In The Reign Of Terror

by G. A. Henty

  "Where am I going, then?"

  "You are going to the house of a worthy couple, who have shown themselves faithful and trustworthy by nursing a friend of mine, who has for nearly six months been lying ill there. You will be perfectly safe there till we can arrange matters."

  "But if Robespierre has signed my release, as they said, I am safe enough, surely, and can go where I like."

  "I think you will be safe from re-arrest here in Paris, Marie, because you could appeal to him; but outside Paris it might be different. However, we can talk about that to-morrow, when you have had a good night's rest."

  Harry did not think it necessary to say, that when Lebat was missed it would probably be ascertained that he was last seen leaving La Force with her, and that if inquiries were set on foot about him she might be sought for. However, Marie said no more on the subject, quite content that Harry should make whatever arrangements he thought best, and she now began to ask all sorts of questions about her sisters, and so passed the time until they were close to the Place de Carrousel; then Harry called Jacques to stop.

  "Will you please get out, Marie, and wait with our good friend here till I return. I shall be back in five minutes. I have to hand the coach over to its owner.

  Jacques threw Lebat's clothes over his arm and got down from the box. Harry took his seat and drove into the Place, where he found the coachman awaiting him.

  "Have you managed the job?"

  "That we have," Harry said. "He has a lesson, and Isabel has gone off to her friends again. Poor little girl, I hope it will cure her of her flightiness. Here is your cape and your money, my friend, and thank you."

  "You are heartily welcome," the driver said, mounting his box. "I wish I could do as well every day; but these are bad times for us, and money is precious scarce, I can tell you."

  Harry soon rejoined Jacques and Marie. There were but few words said as they made their way through the streets, for Marie was weakened by her long imprisonment, and shaken by what she had gone through. She had not asked a single question as to what had become of Lebat; but she had no doubt that he was killed. She had grown, however, almost indifferent to death. Day after day she had seen batches of her friends taken out to execution, and the retribution which had fallen upon this wretch gave her scarcely a thought, except a feeling of thankfulness that she was freed from his persecutions. Completely as she trusted Harry, it was with the greatest difficulty that she had brought herself to obey his instructions and to place herself for a moment in the power of her persecutor, and appear to go with him willingly.

  When Lebat told her triumphantly that he had saved her from death, and that she was to have formed one of the party in the tumbril on the following morning had he not obtained her release, she had difficulty in keeping back the indignant words, that she would have preferred death a thousand times. When he said that he had come to take her away, she had looked round with a terrified face, as if to claim the protection of the guards; but he had said roughly:

  "It is no use your objecting, you have got to go with me; and if you are a wise woman you had better make the best of it. After all I am not very terrible, and you had better marry me than the guillotine."

  So, trembling with loathing and disgust, she had followed him, resolved that if Harry's plan to rescue her failed she would kill herself rather than be the wife of this man.

  When they reached the house Elise opened the door.

  "So you have come, poor lamb!" she said. "Thanks to the good God that all has turned out well. You will be safe here, my child. We are rough people, but we will take care of you as if you were our own."

  So saying she led the girl to the little sitting-room which they had prepared for her, for they had that afternoon taken the other two rooms on the floor they occupied, which were fortunately to let, and had fitted them up as a bed-room and sitting-room for her. There was already a communication existing between the two sets of apartments, and they had only to remove some brickwork between the double doors to throw them into one suite. Telling Marie to sit down, Elise hurried off and returned with a basin of bouillon.

  "Drink this, my dear, and then go straight to bed; your friend will be here in good time in the morning, and then you can talk over matters with him." She waited to see Marie drink the broth, and then helped her to undress.

  "She will be asleep in five minutes," she said when she rejoined her husband and Harry. "She is worn out with excitement, but a night's rest will do wonders for her. Don't come too early in the morning, Monsieur Sandwith; she is sure to sleep late, and I would not disturb her till she wakes of herself."

