Books: The Reign Of Terror
G >>
G. A. Henty >> The Reign Of Terror
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 | 12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20
The man spoke in a thin hard voice, which inspired Harry, he knew
not why, with a feeling of repulsion; he had certainly heard it
before. He offered him his arm and walked with him to his door.
"Come up, I beg you," the stranger said.
He ascended to the second floor and rang at the bell. A woman with
a light opened it.
"Why, my brother," she exclaimed on seeing his face, "you are ill!
Has anything happened?"
"I have been attacked in the street," he said, "but I am not hurt,
though, had it not been for this citizen it would have gone hardly
with me. You have to thank him for saving your brother's life."
They had entered a sitting-room now. It was plainly but very neatly
furnished. There were some birds in cages, which, late though the
hour was, hopped on their perches and twittered when they heard
the master's voice, and he responded with two or three words of
greeting to them.
"Set the supper," he said to his sister; "the citizen will take a
meal with us. You know who I am, I suppose?" he said to Harry.
"No," Harry replied. "I have a recollection of your face and voice,
but I cannot recall where I have met you."
"I am Robespierre," he said.
Harry gave a start of surprise. This man whom he had saved was he
whom he had so often execrated - one of the leaders of those who
had deluged France with blood - the man who, next only to Marat
was hated and feared by the Royalists of France. His first feeling
was one of loathing and hatred, but at the same moment there flashed
through his mind the thought that chance had favoured him beyond
his hopes, and that the comedy which he had planned with Victor
to carry out upon the person of Marat had come to pass without
premeditation, but with Robespierre as the chief actor.
But so surprised and so delighted was he that for a minute he sat
unable to say a word. Robespierre was gratified at the effect which
his name had produced. His was a strangely-mixed character - at
once timid and bold, shrinking from personal danger, yet ready to
urge the extremest measures. Simple in his tastes, and yet very vain
and greedy of applause. Domestic and affectionate in his private
character, but ready to shed a river of blood in his public capacity.
Pure in morals; passionless in his resolves; incorruptible and
inflexible; the more dangerous because he had neither passion nor
hate; because he had not. like Danton and Marat, a lust for blood,
but because human life to him was as nothing, because had he
considered it necessary that half France should die for the benefit
of the other half he would have signed their death-warrant without
emotion or hesitation.
"You are surprised, young man," he said, "but the ways of fate are
inscrutable. The interposition of a youth has thwarted the schemes
of the enemies of France. Had you been but ten seconds later I should
have ceased to be, and one of the humble instruments by which fate
is working for the regeneration of the people would have perished."
While Robespierre was speaking Harry had rapidly thought over the
role which it would be best for him to adopt. Should he avow his
real character and ask for an order for the liberation of Marie as
a recompense for the service he had rendered Robespierre, or should
he retain his present character and obtain Robespierre's confidence?
There was danger in an open appeal, for, above all things, Robespierre
prided himself upon his incorruptibility, and he might consider
that to free a prisoner for service rendered to himself would be
a breach of his duty to France. He resolved, therefore, to keep
silence at present, reserving an appeal to Robespierre's gratitude
for the last extremity.
"Pardon me, monsieur," he said, after he had rapidly arrived at
this conclusion; "my emotion was naturally great at finding that
I had unwittingly been the means of saving the life of one on whom
the eyes of France are fixed. I rejoice indeed that I should have
been the means of preserving such a life."
This statement was strictly true, although not perhaps in the sense
in which Robespierre regarded it.
"We will talk more after supper," he said. "My sister is, I see,
ready with it. Indeed it is long past our usual hour, and we were
just sitting down when I was called out by what purported to be an
important message from the Club."
CHAPTER X Free
Robespierre chatted continuously as the meal went on, and Harry
asked himself in astonishment whether he was in a dream, and if
this man before him, talking about his birds, his flowers, and his
life before he came to Paris, could really be the dreaded Robespierre.
After the meal was over his host said:
"As yet I am ignorant of the name of my preserver."
"My name is Henry Sandwith," Harry replied.
"It is not a French name," Robespierre said in surprise.
