unequivocal in the eyes of the public, I appoint +you my special <i>aide-de-camp</i> for the review of this morning. Horse +yourself and report at my apartments."</p> + +<p>Lecour had stood throughout the interview perfectly motionless—almost +statuesque, except a slight clinching of the hands at times. His +feelings, however, were at the highest possible tension, and his eyes +observant of the slightest changes on the faces of those concerned, and +when he found de Villerai—who was a stranger to him—so helpless, a +feeling of triumph unexpectedly possessed him. He knew, of course, about +the Record—- divined that de Villerai had been entrusted with it—in +fact, through the mysterious means related, it was safe above their +heads locked in his own sleeping chamber. But what he had been uncertain +of was what sort of a man the Quartermaster would turn out to be as a +representative of de Léry—what kind of a case he would make without the +writings—how much of them he would recite—how that recital would be +received by the tribunal—and whether the tribunal would have any regard +whatever to the evidence or condemn him by some instinct of caste +prejudice. While turning these thoughts over like lightning in his mind, +they were brought to a standstill by the pronouncement of Marshal de +Beauveau and the sudden relief and violent sense of gratitude produced +by the old soldier's sympathetic address to himself.</p> + +<p>He felt he had won Cyrène.</p> + +<p>He mounted the staircase to his apartment as if his feet were winged. +The quarters were deserted. The company had already mustered and marched +to the review ground, a levelled field adjoining the boulevarded +rampart, surrounded with willow trees and known as the Champ-de-Mars. +Germain, as he approached it, riding with the Marshal and the Prince, +felt as he had not since he had first put on the uniform of the +Bodyguard. His spirit seemed to prance with joy like the horse beneath +him. He had now that security, the want of which had caused him such an +ocean of misery; he felt that his enemies were now conquered, and that +Cyrène was at last his.</p> + +<p>Thus they rode to the Champ, where he could see the various regiments, +drawn up at the "attention," in a long, brilliant line, their arms +shining in the sun, the two companies of the Bodyguard mounted, in their +centre, with their magnificent standards and gorgeously arrayed bands. +It was a thrilling and beautiful sight.</p> + +<p>When they came to the edge of the Champ, the horses of the Marshal and +his staff quickened pace, and soon, galloping down the field, they +passed in front of the whole division, every eye both of soldiers and +spectators levelled towards them. Lecour was the object of intense +interest. At this conspicuous moment the Marshal called him to his side +and entrusted him with a general order to pass to the commanders of the +regiments.</p> + +<p>Germain galloped first to the company of Noailles and passed the order +with a grave salute to the Prince, who had taken his position in front +of it as Colonel. As he did so, the enthusiasm of his companions got the +better of their discipline, and they broke into a loud, prolonged cry of +"Vive de Lincy!" The members of the company of Villeroy had, as a body, +always felt more or less contrary in the affair to their companion de +Léry, and there was a party who had strongly favoured Germain. The +proof, now so clear, that Louis' accusations had been rejected, suddenly +converted the rest to Lecour's side and an enthusiasm similar to that of +his own company broke out in their ranks too, resulting in a +continuation of the cry, "Vive de Lincy!" This extraordinary scene +excited the other troops. The whole line broke out again and again into +the repeated cry of, "Vive de Lincy!" while Germain rode rapidly along. +The crowd of spectators took it up, and added tremendous shouts of +approbation. Nor did the cry end with the parade. He heard it +everywhere; at mess-table it was the greeting as he entered, the +response to numerous toasts to his health, and the last sound he heard +as he sank to sleep at night.</p> + +<p>The feelings of de Léry were very different. The shout was to him his +social doom. He stood his ground and executed his duty without an +external sign, but his heart withered when his comrades there and then +commenced to shun him and drive him into Coventry. No protestations, no +statements that he could make, would, he knew, have been of any avail; +so he spared himself the trouble. Withdrawing entirely into a proud +reserve, he was soon banished from the regiment and from society, and +driven to find a refuge over the ocean in Canada, where, hidden from the +eyes of European criticism, he entered upon a new career.</p> + +<p>The Marquis de Lotbinière heard of the loss of the documents first by a +letter from de Villerai. On the same day he received the following from +the Count de Vaudreuil—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="r n">"<span class="smcap">At Versailles</span>, the 13th February, 1788.</p> + +<p>"I should always be well disposed, sir, to oblige persons who, like +Monsieur de Léry, might have aroused my interest; but <i>it is +impossible for me to become the accuser of anybody whatsoever</i>. +<i>Such a maxim is absolutely opposed to all my principles</i> and to +the invariable law which I have made for myself and from which I +cannot depart. It is the place of the Prince de Poix to examine the +candidates who present themselves for admission to the Bodyguard; +that duty is entirely foreign to me. Be convinced of all the regret +I feel in being unable, in this case, to do what would be agreeable +to you, and accept fresh assurances of the sincere attachment with +which I have the honour to be, sir,</p> + +<p class="beg3">"Your very humble and obedient servant,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">The Count De Vaudreuil</span>."</p></div> + +<p class="n">A worse blow followed, in a brief newspaper account conveying word of +the total defeat of the accusations.</p> + +<p>Great movements, he heard, had been aroused among the highest circles of +Court, in Lecour's favour; the Prince de Poix had proved a broken reed, +while the Bodyguards of both companies had clamoured for their de Lincy. +The Marquis vented his rage upon de Villerai behind his back, but after +a few days concluded it advantageous to make no further references to +the son of the cantineer.</p> + +<p>Germain's first action was to rush to Versailles and clasp in his arms +the love of his life. She, her eyes brimming with the happiness, faith, +and trustfulness of a pure young girl, rejoiced in the vindication of +her insulted knight.</p> + +<p>News of another addition to his possessions arrived, while it brought a +grief. Events had been too much for the Chevalier de Bailleul. He died +in the latter part of the month of February, and a letter from the +intendant of his estates informed Germain both of the sad event and at +the same time that the veteran had bequeathed him Eaux Tranquilles and +his fortune. The intendant, a local attorney named Populus, quoted the +clauses of the will, and asked instructions from his new master.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">A HARD SEASON</p> + + +<p>The first few days by Germain and Cyrène, after the death of de +Bailleul, were spent in genuine sorrow. Their thoughts were recalled to +those dear and delicious weeks at Fontainebleau, and they decided that +Germain should revisit Eaux Tranquilles and prepare it for their bridal. +Wishing to do so undisturbed by business he sent no word to his +intendant, but set out on the journey mounted on a good horse, along the +road by Bicêtre and Corbeil. It was the beginning of March, the end of a +winter so severe as to have surpassed the memory of living men. The +Seine had been frozen over from Havre to Paris for the first time since +1709; and, added to the horrors of famine arising from destruction of +the last summer's harvest by hail, the icy fields and gleaming river now +had a terrible aspect to the shivering poor; and even to him, Canadian +though he was, accustomed to think of winter as a time of merriment, for +he thought of the misery of the people.</p> + +<p>Towards evening he was forced by a hail storm to stop at the inn of +Grelot, a hamlet which adjoined the park of Eaux Tranquilles.</p> + +<p>In the morning he was roused by voices in the village street, and saw by +the sunlight pouring in at the window that the day was well up and the +storm over. The number of voices, though not many, seemed to him +unusual for such a somnolent place at Grelot, so that he rose, took up +his clothing, which had been dried over night by the host and thrust in +at the door at daybreak, partly dressed himself, sat down at the window +and looked out from behind the shutters.</p> + +<p>On the opposite side of the road he saw, sitting under a spreading oak +on a bench, the persons who were talking. The long boughs of the tree +were gnarled and leafless, but they overspread most of the little +three-cornered space which constituted the village green, and the sun +upon their interlacing surfaces cheerfully suggested the coming of +spring. Three famished peasants sat on the bench. The bones protruded on +their hollow faces, and their eyes were sunk deep in their sockets. They +were all over fifty; one was much older, and leaned feebly on a cudgel. +Their dress was mean and patched; their battered sabots stuffed with +straw and wool. One was whittling with a curved knife. He was a +sabot-maker.</p> + +<p>"It is not possible to live this way," he protested. "People will not +buy sabots nor bucket-yokes."</p> + +<p>"They need food before sabots," remarked the old man.</p> + +<p>"But I too must have food. Are we never to have good bread again? Three +years ago we had good bread."</p> + +<p>"This barley, half eaten away, produces more bran than flour," said the +old man, trembling with weakness. "To make bread of it, my woman is +obliged to work it over several times, and each time there seems so +little left that she weeps. We must soon die."</p> + +<p>"Yet there is always a fight for it at the wickets, when it is +distributed," said the third man.</p> + +<p>"And one must fight to keep his share. I go to the wickets with my big +knife out," the sabot-maker added fiercely.</p> + +<p>"And when one eats it, it gives him inflammation and pains," continued +the old man. "I have seen many years of famine, but never so little +bread, and that so hard and stinking."</p> + +<p>"As for me I have found a secret," gravely said the third man, whose +hollow countenance displayed an unnatural pallor. "Over in the +Seigneur's park, above the little spring of water, there is a ledge of +rock. Below that ledge there lies plenty of white clay. That clay is +good to eat. You are hungry no more when you have taken breakfast of +that."</p> + +<p>"My God! is our parish reduced to eating earth?" exclaimed the oldest of +the men. "What is to become of France? Heaven is against us."</p> + +<p>"I came here before my children woke, because it pierces my heart to +listen to their crying," the sabot-maker said dejectedly.</p> + +<p>"Yet everybody knows there is so much good grain in the barns of the new +Seigneur," the earth-eater said in a whining voice.</p> + +<p>"While Monsieur the Chevalier lived none starved, at least," the old man +said, his head bowed in despair upon the top of his staff. "What is to +become of us now?"</p> + +<p>"It is the fault of the bad people about our King," remarked the +earth-eater.</p> + +<p>Every syllable sank into Germain's heart, for <i>he</i> was the new Seigneur.</p> + +<p>A loud clattering sound as of some person running rapidly up the street +arrested the conversation of the trio. A countryman, a clumsy, frowsy +fellow, in a terrible fright, stopped under Germain's window out of +breath and turned at bay on his pursuer. The pursuer, likewise out of +breath, was also clumsy, but rather from stoutness than stupidity; he +was a short man of about forty, and his dress was that of one in the +lower ranks of the law. Everybody in the place ran out of doors to see +what the race was about.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Pioche—I—only—want—your—vote," the Attorney panted, +closing up with his victim.</p> + +<p>"Let me go, Master Populus," the peasant cried, clasping his hands and +falling on his knees. "Faith of God! I can swear that I have none of +that. I never saw one, I assure you, Monsieur. Search my person and see +if you find one of those things. No, Monsieur Populus, I am only a poor +little bit of a cottager, I have never broken the laws in my life. I +assure you I have no such thing on me. I never saw one, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"My good Pioche—<i>Monsieur</i> Pioche, citizen of the bailiwick of +Grelot—do not go on your knees to one whose only aim is to be the +servant of our citizens."</p> + +<p>A suspicious, defensive look was the only expression on the rustic's +face as he rose and peered furtively round to calculate his chances of +escape. A little crowd was meanwhile closing up.</p> + +<p>"Know, sir," continued Populus, "that the King, in the plentitude of his +goodness, has learned of the misery of his people and desires to hear +their grievances and set them right. He has ordained that the grievances +of Grelot be set forth for him in due form, and I undertake, sir, to act +in this operation as the humble mouthpiece of my native place. More +particularly his Majesty decrees that the august people do declare its +will upon the formation of a constitution and other grave matters, by +appointing representatives of the Third Estate to the Assembly of the +Estates-General."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand anything about all that."</p> + +<p>"My dear Monsieur Pioche, that does not matter in the slightest. It is +the best of reasons why you should appoint me your representative."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand," the rustic persisted stolidly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu!</i> Monsieur Pioche," Master Populus continued, "it is very +simple; promise me your vote. See what I can do for you. You pay the +Seigneur twenty-six livres annual feudal rent of your holding."</p> + +<p>"No, twenty-seven."</p> + +<p>"Well, say twenty-seven. Now I am the intendant of this new young fool +of a Seigneur, who is away all the time at Versailles. I have the sole +control. Let us strike a bargain. Give me your vote and I will quietly +let you off ten livres of rental. If I wish, I can find some reason for +reporting you at seventeen."</p> + +<p>Pioche's eyes assumed an uncertain light of cunning and greed.</p> + +<p>"Don't do it, Pioche," cried a one-eyed cobbler. "Notary Mule offers to +abolish all these Seigneur's rights if we elect <i>him</i> to the +States-General."</p> + +<p>"Shut up, you tan-smelling bow-legs!" the enraged Populus retorted at a +shout. "Who is this Mule, that he should represent the majesty of the +bailiwick of Grelot? A cur whose very name is enough to relegate him to +limbo; whose deeds are atrocities in ink, whose——"</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless he is going to lift our dues. Master Mule is the people's +man," the cobbler returned valiantly.</p> + +<p>"What, Mule!" cried Populus with still greater scorn. "Where has he the +power? Am I not the intendant? Is it not I who alone control the dues in +my own person? Yes, gentlemen, who will deny that I hold, so to speak, +the keys of heaven and earth in Grelot, and whom I bind shall be bound +and whom I loose shall be loosed, notwithstanding the impotent cajolery +of all the long-eared Mules in the kingdom?"</p> + +<p>The whole population of the village were by this time gaping around him.</p> + +<p>"What, you clapper-jawed thief," a voice thundered from behind, "you +venture to malign my name—the honourable appellation of a respectable +family! Know, sir, that I spit upon you, I strike you, I say bah to your +face!"</p> + +<p>Maître Mule was a little round-faced man, forced by his physical +inferiority to Populus to take out his valour by word of mouth.</p> + +<p>The two went at it with recriminations, from which Germain learnt much +of his own affairs. The noise of the pair shouting and threatening to +fight together, and the riotous cries of the crowd, "No dues!" "Notary, +give us bread!" grew at length so great that the innkeeper rushed out +exclaiming, "Peace, Messieurs, peace. I have a gentleman from Paris +sleeping upstairs. See, there is the baker's shop just open."</p> + +<p>The word "baker" operated better than magic. The rioters rushed over to +the wicket, which was fixed in the door of the shop, and fought and +snarled with each other for their slender purchases of the bread of +famine.</p> + +<p>Such were the daily incidents which were leading men on to revolution.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">BACK AT EAUX TRANQUILLES</p> + +<p>Wrapping his cloak closely round him and lowering his hat to prevent +recognition he mounted his horse in the courtyard of the inn and rode +on.</p> + +<p>He might have taken a path directly through his own park to the château, +but he preferred the highway to Fontainebleau, and, passing the gates of +Eaux Tranquilles, entered the great forest.</p> + +<p>With what emotions did not the sight of that neighbourhood thrill him. +He slacked rein to a walk, rode thoughtfully through the bare but +smiling woods and picturesque openings, and stopped with deep feeling at +the spring where he first met the generous benefactor of his life. It +was now sparkling like crystal—its basin fringed with ice. Tears rose +in his eyes and fell freely as he brought his steed into the same +position as when the Chevalier had first addressed him, and he eagerly +strained his sorrowful imagination to discern again the kindly features +of the old man's face and look into his eyes once more.</p> + +<p>"I was unworthy of you, my benefactor," he exclaimed. "Oh, may some path +out of my misdoings be yet found which will satisfy your stainless +standard!" Turning back he retraced his route and entered Eaux +Tranquilles.