The Sword of Honor; or, The Foundation of the French Republic

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The Sword of Honor; or, The Foundation of the French Republic Page 13

by Eugène Sue


  CHAPTER X.

  DEPUTY DESMARAIS.

  The deputy of the Third Estate was a man in the prime of life; hisintellectual face betrayed more of diplomacy than of frankness. Thedisorder of his apparel and the perspiration that covered his browbespoke the precipitancy of his return. His pallor, the contortion ofhis features, the fear portrayed upon them, disclosed the anxiety of hismind. But his whole expression relaxed at sight of Charlotte and hermother. He pressed them several times in turn to his bosom, and criedjoyously:

  "Dear wife--dear daughter--embrace me again! I never before thought whata consolation in these cursed times the sweet joys of the domestichearth would prove."

  And again embracing his wife and daughter, the advocate added,"Blessings on you both for your presence. You have made me forget for amoment the atrocities committed by a cannibal people!"

  As Monsieur Desmarais uttered these last words, a storm of triumphaloutcries, first distant, then gradually drawing nearer, smote upon hisear: "Victory! The Bastille is taken by the people! Down with the court!Down with the traitors! Down with the King! Death to the King! Long livethe Nation!"

  Then as gradually the cries moved away and died out in the distance.

  "The Bastille is taken--but how much blood had to be shed in the heroicattack!" thought Charlotte, endeavoring to curb her apprehensions forJohn Lebrenn. Then, carrying her handkerchief to her lips to smother asob, she added to herself, "He is dead, perhaps. O, God, have pity on mygrief."

  "What mean these cries, my friend?" asked Madam Desmarais of herhusband. "Is it possible that the Bastille has fallen into the hands ofthe people? Can the working classes have overcome the army? In what sortof times do we live?"

  "The Bastille is taken! Cursed day--the people are on top!"

  Charlotte heard with astonishment the execrations of her father on thevictory just won by the people. But before she was able to explain toherself this revulsion in her father's beliefs, Gertrude re-entered theroom, calling out through the open door--

  "Good news again! Mother Lebrenn, our neighbor, has sent one of herapprentices to inform you that she has just received a note fromMonsieur John, saying that he received a slight gunshot wound in theshoulder during the battle--and announcing that the people is everywherevictorious!"

  "John Lebrenn!" exclaimed Monsieur Desmarais, enraged. "He took part inthat insurrection! Send answer to Mother Lebrenn that I take no interestin parties to massacre!" Then recollecting himself, he added, "No--sayto the apprentice that you have delivered the message."

  "Not a word of interest, and John wounded," thought Charlotte. "Ah, atleast, thanks to You, my God, John's wound is slight. I need not tremblefor his life."

  "If the revolution one of these days miscarries, it will be the fools ofthe stamp of this Lebrenn who will be to blame," continued Desmaraisbitterly. "They will not comprehend that the ideal government is abourgeois, constitutional monarchy, amenable to the courts, disarmed,and subordinated to an assembly of representatives of the Third Estate.These miserable workingmen dishonor the revolution by assassination."

  "Father," responded Charlotte firmly, her forehead flushed with agenerous resolve, "Monsieur John Lebrenn can not be called an assassin."

  "I, too, believed in the honesty of that workman whom I showered withfavors, in spite of the warnings of your uncle Hubert," repliedDesmarais. "But when John Lebrenn takes part in this insurrection, Iwithdraw my esteem. I look upon him as a brigand!"

  "John Lebrenn a brigand!" exclaimed Charlotte, unable to restrain herindignation. "Is it you, father, who thus insult a man whom you but nowcalled your friend! What a contradiction in your language!"

  "My dear husband," interposed Madam Desmarais, interrupting her daughterto retard an explanation of which she dreaded the issue: "You have notyet told us what compelled your departure from Versailles, and why youare in Paris instead of in session with the National Assembly."

  "Last evening and night the most sinister rumors were in circulationabout Versailles. According to some, the court party had secured fromthe King the dissolution of the Assembly. The members of the Left wereto be arrested as seditious characters, and imprisoned or banished fromthe kingdom."

  "Great heaven--that is where you sit, my friend! To what danger have younot been exposed!"

  "They would not have taken me from my curule chair alive," responded theattorney grandly. "But the court party, frightened by the peals of thecannon at the Bastille, the roar of which carried to Versailles, drewback before the fearsome consequences of such an attempt."

  "I breathe again," exclaimed Madam Desmarais with a sigh of relief. "Youare neither a fugitive nor proscribed. God be praised!"