  "I will be here at nine," Harry said, "and will go round before that and tell her sisters. They will be wondering they have seen nothing of me to-day, but I was afraid to tell them until it was all over. The anxiety would have been too great for them."

  It was fortunate that Robespierre went out early on the following morning to attend a meeting at the Jacobins, and Harry was therefore saved the necessity for asking leave to absent himself again. At eight o'clock he was at Louise Moulin's.

  "What is it, Harry?" Jeanne exclaimed as he entered. "I can see you have news. What is it?"

  "I have news," Harry said, "and good news, but you must not excite yourselves."

  "Have you found a way for getting Marie out?"

  "Yes, I have found a way."

  "A sure, certain way, Harry?" Virginie asked. "Not only a chance?"

  "A sure, certain way," Harry replied. "You need have no more fear; Marie will certainly be freed."

  The two girls stood speechless with delight. It never occurred to them to doubt Harry's words when he spoke so confidently.

  "Have you told us all, Harry?" Jeanne asked a minute later, looking earnestly in his face. "Can it be? Is she really out already?"

  "Yes," Harry said, "thank God, dears, your sister is free."

  With a cry of delight Virginie sprang to him, and throwing her arms round his neck, kissed him in the exuberance of her happiness. Louise threw her apron over her head and burst into tears of thankfulness, while Jeanne put her hand on his shoulder and said:

  "Oh, Harry, how can we ever thank you enough for all you have done for us?"

  Six months back Jeanne would probably have acted as Virginie did, but those six months had changed her greatly; indeed, ever since she received that note from Marie, which she had never shown even to Virginie, there had been a shade of difference in her manner to Harry, which he had more than once noticed and wondered at.

  It was some little time before the girls were sufficiently composed to listen to Harry's story.

  "But why did you not bring her here, Harry?" Virginie asked. "Why did you take her somewhere else?"

  "For several reasons, Virginie. I have not told you before, but there is no reason why you should not know now, that Victor is still in Paris."

  Virginie uttered an exclamation of wonder.

  "He stopped here to look after you all, but he has had a very bad illness, and is still terribly weak, and does not even know me. Marie will nurse him. I have great hopes that he will know her, and that she may be able in time to effect a complete cure. In the next place I think it would be dangerous to bring her here, for we must leave in a very few days."

  "What, go without her?"

  "Yes, I am afraid so, Virginie. I have learned, Louise, that some of your neighbours have their suspicions, and that a letter of denunciation has already been sent, so it will be absolutely necessary to make a move. I have suppressed the first letter, but the writer will probably not let the matter drop, and may write to Danton or Marat next time, so we must go without delay. You cannot change your lodging, for they would certainly trace you; besides, at the present time the regulations about lodgers are so strict that no one would dare receive you until the committee of the district have examined you and are perfectly satisfied. Therefore, I think we must go alone. Marie is wanted here, and I think she will be far safer nursing Victor than she would be wi
th us; besides, now she has been freed by Robespierre's orders, I do not think there is any fear of her arrest even if her identity were discovered. Lastly, it would be safer to travel three than four. Three girls travelling with a young fellow like me would be sure to attract attention. It will be difficult enough in any case, but it would certainly be worse with her with us."

  "But we are to see her, Harry?" Jeanne said. "Surely we are not to go away without seeing Marie!"

  "Certainly not, Jeanne; I am not so cruel as that. This evening, after dark, we will meet in the gardens of the Tuileries. Louise, will you bring them down and be with them near the main entrance? I will bring Marie there at six o'clock. And now I must be off; I have to break the news to Marie that Victor is in the same house with her and ill. I did not tell her last night. She will be better able to bear it after a good night's sleep."

  Marie was up and dressed when Harry arrived, and was sitting by the fire in the little kitchen.

  "I have just left your sisters, Marie," Harry said, "and you may imagine their delight at the news I gave them. You are to see them this evening in the gardens of the Tuileries."

  "Oh, Harry, how good you are! How much you have done for us!"