</p> + +<p class="img"><img src="images/i004.png" alt="image: MARIE ANTOINETTE D'AUTRICHE" /><br /> +MARIE ANTOINETTE D'AUTRICHE<br /> +Reine de France<br /> +1755-1793</p> + +<p>The gardens were deserted. He tied his horse to a seat and walked about. +Amidst his emotions and reminiscences the beauty of the place, even in +its wintry garb, gradually introduced into his thoughts a subdued, +scarcely conscious strain of delight in its ownership. He came at last +to the château, stood before it, and looked contemplatively along its +façade. It was almost too grand to seem by any possibility his, yet in +very truth he was lord of Eaux Tranquilles and all its manors.</p> + +<p>Sounds of unseemly revelry within fell upon his ear. He listened a +moment, and then stepping up to the great door struck the knocker. The +butler himself opened. He was half drunk, and as he was a man who had +been engaged from Paris since Germain's visit he did not know the +latter.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, disturbing gentlemen's diversions?" he exclaimed +insolently. "Who told you to come to this estate?"</p> + +<p>"Its master."</p> + +<p>"You lie. Do you want me to set the dogs on you?"</p> + +<p>"You will neither set the dogs on me nor tell me I lie," Germain said +quietly, and stepped past him into the hall.</p> + +<p>"What do you say?" the butler shouted, foaming at the mouth and trying +to seize Germain, who foiled him by drawing his sword. "Jacques! Jovite! +Constant! 'Lexandre! here; put a <i>canaille</i> pig out who defies me!"</p> + +<p>The door of an adjoining chamber opened, showing a table covered with +glasses and bottles of choice wines, and three or four footmen in +disordered liveries rushed out with some of the bottles and glasses in +their hands. At the sight of Germain's face one after another stood +stock still and fell upon his knees.</p> + +<p>The butler swore savagely. He saw what had happened.</p> + +<p>"Who is this man?" asked Germain severely of the footmen.</p> + +<p>"Cliquet, the butler, Monsieur," stammered Constant, the oldest. "He was +not here when your lordship was."</p> + +<p>"Take him out of the gates," replied the new master, "and send for my +intendant."</p> + +<p>Not long after Master Populus entered his presence, bowing and scraping, +with a dozen smiles at once on his face.</p> + +<p>"So you are the intendant?" said Germain.</p> + +<p>"I have the honour, Monsieur le Chevalier—the greatest honour in seven +parishes, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Be good enough to pardon me—you have no honour at all, sir.'</p> + +<p>"How? what?" gasped Populus.</p> + +<p>"None whatever. You are a rascal; but as long as I can make you behave +yourself you shall remain intendant. You misrepresent my rent-rolls."</p> + +<p>"Not at all——"</p> + +<p>"Listen to me. You bargain away my dues with my <i>censitaires</i>."</p> + +<p>"Nev——"</p> + +<p>"You permit my butlers to drink out of my wine cellars. I warrant you +have the pick of them at your own table."</p> + +<p>The Attorney did not know whether he was standing on his head or his +heels, for the hit was correct.</p> + +<p>"Finally," Germain went on deliberately, "you 'hold the keys of heaven +and earth in Grelot,' and snap your fingers at 'this new young fool of a +Seigneur who is away all the time at Versailles.'"</p> + +<p>Master Populus seemed powerless to move or speak as he stood fiery-faced +in the middle of the floor, looking despairingly at Germain, who was +seated, very coolly glancing him over.</p> + +<p>"Well, Master Populus, what do you think?" he proceeded, smiling, after, +pausing a moment. "Do you wish to continue the holding of the keys of +heaven and earth? If so you must do it on <i>my</i> terms. And <i>my</i> terms are +these—no more lying, no more false accounts, no more stealing from my +poor, no more liberties taken with the property and people in your +charge. Do you agree?"</p> + +<p>The boldness of the opponent of Master Mule had evaporated. Two meek and +scarcely whispered words alone left his lips—</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Another thing. Are you willing to choose my intendancy at a fair profit +rather than election to the States-General and glory?"</p> + +<p>A white wave passed over Populus' countenance. At length, however, he +again whispered—</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Monsieur Intendant, we can proceed to business. How much +grain have I in the granaries? I have the books here."</p> + +<p>"About four thousand bushels of wheat."</p> + +<p>"In the book are entered two thousand."</p> + +<p>"That is my mistake, sir."</p> + +<p>"And of barley how much?"</p> + +<p>"Seven thousand."</p> + +<p>"You entered it four here. Another mistake, no doubt. See that there are +no such mistakes in future. My instructions to you then, Monsieur +Intendant, are to take the whole of this wheat and distribute it among +our starving people under the instructions of the parish priests. +Superintend this at once."</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLIV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">SELF-DEFENCE</p> + + +<p>Dominique made an incomparable butler. It boots not to tell how, under +his military sway, the servants seemed almost to acquire the new +Prussian drill; the stores and cellars were listed with the system of a +commissariat, dust disappeared like magic from gildings and parquetry, +and order and state surrounded "the young Chevalier" in all his +movements.</p> + +<p>But above all the new <i>maître d'hôtel</i> energetically carried out the +immediate wish of his master, and soon everything was ready for an event +to which Germain was looking forward with supreme delight—the coming of +Cyrène to see her future home. The day arrived. The Canoness accompanied +her. The ecstasy of the lovers as they clasped each other in the place +of their first meeting may be left unwritten. Very often was the +Canoness constrained to absorb herself in her little illuminated +prayer-book.</p> + +<p>Eight or nine days after the event, the time arrived when it was +customary at Eaux Tranquilles for the tenants to pay their feudal dues, +and Germain was alone in the office of the château, looking over the +ancient titles of de Bailleul's inheritances, preparatory to receiving +the "faith and homage" of his subjects.</p> + +<p>"I must go no farther," he was saying to himself. "She must not marry me +without knowing everything. The time has come for confession, and I must +spare myself in nothing. What will she think of me when she knows how +false I have been?"</p> + +<p>At that point Dominique stepped in gravely and shut the door.</p> + +<p>"They are at some mischief in Grelot," he said.</p> + +<p>"Against me?"</p> + +<p>"It looks that way."</p> + +<p>"How? I saw nothing of it yesterday."</p> + +<p>The day before being Sunday, Germain had gone over alone in his coach to +attend High Mass in the parish church. The people standing about the +front doors greeted him respectfully, and he passed up the aisle and +took his seat in his raised and curtained pew. The priest, as was +customary, had named him in the prayers as patron of the church, he was +the first to be passed the blessed bread, and the congregation even +received with subdued approbation a warm reference in the sermon to his +distribution of wheat to the poor. His leaving was treated in as +respectful a manner. How then, one day later, could the Grelotins be at +mischief against him?</p> + +<p>"It was that Mule and that trash of a Cliquet. They were haranguing the +people after Mass—something about a thing Mule calls the Third Estate. +Nobody knows what it is—but everybody thinks it belongs to himself and +that the aristocrats want to take it from him. So everybody got into a +rage against the aristocrats (save your honour), and Mule brought them +over to the tavern hall, ordered everybody's fill of brandy, and read +out something from the King. He told them the King was on their side, +and for all to tell out their complaints against the Seigneur. So +everybody began to think if he had complaints, and Master Mule wrote +them into a copybook. When Mule read it out, the people groaned and +cried that they never knew they had had so many miseries. Cliquet +shouted that you were the cause of all these miseries; that you had +grain while the peasants were starving, and that they ought to drive you +out of the country and then would all be well."</p> + +<p>They were startled by a musket-shot so near the house that Dominique +hastened to the window to look. Germain sprang up too. The office faced +at the rear, close to the old château and lake.</p> + +<p>A rough fellow with a gun was coolly standing near the great dovecot and +shooting at the pigeons. Dominique threw open the window and shouted. +The answer was a gesture of derision.</p> + +<p>Germain rang furiously for the lackeys. For answer Jovite and 'Lexandre +ran up, pale, and out of their wits, reporting that "the brigands" were +invading the front of the house.</p> + +<p>"Go and find what is the matter, Dominique," Lecour said, and sprang up +to seek for Cyrène, but checking himself, crossed the corridor and went +to a front window.</p> + +<p>He saw a multitude trooping down the gardens from the gates and walls, +over which in the distance he could descry them swarming, and forming a +sort of semicircle around the entrance door. The vanguard were led by a +drum and a violin. The expressions on the faces of the men were wild and +haggard, most wore greasy bonnets of wool, some huge wooden shoes, some +hobnailed ones, and over their shoulders or in their hands protruded +their weapons—pitchforks, scythes, flails, knives, clubs, and rusty +guns. All must have been several thousand, collected from every hamlet +in his territory. They seemed like a legion of some spectre army of +Hunger and Ignorance. In the commander Germain recognised his +discharged butler.</p> + +<p>The Canoness he descried escaping, unseen by them, with the aid of a +gardener, across the pond into the park. He withdrew from the window and +fled quickly towards the chamber of Cyrène. She likewise was seeking +him, and in a passage they rushed into each other's arms.</p> + +<p>"Where is the Canoness?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"She is gone, she was warned," he said. "You know there is danger, +love?"</p> + +<p>"I see it," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Come," he urged her, "the office is strong, we may have to defend +ourselves."</p> + +<p>Thither, therefore, they returned and anxiously awaited Dominique, each +fearful of the safety of the other. For the moment the protection of the +house had to be trusted wholly to the Auvergnat.</p> + +<p>Dominique was absent about fifteen minutes, during which Germain could +hear the servants barring the doors, and voices surrounding the house in +all directions. The valet returned and related his observations. After +making the doors fast and collecting the female servants in the hall, he +had carefully looked out of the wicket of the grand entrance, and seeing +no one approaching, opened, and going out to the head of the steps, +inquired of the mob their errand. He was met by a hurly-burly of cries.</p> + +<p>"Long live Liberty! Long live the King! Death to the aristocrats! Long +live the nation!"</p> + +<p>"What do you seek of Monsieur le Chevalier?"</p> + +<p>"His head!" cried Cliquet.</p> + +<p>"Bread, bread!" shouted the sabot-maker.</p> + +<p>But two others came forward and more rightly interpreted the chief and +quaint demand of the ignorant peasants. They demanded all his +parchments and title-deeds to burn; "for," said they sententiously, "we +shall then be freed of rents and dues, which are now abolished by the +King." Some of the bolder rioters had even started a fire to burn the +documents.</p> + +<p>"And if he does not give them up?"</p> + +<p>"We must cut off his head and burn down his château. We are sorry, but +it is the King's order."</p> + +<p>Dominique, in reporting, made no suggestions; instead, he waited for +instructions. Lecour thought a moment. He came to the conclusion to try +severity. "Tell them," said he, "that unless they are quiet I will make +parchments of their skins."</p> + +<p>Cyrène caught his arm, but the answer had already gone.</p> + +<p>Dominique dropped the <i>rôle</i> of butler for his old ones of soldier. He +saluted, and marched down to deliver the message. A hush was heard for a +few moments, then the entrance door slammed, and an instant after all +the windows in the mansion seemed to shatter simultaneously before a +tremendous volley of musketry and stones. Every wall and casement shook +with the shouts and racketing sounds of a fierce and general attack.</p> + +<p>Germain and Cyrène shuddered. The noise awoke them to the seriousness of +the situation. It brought them face to face with that terrible storm +whose thunderclouds were now thickly darkening over France—the +death-dealing typhoon of the Revolution. A proud thought came into his +head. "My time is come. I shall die defending her."</p> + +<p>"Do you and all the servants save yourselves," he said to Dominique. And +he took two pistols from the drawer and laid them on the table, looking +into Cyrène's eyes.</p> + +<p>"No, my master," Dominique returned, "if you die, I will die with you. +I know my duty. But let us at least defend ourselves well."</p> + +<p>"See that the others escape, and especially the women. It is not right +for them, who are from the country here, to be embroiled with their +relatives. Tell them on no account to open the outer doors, or they run +the risk of massacre, but to make terms through their friends in the +mob."</p> + +<p>It was only a question of minutes when the besiegers should succeed in +breaking a door or scaling the walls to the windows and making their +entrance. From the office windows they could see a score of those in the +rear running forward across the grounds with a ladder which they had +secured in the stables. Passing again to the front of the house, Lecour +saw the mob angrily tearing up garden benches and summerhouses for the +same purpose. An active crowd besides, under the urging of Cliquet, was +battering the main door with a beam. The fire, lit for his parchments +was blazing merrily, and a man with a shock of matted hair, by a sudden +impulse snatched a long brand and raised the cry of "Burn him up!" +Others sprang forward to do the same, and fought for the blazing pieces, +but Cliquet bounded down the steps and knocked the matted-hair man down.</p> + +<p>"Curse you!" he shouted. "You will spoil the whole business. You don't +know how many good things are in there for us."</p> + +<p>Dominique returned from the servants. "They are well arranged for," said +he.</p> + +<p>Cyrène tremblingly caught Germain's arm, excited with a new idea. "To +the old château! not a moment to lose!" she cried, and seizing Lecour by +the arm hurried him into the passage which communicated between the new +mansion on land and the ancient one in the lake, while Dominique +followed. Half-way across was a decayed wooden door, which once had +done duty as a gate behind the portcullis. They shut and bolted this +with all speed, and then turned to look round them. The crash of the +main door falling and the shout of the mob which followed, penetrated to +their retreat.</p> + +<p>"We have plenty of powder and pistols," Dominique exclaimed; "there is +the armoury just at our backs."</p> + +<p>The armoury, in truth, was close at hand and in it an ample selection of +old-fashioned weapons.</p> + +<p>"Let us place this to command the passage," Germain said, touching a +bronze cannon, after they had taken some pistols and powder.</p> + +<p>"Very good, my General," Dominique assented excitedly, and pushing the +rusty trunnion they got it into position. It was an ornate affair, which +had been for centuries discharged by the de Bailleuls on the birthdays +of the family. Cyrène had the good judgment to remain in the armoury.</p> + +<p>It was several hours before they were discovered. The reason, as they +concluded by listening at the door in the passage, was the exploring of +the wine-cellars by the besiegers, under the guidance of Cliquet. Blows, +shouts, and crashes indicated numerous acts of destruction. Inevitably, +however, they were at last found out by Cliquet himself, who could not +forego the delights of revenge. He came to the wooden door.</p> + +<p>"Baptism, dame, I have you now, you cursed young white-gill!" cried he. +"Break it in, my boys, smash, hack. We'll roast <i>him</i> in place of his +parchments—the man who will make parchments of our skins."</p> + +<p>Lecour ran back to take a moment's glance at Cyrène. She was kneeling at +prayer. He withdrew, grasped his pistols with renewed determination, and +stood at his post.</p> + +<p>Lecour and Dominique were quite ready—the latter with his fuse, the +former with a pistol in each outstretched hand and the need of saving +Cyrène in his fast-beating heart. They were disciplined soldiers, the +mob was not. No sooner had the door fallen in and the crowd of attackers +rushed into the passage, than the roar of the cannon was heard, its +flame was seen, a cloud of sulphurous smoke thickly filled the passage, +and a mass of mutilated and shrieking creatures covered the floor. A +terrible sorrow for his suffering tenants surged over Germain. A +dreadful silence fell upon the rest of the house, followed by mingled +sounds of confusion in the distance, and soon the main multitude itself +appeared, pressing forward towards the passage.</p> + +<p>Lecour, with his pistols undischarged, again stood immovably covering +Dominique, as he deliberately and rapidly reloaded, and once more while +the crowd still pressed on a torrent of shrapnel poured into them, +sickening all finally of the attempt.</p> + +<p>The two army men thus remained temporary masters of the situation, but +they knew that the advantage could not serve them long.</p> + +<p>As for Cyrène she was weak with the shock, but insisted on making no +complaints. He watched her anxiously and tenderly until she seemed +somewhat recovered, but it was evident by her trembling limbs that a +grave illness was but briefly postponed. The groans which came from the +passage caused her to make several attempts to go to the sufferers, and +she had to be gently restrained and removed by them to another part of +the castle.