  "Still, other reports agitated Versailles and the Assembly on the scoreof the uneasiness in Paris. During the night they saw, from thehousetops, the gleam of burning barriers. In the morning a courierdespatched by Baron Bezenval, commandant of Paris, brought news to thegovernment that the people of the suburb of St. Antoine, assisted bythose from the other suburbs, were besieging the Bastille. This sort ofaggression was considered by the majority of the representatives anenterprise as blameworthy as it was senseless. No one could conjecturethat a mob of people, in rags, almost without arms, could take afortress defended by a garrison and a battery of artillery. The attemptwas in the highest degree extravagant."

  "The victory of the people was truly heroic," answered Madam Desmarais."It really savors of the miraculous."

  "Alas, a few more miracles of that stamp and the royal power isoverthrown, and we fall into anarchy," moodily replied the advocate."The people, drunk with its triumph, will not content itself with wisereforms. Having overthrown the royalty, the nobility, and the clergy, itwill turn on the bourgeoisie, and we, its allies during the combat,shall become its victims after the victory. It will push to the end thelogic of its principles."

  "Good heavens, my friend, you express to-day the same opinions you tilllately fought in my brother!"

  "Your brother Hubert is a violent man who knows nothing of politics,"answered the attorney, much embarrassed by his wife's observation; andhe added, "This morning the National Assembly, wishing to ascertain thetruth as to the conflicting rumors of events in Paris, commissionedseveral of its members, myself among the number, to learn by actualwitness the march of affairs, and, if possible, to check the shedding ofblood. In spite of our haste to the city, when we arrived the peoplewere already masters of the Bastille and had already disgraced theirvictory by slaughtering the Marquis De Launay, governor of the fortress,and several officers. These murders were then followed by ghoulishscenes, which I beheld with my own eyes. But everything in its time. Mycolleagues and I went to the City Hall. We succeeded, with much effort,in working our way through the swarms of people in arms. We saw theunhappy Flesselles, President of the Committee of Notables, livid,whelmed with blows and insults, his clothing torn to ribbons, draggedinto the square and massacred: after the noble, the bourgeois! Among theassassins I remarked a brawny giant, with the face of a gallows-bird,and a little short man whose visage half vanished under a shock of redbeard, evidently false, who dragged at his side a young boy of eight ornine years. At one instant I thought that the unhappy Fleselles mightbe saved, but the declamations of the red-bearded man and the giantraised to a paroxysm the fury of a band of savages whom they seemed todirect, and I knew then that the Provost of the merchants was lost. Thefellow with the red beard drew up to him and cracked his head at oneblow, with the butt of his pistol. The savage band hurled itself uponthe unfortunate man as he fell to earth, and riddled him with wounds.The giant put the climax to the horrible deed: he cut off the head andimpaled it on the end of a pike. Then the whole band of scoundrels, thelittle boy along with the rest, began to dance around the hideoustrophy, singing and shouting."

  "My blood freezes in my veins, my friend, when I think of the danger youran in the midst of that frantic populace," said Madam Desmarais. "Thosemadmen are worse than cannibals--and Paris seems to be in their power.
"

  "That is what I saw; but unfortunately that is not the only crime thereis to deplore. Other murders followed this first one. The blood thusshed threw the populace into a species of frenzy. Finally I was able toescape, to get out of the crowd, and I hastened to you, dear wife, andto our daughter. These are the crimes that the takers of the Bastilleeither perpetrated, or are accomplices in. By giving the signal forinsurrection, they have thrown the people into all the dangers of arevolt. That is why John Lebrenn is no better in my eyes than a commonbandit."

  "You are unjust, father, toward him whom you called your friend,"ventured Charlotte, in a voice firm with resolution. "On reflection youwill return to sentiments that are more just to Monsieur Lebrenn."

  Struck with astonishment at his daughter's words and tone, the advocatequestioned his wife with a look, as if to seek the cause of this strangeappeal on the part of Charlotte for Monsieur John.

  "It is I, father, who can give you the explanation you seek of mymother. I shall not falter in doing so," said Charlotte; and after amomentary pause she continued:

  "I shall not recall to you how many times you have uttered yourself interms of friendship and esteem for Monsieur Lebrenn. The good opinionyou held of him was merited, and I dare vouch that he will continue toshow himself worthy of it. I shall not recall to you the proofs ofdevotion Monsieur Lebrenn has given you, notably at the time of yourelection. It is not willingly that I bring back to your memory theincident of the outrage of which you were the victim at the instigationof Monsieur the Count of Plouernel, and which you communicated toMonsieur Lebrenn in confidence one evening about two months ago. Itcosts me much to reopen in your heart that rankling wound. But do youremember the generous choler with which Monsieur Lebrenn was seized atyour revelation? 'I am but a mechanic, and without doubt this great lordwill consider me unworthy to raise a sword against him,' said MonsieurJohn to you, 'but I swear to God, I shall punish the wretch with thesestout arms that heaven has bestowed upon me.' Already he was boundingtowards the door to be off to avenge your insult, when you and my motherstopped him with great difficulty, plying your supplications to make himpromise not to attack your enemy. And then, clasping him in your arms,you said to him, your voice quivering with emotion, and your eyes filledwith tears, 'Ah, my friend, you shall be my son; for no otherwise thanas a son did you feel the insult I received. This mark of attachment,joined to all the other proofs of your affection, renders you so dear tomy heart that from this moment I shall look upon you as one of themembers of our family. You have won all our hearts--'"

  "And what has all this to do with the excesses which Monsieur Lebrennhas been one of the instigators of, and with the assassinations which Ihave witnessed? Come, speak clearly, explain yourself. I understandnothing of all this pathos."