"I am of English parentage," Harry said quietly, "but have been
resident for some years in France. I was for some time in the service
of the ci-devant Marquis de St. Caux; but since the break-up of his
household I have been shifting for myself as best I could, living
chiefly on the moneys I had earned in his service, and on the
look-out for any employment that may offer."
"England is our enemy," Robespierre said, raising his voice angrily;
"the enemy of free institutions and liberty."
"I know nothing about English politics," Harry replied with a smile;
"nor indeed about any politics. I am but little past eighteen, and
so that I can earn my living I do not ask whether my employer is a
patriot or an aristocrat. It is quite trouble enough to earn one's
living without bothering one's head about politics. If you can put
me in the way of doing so I shall consider that I am well repaid
for the little service I rendered you."
"Assuredly I will do so," Robespierre said. "I am a poor man, you
know. I do not put my hand into the public purse, and I and my
sister live as frugally as we did when we first came to Paris from
Arras. My only gains have been the hatred of the aristocrats and
the love of the people. But though I have not money, I have influence,
and I promise to use it on your behalf. Until I hear of something
suitable you can, if you will, work here with me, and share what
I possess. My correspondence is very heavy. I am overwhelmed with
letters from the provinces begging me to inquire into grievances
and redress wrongs. Can you read and write well?" For from Harry's
words he supposed that he had held some menial post in the household
of the Marquis de St. Caux.
"Yes, I can read and write fairly," Harry said.
"And are you acquainted with the English tongue?"
"I know enough of it to read it," Harry said. "I spoke it when I
was a child."
"If you can read it that will do," Robespierre said. "There are
English papers sent over, and I should like to hear for myself
what this perfidious people say of us, and there are few here who
can translate the language. Do you accept my proposal?"
"Willingly," Harry said.
"Very well, then, come here at nine o'clock in the morning. But
mind you are only filling the post of my secretary until I can find
something better for you to do."
"The post will be a better one some day, Monsieur Robespierre.
Ere long you will be the greatest man in France, and the post of
secretary will be one which may well be envied."
"Ah, I see you know how to flatter," Robespierre said with a smile,
much gratified nevertheless with Harry's words. "You must remember
that I crave no dignities, that I care only for the welfare of
France."
"I know, monsieur, that you are called 'Robespierre the Incorruptible,"'
Harry said; "but, nevertheless, you belong to France, and France
will assuredly see that some day you have such a reward as you
richly merit."
"There was no untruth in that," Harry said to himself as he made
his way down stairs. "These human tigers will meet their doom when
France comes to her senses. He is a strange contrast, this man;
but I suppose that even the tiger is a domestic animal in his own
family. His food almost choked me, and had I not known that Marie's
fate depends upon my calmness, I should assuredly have broken out
and told this dapper little demagogue my opinion of him. But this
is glorious! What news I shall have to give the girls in the morning!
If I cannot ensure Marie's freedom now I should be a bungler
indeed. Had I had the planning of the events of this evening they
could not have turned out better for us."
It was the first time that Harry had called at Louise Moulin's as
early as eight o'clock in the morning, and Jeanne leaped up as he
entered.
"What is it, Harry? You bring us some news, don't you?"
"I do indeed, Jeanne; capital news. Whom do you think I had supper
with last night?"
"Had supper with, Harry!" Jeanne repeated. "What do you mean? How
can I guess whom you had supper with?"
"I am sure you cannot guess, Jeanne, so I will not puzzle your
brain. I had supper with Robespierre."
"With Robespierre!" the two girls repeated in astonishment. "You
are not joking, Harry?" Jeanne went on. "But no, you cannot be
doing that; tell us how you came to have supper with Robespierre."
"My dear Jeanne, I regard it as a special providence, as an answer
from God to your prayers for Marie. I had the good fortune to save
his life."
"Oh, Harry," Jeanne exclaimed, "what happiness! Then Marie's life
will be saved."
"I think I can almost promise you that, Jeanne, though I do not know
yet exactly how it's to be done. But such a piece of good fortune
would never have been sent to me had it not been intended that we
should save Marie. Now, sit down quietly, both of you, and you too,
Louise, and let me tell you all about it, for I have to be with
Robespierre again at nine o'clock."