</p> + +<p>As dusk fell the two defenders moved cautiously forward among the +horrors of the dead and dying, and once more rudely fastened up the +door. It became clear that they must attempt an escape, for with the +dark came fresh dangers.</p> + +<p>Dominique remained on guard, while Lecour, taking a candle, went +through the old castle, making a rapid survey. The night was clear and +cold, the moon had not yet risen, and the darkness was sufficient to +favour them. He selected a window for the attempt. Then, reckless of +treasures, he cut down some of the old tapestries which lined the +chambers, and slit off enough to twist into a rope. This would bring +them to the level of the water, now thinly covered with ice.</p> + +<p>"But will the ice bear us?"</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur, I started across this morning and it broke."</p> + +<p>"Of what nature is it?"</p> + +<p>"Soft, and bends, and your foot sinks through it."</p> + +<p>"Very well, we can cross it."</p> + +<p>He hurried back to one of the chambers where there were some of the de +Bailleul portraits hanging, pulled them down with his own hands, and +tore the frames of several apart. Their sides he attached as cross-bars +to others, by means of strings ravelled from the canvas of the +tapestries. The result was a makeshift for snowshoes. With these they +escaped across the ice to the park, unnoticed by their enemies, who, by +the lights in every part of the mansion, they could see were active and +uproarious.</p> + +<p>When at last, arriving at the gate of a château miles onward toward +Paris they looked back they saw an immense blaze in the distance, and +the heavens aglare from east to west with the conflagration. But the +saving of Cyrène made up in Germain's heart for the loss of his mansion, +and he felt as if by that as he had taken a step towards redemption.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLV</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE NECESSITIES OF CONDITION</p> + + +<p>All through the long illness of Cyrène, which followed the revolt at +Eaux Tranquilles, and especially after her first grief for the misguided +men who had fallen in the corridor, her heart dwelt with great intensity +on the destruction of her hope of a home. She recurred to it again and +again in her conversations with him, until he ventured to mention to her +the offer once made to him by Liancourt of the position of Commandant of +the cadet school on his estates.</p> + +<p>"Could you retire thither," said he, looking into her eyes with emotion, +"away for ever from your friends, away from your rank, from the Court, +and all that is so brilliant and belongs to you, to live your life along +with a man of humble birth wholly unworthy of you? You speak of a quiet +hearth and of abandonment of the world, but could you make a sacrifice +so great as this?"</p> + +<p>"Germain, love, do you not know me yet?" she answered, returning him a +look of affection which profoundly troubled him. He knelt and kissed her +hand in silence. "Is not love life itself?" she said, rising with +difficulty from her arm-chair. "Let us go without delay and obtain +permission," and, taking his hand, led him with steps slow and pitiably +uncertain into the presence of the Maréchale.</p> + +<p>Madame was seated alone, mumbling to the count of her rosary, but on +their appearance dropped it in her lap and resumed her usual bearing of +dignity.</p> + +<p>"Grand-aunt," began the Baroness, "we have a great boon to ask of you."</p> + +<p>"What is it, Baroness?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Grand-aunt," Cyrène repeated falteringly, "have you ever known what it +is to love?"</p> + +<p>The question astonished Madame l'Etiquette. For a moment it seemed as if +a slight mounting of the blood to her wrinkled cheeks was visible. In +the next her features resumed their stiffness, and she answered, "Tush! +that is the business of citizenesses."</p> + +<p>"You too have had your dream; I have heard of it," Cyrène persisted. +"Women are women, whatever their sphere."</p> + +<p>"Say illusion, perhaps, not dream; but the subject must cease. What do +you want of me after this very <i>malàpropos</i> preface?"</p> + +<p>"I ask you to consent to our immediate marriage," Cyrène said with +desperate directness, and tremblingly taking the chair which Germain +proffered, sat down with white face, watching Madame de Noailles +anxiously.</p> + +<p>The latter did not reply.</p> + +<p>"Grand-aunt," pled the young woman, "you have felt like us in your day, +the longing for a home, a sweet refuge from the wretchedness of life. +You had a lover to make you feel how sweet it might have been."</p> + +<p>"Get these silly ideas out of your head," responded Madame l'Etiquette, +ignoring Lecour, but speaking in a not unkindly manner. "Your rank +demands an <i>establishment</i>, not a home. Monsieur understands that his +position and yours are very different, and that two things at least are +necessary in order to make your marriage possible—his standing as a +Bodyguard, and a complete establishment. The riotous condition of his +province makes the latter very dubious. You understand this, Monsieur de +Lincy?"</p> + +<p>"It must be admitted, Madame la Maréchale," Lecour said sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"You have some sense, I observe."</p> + +<p>"But I can live without an establishment. A position is open to Germain +in the provinces as Commandant of a school," Cyrène exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Madame uttered an exclamation so energetic, and she rose so fiercely +from her chair that Cyrène stopped in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Saints of heaven!" went on the Maréchale, "is the family on the brink +of a catastrophe? Can the Noailles, the Court, and the Crown afford to +allow a Montmorency to annihilate herself? How dare you, forgetful of +your relatives, your position, your descent from a hundred kings, +advance such a proposal to the Chief Lady of Honour. I am something, +Madame, and I intend to be considered, and to see that your family shall +be considered. A pretty idea this, of rustic innocence and rural +retirement, of straw bonnets and shepherding, of the new school to which +you belong and who are the enemies of everything permanent. You are +destroying customs to make way for theories, manners for boon +comradeship, chivalry for finance, elegance for vulgarity, religion for +atheism, and character for sentiment. You are to blame for all the +present disorders, and such as you have brought about the burning of +your own château. No, Madame, I will not permit the marriage. How dare +you propose it to her, sir?"</p> + +<p>Lecour said nothing. He could not.</p> + +<p>Cyrène continued bravely.</p> + +<p>"The matter is of the deepest concern—of infinite importance to us."</p> + +<p>"I have decided it. I am the guardian of your future, and I intend to +remain so."</p> + +<p>"You are the lady head of the family and guardian of my future under the +will of my father, but let me say without disrespect that I am a widow, +and legally control my own right to dispose of my hand."</p> + +<p>"You think you could disobey me? I could easily see to that. The King +would refuse to sign the contract of marriage, and there my power would +only begin."</p> + +<p>"You cannot prevent us from at least marrying. The humblest French +peasants have a right to that without any royal signature."</p> + +<p>"Yes I can, and I will show you the power of the old school!" cried the +dame, straightening herself with an inconceivable triumph and shaking +out the folds of her brocade. "Monsieur de Lincy here knows well that I +am right in preventing you from sacrificing your position. I call upon +<i>his honour as a noble</i> not to allow this disgrace to fall upon you. I +call upon it to sustain the head of your house. I call upon it to +reverence the wish of the dead and the will of the King. You admit me +right and just, Monsieur de Lincy? I call upon your honour as a noble. +Answer me."</p> + +<p>"There is but one way of replying," he returned slowly; and Cyrène in +her very anguish showed her pride in his response to the fatal appeal to +his honour.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," Madame cried, partaking in that pride and changing her +manner to one of much kindliness, "you have done well and are good +children. Believe that my strictness shall endure no longer than is +necessary. It is true that in the name of order I forbid your marriage, +but I consent to your remaining affianced until these troubles of our +country pass away or Monsieur obtains some establishment, no matter how +small, if sufficient, and even though that should take as long as your +lives may last. Kneel and receive an old woman's blessing."</p> + +<p>With what disappointed and mingled feelings they knelt before her and +bowed to the conquest of nature by the Old <i>Régime</i>.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLVI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE PATRIOTS</p> + + +<p>At midnight the full moon, silver-gilt, touched the house-fronts of the +Street of the Hanged Man. They lit the figure and slouched hat of Jude, +who, carrying a package, slunk up to the door of the Gougeon shop and +was admitted. The Big Bench were in session. The light of the tallow-dip +seemed to concentrate itself on the wicked smile of the Admiral as he +watched Jude opening the packages.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who sent this, gentlemen?" the spy cried, enjoying the +importance of being the bearer of some surprise.</p> + +<p>"We are not gentlemen, and we do not know," retorted Hache.</p> + +<p>"It was a high personage, rowers—no less a personage than a prince—a +royal prince."</p> + +<p>"What have <i>we</i> to do with princes?"</p> + +<p>"With the Duke of Orleans, much; rival to the throne, he is the friend +of the people."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, the friend of the people, and he wants us for something. That +is a good contract," the Admiral interrupted. "Whose windpipe does he +want to cut, and what does he promise to pay for it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing so risky; only some shouting, and as for the pay, here, +Admiral, is the nose of the dog," and he handed him a full bag of coin.</p> + +<p>The Admiral tore it open, and exhibited the metal to his greedy-eyed +subordinates. Hache grabbed at a couple of the coins, and joyfully +flipped them up to the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Now what does our friend the Duke of Orleans want? Our <i>friend</i> the +Duke of Orleans, <i>gentlemen</i>," the Admiral added, smiling ironically.</p> + +<p>"To wear these badges and shout for him," replied Jude, displaying the +contents of his parcel, a couple of dozen red woollen tuques.</p> + +<p>"No objection," the Admiral answered; "no objection in the world, but +what is the object?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur Admiral——"</p> + +<p>"Shut up with your 'Monsieurs', spy," called Hache. "Do you want us +hunted for aristocrats?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Citizen Admiral then, you know how things have been going since +last spring. In May there was the holding of States-General; in June the +National Assembly confront the nobles and swear never to disperse; in +July the Court menaces to suppress the Parisians by the army; on the +eleventh the people slaughtered by the Dragoons; on the fourteenth——"</p> + +<p>"The Bastille taken—I was there."</p> + +<p>Exultation lit the ring of faces.</p> + +<p>"Ragmen, we have had good times since the 14th of July," said the +Admiral. "It is now becoming our turn. I always told you it was coming, +but I am going to give you better still. You are going to learn to love +the sight of red blood better than red wine."</p> + +<p>"The aristocrats," Jude continued, "have been skipping over the +frontiers; the people starving and rising to their rights; we hung +Councillor Foulon to the lantern——"</p> + +<p>"And put grass in his mouth, the old animal!" exclaimed Wife Gougeon +with vicious hate.</p> + +<p>"The King——" proceeded Jude.</p> + +<p>"The Big Hog," shouted a Councillor savagely.</p> + +<p>"The Big Hog, then, has had his bristles singed with all this: the +people despise him. Orleans is the people's favourite. What if the +Galley-on-Land should put Orleans on the throne?"</p> + +<p>"Good!" cried the Admiral.</p> + +<p>The Big Bench broke into excited comment.</p> + +<p>"Citizen Jude is admirable." Their leader went on, "Nothing could be +more acceptable than the money of a friend to the people. I tell you, +ragmen, our time has come. There is nothing we cannot try."</p> + +<p>"Let us garrott every gendarme."</p> + +<p>"They keep well out of our way now, at least when single," another +boasted.</p> + +<p>"We don't loot enough houses," a third grumbled. "What is the good of +belonging to the nation?"</p> + +<p>"It is the sacred right of the citizen to oppress the oppressor," chimed +Jude.</p> + +<p>"Ragmen, you don't know what I mean," vociferated the Admiral sharply. +"We are to be the great men—the Government. I have seen this ever since +our sack of Reveillon's paper-factory. Everything belongs to the +boldest. You will yet see our Big Bench legislators of Paris and me a +Minister of France."</p> + +<p>"Bravo; bravo the Admiral!"</p> + +<p>The man who last entered, the Versailles beggar, now came to the centre.</p> + +<p>"Listen, friends. You know that what I learn at Versailles is worth +something to the Galley-on-Land."</p> + +<p>"Invariably," said the Admiral.</p> + +<p>"The Big Sow, you know, she they call Madame Veto, has been cursedly +working to keep the Big Hog with the cursed hogs. The people are afraid +of more Dragoons, and are crying, 'The King to Paris!' Well, now, this +is the third of October. Yesterday afternoon the Bodyguard, as they call +them—all fat hogs, mark you—gave a dinner in the theatre to the +Flemish Dragoons. They were so glad to have Flemings to sabre Paris that +the Big Sow came in, and they all spat on the people's cockade, and put +on the White Hog colour, and also a black one, and vowed they were +cocksure of shutting us up. They brought in the Big Hog from his +hunting, and he is in the mess, too. At the end they all followed Madame +Veto home, shouting everything to vex us patriots. <i>I</i> am a <i>patriot</i>," +he added winking. "It is an outrage on the nation. We must go to +Versailles. We must bring the Big Hog into our bosoms, away from the Bad +Hogs. Do you see?"</p> + +<p>"I am in it," cried Hache.</p> + +<p>"An incomparable scheme," said the Admiral. "Brave Greencaps, don't you +see before you all the swag in the great château of Versailles? My God! +it is a pretty scheme—a scheme worthy of a Galley-on-Land."</p> + +<p>Even Gougeon seemed to be waked up, and fixed his greedy black eyes on +Motte.</p> + +<p>"Citizens," the Admiral continued, addressing Wife Gougeon. "This is +better begun by the women. This morning you will go the Fish-market and +stir the fishwomen up. You must learn the lingo of patriotess. Scream +hard that 'The nation is in danger!' 'Down with the enemies of the +republic!' Talk of 'the excellent citizen,' 'the true patriots,' 'the +good <i>sans-culottes</i>.' Be 'filled with sacred vigour' against 'the vile +aristocrats.' We 'work for liberty,' we 'bear the nation in our hearts,' +and 'fulfil a civic duty.' 'Against traitors, perpetual distrust is the +weapon of good citizens,' and 'away with the prejudices of feudalism!' +You can pick up carts-full of the lingo at the Palais Royal."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand that bosh," blurted Hache.</p> + +<p>"You learn it in two instants, Hache."</p> + +<p>"Wait till I tell you another thing, Admiral," Motte interposed. "There +are now twenty thousand ragmen from the provinces encamped on the hills +of Montmartre, fit for everything good. I have been through them, and +when a St. Marcellese holds his nose, you may fancy. Man never saw such +a choice crowd of breechesless. Get <i>them</i> started and go to the women +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow, then, let it be. The cries are to be 'Bread' and 'The King +to Paris,' the fishwomen to lead; the Big Bench sign to be the red wool +of '<i>our Friend Orleans</i>'; then sack the bakers; then the Hôtel de +Ville; then the château of Versailles; and death to every black or white +cockade."</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLVII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE DEFENCE OF THE BODYGUARD</p> + + +<p>Word passed about at the stately tea <i>à l'Anglaise</i> of the Princess de +Poix that there was danger at the Palace.</p> + +<p>"Germain, my knight," whispered Cyrène at the harpsichord, the bright +tears in her eyes, "I must not keep you now. Go to the Queen. It is for +times of peril that descendants of chivalry were born."</p> + +<p>Tenderly kissing her hand and saying adieu, Lecour drove to the Palace +and reported for service.</p> + +<p>The great Hall of the Guards in the centre of the Palace faces the top +of the Marble Staircase. To the left a landing leads to the Hall of the +King's Guards and thence, to the apartment of the King; to the right +another to the Hall of the Queen's Guards and the chambers of Marie +Antoinette.</p> + +<p>The Marble Staircase was approached by the Court of Marble, the smallest +and innermost courtyard of the vast château, looked out upon by the +royal apartments and paved with white marble. The exit from this was to +the Royal Court, whence through a grating to the Court of the Ministers, +and thence through the outer grating by the entrance gate to the Place +d'Armes.