  Harry laughed lightly.

  "Not very much yet; besides, it has been a pleasure as well as a duty. The girls have both been so brave, and Jeanne has the head of a woman."

  "She is nearly a woman now, Harry," Marie said gently. "She is some months past sixteen, and though you tell me girls of that age in England are quite children, it is not so here. Why, it is nothing uncommon for a girl to marry at sixteen."

  "Well, at anyrate," Harry said, "Jeanne has no time for any thought of marrying just at present. But there is another thing I want to tell you about. I have first a confession to make. I have deceived you."

  "Deceived me!" Marie said with a smile. "It can be nothing very dreadful, Harry. Well, what is it?"

  "It is more serious than you think, Marie. Now you know that when the trouble began I felt it quite out of the question for me to run away, and leave you all here in Paris unprotected. Such a thing would have been preposterous."

  "You think so, Harry, because you have a good heart; but most people would have thought of themselves, and would not have run all sorts of risks for the sake of three girls with no claim upon them."

  "Well, Marie, you allow then that a person with a good heart would naturally do as I did."

  "Well, supposing I do, Harry, what then?"

  "You must still further allow that a person with a good heart, and upon whom you had a great claim, would all the more have remained to protect you."

  "What are you driving at, Harry, with your supposition?" she said, her cheek growing a little paler as a suspicion of the truth flashed upon her.

  "Well, Marie, you mustn't be agitated, and I hope you will not be angry; but I ask you how, as he has a good heart, and you have claims upon him, could you expect Victor de Gisons to run away like a coward and leave you here?"

  Marie had risen to her feet and gazed at him with frightened eyes.

  "What, is it about him that you deceived me! Is it true that he did not go away? Has anything happened to him? Oh, Harry, do not say he is dead!"

  "He is not dead, Marie, but he has been very, very ill. He was with me at La Force on that terrible night, and saw his father brought out to be murdered. The shock nearly killed him. He has had brain fever, and has been at death's door. At present he is mending, but very, very slowly. He knows no one, not even me, but I trust that your voice and your presence will do wonders for him."

  "Where is he, Harry?" Marie said as she stood with clasped hands, and a face from which every vestige of colour had flown. "Take me to him at once."

  "He is in the house, Marie; that is why I have brought you here. These good people have nursed and concealed him for five months."

  Marie made a movement towards the door.

  "Wait, Marie, you cannot go to him till you compose yourself. It is all-important that you should speak to him, when you see him, in your natural voice, and you must prepare yourself for a shock. He is at present a mere wreck, so changed that you will hardly know him."

  "You are telling me the truth, Harry? You are not hiding from me that he is dying?"

  "No, dear; I believe, on my honour, that he is out of danger now, and that he is progressing. It is his mind more than his body that needs curing. It may be a long and difficult task, Marie, before he is himself again; but I believe that with your care and companionship he will get round in time, but it may be months before that."

  "Time is nothing," Marie said. "But what about the girls?"

  "They must still be under my charge, Marie. I shall start with them in a day or two and try to make for the sea-shore, and then across to England. Suspicions have been aroused; they have already been denounced, and may be arrested at any time. Therefore it is absolutely necessary that they should fly at once; but I thought that you would consider it your first duty to stay with Victor, seeing that to him your presence is everything, while you could do nothing to assist your sisters, and indeed the fewer of us there are the better."

  "Certainly it is my duty," Marie said firmly.

  "You will be perfectly safe here under the care of Jacques and his wife. They have already given out to their neighbours that Victor's fiance is coming to help nurse him, and even if by any possibility a suspicion of your real position arises, you have Robespierre's pardon as a protection. This state of things cannot last for ever; a reaction must come; and then if Victor is cured, you will be able to escape together to England."

  "Leave me a few minutes by myself, Harry. All this has come so suddenly upon me that I feel bewildered."

  "Certainly," Harry said. "It is best that you should think things over a little. No wonder you feel bewildered and shaken with all the trials you have gone through."