"Oh, that is fortunate indeed!" Jeanne exclaimed when he had
finished. "Surely he cannot refuse any request you may make now."
"If he does, I must get it out of him somehow," Harry said cheerfully.
"By fair means or foul I will get the order for her release."
"But you don't think he can refuse, Harry?" Jeanne asked anxiously.
"I think he may refuse, Jeanne. He is proud of his integrity and
incorruptibility, and I think it quite possible that he may refuse
to grant Marie's release in return for a benefit done him personally.
However, do not let that discourage you in the least. As I said,
I will have the order by fair means or foul."
At nine o'clock Harry presented himself in readiness for work, and
found that his post would be no sinecure. The correspondence which
he had to go through was enormous. Requests for favours, letters
of congratulation on Robespierre's speeches and motions in the
Assembly, reports of scores of provincial committees, denunciations
of aristocrats, letters of blame because the work of rooting out
the suspects did not proceed faster, entreaties from friends of
prisoners. All these had to be sorted, read, and answered.
Robespierre was, Harry soon found, methodical in the extreme. He
read every letter himself, and not only gave directions how they
were to be answered, but read through the answers when written,
and was most careful before he affixed his signature to any paper
whatever. When it was time for him to leave for the Assembly he
made a note in pencil on each letter how it should be answered,
and directed Harry when he had finished them to leave them on the
table for him on his return.
"I foresee that you will be of great value to me, Monsieur Sandwith,"
he said, "and I shall be able to recommend you for any office that
may be vacant with a feeling of confidence that you will do justice
to my recommendation; or if you would rather, as time goes on,
attach your fortunes to mine, be assured that if I should rise to
power your fortune will be made. When you have done these letters
your time will be your own for the rest of the day. You know our
meal hours, and I can only say that we are punctual to a second."
When Harry had finished he strolled out. He saw that the task of
getting an order for Marie's release would be more difficult than
he had anticipated. He had hoped that by placing it with a batch of
papers before Robespierre he would get him to sign it among others
without reading it, but he now saw that this would be next to
impossible. One thing afforded him grounds for satisfaction. Among
the papers was a list of the prisoners to be brought up on the
following day for trial. To this Robespierre added two names, and
then signed it and sent it back to the prison. There was another
list with the names of the prisoners to be executed on the following
day, and this, Harry learned, was not sent in to the prison authorities
until late in the evening, so that even they were ignorant until
the last moment which of the prisoners were to be called for by
the tumbrils next morning. Thus he would know when Marie was to go
through the mockery of a trial, and would also know when her name
was put on the fatal list for the guillotine. The first fact he
might have been able to learn from his ally in the prison, but the
second and most important he could not have obtained in any other
way.
The work had been frequently interrupted by callers. Members of the
Committee of Public Safety, leaders of the Jacobin and Cordeliers
Clubs, and others, dropped in and asked Robespierre's advice,
or discussed measures to be taken; and after a day or two Harry
found that it was very seldom, except when taking his meals, that
Robespierre was alone while in the house; and as his sister was in
and out of the room all day, the idea of compelling him by force to
sign the order, as they had originally intended to do with Marat,
was clearly impracticable.
Each day after his work was over, and this was generally completed
by about one o'clock, Harry called to see how Victor was getting
on. He was gaining strength, but his brain appeared to make far
less progress than his bodily health. He did not recognize Harry in
the least, and although he would answer questions that were asked
him, his mind appeared a blank as to the past, and he often lay for
hours without speaking a word. After leaving him Harry met Louise
and the two girls at a spot agreed upon the day before, a fresh
meeting-place being arranged each day. He found it difficult to
satisfy them, for indeed each day he became more and more doubtful
as to his ability to get the order of release from Robespierre.
Towards the man himself his feelings were of a mixed kind. He
shuddered at the calmness with which, in his letters to the provincial
committees, he advocated wholesale executions of prisoners. He
wondered at the violence with which, in his shrill, high-pitched
voice, he declaimed in favour of the most revolutionary measures.
He admired the simplicity of his life, his affection for his sister
and his birds, his kindness of heart in all matters in which politics
were not concerned.