</p> + +<p>Though the season was yet early in October, it was as gloomy and +forbidding a night as one in the worst of November. The darkness and +chill were aggravated by a wearisome drizzle. They were further +aggravated by the discomforts of an anxious situation. About fifty +Bodyguards, lying and sitting under arms in the Hall, were trying to +spend the night, or rather the early hours before dawn, entertaining +each other. They were mainly of the command of the Count de Guiche, then +in its turn of service, but a number among them wore cross-belts of +other companies, for the need had been pressing, and all within reach +had been hastily summoned. The reason for anxiety was a great invasion +of women from Paris on the afternoon of the previous day headed by "a +conqueror of the Bastille." A deputation of twelve of these women were +led to the King, who satisfied and pleased them by his kindness, but the +rest of the crowd, brandishing knives through the railing, accused these +of treachery and tried to hang them. Outside the Palace on the Place +d'Armes the numbers were increased by horde after horde of men marching +from the slums of Paris, armed with pikes, muskets, and hatchets, and +full of drink. After dark many had filled the streets, knocking at the +houses demanding food and money, and terrifying the town. The sentinels, +the Bodyguards, and the Flemish regiment had with difficulty rescued the +women of the deputation, kept the gates and held the mob at bay. They +were jeered at and even fired on, whereat one or two of the Bodyguards +had fired back. The filthy furies, drunken and degraded to an extent of +degradation almost unknown to-day, were especially foul-mouthed +regarding the poor Queen. As for Wife Gougeon, she had stood out on the +very floor of the Assembly, flourished her dagger and screamed "Where +can I find the Austrian?"</p> + +<p>At length rain and night brought a certain cessation, and with them +hopes rose. The troops were withdrawn at eight. The main portion of the +Bodyguard were sent to Rambouillet in the vicinity, as they seemed to +excite antagonism among some companies of the National Guard or militia +of Versailles. About twelve in the evening, General Lafayette, of +American fame, came up at the head of the militia of Paris and took +command of the external defences of the château.</p> + +<p>The mob were still, however, permitted to camp out on the Place d'Armes.</p> + +<p>"What are they doing now?" a tired officer of the Bodyguards asked of +another, who had come in and was giving his dripping cloak to one of the +King's lackeys.</p> + +<p>"They are mostly asleep, on the Place. It is all over hillocks of rags."</p> + +<p>"In the rain?"</p> + +<p>"So it seems; it does not wet that sort."</p> + +<p>"They must be hungry."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. They have each his or her bottle of drink; besides, they +roasted and ate our comrade's horse that they shot by the light of their +bonfire. It was looking on at a cannibal's feast to see them dancing +round it, men and women."</p> + +<p>"More so had it been an ass's carcase, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Say a wolf's. If there is a breed of human wolves, I have had it proved +to me to-night. The difference between these and the kind in the +Menagerie is that it is we who are within the bars."</p> + +<p>"You need not offer the breed as a novelty; I saw plenty of them at Eaux +Tranquilles."</p> + +<p>The speakers were Grancey and Germain. The Baron's face was full of +indignation; Lecour's of platonic contempt.</p> + +<p>The door of the Hall of the King's Guards opened, and the sentinels +saluted for a Duke, while the Prince of Luxembourg entered. The Guards +who were awake aroused their comrades. All sprang to their arms and +saluted.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said the Prince, "you will be glad to know that his Majesty +has such trust in your faithfulness that he is sleeping as quietly as +usual."</p> + +<p>A shout of "Vive le Roi!" arose.</p> + +<p>The Prince withdrew. From the opposite door—that of the Hall of the +Queen, now came out Monsieur d'Aguesseau, Mayor of the Guard, who was +making the disposition of sentries.</p> + +<p>The contingent, who were still standing, turned to him with looks of +anxiety, and Lecour, as spokesman for the rest, said respectfully—</p> + +<p>"How sleeps the Queen?"</p> + +<p>"Her Majesty, alas! does not sleep. She starts up continually, haunted +by the foul insults of yesterday and the immense unmerited hatred of the +people of France. What a load for a woman to bear!"</p> + +<p>The cry of "Vive la Reine!" which had been ready went forth only as a +low murmur.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said d'Aguesseau, "our duty may be grave before long. +General Lafayette has, it is true, assumed the external defence of the +Palace with the National Guard of Paris. At the same time, we must +remember that that Guard are now scattered among the churches of the +town and fast asleep, while the invaders are a countless multitude at +our doors, and we but a handful. On us depend, as on a thread, the lives +of our King and Queen and of all these helpless persons of the +household. Remember, sirs, that your time to die, the soldier's hour of +glory, may now have come."</p> + +<p>A shoot of "Vive le Roi!" from every throat was again the response. It +echoed through the windows across the Court of Marble and down the +Great Staircase. It was memorable as the last loyal cry of the household +of Versailles.</p> + +<p>"The hour has arrived to change guard," Mayor d'Aguesseau went on. "Will +you, Monsieur de Lincy, take command in the Hall of the Queen?"</p> + +<p>D'Aguesseau passed on to inspect the precautions at other points of the +Palace.</p> + +<p>No sooner had he left than the men disposed themselves with serious +faces for active work. A sympathetic feeling of devotion displayed +itself. Suddenly Des Huttes, the best voice in the company of Noailles, +struck up solemnly that tender reminiscence from the opera of "Richard +Cœe Lion"—</p> + +<p class="c"> +"Oh, Richard, oh my King, the world forsaketh thee," +</p> + +<p>and the Bodyguards, overcome with emotion, one and all stood still with +bended heads.</p> + +<p>It was then about three o'clock.</p> + +<p>In four hours' more the French Monarchy was to fall and the ancient +<i>régime</i> to pass like a dream. The east wind dashed a terrible gust of +rain against the windows and shook their panes like a summons.</p> + +<p class="d"> * * * * * </p> + +<p>"Oh, Richard, oh my King, the world forsaketh thee," haunted Germain as +he paced the Hall of the Queen's Guards. Recent political events +connected with the drawing up of a national constitution, and the hunger +of the poor, which they naturally blamed on those in power, had, he +knew, raised deep animosity towards Louis XVI. and the Queen. Her +thoughtless life of gaiety in past days, and the greedy demands of her +friends the Polignacs, had made her particularly the mark of venomous +hate. As d'Aguesseau said, "what a load for a woman to bear!" The +thought raised in Lecour the deepest pity. Opposite him was the door of +the first antechamber, called the Grand Couvert, where had posted +Varicourt, and within it some dozen others. There Varicourt stood, +handsome and elegantly uniformed, at that beautiful door in that fine +hall. Yet behind all this elegance what misery! The Canadian could not +suppress the vision of the tortured Queen starting out of her sleep in +her chamber a few paces away. This suffering woman was in his charge—he +must be loyal to her and lay down his life before hers should be taken. +Well, he had faced death before—it had not yet quite come to that; but +he would be loyal and true. Oh, if he could only cross for a few minutes +to the Noailles mansion and have a word with Cyrène. Was she in danger +too? His heart ached with anxiety.</p> + +<p>So the hours of the night passed.</p> + +<p>A little before six, while he was resting on a bench and all seemed +quiet, he suddenly heard shouting. He was startled, for it was much +nearer than the Place d'Armes. Yes, there was no doubt of it; he heard a +pistol-shot close by, and at the same time he sprang to his feet. There +was a simultaneous stir in the Great Hall of the Guards, and de +Varicourt, at the entrance to the Queen's antechamber, rapidly drew his +sword. So did du Repaire, sentinel at the door to the Marble Staircase.</p> + +<p>Germain ordered Miomandre de Ste. Marie, another faithful Guardsman, who +was posted at the door of the Great Hall, to go down the Marble +Staircase and bring back a report of the trouble.</p> + +<p>It afterwards appeared that the two of Lafayette's Paris militiamen +posted at the outer gateway had betrayed their trust and let in the mob +of viragoes and armed brigands who pressed for admittance early in the +morning. Now commenced a season of terror in the Palace.</p> + +<p>No sooner had Miomandre reached the head of the staircase, and Lecour +looked after him out of the open door, than they both saw the court +below alive with a lashing ocean of pikes and furious faces.</p> + +<p>The two Swiss sentinels who kept the foot of the staircase had managed +to check the rush, and for a moment the brigands checked themselves to +get each a hack at an object they had thrown down. Lecour saw instantly +that this object was a man—a Bodyguard—who, as with a tremendous +effort he threw off his assailants and stood up, the streams of blood +pouring over his face, he recognised as poor Des Huttes. Germain's first +impulse was to bound down the steps to his rescue—but discipline did +its work and checked him. Should he leave his post, what would become of +the Queen? Des Huttes during the moment of this quick reflection, was +brained from behind by a man in a red cap, and fell, pierced with +countless pike-wounds. His eyes still moved when the rag-picker Gougeon +ran in, and, placing his foot on the chest, chopped the head from the +body with blows of an axe. In an instant it was stuck on the point of a +pike and triumphantly carried away.</p> + +<p>Lecour, his brain on fire, drew back and steadied himself to retain +presence of mind.</p> + +<p>An instant after he could hear the roar of the mob as it surged up and +the voice of Miomandre shouting to them, "My friends, you love your +King."</p> + +<p>They rushed on Miomandre and tried to kill him as they had done Des +Huttes; but he was quick, and springing to the embrasure of a window, +defended himself, while the yelling booty-seekers, athirst for +easier-seized treasures, turned to press forward into the apartment of +the Queen. The attack came quickly, but Germain shut the door in time +and locked it, and thanks to the perfect make of the lock its bolt held +out against the onset. That could not long be, however, as he knew the +panels must give way before their axes.</p> + +<p>"Stand firm, du Repaire!" he cried, and ran across the hall to where de +Varicourt was guarding the door of the Queen's antechamber. Before +passing in, he grasped the hand of the devoted Bodyguard, who understood +that his hour had come, crossed himself, and answered with a look of +unalterable devotion.</p> + +<p>Germain closed the door of the antechamber lovingly and regretfully, +locked and bolted it.</p> + +<p>The howling pack were but a few minutes in breaking in. He could hear +their shouts of triumph and the shameless cries of the women against +Marie Antoinette.</p> + +<p>Astonished at finding themselves in the inside of the Palace, the first +comers were dumbfounded, but a red-nosed beggar in a red cap immediately +sprang towards de Varicourt, shouting, "This way to the Austrian!"</p> + +<p>"Vive la Nation!" roared men who were looting the tapestry from the +benches.</p> + +<p>"Death to the Sow!" was the shriek of Wife Gougeon.</p> + +<p>"Death to the aristocrat!" shouted the Admiral with a devilish laugh, +leading the rush on de Varicourt.</p> + +<p>The latter defended himself with all his strength, first with his +clubbed musket, then with his sword. For some seconds he kept the +murderers at bay, and it seemed to du Repaire, looking eagerly across +the hall, that after all the impossible might be accomplished, and the +valour of his comrade stem the accursed horde. To no purpose. As he +turned like lightning to deliver a thrust to the left, a blow from a +billhook on the right crushed his skull; he dropped, and his bleeding +body was instantly robbed and dragged out to the Place d'Armes.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile du Repaire, inspired by the heroic conduct of de Varicourt, +took advantage of the momentary diversion to slip across and occupy his +fallen comrade's post. The assailants, some of the boldest of whom had +suffered from de Varicourt's sword, were astonished and daunted by the +sight of another Bodyguard in the same place.</p> + +<p>"<i>Canaille!</i> we know how to die!" he cried, and stood ready to strike +the first on-comer.</p> + +<p>"So do we!" cried the Admiral, and struck at him, but tripped and was +pulled back.</p> + +<p>"Save yourself, du Repaire, if you can," commanded Germain from within +the door.</p> + +<p>Seizing the moment's confusion, du Repaire sprang through the weakest +part of the semicircle around him, and scattering the tramps in the rest +of the hall before him, reached the door of the Great Hall of the Guards +opposite, not without several wounds. The door was fortunately opened +and Grancey, who opened it, emptied his pistol into the foremost pursuer +and killed him, obtaining time to lock and bolt again.</p> + +<p>The crowning instance of the spirit of the Bodyguard was now given. +Miomandre de Ste Marie, who had sheltered himself from the first rush of +the mob in the window embrasure at the head of the staircase, seeing the +crowd rush after du Repaire, and not knowing of the command to abandon +the post, sped over and stationed himself in the same position. +Meanwhile, during the few minutes in which all this took place, Germain +had opened the door of the Queen's drawing-room and said quietly to a +lady of honour, "Save the Queen; they want to kill her." The ladies of +honour bolted the drawing-room door, hurried to the Queen, hastily +dressed her, opened a secret door in a panel near her bed, and hurried +her by a passage to the chamber of the King.</p> + +<p>Miomandre, meanwhile, was attacked like Varicourt and du Repaire. +Knocked down from behind with the butt of a musket, he would have been +despatched but for the scramble of the Galley men to rob his body of his +watch, and by the diversion of the rage of the crowd against his +companions shut in the Great Hall.</p> + +<p>While Ste Marie lay insensible, those in the Great Hall were actively +piling up benches against the door and removing the stacks of arms to +the Oeil de Boeuf, which adjoined it, and where they proposed to make +their next stand in the way to the apartments of the King. The Count of +Guiche and the Prince of Luxembourg worked like the rest, and just as +the door crashed through the last of the weapons were brought into the +Oeil de Boeuf and its entrance closed. The Hall of the Courtiers seemed +to receive the unusual invasion with the inperturbability of a courtier. +One scene of bustling life appeared to suit it as well as another, even +though death were so near to follow. The little reserve were drawn up in +order, determined to fight it out there together.</p> + +<p>And now a long, low sound was heard in the distance. It approached, and +as it grew the shouts of rage in the Great Hall ceased, and a roar of +scuttling feet was heard. Lafayette's National Guard were approaching, +and as the serried lines, advancing at the double, reached the Court of +Marble, their drum-beats suddenly burst into a thunderous roll, and the +Court, the staircase, and the halls were cleared of the cowardly rabble.</p> + +<p>Such was the glorious defence of the Bodyguard. And so the Queen was +saved.</p> + +<p>The Queen was saved; the King was saved; the household was saved—at +least for the present—but the monarchy was lost.</p> + +<p>His Majesty left Versailles at one o'clock. The Queen, the Dauphin, +Madame Royale, Monsieur, Madame Elizabeth, the King's sister and Madame +de Tourzel, governess of the children of France, were in his Majesty's +carriage.</p> + +<p>A hundred deputies of the Assembly in their carriages came next. The +advance guard, which was formed of a detachment of the brigands, set out +two hours earlier. In front of them Hache and Motte danced in triumph, +carrying the pallid heads of Des Huttes and de Varicourt aloft on their +pikes.</p> + +<p>They stopped a moment at Sèvres in front of the shop of an unfortunate +hairdresser. They caught hold of the latter and forced him to dress the +gory heads; a task which made the poor man a hopeless maniac the same +evening.</p> + +<p>The bulk of the Paris National Guard followed them closely. The King's +carriage was preceded by Wife Gougeon and the fishwomen and a rabble of +prostitutes, the vile refuse of their sex, all raving with fury and +wine.</p> + +<p>Several rode astride upon cannon, boasting in the most horrible songs of +the crimes they had committed themselves or seen others commit. Those +who were nearest the carriage sang ballads, the allusions in which, by +means of their gestures, they applied to the Queen. In the paroxysms of +their drunken merriment these women stopped passengers, and pointing to +the carriage, howled in their ears, "Cheer up, friends, we shall no +longer be in want of bread; we bring the baker, the baker's wife, and +the baker's boy."</p> + +<p>They pointed to waggons which followed, full of corn and flour, which +had been brought into Versailles, and formed a train, escorted by +Grenadiers and surrounded by women and bullies, some armed with pikes +and some carrying long branches of poplar. This favourite part of the +<i>cortège</i> looked at some distance like a moving grove, amidst which +shone pike-heads and gun-barrels. Above and in front of the motley +procession which accompanied them, mounted high on one of the waggons, +rode Death himself, so the spectators thought, grinning, triumphing, and +directing the whole, in the shape of the skull-like countenance of the +Admiral of the Galley-on-Land.</p> + +<p>Behind his Majesty's carriage were the remnant of the Bodyguard, some on +foot and some on horseback, most of them uncovered, all unarmed, and +worn out with hunger and fatigue. The Dragoons, the Flanders regiment, +the Hundred Swiss and the National Guards, preceded, accompanied, or +followed the file of carriages.</p> + +<p>Lecour, weak with the night's anxiety and the frightful disappointment +of the day, had scarcely strength to drag himself along between two +Grenadiers, who from time to time supported him, and one of whose great +hairy caps he wore as a token of fraternity. All at once hell seemed to +have risen about him. He heard a united yell from many savage throats, +and saw a ring of red-capped brutes lunging and striking at himself, and +a little woman-fiend sprang at his breast and buried something sharp in +it.