  "By what right, father, do you render Monsieur Lebrenn responsible for amurder to which he was an entire stranger?"

  "But whence this great interest, my daughter, in taking the part ofMonsieur Lebrenn against your father?"

  "In spite of my ignorance of politics, dear father, I know that inattacking the Bastille the people wished to destroy the house of durancewhere shuddered so many innocent victims. And perhaps Monsieur Lebrenn,in joining himself with the insurgents, hoped to find his father in oneof the dungeons of the fortress."

  "And if by chance he should discover him!" exclaimed advocate Desmarais,more and more surprised and irritated at his daughter's persistence indefending Lebrenn. "Does that chance absolve him from the excesses forwhich the taking of the Bastille was the signal? Ought not theresponsibility for these acts fall upon those who took part in theattack, among others on Monsieur Lebrenn, who, it seems, is one of theleaders of the insurrection?"

  "Does the memory of services rendered, father, weigh so heavily uponyou that you seek to evade all recollection of them, under the pretextof a responsibility which you endeavor to load on a generous man for thecrimes committed by others?"

  "Do you know, Charlotte," answered the advocate severely, after a fewmoments' reflection, "that your persistence in defending that man wouldjustly give me strange suspicions regarding your conduct?"

  "My friend," interrupted Madam Desmarais, "do not attach any importanceto a few words which have escaped our daughter in a moment ofexcitement."

  "You are mistaken, dear mother. I am perfectly calm. But I can notsubmit to hearing a man of heart and honor calumniated withoutprotesting against what I regard as a great wrong to him. Why should Inot say to father what I have just said to you, mother--that for twomonths my faith has been pledged to Monsieur John Lebrenn, that I havesworn to him to have no other husband than he? And I shall add, beforeyou, my father, and you, my mother, that I shall be true to my promise."

  "Great God!" cried the advocate, stunned with amazement, "that miserableworkman has dared to raise his eyes to my daughter! He has stolen mychild from me! Death and damnation, I shall have vengeance!"

  "You are in error, father; your daughter has not been stolen away,"proudly returned Charlotte. "That _miserable_ workingman in whosepresence you have so many times argued against the privileges of birth,against the artificial distinctions which separate the classes insociety--that _miserable_ workingman whom you treated as a friend, anequal, when you judged his support necessary to your ambition--that_miserable_ workingman placed his faith in the sincerity of yourprofessions, father, he saw in me his equal--and his love has been aspure, as respectful as it has been deep--and devoted--and my heart--isgiven to him--"

  "You are a brazen hussy!" yelled the lawyer, pale with rage. "Leave mypresence! You disgrace my name!"

  "On the contrary, father, I hope I do honor to your name, in puttinginto practise those principles of equality and fraternity whose generouspromoter you have made yourself."

  At that moment the noise of many voices was heard under the windows ofthe Desmarais apartment, crying enthusiastically: "Long live CitizenDesmarais! Long live the friend of the people! Long live ourrepresentative!" These eloquent testimonies of the popular affection forMonsieur Desmarais offered so strange a contradiction to the reproacheswhich he had just addressed to Charlotte, that under the impression ofthe contrast the lawyer, his wife and his daughter fell silent.

  "Do you hear them, father?" Charlotte at last ventured. "These bravepeople believe, the same as I, in the sincerity of your principles ofequality. They acclaim you as the friend of the people."

  At the same instant Gertrude ran into the room breathless withexcitement, exclaiming: "A troop of the vanquishers of the Bastille,with Monsieur John Lebrenn at their head, has halted before the house.They want monsieur to appear on the balcony and address them."

  "Death of my life! This is too much," snarled the advocate, at themoment that new cries resounded from without:

  "Long live Citizen Desmarais. Long live the friend of the people! Comeout! Come out! Long live the Nation! Down with the King! Death to thearistocrats!"

  "My friend, you can not hesitate. You will run the greatest danger bynot appearing and saying a few good words to these maniacs. In badfortune we must show a good heart," said Madam Desmarais, alarmed; thenaddressing Gertrude: "Quick, quick, open the window to the balcony."

 

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