Among Robespierre's visitors during the next three weeks was Lebat,
who was, Harry found, an important personage, being the representative
on the Committee of Public Safety of the province of Burgundy, and
one of the most extreme of the frequenters of the Jacobin Club. He
did not recognize Harry, whom he had never noticed particularly on
the occasion of his visits to the chateau, and who, in the somewhat
threadbare black suit which he had assumed instead of the workman's
blouse, wrote steadily at a table apart, taking apparently no notice
of what was going on in the apartment.
But Harry's time was not altogether thrown away. It was his duty
the first thing of a morning to open and sort the letters and lay
them in piles upon the table used by Robespierre himself, and he
managed every day to slip quietly into his pockets several of the
letters of denunciation against persons as aristocrats in disguise
or as being suspected of hostility to the Commune. When Robespierre
left him to go to the Club or the Assembly Harry would write short
notes of warning in a disguised hand to the persons named, and
would, when he went out, leave these at their doors. Thus he had
the satisfaction of saving a considerable number of persons from
the clutches of the revolutionists. He would then, two or three
days later, slip the letters of denunciation, very few of which
were dated, among the rest of the correspondence, satisfied that
when search was made the persons named would already have shifted
their quarters and assumed some other disguise.
February had come and Harry was still working and waiting, busy
for several hours each day writing and examining reports with
Robespierre, striving of an evening to keep up the courage and
spirits of the girls, calling in for a few minutes each day to see
Victor, who, after passing through a long and terrible fever, now
lay weak and apparently unconscious alike of the past and present,
his mind completely gone; but the doctor told Harry that in this
respect he did not think the case was hopeless.
"His strength seems to have absolutely deserted him," he said,
"and his mind is a blank like that of a little child, but I by no
means despair of his gradually recovering; and if he could hear the
voice of the lady you tell me he is engaged to, it might strike a
chord now lying dormant and set the brain at work again."
But as to Marie, Harry could do nothing. Do what he would, he
could hit upon no plan whatever for getting her out of prison; and
he could only wait until some change in the situation or the appearance
of her name in the fatal list might afford some opportunity for
action. It was evident to him that Lebat was not pushing matters
forward, but that he preferred to wait and leave the horror of
months in prison to work upon Marie's mind, and so break her down
that she would be willing enough to purchase her life by a marriage
with him.
There had been some little lull in the work of blood, for in
December all eyes had been turned to the spectacle of the trial of
the king. From the 1 0th of August he had remained a close prisoner
in the Temple, watched and insulted by his ruffian guards, and
passing the time in the midst of his family with a serenity of mind,
a calmness, and tranquility which went far to redeem the blunders
he had made during the preceding three years. The following is the
account written by the princess royal in her journal of the manner
in which the family passed their days: "My father rose at seven
and said prayers till eight; then dressing himself he was with my
brother till nine, when he came to breakfast with my mother. After
breakfast my father gave us lessons till eleven o'clock; and then
my brother played till midday, when we went to walk together,
whatever the weather was, because at that hour they relieved guard
and wished to see us to be sure of our presence. Our walk was
continued till two o'clock, when we dined. After dinner my father
and mother played at backgammon, or rather pretended to play, in
order to have an opportunity of talking together for a short time.
"At four o'clock my mother went up stairs with us, because the king
then usually took a nap. At six o'clock my brother went down, and
my father gave us lessons till supper at nine. After supper my
mother soon went to bed. We then went up stairs, and the king went
to bed at eleven. My mother worked much at tapestry and made me
study, and frequently read alone. My aunt said prayers and read
the service; she also read many religious books, usually aloud."
But harmless as was the life of the royal family, Danton and the
Jacobins were determined upon having their lives. The mockery of
the trial commenced on the 1Oth of December. Malesherbes, Tronchet,
and Deseze defended him fearlessly and eloquently, but it was
useless - the king was condemned beforehand. Robespierre and Marat
led the assault. The Girondists, themselves menaced and alarmed,
stood neutral; but on the 15th of January the question was put to
the Assembly, "Is Louis Capet, formerly King of the French, guilty
of conspiracy and attempt against the general safety of the state?"