</p> + +<p>The last thing of which he was conscious was the satanic revengefulness +of her eyes.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLVIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">SISTERS DEATH AND TRUTH</p> + + +<p>At a second-story window, in an unpretentious part of the Rue St. +Honoré—known just then as the Rue Honoré, for the saints had been +abolished, together with the terrestrial aristocracy—a young woman was +sitting one late July afternoon employed in sewing. She was pale, thin, +and poorly clad. Her fingers were very nervous as she hurried on with +her work.</p> + +<p>For three years the surges of the Revolutionary deluge had succeeded one +another with ever-increasing rapidity, and at last threatened to swallow +the entire inhabitants of the city. "The generation which saw the +monarchical <i>régime</i> will always regret it," Robespierre was crying, +"therefore every individual who was more than fifteen years old in 1789 +should have his throat cut." "Away with the nobles!" was shouting +another vicious leader, "and if there are any good ones so much the +worse for them. Let the guillotine work incessantly through the whole +Republic. France has nineteen millions too many inhabitants, she will +have enough with five." "Milk is the nourishment of infants," announced +another; "blood is that of the children of liberty."</p> + +<p>The new doctrine was not merely being shouted; it was being carried into +practice as fast as the executioner could work, and sometimes in a +single afternoon the life-stream of two hundred hearts gushed out +through two hundred severed necks on the Place de la Révolution. The +King, and at last the Queen, were among the slaughtered. None knew but +that his or her turn, or that of his dearest ones might come next. A too +respectable dress, a thoughtless expression, the malice of an +extortionate workman, or the offending of a servant, meant death. Even +the wickedest were betrayed by their associates to the Goddess of Blood, +and citizens, as they hurried along the deserted and filthy streets, +looked at each other with suspicious eyes. On the throne of France's +ancient sovereigns sat a shadowy monarch from hell, and all recognised +his name and reign—The Reign of Terror.</p> + +<p>In the midst of that thunder-fraught atmosphere sat this poor girl, +mechanically glancing down the street from time to time at the silent +houses, each with the legal paper affixed stating the names of the +inmates, for the information of the revolutionary committees.</p> + +<p>Her bearing, though humble, announced her as one of the hated class, and +by scrutinising her thin features we see that she is "the Citizeness +Montmorency, heretofore Baroness."</p> + +<p>She was absorbed in thought. Recollections, one by one, of the changes +which had made her an old woman in experience at the age when most +maidens become brides, were crossing her mind. She recalled the alarming +news brought to the Hôtel de Noailles of the march of the viragoes on +Versailles, and with that news her suspense for the safety of Germain; +the entry of General Lafayette (who was married to a Noailles) into the +hotel towards morning, smilingly assuring the family that all was well; +her agony upon word of the attack on the royal apartments; the deadly +illness of Germain at the Hôtel-Dieu Hospital, whither some National +Guards had taken him; the pauper bed and gown in which the Sisters of +the Hospital kept him hidden from the roused populace who searched the +wards for him; her own assumption of the humble dress of a servitor to +nurse him; his pretended death and burial by substitute; his long +delirium, her joy at his return to life; his gratitude and +convalescence; the forced dispersal of the Sisters, and with it her +removal of her charge to the half-deserted Hôtel de Poix; the mob +sacking mansion after mansion around them and their inexplicable +exemption; an anonymous warning at length to flee, and the subterfuges +of Dominique to cover their removal to the present house.</p> + +<p>She thought also of the faithfulness of Germain to the King throughout +his misfortunes, and how in order to be ready for service in case of a +royalist opportunity, he had refused even her own entreaties to flee.</p> + +<p>And sewing on and looking with habitual apprehension down the street, +she thought of the blanks in the old circle—sadly, but without tears, +for she had grown beyond tears over memories, so often had she been +called to shed them for events.</p> + +<p>With sorrowful recollection she saw again her good friend, Hélène de +Merecourt, and her own sister Jeanne, disappear out of life.</p> + +<p>There was that terrible day when the King was beheaded, and that other +when the Queen followed him; Bellecour, d'Amoreau, the Canoness, +Vaudreuil, the Guiches, the Polignacs, were in exile. Others were +concealed, scattered, outlawed, some perhaps included in the massacres; +some perhaps lost among the immense number crowded into the seventy +prisons of the City. When would <i>her</i> turn arrive? When Germain's?</p> + +<p>A distant sound made her lips part in alarm. It was the too well-known +surging murmur of a mob approaching. She hastily rose and closed the +window. The Rue Honoré was one of the highways particularly exposed to +persecution, for its chief portion was lined with mansions where dwelt +many of the "aristocrats." The great <i>porte cochère</i> and street wall of +one were in full view of her window, coated with insulting placards and +painted in huge letters, "NATIONAL PROPERTY—Liberty, Equality, +Fraternity." How far the property had become national may be inferred +from the fact that the patriot commissioner who took its chattels into +his charge, and whose name was signed with a mark at the bottom of the +placard, was—Gougeon.</p> + +<p>In this quiet part of the street, however, the smaller houses usually +passed unscathed, and the neighbourhood had the advantage of its +residents not being so prying as in quarters still poorer. So that by +aid of some bribery of patriots of the section, discreetly done by +Dominique, their slender stores of money had thus far seemed to suffice +to obtain them immunity. We say seemed to suffice, because there was +something very remarkable, after all, in the escape of a Montmorency, +and particularly one so intimate with the obnoxious Maréchale de +Noailles.</p> + +<p>The mob of women and red-capped men swarmed up the street, led by a +drum, and singing "Ça ira"—</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"Ah, on it goes, and on it goes, and on it goes!—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 22%;">The aristocrats to the lantern!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Ah, on it goes, and on it goes, and on it goes!—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 22%;">The aristocrats, we'll hang them."</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>In front of the confiscated hotel the <i>Sans-culottes</i> stopped, and, +joining hands in a circle, whirled around in the wild Revolutionary +dance, "the Carmagnole," singing the words—</p> + +<p class="c"><br /> +"Madame Veto had pledged her word,<br /> +<i>Madame Veto had pledged her word</i><br /> +To put all Paris to the sword,<br /> +<i>To put all Paris to the sword</i>,<br /> +Thanks to our canoneers.<br /> +Dance, dance the Carmagnole,<br /> +Hurrah for the sound,<br /> +<i>Hurrah for the sound</i>,<br /> +Dance, dance the Carmagnole,<br /> +Hurrah for the sound of the cannon!"<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>She watched the dancers, involuntarily fascinated. All at once an object +tapped against the window, and she noticed many eyes turned up to her in +malicious amusement. The object was pushed up to her on a long pole and +again tapped on the window; she dropped her sewing and sprang back with +a scream. It was a human hand. A shout of coarse laughter met her ears, +and the hand was withdrawn. She sank back in her chair and burst into +tears.</p> + +<p>"Wretches!" cried a woman, darting forward from behind her and shaking a +fist at the window.</p> + +<p>"Oh, be careful," Cyrène gasped, pulling back the arm. "Have they seen +you?"</p> + +<p>"I fear so," was the answer, as dismayed as her question; and a number +of blows and thrusts sounded against the door below. But it was only a +momentary diversion; the crowd had work cut out for it somewhere else +and the drum drew them onwards.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Germain," she said hysterically, "why do you risk your life so?"</p> + +<p>"Because it is worthless," replied the apparent woman, pulling off his +hood and throwing aside the rest of his disguise. But I am a fool to +endanger you that way. Oh my darling, you who saved my life, is it not +rather to comfort you at times like this that I live?" and he knelt and +kissed her hand.</p> + +<p>"Dearest," she answered softly, "you make my life happy in the very +midst of horrors."</p> + +<p>"I am unworthy of your love," he returned mournfully, rising to his +feet.</p> + +<p>"You say that too often; but have not the old reasons lost their force? +Even here we could make a home. Let us defer our marriage no longer."</p> + +<p>"We cannot marry," he said slowly.</p> + +<p>She thought he spoke of the prohibition of Christian rites by the law, +and said—"But Dominique knows of a priest, who is hidden in a cellar at +his cousin's."</p> + +<p>He shook his head and she read a soul of infinite sorrow in his eyes as +they rested on her face.</p> + +<p>"It is the thought of his own death," was the interpretation that +flashed upon her.</p> + +<p>A rap was heard.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Dominique," said he.</p> + +<p>The list of inmates affixed to the front of the house would have +explained Germain's disguise. It read—</p> + +<p>"The Citizen Dominique Levesque, boarding-house keeper.</p> + +<p>"<i>The Citizeness Marie Levesque, his wife.</i></p> + +<p>"The Citizeness Montmorency, sempstress."</p> + +<p>"Citizeness Levesque" was sometimes observed about the house by the +neighbours, but the family, like many others, cultivated no intercourse. +Wearing the garb only whenever absolutely necessary, he took part each +day in whatever work was obtained to support the household, and at night +went out to keep track of what was happening.</p> + +<p>At the time of the guillotining of the Queen, he was restrained with +difficulty from throwing his life away in an insane rush upon the +murderers.</p> + +<p>"My Lady Baroness," Dominique said, clinging to all the old delicate +form of his respect—for the faithful servitor was as chivalrous as any +knight—"I regret to report that there is a new law compelling everybody +to take out cards of civism, as they call them, at the Hôtel de Ville. +During the trouble at our door a few moments ago, some of the +<i>Sans-culottes</i> threatened to return. I consider it absolutely necessary +that Madame and I should go at once and obtain these credentials."</p> + +<p>"Is there no way of getting them without Madame? It looks to me +dangerous," Lecour said.</p> + +<p>"The demand must be made in person, Monsieur le Chevalier. I have +thought that question over very carefully."</p> + +<p>"If is the most dangerous thing yet."</p> + +<p>"I do not conceal the risk, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Dear Dominique," Cyrène put in firmly, "I am ready to do all you say."</p> + +<p>"Yes, our more than parent," Lecour added in tears, "she is ready to +trust her life in your hands," and going over to Dominique he put his +arm upon his shoulder and kissed him.</p> + +<p>The old man's lip trembled and he withdrew, and at the same time Cyrène +also left the chamber to prepare for the ordeal.</p> + +<p>Then did Germain fully realise the sharpness of dread. She whom he loved +was in the direst peril. He saw the gulf which had swallowed so many +others yawning for her life, and he trembled as he had never trembled +before. It must be said for him that he had always valued his own life +little and had been willing to risk it for another on more occasions +than one. It was when not he but his heart's beloved was in such danger +that his eyes were opened to the greatness of the fact of death. +Moreover he felt that he was helpless to lessen the peril. For him to +accompany her to the Hôtel de Ville was to make her fate absolutely +certain. That charge must be left to Dominique, and—God!</p> + +<p>God! He had not dared to think of God for years; yet now the Divine Face +appeared through the dissolving vision of things mortal, and he suddenly +saw it looming dim and awful as the one changeless Reality.</p> + +<p>Her step sounded returning and he composed himself. Both tried to be +brave. Both were thinking of the other's happiness.</p> + +<p>"Have no anxieties, my dear one," she exclaimed, coming close to him, +her eyes moistened and voice trembling slightly, "I have our good +Dominique to take care of me, and we shall soon return."</p> + +<p>"I do not doubt it," he replied as cheerily as he was able, bending and +gently kissing her forehead. "Prudence and Courage!—all shall go +rightly."</p> + +<p>But at the touch of his lips she started, threw her arms around his neck +and passionately drew him to her.</p> + +<p>"And what, my beloved, if it should <i>not</i> go rightly?—what for you to +be left behind?"</p> + +<p>"Darling, darling, do not say it," he cried, fervently returning her +embraces. "All must and will go rightly. We cannot live without each +other. Trust in Providence."</p> + +<p>Ah, what those words meant for him!</p> + +<p>"I do," she murmured, "but would that Dominique's priest were here. I +long for the eternal union of our souls."</p> + +<p>He pressed her to his breast in great emotion, then loosed his arms and +stood looking sorrowfully at her again, as for the last time.</p> + +<p>"<i>Au revoir</i>," she whispered, her eyes intensely searching into his.</p> + +<p>"<i>Au revoir, ma chère</i>," he answered, mastering his voice with all his +strength.</p> + +<p>Then she and Dominique left the house.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER XLIX</a></h3> + +<p class="c">CIVIC VIRTUE</p> + + +<p>Dominique and the citizeness proceeded as unobtrusively as they could +along the Rue Honoré. He hurried her past the Rue Florentin, down which +he knew, without looking, was to be seen the tall machine of execution +on the Place de la Révolution.</p> + +<p>At first they passed few people, but on approaching the centre of the +City they saw numbers in front of the <i>cafés</i> and even going to the +theatre. Flashy carriages of thievish men who had enriched themselves +under the new conditions, rolled frequently by. The basis of their +power, the squalid element with jealous, insolent eyes, also increased +on the pavements.</p> + +<p>At the Rue de la Monnaie they turned towards the Quays. Just as they +were turning, a young woman, whose head was covered with a shawl, glided +from a gateway and addressed them.</p> + +<p>They both started suspiciously, but the poor creature proved to be only +seeking charity, and Cyrène, struck by a certain desperation in her +tone, turned to give her a couple of <i>sous</i>. In passing the coins their +eyes met, and the mendicant started.</p> + +<p>"Great God! Madame Baroness, you do not know me?"</p> + +<p>The voice, though altered in quality, recalled other times. Her features +became recognisable, and the identity of their owner came over Cyrène.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle de Richeval!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>The sprightly companion of princesses was begging her bread. Her wit and +beauty had disappeared, the once bright eyes were sharp, the once +blooming cheeks were wrinkled and shrunk.</p> + +<p>"Ladies, remember the spies," said Dominique.</p> + +<p>"Go to our house, my dear," Cyrène whispered hastily. "It is No. 409, +Rue Honoré, you will get supper there, and await us."</p> + +<p>"409, Rue Honoré," the other repeated, and hastened to the promised +food.</p> + +<p>Continuing, the two reached the Hôtel de Ville at seven o'clock. Though +early, the spacious building was lighted from attic to basement, and +slipping in through a swarm of <i>Sans-culottes</i> who surrounded the +doorsteps, they entered the great hall. As they were going in the +"Marseillaise" began to be pounded, and the entry, from the opposite +direction, of persons of much more importance than they, attracted the +eyes of the men and women who smoked and knitted round the hall. The +incomers were the President and heads of the Commune of Paris, each +arrayed in his tricolor <i>carmagnole</i>, red bonnet, and great sabre.</p> + +<p>The President was the Admiral. His glittering eyes swept the chamber, +and singling out Cyrène as by premeditation, rested upon her face. He +was unknown to her, but at his smile she shuddered.</p> + +<p>These exalted personages—robbers, murderers, tavern-keepers, +kettle-menders—sat down on their raised tribune, while Cyrène and +Dominique were pushed by the guards into some rows of benches in front +of but not facing them. The individuals on these benches were as yet +few, and Cyrène looked apprehensively around the place, while Dominique +took mental notes. They saw, forming the sides of the hall, two +amphitheatres filled with Jacobin women knitting, patching trousers or +waistcoats, and watching the benches of supplicants for the cards of +civism, and made remarks to one another aloud.</p> + +<p>"That one's not <i>Sans-culotte</i> enough for me," called out a young woman +in a red bonnet, and crossing over with the stride of a Grenadier to +Cyrène, stood before her, arms akimbo, and cried shrilly, "Saint +Guillotine for your patron, my delicate Ma'mselle."</p> + +<p>The use of the prescribed address "ma'mselle" was evidently regarded as +a witticism, for shouts of laughter filled the place.</p> + +<p>Just then the President rang his bell, and as he did so he looked at +Cyrène significantly. Shrink as she might from his leer, she could not +but feel grateful, for he had evidently rung purposely.