  Marie went to her room and returned in a quarter of an hour.

  "I am ready now," she said, and by the calm and tranquil expression of her face Harry felt that she could be trusted to see Victor.

  "I have a feeling," she went on, "that everything will come right in the end. I have been saved almost by a miracle, and I cannot but feel that my life has been spared in order that I might take my place here. As to the girls, it was a shock at first when you told me that fresh danger threatened them, and that I should not be able to share their perils upon their journey; but I could not have aided them, and God has marked out my place here. No, Harry, God has protected me so far, and will aid me still. Now I am ready for whatever may betide."

  "One moment before you enter, Marie. You are prepared, I know, to see a great change in Victor, but nevertheless you cannot but be shocked at first. Do not go up to him or attract his attention till you have overcome this and are able to speak to him in your natural voice. I think a great deal depends upon the first impression you make on his brain. Your voice has a good deal changed in the last six months; it would be strange if it had not; but I want you to try and speak to him in the bright cheerful tone he was accustomed to hear."

  Marie nodded. "One moment," she said, as she brushed aside the tears which filled her eyes, drew herself up with a little gesture that reminded Harry of old times, and then with a swift step passed through the door into Victor's room. Whatever she felt at the sight of the wasted figure lying listlessly with half-closed eyes on the couch, it only showed itself by a swift expression of pain which passed for a moment across her face and then was gone.

  "Victor," she said in her clear ringing voice, "Victor, my well beloved, I am come to you." The effect upon Victor was instantaneous. He opened his eyes with a start, half rose from his couch and held out his arms towards her.

  "Marie," he said in a faint voice, "you have come at last. I have wanted you so much."

  Then, as Marie advanced to him, and kneeling by his side, clasped him in her arms, Elise and Harry stole quietly from the room. It was nearly an hour before Marie came out. There
was a soft glow of happiness on her face, though her cheeks were pale.

  "Not yet!" she said, as she swept past them into her own room.

  In a few minutes she reappeared.

  "Pardon me," she said, holding out her hands to Harry and Elise, "but I had to thank the good God first. Victor is quite sensible now, but oh, so weak! He remembers nothing of the past, but seems to think he is still in Burgundy, and has somehow had an illness. Then he spoke of the duke and my dear father and mother as being still alive, and that he hoped they would let me come to him now. I told him that all should be as he wished as soon as he got stronger, but that he must not think of anything now, and that I would nurse him, and all would be well. He seemed puzzled about my dress"—for Marie had already put on the simple attire which had been prepared for her—"but I told him that it was fit for a sick-room, and he seemed satisfied. He has just dozed off to sleep, and I will go in and sit with him now till he wakes."

  "When he does, mademoiselle, I will have some broth and a glass of good burgundy ready for him," Elise said.

  "Thank you; but please call me Marie in future. There are no mesdemoiselles in France now, and I shall call you Elise instead of Madame. And Harry, would you mind telling the girls that I will meet them to-morrow instead of this evening. I long to see them, oh so, so much; but I should not like to leave him for a moment now. I fear so that his memory might go again if he were to wake and miss me."

  "I was going to propose it myself, Marie," Harry said. "It is all-important to avoid any agitation now. To- morrow, I hope, it will be safer, and the doctor will give him a sleeping-draught, so that he shall not wake while you are away. But, Marie, remember it will be a farewell visit, for I dare not let them stay more than another day. They may be denounced again at any hour, for the man who wrote to Robespierre, if he finds that nothing comes of it, may go to the local committee, and they will not lose an hour, you may be sure."

  "I must see them this evening, then," Marie said hurriedly. "The doctor will be here, you say, soon. Victor must have his sleeping-draught this afternoon instead of to- morrow. They must go at once. I should never forgive myself if, by putting off our parting for twenty-four hours, I caused them to fall into the hands of these wretches; so please hurry on all the arrangements so that they may leave the first thing to-morrow morning."