With scarcely a single exception, the Assembly returned an affirmative
answer, and on the 1 7th the final vote was taken. Three hundred
and sixty-one voted for death, two for imprisonment, two hundred
and eighty-six for detention, banishment, or conditional death,
forty-six for death but after a delay, twenty-six for death but
with a wish that the Assembly should revise the sentence.
Sentence of death was pronounced. After a sitting which lasted for
thirty-seven hours there was another struggle between the advocates
of delay and those of instant execution, but the latter won; and
after parting with noble resignation from his wife and family, the
king, on the 21st, was executed. His bearing excited the admiration
even of his bitterest foes.
France looked on amazed and appalled at the act, for Louis had
undoubtedly striven his best to lessen abuses and to go with the
people in the path of reform. It was his objection to shed blood,
his readiness to give way, his affection for the people, which had
allowed the Revolution to march on its bloody way without a check.
It was the victims - the nobles, the priests, the delicate women and
cultured men - who had reason to complain; for it was the king's
hatred to resistance which left them at the mercy of their foes.
Louis had been the best friend of the Revolution that slew him.
The trial and execution of the king had at least the good effect of
diverting the minds ofJeanne and Virginie from their own anxieties.
Jeanne was passionate and Virginie tearful in their sorrow and
indignation. Over and over again Jeanne implored Harry to try to
save the king. There were still many Royalists, and indeed the bulk
of the people were shocked and alienated by the violence of the
Convention; and Jeanne urged that Harry might, from his connection
with Robespierre, obtain some pass or document which would enable
the king to escape. But Harry refused to make any attempt whatever
on his behalf.
"In the first place, Jeanne, it would be absolutely impossible for
the king, watched as he is, to escape; and no pass or permit that
Robespierre could give would be of the smallest utility. You must
remember, that although all apparently unite against the king, there
is a never-ending struggle going on in the Convention between the
various parties and the various leaders. Robespierre is but one
of them, although, perhaps, the most prominent; but could I wring
a pass from him even if only to see the king, that pass would not
be respected.
"In the next place, Jeanne, I have nothing to do with these struggles
in France. I am staying here to do what little I can to watch over
you and Virginie, for the sake of your dear parents and because I
love you both; and I have also, if possible, to rescue Marie from
the hands of these murderers. The responsibility is heavy enough;
and could I, by merely using Robespierre's name, rescue the king
and queen and their children and pass them across the frontier, I
would not do it if the act in the slightest degree interfered with
my freedom of action towards you and Marie."
"But Virginie and I would die for the king!" Jeanne said passionately.
"Happily, Jeanne," Harry replied coolly, "your dying would in no
respect benefit him; and as your life is in my eyes of a thousand
times more consequence than that of the king, and as your chances
of safety to some extent depend upon mine, I do not mean to risk
one of those chances for the sake of his majesty. Besides, to tell
you the truth, I have a good deal of liking for my own life, and
have a marked objection to losing my head. You see I have people
at home who are fond of me, and who want to see me back again with
that head on my shoulders."
"I know, Harry; I know," Jeanne said with her eyes full of tears.
"Do not think that I am ungrateful because I talk so. I am always
thinking how wrong it is that you should be staying here risking
your life for us instead of going home to those who love you. I
think sometimes Virginie and I ought to give ourselves up, and then
you could go home." And Jeanne burst into tears.
"My dear Jeanne," Harry said soothingly, "do not worry yourself
about me. It would have been just as dangerous at the time your
father was taken prisoner for me to have tried to escape from
the country as it was to stay here - in fact I should say that it
was a good deal more dangerous; and at present, as Robespierre's
secretary, I am in no danger at all. It is a little disagreeable
certainly serving a man whom one regards in some respects as being
a sort of wild beast; but at the same time, in his own house, I
am bound to say, he is a very decent kind of man and not at all a
bad fellow to get on with.
'As to what I have done for you, so far as I see I have done nothing
beyond bringing you here in the first place, and coming to have a
pleasant chat with you every evening. Nor, with the best will in
the world, have I been able to be of the slightest assistance to
Marie. As we say at home, my intentions are good; but so far the
intentions have borne no useful fruit whatever. Come, Jeanne, dry
your eyes, for it is not often that I have seen you cry. We have
thrown in our lot together, and we shall swim or sink in company.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11 | 12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20