</p> + +<p>A secretary began the minutes, which consisted of resolutions of Jacobin +joy at the capture of a once idolised patriot who had lately been +denounced by Robespierre for counselling mercy to prisoners.</p> + +<p>The name of Robespierre excited enthusiastic applause.</p> + +<p>A set of benches facing those of the applicants had stood thus far +empty. They were now filled by the entry of a body of representatives +furnished by certain of the forty-eight sections of the City, whereupon +the "Marseillaise" was again beat, and several of the councillors lit +their pipes.</p> + +<p>The principal sections represented were those of the Pikes and the +Fish-market.</p> + +<p>Some one called for "Ça ira." It was succeeded by a harangue of the +Admiral against the captured ex-patriot. Cyrène followed with horror +every word of his oratory, every movement of his declamation, the air of +pride with which he played upon the passions of the <i>Sans-culottes</i>, +and the wicked sweep of the principles he announced.</p> + +<p>"That all mankind deserve massacre," he cried, smiling, "is the +philosophic general rule; the sole exceptions are the true patriots. By +title of liberty, the possessions of all belong to them alone. And how +can we know the true patriot? <i>By his red cap and his red hand.</i>"</p> + +<p>Finally the long suspense of the applicants was brought to a close; the +secretary called the first on the list.</p> + +<p>"Citizeness Montmorency."</p> + +<p>At the once great name a silence fell over the place.</p> + +<p>Then a murmur ran through the benches of the Jacobin women, while Cyrène +summoned her courage. The murmur was not long in taking shape.</p> + +<p>"The Montmorencys are a brood of monsters," energetically called the +young Jacobiness, rising in her place.</p> + +<p>"The aristocrat to the guillotine!" shouted a drunken man.</p> + +<p>"The guillotine!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes—to La Force immediately!"</p> + +<p>These and similar cries resounded. They fell upon Cyrène's ears like +thunders of hostile artillery in a battle. Dominique sat quite still. +His mistress rose. Now that the instant of danger had actually come she +felt an inconquerable courage well up in her, which, as she stood with +brilliant eye and glowing cheek, made her very beautiful. This was not +in her favour with the envious knitters; but while they commented in +frightful language on her gentle build, the secretary said—"Are you the +person?"</p> + +<p>"I am," she answered clearly.</p> + +<p>"Are you not," he continued glancing at the audience for approbation, +"the late aristocrat Baroness of that name?"</p> + +<p>"I am," she replied, in a tone still clearer and more fearless.</p> + +<p>The President's face gleamed with admiration. He rang his bell sharply +and the clamours subsided. His glittering eyes devoured her features, +while he said—</p> + +<p>"Does anybody know the citizeness and answer for her civism?" He +hurriedly added, "Adjourned; call the next."</p> + +<p>Dominique caught her by the arm to make their exit, for though he could +not assign a reason for the Admiral's device of favour, he was ready to +take advantage of it.</p> + +<p>As they started, one of the section members sprang up and exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"I answer for the citizeness."</p> + +<p>He was a man of less than thirty, and of open, enthusiastic expression, +and wore the uniform of a National Guard.</p> + +<p>"You, citizen la Tour?" the Admiral exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Cyrène eyed the member in grateful but intense wonder. She had never to +her knowledge seen him before.</p> + +<p>"Yes, citizen President," he replied earnestly, "I answer for the +citizeness because she saved my life."</p> + +<p>The crowd hushed by a common impulse.</p> + +<p>"You all know me, brothers," he cried, "my record for the Revolution, my +passion for liberty—Liberty, Liberty, Liberty! It has been my dream +under the stars, my labour under the sun, my love and my desire. I was, +as all know, a patriot proscribed and condemned to death before the +Revolution began. I was of the first at the hanging of Foulon, at the +sacking of Reveillon, and at the walls of the Bastille. I was wounded in +the stand against the Dragoons of Lambesc, and all know my scars in the +battles of the North. I name these things only to prove the claim of +this woman to civic rights. By her pity she saved my life in the old +days, at the last moment before my breaking on the wheel. Imagine to +yourselves that moment. Ask how I can feel other than gratitude and +devotion to my benefactress. In the evil days of the aristocrats she was +a friend of the poor. I present her now to you when it is in our power +to confer liberty upon her who set at liberty, life upon her who saved +life. I, the child of the Revolution, pray this as my right; she claims +it also for herself as a heroine of civic virtue. Give your suffrages."</p> + +<p>"Vive la Tour! vive the citizeness!" resounded in shouts through the +hall. Once more the Admiral rang his bell, and silenced followed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, citizeness," he said, addressing her, "your courage is French +courage, your virtue French virtue, and the good heart of the nation +sees in you a daughter of the people. Incarnating the spirit of the +race, be welcome at the tables of fraternity, and accept the homage of +all hearts."</p> + +<p>At a motion of his hand the secretary hastily filled in her certificate, +and Dominique, without waiting for his own, hurried her away. Even as +they left they heard Wife Gougeon scream—</p> + +<p>"Death to the aristocrat!"</p> + +<p>They hastened across the Place de Grève, but had not yet reached the +corner of the street beyond, when in the dusk Cyrène heard the sound of +rushing wheels, felt herself choked by a gag from behind, and was pushed +helpless by rough hands into a coach and driven away. Behind her she +heard a sound of scuffle and the voice of Dominique cry aloud in +anguish—</p> + +<p>"They have finished me!"</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, my lady," spoke the voice of Abbé Jude.</p> + +<p>She knew no more till she woke in darkness.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER L</a></h3> + +<p class="c">JUDGMENT DAY</p> + + +<p>Germain, left alone in the house, bolted the door, returned with +trembling limbs to the room above and threw himself down in his chair +blanched and nerveless. They who have experienced the minutes when a +well-loved one hangs between life and death can alone know what he +suffered. It was now that the fleeting poverty of the ideals he had been +following became visible. The elegance, the pride, the historic glamour, +the fine breeding of the Old <i>Régime</i>, by which he had been fascinated, +had they not fallen to pieces like a flower whose petals are scattered +in the tempest? Even the burning hope of his heart, the dream of a life +of earthly bliss with his love, was showing its insecurity and dropping +asunder. His ship was sinking in the ocean of Eternity. How futile his +intrigue, how mean his deceptions, how insufficient his excuses. The +Everlasting Presence gazed through them, and in its all-illumining blaze +they fell and sank away. He saw that that which underlies life and death +and all that is, is a living Conscience, to which all must perforce +conform. Pride, deception, selfishness, uncontrol of passion, the taking +of that which was not his, and the injuring of honourable men—these +excrescences he saw upon his soul, and that without their surgery it +would never be divine. He remembered the prophetic warning of his +father that "Eternal Justice calls us to exact account"; and the +pertinacity of Retribution in the matter of the Golden Dog. He saw that +the justice of this life and the next are one, and are absolutely +complete in their demands. One great conclusion came to him with +overwhelming force; he saw that it was the plan of Heaven that <i>no man +must profit by any fruit of his wrong</i>. He now himself must meet that +justice and make that retribution.</p> + +<p>At length, leaving the room, he dragged himself up the stair leading to +his own chamber, a cramped place in the flat above, bearing small +resemblance to his luxurious apartments of former days; yet around it +were hung the de Lincy family portraits; his sword of the Bodyguard lay +on the mantel; and in the space behind the door were the old Chevalier's +iron-bound muniment-chest and his own little portmanteau gilded with his +arms.</p> + +<p>With fevered face and icy hands he opened the latter and sought out the +packet of his proofs of <i>noblesse</i>. Then turning to the fireplace +beneath the mantel, he threw the papers one by one into it—his +falsified birth-certificate, his father's altered marriage-contract, the +letter of the gentlemen of Montreal, the apology of Councillor de Léry, +the will of the Chevalier de Lincy and the attestation of the +Genealogist of France. He took a flint and steel from the mantel and +quickly struck spark after spark into them until they sprang into +flames. Then he added his great genealogical tree of the de Lincys, +whose branches withered and quivered, like his heart, as the fire +attacked the broad folds of the parchment. Packet after packet the +precious archives of the Lecours de Lincy went upon the pile until he +had emptied the muniment-chest; the fire raged and reddened into a solid +mass, and they were irrevocably gone. Next he took up de Bailleul's +will—sorrowfully and hesitatingly, for it was his title to Eaux +Tranquilles—but the following instant he threw it also on the flames. +Then he deliberately cast in his Grand Cross of St. Louis and the +insignia of the Order of the Holy Ghost. His <i>Diamond Armorial</i> +followed, he tore his seal, cut with the pretended coat-of-arms, from +his watch-chain, broke up with his foot his little portmanteau, and +tearing down the de Lincy portraits one by one watched all blaze up and +consume together. At last, on the top of the heap, he mournfully laid +his sword of the Bodyguard and saw its golden handle and delicate blade +begin to glow and discolour.</p> + +<p>"Disappear, old dreams;" he murmured, "Eternal Justice visit me for all! +But afflict not <i>her</i>; spare thine angel for her own sake. Oh, spare +<i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>One packet remained, which he had intentionally not destroyed. When the +fire settled down a little he took a strong paper and cord, wrapped and +sealed it, and addressed it for mailing as follows—</p> + +<table summary="papers" cellpadding="25" style="text-align:center;border: solid 1px black;" cellspacing="0"> +<tr><td>RECORD OF PROOFS AGAINST G. LECOUR,<br /> +THE PROPERTY OF MONSIEUR LOUIS R. C.<br /> +DE LÉRY,<br /> + <br /> +<i>Late Bodyguard of the King of France</i>,<br /> + <br /> +AT QUEBEC<br /> +IN CANADA.<br /></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>Humbly he descended the stair once more, and placing the package on the +table of the sitting-room, sank again feverishly into his chair, +prepared to confess all should Cyrène safely return.</p> + +<p>A knocking sounded in the lower part of the house. He went to the door; +the wicket showed a beggar woman, but on Mademoiselle Richeval +mentioning her name he recognised her and let her in. His mind was so +absorbed that he felt no surprise. As food was what she wanted he set +before her everything in their little larder; and while she was eating +like one famished he forgot her presence completely. The two once so +sociable persons were for a while dumb to each other.</p> + +<p>At length, however, having satisfied her ravenous hunger, she commenced +to speak of the changes which the Revolution had brought to them and to +wonder at his strange want of interest, when the noise of a mob crowding +around the door was heard.</p> + +<p>Lecour saw what might happen.</p> + +<p>"Fly, Mademoiselle," he said; "in the courtyard there is a door on the +left, take it and pass into the next house where are good people who +will not abandon you. I must stay here."</p> + +<p>He then went to the door at which pikes and gun-stocks were beating.</p> + +<p>"Citizens, I am the only person in the house," said he, at an opening +they had broken in one of the panels. "What do you wish?"</p> + +<p>For answer several pikes were thrown in; he stepped back beyond their +reach, calmly fronting the fierce faces.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what you want. I am ready to do your will."</p> + +<p>There was a short period of indecision outside. A muscular man in a +carmagnole swinging a formidable axe pushed forward and the others fell +back at his rough order.</p> + +<p>"I arrest you, citizen Répentigny," said Hache, for it was he. "We mates +of Bec and Caron that you quartered have had it in for you for a long +time. I am a commissioner now, and they call this my domiciliary visit. +If you will come, I will see, on the faith of a brigand, that you get to +prison safely; if not, I will see that you don't. Do you come?"</p> + +<p>Germain calculated the seconds he had been able to save for Mademoiselle +Richeval. They were ample.</p> + +<p>He opened the door and gave himself up.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER LI</a></h3> + +<p class="c">LOVE ENDURETH ALL THINGS</p> + + +<p>Cyrène, when she found herself in darkness, had a confused idea that she +was waking from a dream and lying in her bed at the house in the Rue +Honoré. Under that impression she drew a breath of relief. A curse from +a woman's voice somewhere near by made her realise the truth; the cry of +Dominique, "They have finished me!" and the circumstances of his +disappearance from her side returned vividly, and her heart sickened. +But misery is like a thermometer; after reaching a particular degree it +can fall but slightly lower. The death of Dominique only benumbed her +brain. Her next impression was that this place in which she lay must be +a dungeon, and as her eyes could make out nothing whatever in the +darkness she concluded that the woman she heard must be a prisoner in an +adjoining cell.</p> + +<p>In a short time a stealthy step approached. It stopped, a wooden door +swung back, and a band of greyish light showed a low room of rough beams +without a window. At the door Wife Gougeon peered in, and behind her was +the cheerless perspective of the shop, additionally cheerless in the +grey of early morning.</p> + +<p>"Well, wench, how do you like being a <i>Sans-culotte</i>? You slept too soft +in the Old <i>Régime</i>."</p> + +<p>Cyrène had not noticed how she had been sleeping; she now saw that her +bed was a pile of straw on a box.</p> + +<p>"Get up, you sow, and sweep my floor!" exclaimed the ragman's wife. "Get +up!"</p> + +<p>Cyrène's first instinct was to lie still in tacit disdain. The +recollection of Germain, however, crossed her mind. Rather submit to +anything than exasperate his enemies; so she rose, with an effort. Her +limbs felt heavy.</p> + +<p>"Out now, take this broom, you sot, and sweep the floor."</p> + +<p>Cyrène came out and proceeded to brush aside the dust between the piles +of metal. Wife Gougeon sat back on a block of wood and laughed, in +immense enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"So you were a baroness once, one of the heretofores? Well, I like +baronesses to do my dirty work for me and Montmorencys for my sweeps. +You never thought the people would arrive at this, eh? You thought, you +aristocrats, that you could have the fine houses and we could do all the +scullery work. How do you like it? Oh, I have dirtier work than that +that I will make you do. This is only the commencement. Sweep that board +clean, you pig!"</p> + +<p>The woman fumed at Cyrène's silence.</p> + +<p>"Have you no tongue, animal? Why don't you answer when I speak? I'll +teach you," and, her eyes glittering, she picked up an iron bolt and +threw it at her victim. It struck Cyrène's arm, bruising it severely. +The girl winced, but continued wielding the broom as meekly as before.</p> + +<p>"Ah," went on Wife Gougeon, "do you know what I will do with you? I will +have your head sliced off. What nice necks you 'heretofores' have. I've +seen many a one chopped through."</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, dear citizeness Gougeon," said the Abbé, appearing near +by. "I brought the citizeness to you for protection; I wish to speak to +her apart—say in the chamber there."</p> + +<p>Cyrène looked at him in sorrowful relief.</p> + +<p>"Citizeness," he said, making the greatest effort at ingratiation, "I +have a few things to speak to you. You will excuse us, citizeness +Gougeon?"</p> + +<p>"Republicans do not excuse and excuse like you 'heretofores.' If it were +not for the Galley, I would slice your neck to-morrow too. Go, and be +quick about it, Blacklegs, while I wait to see her sweep for me again."</p> + +<p>Cyrène staggered after him in her weakness into her chamber again, and, +while she sat upon her pallet, he shut the door, took a candle down from +a beam, and lit it.</p> + +<p>"Do not mind her," he said while doing so. "She is a Jacobiness."</p> + +<p>She looked at him as closely as her fevered sight permitted, and saw +that he was shivering with excitement and his long face and downcast +eyes contorting.</p> + +<p>She sat speechless, unable to comprehend him.</p> + +<p>"Madame Baroness," said he, "have you never wondered at your long escape +from the perils of these times? When the mansions of others were burned, +your house has been free from molestation; when their goods were +appropriated by the nation, yours have been left intact; when all +aristocrats have been sent to the guillotine, you have slept in safety. +Have you not thought this strange?"</p> + +<p>The questioning seemed to be lost upon her, except for a nod.</p> + +<p>"Did you never," he went on, "suspect that some power was protecting +you, and ask by whose influence you were thus surrounded and your peace +secured? Did you never recognise a faithfulness which relaxed at no +moment, a care which was unlimited—in a word, a secret friend at the +source of affairs? Madame, I was that friend."</p> + +<p>He stopped and looked at her, his increasing excitement overcoming his +stealth. She was moved, and tears brimmed in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I am grateful, Abbé Jude; let me say it from my heart. You have been +wronged by us. We believed you were different."</p> + +<p>At the tribute his eager look intensified itself into a piercing gaze +which made her feel dread of him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was that secret friend," he cried. "It was I who protected you +at the sections, I struck your name from the lists of proscriptions, I +diverted the marches of the patriots from your portals. Do you think all +this would be done for three years without true faithfulness?"</p> + +<p>"You have indeed proved yourself a loyal friend."</p> + +<p>"More than that," he exclaimed; "it was more than loyalty, it was +worship! Madame, believe me your name has always been to me a sacred +adoration, a passion, an affection beyond expression. Do you doubt it? +Know that I loved you from the first moment I saw you in the house of +the Princess de Poix. I loved you, I adored you secretly, I sought for a +favourable time to declare my passion."</p> + +<p>Her eyes opened wide as she listened, and she would have given worlds to +escape, yet her feeling was mainly of pity.</p> + +<p>"This is very unfortunate. Calm yourself, Abbé. I will ever have a +lively feeling of gratefulness for your devotion. Think of me on those +terms."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Madame, those were the only terms which might have been possible in +former days; but they do not belong to the new <i>régime</i>. We are all +equal now. Nothing will satisfy me short of possessing you entirely."</p> + +<p>"Abbé, you are excited."</p> + +<p>"No, citizeness, I have long been determined you shall be my mate." She +shrank from the word and the uncanny passion of his gaze.</p> + +<p>"When you will have reflected a few hours you will see that this is +impossible."</p> + +<p>"What! impossible? And why impossible? Ah, yes, I know, it is because of +your pretty-faced lover Répentigny. I know all about that. I could have +crushed him between my fingers; and I will crush him yet. What!—that +man between myself and you! Why, then, did I bring you here? Was it to +allow his interference with my object? After all I have done for you, am +I to be met with answers of this sort?"</p> + +<p>"I appreciate entirely your services, Abbé; they are too great to be +underrated."</p> + +<p>"They shall be more, citizeness. In these days it is <i>my</i> turn to +dictate."</p> + +<p>"Am I to understand that this has been your aim all along?"</p> + +<p>He hesitated, but replied boldly, "It has, and were it not for that, I +might long ago have pointed out both you and your doll-head lover to the +Committee of Public Safety."</p> + +<p>"Then your whole service has been abstention from positive treachery for +your own ends?"</p> + +<p>"You dare me? Caution, citizeness! You are in my power."</p> + +<p>"In your power? You are a coward as well as a knave, then?"</p> + +<p>"Remember still more," he hissed, losing all control of himself, "that +your lover also is in my power; he is captured."</p> + +<p>"My God! you have brought us to this!" she cried.</p> + +<p>The door creaked and the Admiral entered.</p> + +<p>"Be off, you cur!" said he, standing sternly over the Abbé, who shrank +as if struck. "Go to your work, you——"</p> + +<p>A look of terror upon his countenance, Jude precipitated himself through +the doorway.</p> + +<p>The Admiral closed it, and returning, sat down by the candle and began +to talk to Cyrène. Seeing his features so close and large and +accentuated by the candle-light, their coarseness and horror filled her +with wonder.</p> + +<p>"So that fellow boasts of his fidelity!" he exclaimed, in a repulsively +modulated and familiar tone. "What a wealth of tenderness such a +kidnapping shows! Possibly you knew his profession, citizeness?—that of +salaried spy. Your protector he claims to be? Excellent—when he could +not turn a straw in your favour. He has deprived you of your freedom; +that was easier in these times. I, on the other hand," he added, smiling +yet more hideously, "am here to return it to you."</p> + +<p>"I thank you," she replied wearily, without hope.</p> + +<p>"I shall reveal to you the true reason of your immunity for so long from +the wrath of the people. It was because of Répentigny, not of yourself. +I arranged it, and you were then unknown to me. Through him Bec and +Caron, two friends of the people, had died six years ago, in the days of +the tyrant. It was I, as avenger, not the worm Jude as lover, who +watched over your household in the Rue Honoré, reserving Répentigny for +prolonged punishment. It was I whose power surrounded you as it has +surrounded all Paris." He paused proudly.</p> + +<p>"Citizeness, last night I saw you for the first time. Your wonderful +courage, your astonishing beauty, overcame the most martial of hearts."</p> + +<p>She started and shivered violently. Was she to endure two proposals +within the hour, from such revolting creatures, and at what violence +would their outrages end?</p> + +<p>"Come," he said, offering to embrace her. She started back in terror.</p> + +<p>"Do not tremble," he went on patronisingly; "you have nothing to fear +from me, everything to expect. I am able to give you whatever you +ask—mansions, carriages, jewels, pleasures, unlimited wealth, unlimited +power. These are in my hands. I rule Paris—yes, France—and shall rule +Europe. You shall sit by my side, and the whole world shall serve you. +They shall fear or love you as you will, but I am able to see that they +obey you or sink under my hand. Do not fear the squalor of these brutes +whom I govern; you shall see nothing of them, for we shall sit upon the +heights of the Revolution. Around us Paris shall always be gay and +fascinating. Tell me your slightest wish, citizeness; it shall be +yours."</p> + +<p>"You will grant me a wish?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Assuredly," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Take me, then," said she, "to him you call Répentigny."</p> + +<p>"Répentigny or Lecour?" he said, pointing to the name. "Citizeness, he +is unworthy of you—totally unworthy."</p> + +<p>"Maligner!"</p> + +<p>"Keep your coolness, Madame; the man has long deceived you. The story +that he is a plebeian is true. I can prove it."</p> + +<p>"I asked you nothing of that sort; take me—only take me to him. Keep +your promise."</p> + +<p>"Very well, citizeness, there is but one condition. He is in the +Conciergerie—in going to him you must, like him, be committed to be +condemned."</p> + +<p>"Gladly! gladly! Take me to him—take me to him—for the love of +heaven."</p> + +<p>"I love not heaven very much, citizeness, but, curse you, you seem fool +enough to be granted what you ask. Look out of this door."</p> + +<p>Obeying, she saw that a crowd of <i>Sans-culottes</i> had filled the shop.</p> + +<p>Carmagnoled and sabred, they lounged in slothful consultation and +obscured the air with bad tobacco-smoke. On the Admiral opening the +door, they rose in a disorderly way and made him a sort of salute.</p> + +<p>"Arrest her," he ordered, beckoning the two foremost and waving his +skinny hand back to Cyrène. They came forward and grasped her arms.</p> + +<p>"To the Conciergerie!" he said, "and each of you answers for her with +your head."</p> + +<p>As terrified as she, the two guards tied her hands and marched her off +through the Street of the Hanged Man.</p> + +<p>In times of great misery strange things bring us happiness; the thought +of her condemnation to death lifted her like an aerial tide, because +being with Germain went with it.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_LII" id="CHAPTER_LII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER LII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">THE SUPREME EXACTITUDE</p> + + +<p>Whoever passed within the walls of the Conciergerie was counted lost. Of +the prisons of the Revolution, it was that to which the accused were +transferred from the others on the eve of sentence; and underneath it +was the hall of the pretended court infamous to all time as "the +Tribunal of Blood." The <i>fiacre</i> containing Germain and the National +Guards in whose charge Hache placed him, was followed by the mob to the +doors, and at times it appeared as if he would certainly be torn away +and hanged to a lantern rope. In front of the Conciergerie, whose portal +was lit luridly by two torches, a delighted audience of <i>Sans-culottes</i> +received his approach with clapping.</p> + +<p>"Another!" they shouted.</p> + +<p>And, as an arrest was brought in from the opposite direction just +afterwards, they clapped again and repeated their shout of "Another!"</p> + +<p>His guards dragged him into the presence of the concierge, who eyed him +from his arm-chair with a drunken glance.</p> + +<p>"Dungeon," he muttered.</p> + +<p>With a banging of bolts and a creaking of doors, two turnkeys led Lecour +down into a region of darkness. The turnkeys, like their chief, were +surly sots. They took him along a low passage where mastiffs which +patrolled it eyed him, threw back a cell door, thrust him in, and +disappeared with their lanterns.</p> + +<p>Shut in by low, dark walls, and a roof and floor of stone, reeking with +damp and filth, the cell, though but twenty feet by ten or twelve, was +already the habitation of at least a score of persons.</p> + +<p>Their features could not be easily discerned, since the only light in +the obscurity was that of a single candle.</p> + +<p>"Comrade, the floor is soft," exclaimed one of the group nearest him—a +man of one eye lying on a pile of straw. "Let me present you to our +<i>confrère</i>, the parricide."</p> + +<p>"Shut your gob, thief," shouted a voice, and a heavy scuffle ensued.</p> + +<p>Germain leaned against the wall to recover his nerves.</p> + +<p>The other inmates had been holding a mock revolutionary trial and +condemning one of their number to execution. Some acted the part of +judges, some of jury-men, two of guards.</p> + +<p>The man on trial turned indignantly on the criminals who had first +accosted Lecour.</p> + +<p>"I pray you, Monsieur," said he courteously to the latter, "Do not take +that for your reception here. Those men are the disgrace of the cell. +The rest of us have been used to a happier condition. Let us introduce +ourselves. I am the Baron de Grancey; my friend, the judge president, is +the Count de Bellecour."</p> + +<p>Germain's surprise would have been great had he been less in misery. As +it was he was surprised at nothing. Here it was but another stab in his +heart. Unable to answer he sat down on a stone bench.</p> + +<p>"Friends, we must change the diversion," Grancey said sympathetically. +"Perhaps our comrade might feel better over a hand at picquet."</p> + +<p>"Ten straws a point!" exclaimed Bellecour. "Dame, it seems to me I know +his face. Where have I met you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"De Lincy, <i>pardieu</i>!" Grancey echoed, scrutinising the new-comer's +features. "Friend Germain, this is a sorry place to welcome you, but you +will find it brighter than you think; there are wit, forgetfulness, +society, and some happiness, even in the Conciergerie. Wait until you +get up to the corridor to-morrow; you will meet enough of your friends +to hold a respectable reception."</p> + +<p>Still Germain could not answer. They did not realise his sorrow and +embarrassment in the presence of the old friends to whose friendship he +felt he had no right. His head remained bent. Of a sudden the candle +flickered out and relieved him of the need of speaking. They withdrew +wondering to their pile of straw.</p> + +<p>He did not move from the bench where he sat. Soon, except for the heavy +breathing of his companions, silence enveloped the place. He became +absorbed in anxious imaginings.</p> + +<p>What had happened when Cyrène and Dominique returned to the house? What +accidents overtook them at the Hôtel de Ville? Where was she? What were +her thoughts at that moment? And what her sufferings? Then a picture +flitted across his consciousness of the early days of their meeting, the +life at Fontainebleau, the charm of old Versailles. At the memory of +that taste of a beautiful existence, an unearthly, sorrowful, prophetic +longing came over him, not for himself but for others, for a clime where +falsity, grief, change, and pride should be winnowed completely away +from loveliness. He dreamt a world to come wherein the poor, the +low-born, the deformed, yes, the debased children of crime itself should +become of strong and perfect forms, of sensitive and rich artistic +sense, wealthy as imagination in castles, parks, and solitudes, pure +and keen of honour, spiritually sweet of thought, and so live serene for +ever, for ever, for ever.</p> + +<p>As morning grew, a dim light became perceptible from the corridor, and +the prisoners one by one awoke. But Lecour was so weary that he fell +asleep on the bench.</p> + +<p>His shoulder was roughly shaken. "Stand up," said a turnkey. Germain +opened his eyes and staggered to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Salute the President of the Commune, you——" Before him was a short +man in carmagnole and sabre, whom the other prisoners eyed with +resentment and alarm.</p> + +<p>Lecour bowed.</p> + +<p>"You have met me before," the stranger said mockingly. "Once in the +Royal hunting grounds of Fontainebleau. It was accidental. Perhaps I +should not presume on the acquaintance."</p> + +<p>Lecour perfectly recalled the visitor to the cave. That face once seen +could never be forgotten, and he was overcome by the ominousness of the +meeting. However, he recovered enough to answer sternly—</p> + +<p>"Take your revenge; my neck is in your power."</p> + +<p>"Judgment must be pronounced on you first. Listen to your judgment, +Sieur de Lincy, or Répentigny. Inasmuch as, years ago, you hunted brave +men who through you were condemned to death, which they suffered on the +wheel; inasmuch as you wickedly murdered the starving peasants of the +parishes of Eaux Tranquilles while in the pursuit of liberty; inasmuch +as you resisted the sovereign people and sided with the cut-throats of +Versailles, when you participated in the crimes of the Bodyguard; +inasmuch as you have been of the party of conspirators against the +Revolution, and have plotted with the tyrant Capet and his widow for the +Counter-revolution; inasmuch as you are a suspect, inasmuch as you are +an <i>emigré</i>; inasmuch as you are a rich and an aristocrat; inasmuch as +you, Germain Lecour, son of François Xavier Lecour, peasant of Canada, +and grandson of a butcher of Paris, did thus oppress the people without +the excuse of hereditary illusion, but were a cheat and adventurer +sprung from their own bosom; inasmuch as in order to do so you have +broken many laws of the land and natural rights of mankind, have +outraged the sacred names of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity, and have +brought, especially upon yourself, the retribution of that Order of the +Galley-on-Land, part of which was assembled before you in the cave of +Fontainebleau; know now then, for the first time, that through all these +dealings you have been tracked by them in your every movement; that your +misdeeds were collected, not forgotten; that our vengeance was on your +path and waited but the time that suited us; that to hundreds unknown to +you it will be a day of feasting to see you die; that they will drink +wine for your blood and eat bread for your flesh, and when your head +drops into the basket, they will regret the days of tyranny for this +only—that the humanity of these times does not allow of breaking you in +turn on the wheel."</p> + +<p>"You are frank," returned Germain bitterly.</p> + +<p>The Admiral was taken aback. He had counted on more effect for his +harangue.</p> + +<p>"I have one more '<i>inasmuch</i>,'" said he, with a sting in his tone and a +gleam in his eye. "Inasmuch as by your imposture you deceived and misled +a heart too pure and lofty for such as you to have dared towards——"</p> + +<p>This shaft was aimed to strike deep, and so it did. Germain's defiant +bearing fell, he dropped his head and groaned.</p> + +<p>"Strike him!" roared Grancey. "You must die anyway. Strike, in default +of a sword to run him through!"</p> + +<p>"He dares not!" the Admiral exclaimed to the group of aristocrats. "You +take him for one of yourselves. You are his dupes like the others."</p> + +<p>"You admit this <i>inasmuch</i>?" he inquired triumphantly of Lecour.</p> + +<p>"It is true, true, true," moaned Germain. "I may not deny it—the +greatest crime of all my crimes."</p> + +<p>The Admiral turned with a snort to Lecour's former companions. They were +aghast.</p> + +<p>"Had he denied it here are the proofs, absolutely beyond question!" the +Admiral exclaimed, waving the Record, which he held in his hand.</p> + +<p>"By the saints! what a conclusion," Bellecour exclaimed, curling his +lip. As for Grancey he slowly turned his back, threw himself down on the +straw on his face, and did not move. The Admiral again faced Germain.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you something?"</p> + +<p>Lecour's heart leaped. His eyes bespoke his suspense. Everything this +man had to say seemed of such import that what went before faded for the +moment.</p> + +<p>"She is here."</p> + +<p>"Here? Merciful God! alas, alas, poor Cyrène!"</p> + +<p>The Admiral allowed him some moments. Ultimately he said, eyeing him +keenly—</p> + +<p>"You love her—would you like to save her?"</p> + +<p>"Is there a hope?" Lecour said hoarsely, looking up with bloodshot eyes.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you will do what I demand."</p> + +<p>"Anything God will permit."</p> + +<p>"The condition is this. That you make her with your own lips, in my +presence, a confession of your imposture, of which, remember, I besides +hold the proofs. Otherwise she dies to-morrow. Are you willing?" And the +Admiral bent eagerly towards him with eyes full of flaming lights.</p> + +<p>Lecour's heart stopped. His head flushed to bursting, the shame of years +overcame him. His assent was expressed by more a groan than a word. The +frightful thought was that she would repulse him for ever.</p> + +<p>Yes, that too must be faced and done with—bitterness of bitterness. The +old dream so marvellously won by deception must be shattered in every +point. The Eternal Justice said to him: "<span class="smcap">No man who has profited by a +wrong shall keep its fruits.</span>" Ah, what fruit of fruits, her love!</p> + +<p>"It will finish him with her," the Admiral muttered, watching him. But +Lecour did not hear. The <i>Sans-culotte</i> President rapped on the iron +door with his boot, a turnkey replied, and in a few minutes four of +these men appeared with Cyrène. As soon as she saw Germain she clasped +her hands to her bosom and uttered a strange cry, a cry full of wild +gladness and fierce agony, such as a soul writhing in the flames of +purgatory might give at a sudden opening of the gates of both heaven and +hell, and she sprang forward to press him to her breast.</p> + +<p>Not such was the will of the Admiral. As quick as she, he interposed +himself, and standing in front of Germain grasped her arm and said to +her firmly—</p> + +<p>"This fellow has something to say to you first."</p> + +<p>Then, turning to Lecour, who stood with head down and feelings worse +than those of his condemnation to death—</p> + +<p>"Speak, butcher's grandson!"</p> + +<p>He withdrew a step to allow Germain to face Cyrène.</p> + +<p>The condemned man fell upon his knees and broke into sobs.</p> + +<p>"Speak, housekeeper's son!" the Admiral cried exultantly.</p> + +<p>"You are a devil!" screamed Cyrène to him, and bent down her arms to +Germain.</p> + +<p>To her bitter surprise the latter shrank back, and seizing her hand +covered it with kisses instead.</p> + +<p>"No," he sobbed, "no, Madame Baroness; it is all true—I am not your +equal. I am baseborn, an impostor, an adventurer, the son of the peasant +and the servant, the grandson of the butcher. I am no de Lincy nor +Répentigny. My titles were false, my credit stolen, my position came to +me by accident, and my defence was one long falsehood. De Léry was +right. In him I wronged a man of honour, and my retribution is the +judgment of God. Forgive me all the awful wrong I have done you. Forgive +me as a creature whose only excuse has been an irresistible worship of +even your footsteps."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" the Admiral cried. "Citizeness, ponder your treatment by this +varlet, who has deceived you, besmirched your life, and contaminated +your hand. Another career is yours; leave him to his punishment."</p> + +<p>The words of the two men reached her, but their meaning was not +credible. Her lover—her Germain, her knight—a deceiver, an impostor? +She could not realise it. Then the truth of the scene rushed over her; +its logic became inescapable.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she wailed in one long, agonised moan, sobbing and writhing in the +intensity of her torture, "how can I bear this?"</p> + +<p>"Come," said the Admiral, but she was oblivious to all except the storm +of her distress.</p> + +<p>"Come," repeated the Admiral, but she heard not.</p> + +<p>"Come," repeated he once more impatiently; but her tear-filled eyes were +fixed upon Germain. The horror of his falsity was strong within her, but +his chivalry and tenderness throughout their long association could not +be so quickly forgotten, nor the bonds of her affection so instantly +blotted out. The mystery of his long sorrow dawned upon her, and his +utter self-accusation appealed to her pity. Their differences of rank +became as nothing.</p> + +<p>"Come away," said the Admiral again, with soft-uttered persuasiveness.</p> + +<p>Cyrène's nature, in those moments, had felt, thought, concluded with +lightning swiftness. Her soul swept through a great arc of intuition.</p> + +<p>"No, no, there is something I do not understand!" she cried. "My +Germain, God has made you for me. You loved me and were led astray, but +you are honourable and faithful in the sight of heaven, my eternal love. +Let us kiss each other. Let us press each other to our breasts and die; +in a few hours we shall be together for ever."</p> + +<p>Before the Admiral could prevent it they were clasped in a passionate, +feverish, last embrace.</p> + +<p>"Very well," the Admiral sneered frigidly. "I keep my promises. +Apothecary's apprentice, to-day you die. As for you, citizeness, I give +you your freedom."</p> + +<p>"I reject it—I will die with him," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," he returned. "I promised him your liberty. I keep my +promises."</p> + +<p>"Wretch! you would separate the betrothed from the dying?"</p> + +<p>"Go, beloved," said Germain, releasing her. "It is just that I should +die, but not you. I shall love you in the grave. Remember not my +errors."</p> + +<p>"No, I will never leave you, Germain. Oh, Germain, I will die with +you."</p> + +<p>"Take the woman off!" growled the Admiral to the turnkeys. They obeyed +him instantly.</p> + +<p>Germain rushed after them to the door of the cell, but it was closed +upon him, and he caught only a shadow through the grating and heard her +last cry of grief.</p> + + + +<h3 class="m"><a name="CHAPTER_LIII" id="CHAPTER_LIII"></a><a href="#toc">CHAPTER LIII</a></h3> + +<p class="c">RETRIBUTION ACCOMPLISHED</p> + + +<p>When Cyrène was pushed out of the outer portal of the prison she was met +by her good friend the patriot Hugues la Tour.</p> + +<p>"Do not despair," said he. "My influence is great; he shall yet be +saved."</p> + +<p>"Oh, for the love of God, try, citizen," she sobbed. Supporting her he +signed for a <i>fiacre</i> and drove her to his room not far away, where he +left her with the housekeeper, and bidding her trust in him, flew back +and obtained an interview with Lecour in his cell. He explained the +object of his visit and the history of his connection with Cyrène.</p> + +<p>"And now I am come to return her life for life," he ended.</p> + +<p>"But mine is not worth it," Germain answered soberly. "Save hers. How +can you risk yourself for me? I was once the cause of your +condemnation."</p> + +<p>"What matters that. It was but what was believed right at the time. In +our glorious Revolution we do not think of revenge; we only seek to +strike at the enemies of human rights. You are not really an aristocrat. +Plead that before the judges: your liberty will not be hard for me to +obtain."</p> + +<p>"Noble-hearted man——"</p> + +<p>"Take care—the word 'noble' is forbidden."</p> + +<p>"You are generous, citizen. My conscience tells me it would be base to +do as you urge. After plucking life's blossoms as an aristocrat I must +grasp the thorns."</p> + +<p>Nothing could save him from his determination. He had lived as an +aristocrat—it was incumbent on him, he said, not to shirk death as one.</p> + +<p>At last la Tour left him and sought for the Admiral. He could not find +the latter until about two o'clock, and then at the prison. The +concierge said he was in the courtyard and la Tour found him engaged in +a singular business.</p> + +<p>The women's courtyard was separated by an iron railing some fifteen feet +long from the men's. Here the imprisoned ladies communicated with their +male friends as gaily as if each were not foredoomed. The Faubourg St. +Germain was transferred to the Conciergerie. The toilets were the +freshest and the manners most well-bred in Paris. The guillotine was the +subject of facetious remarks up to the very hour of parting for the +mockery of the trial below, and at evening vows of love were breathed +between the bars. La Tour found a crowd on both sides enjoying the +cramped promenade. Amid this crowd was a "sheep"—one of those vile +spies who acted the part of pretending to be a fellow-prisoner of the +rest in order that he might entrap them into unguarded expressions and +denounce them.</p> + +<p>The <i>Sans-culottes</i> commissioners were selecting their daily list of +victims at random. In doing so they seized the "sheep." The Admiral was +present and the "sheep" appealed to him, protesting his occupation. The +Admiral only laughed at him.</p> + +<p>"Correct," said he to the guard, chuckling, and the guard needed no +more. They began to drag the "sheep" away.</p> + +<p>The "sheep" was Jude.</p> + +<p>"I am yours—you promised me my life," he desperately screamed back. The +Admiral smiled contemptuously; his eyes were very bright and hard.</p> + +<p>"I promised that Répentigny should die first; you afterwards; I grant +you the privilege of going second." The <i>Sans-culottes</i>, their noisy +laughs resounding through the corridor and echoed by the baying of the +mastiffs, dragged the spy away.</p> + +<p>La Tour could not move the Admiral to any leniency for Germain. The +bandit followed each of his prayers by a sinister silence. At length la +Tour was compelled by lack of time to give him up and speed to the +revolutionary tribunal itself, in session underneath. He was just in +time to make his appeal, for Lecour was already brought before the jury +and the five judges.</p> + +<p>The strenuous efforts of Hugues were nullified by the persistent refusal +of the Canadian to take advantage of the device proposed to him, by his +would-be preserver—of declaring himself a non-aristocrat. La Tour +vehemently urged him at least to cry—"<i>Vive la Republique!</i>" At that +Lecour seemed to conceive an idea, and stepping forward cried instead in +a voice of decision—</p> + +<p>"Long live the King!"</p> + +<p>His sentence was signed immediately.</p> + +<p>Sanson's death-carts rolled into the courtyard. The hour for the daily +public show had arrived. The rest of the prisoners on trial were +peremptorily shoved through the mill of condemnation and all were +hustled up to the toilette of the executioner. Hands tied, hair cut, +feet bared, half a dozen were pushed up into each cart, seated three on +a side, and the carts set out. Seven in the line, the roughest, rudest +vehicles in the town, they jerked over the uneven cobbles, rumbled +across the Pont-Neuf, and crept along the Rue de la Monnaie and then +along the Rue Honoré, regardless, both they, their carters, their +executioner's men, and their Dragoon escorts, of the agony they +freighted. The streets themselves wore unfeeling faces. The merchants +had closed their shutters and across the façades of many houses were +large inscriptions such as, "<span class="smcap">The Republic One and Indivisible</span>," +"<span class="smcap">Liberty, Equality, Fraternity</span>, <i>or Death</i>." And the sun poured down its +untempered rays on the condemned. But more pitiless than carts or +streets or sun were the coarse Jacobins who ran alongside.</p> + +<p>With what fine wit they shouted—</p> + +<p>"Long live the razor of the Republic!"</p> + +<p>A newsvendor began to sing, and was joined in chorus—</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"Doctor Guillotin,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">That great <i>médécin</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Love of human kind</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">Preoccupies his mind."</span><br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<p>As to the company of the lost in the carts, they consisted of a strange +variety. In the first, the principal persons were a majestic woman and +her two daughters, sitting erect, with hands tied, costumed freshly and +invested still with the old carefulness of manner; but the eyes of the +youngest were staring with horror. There was a large dog in the same +cart, condemned for carrying despatches. In the next a National +Assembly-man, betrayed by Robespierre, tore his hair and raved on his +fate. Opposite him two poor sewing-women, falsely accused by a +neighbour, sat helplessly, their eyes shut, their lips incessantly +repeating prayers; by their side, a boy of eight, with bright, fair +features, sobbing, his little hands tied, as the executioner's man +showed the crowd with a laugh. His crime was that his father had been a +Count. Third came the cart containing Germain, to whom all eyes were +directed. On the seat opposite him was Jude, frantically entreating the +saints, the driver, the guards, and the crowd to take pity on his soul.</p> + +<p>"Buy the bulletin of the revolutionary tribunal; judgements of to-day! +The horrible aristocrat Répentigny brought to justice! Here he is! here +is the one who defied the jury!"</p> + +<p>"Bodyguard of Capet!"</p> + +<p>"Here is the one who killed Bec and Caron!" shrilled Wife Gougeon.</p> + +<p>"Long live the Galley-on-Land!"</p> + +<p>These cries gradually roused Lecour, and for the first time, putting it +all together and recognising faces, he realised the truth of the +Admiral's boast that he had been pursued all these years by the crew +about him—the organisation of the cave of Fontainebleau. The long-lit +hatred of so many eyes stabbed his heart to the quick. Yet of the inward +Passion of his journey there was no outward appearance. He sat quiet of +visage, clinging to the one underlying thought that he had been able to +free Cyrène. Alas! how long even yet could it be before she would be +riding the same ride?</p> + +<p>Suddenly Abbé Jude in front of him lost his frantic gestures and sobbed +violently. Germain put aside his own concerns, and bending over +whispered gently, "Courage, my brother, for a little."</p> + +<p>"Admit even now that you are not an aristocrat," cried Hughes from +beside the cart, "and I will move heaven and earth to reprieve you."</p> + +<p>But Germain went steadily forward.</p> + +<p>The Place de la Révolution, now completely transformed into the Place de +la Concorde, that ornament of Paris, was then unpaved and unfinished. In +the middle stood a plaster statue of Liberty and near it the gaunt +machine of fear—a plank platform reached by a narrow stair having a +single handrail, and, pointing out of it towards the sky a pair of tall +beams between which, on touching a spring, the knife fell on the neck of +the condemned.</p> + +<p>From early morning Cyrène had been waiting, racked with fear, at the +house of la Tour on one of the small streets not far from the Place. At +the sound of the shouts which showed that an execution had begun, she +flew there and by despairing force crushed her way through thousands of +spectators, towards the guillotine, on whose platform figures could +already be seen appearing and falling one by one. She moaned and gasped +at each fresh obstacle to her frantic efforts. Her lips were white, her +eyes staring.</p> + +<p>The patriotesses, who sat knitting on the stand erected near the machine +for their daily delectation, agreed that she was an excellent diversion.</p> + +<p>All at once her difficulty in pushing forward ceased and the brutes +around her made way.</p> + +<p>"Give her a good place," she heard one cry, and many hands impelled her +to the foot of the guillotine. Bloated faces, wicked jests, fists +grasping pipes and bottles, a tumult of the coarse and passionate, +swayed, about her, organised under one being, the Admiral, jeering in +his low power. Never had his head, his face, shown more completely their +resemblance to a skull.</p> + +<p>As he stretched up his arm with a gesture of ferocious, gleeful malice, +the wretches around the scaffold, as one man, broke into intoxicated +laughter, joined hands and swayed in and out in the popular dance—</p> + +<p><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 20%;">"Hurrah for the sound</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 23%;">Of the cannon."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Meanwhile two of his henchmen held Cyrène before him.</p> + +<p>"Look!" he cried to her. "See!" and pointed up to the guillotine. Her +eyes involuntarily followed.</p> + +<p>She saw the flash of the descending blade. Wild and speechless, she hung +petrified on the arms of the two men holding her. But now she was +oblivious of everything except that another head, another form, far +above all else to her, was on the platform. His face was pallid, his +bearing sweet, solemn, and brave.</p> + +<p>"Death to the aristocrat!" shouted the excited mob. His lips moved with +a brief appearance of words. Had she been closer she would have beard +him say quietly: "It is just."</p> + +<p>The executioner Sanson turned from the last victim and seized him. At +the very instant he felt the grasp he caught sight of the face of his +beloved, held there in the grasp of the two Jacobins. This was the +crowning agony. The immensity of his retribution swept over him in an +overwhelming flood.</p> + +<p>"Oh God, does Justice require this too?" he cried.</p> + +<p>Sanson's sinewy assistants thrust him against an upright plank. In the +last remnants of her congested, distorted vision, Cyrène saw the bright +knife fall like a lightning vengeance.</p> + +<p>At night in the Cemetery of the Madeleine near by la Tour, searching +anxiously with a lantern, found her lying across the common trench into +which the bodies and heads of the executed were indiscriminately thrown +and hastily covered. There, her arms stretched across as if to embrace +as much of it as she could, her wonderful golden majesty of hair strewn +upon them, her white complexion still dazzling in its purity, her blue +eyes half closed, lay the <i>fiancée</i> of the false Répentigny. Her soul +had flown to be blent with that of him who had suffered his punishment, +in the bosom of God, the place of social justice, where all ambition +and all forgiveness melt satisfied and surpassed in Love Divine.</p> + +<p class="d"> * * * * * </p> + +<p>A wave of the Revolution swept out to India. In Mahé, under the eyes of +the new Golden Dog, Philibert killed the Marquis de Répentigny.</p> + +<p class="smcap c n">the end.</p> + +<p class="smcap c n">UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes m"><p class="n">FOOTNOTE:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Spies.</p></div> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The False Chevalier, by William Douw Lighthall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALSE CHEVALIER *** + +***** This file should be named 22779-h.htm or 22779-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/7/22779/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by the +Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions +www.canadiana.org) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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