While he was talking understanding flashed upon me. He was the man the Comte and I had seen all those years ago. No wonder I had felt I had seen him before. I had not completely recognized him, for when I had first seen him he had been dressed like a peasant, as he was now. He wore a dark wig which slightly changed his appearance. He did not look quite like the gentleman who had come to tutor our boys. But it was the same man. Dickon had been right. He was an agitator in the service of the Duc d’Orléans whose plan was to bring about a revolution so that he might step into the King’s shoes. As Dickon had said, Blanchard was an Orléanist. The Duc de Soissonson was too and he had come to Aubigné to investigate Armand’s band which had resulted in Armand’s receiving his lettre de cachet …arranged no doubt by men in high places. Orléans … Soissonson …
‘It is monstrous,’ I said.
‘Hush!’ warned Lisette.
I turned to her. She was staring at Léon Blanchard as though entranced.
I whispered: ‘We must get back quickly. We must warn them … ’
‘Are you ready, Citizens?’ asked Blanchard; and there was a roar from the crowd.
‘In good order then we will assemble here at dusk. These duties are best carried out at night.’
I felt as though I was choking. I wanted to shout: This man is a traitor. My father was always good to his people. Our servants lived well. How dare you say we starved them! My father always cared for their welfare. They were never given mouldy bread. And Léon Blanchard, wicked traitor that he was, lived with us … as a member of the family when he deceived us and played the part of tutor.
How we had been deceived. Dickon had been right. If only we had listened to Dickon!
Lisette was gripping my arm. ‘Be careful,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t open your mouth. Come on. Let’s get out of here.’ She almost dragged me through the crowds. We found the ponies and rode back to the château.
‘So that wicked man was a traitor all the time,’ I said.
‘It depends what you mean by traitor,’ replied Lisette. ‘He was true to his cause.’
‘The cause of revolution! What are we going to do? Leave the château?’
‘Where would we go?’
‘Are we going to wait for them to come, then?’
‘The crowd didn’t harm you, did it?’ I looked down at my plain dress. ‘No,’ she went on, ‘you look like a good servant … a woman of the right class.’
‘If they take the château … ’ I began.
Again there was that familiar lifting of her shoulders.
‘Lisette,’ I went on, ‘what’s the matter with you? You don’t seem to care.’
We went into the château. It was very quiet. I thought of the mob listening to the traitor Blanchard and I wondered if I should ever see it like this again.
I said: ‘What are we going to do? We must warn Sophie and Jeanne.’
‘For what purpose?’
‘And Tante Berthe …’ I went on.
‘She will be safe. After all, she is only a servant.’
Lisette had followed me up to my bedroom.
I said: ‘Lisette, did you know that Léon Blanchard was going to be there today.’
She smiled at me mysteriously. ‘You were always so easily deceived, Lottie,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Léon sent word to me. He and I were great friends … intimate friends. We had such a lot in common, you see.’
‘You … and Léon Blanchard!’
She nodded, smiling. ‘I knew him during those miserable years when I was at the farm. He brought me here.’
I closed my eyes. So much was becoming clear. I remembered the groom who had brought her and that odd feeling I had had of something familiar about him.
‘What does this mean, Lisette?’ I demanded. ‘There is something you are trying to tell me. What has happened to you? You’re different.’
‘I’m not different,’ she said. ‘I was always the same.’
‘You look at me now as though you hate me.’
‘In a way,’ she said reflectively, ‘I do. And yet I am fond of you. I don’t understand my feelings for you. I always loved to be with you. We had such fun together … ’ She began to laugh. ‘The fortune-teller … yes, that was, in a way the beginning.’
‘Lisette,’ I said, ‘do you realize that that wicked man with his mob will be marching on the château at dusk?’
‘What should I do about that, Lottie?’
‘Perhaps we should get away. Hide … ’
‘Who? You and Sophie with Jeanne. What about those sick men? I don’t suppose the mob will care very much about them. They look like scarecrows anyway. Jeanne and Tante Berthe will have nothing to fear. Servants don’t.’
‘I had decided we couldn’t go and leave the men.’
‘Then we stay.’
‘Lisette, you seem … pleased.’
‘I’ll tell you, shall I? I have wanted to so many times. It goes back a long way. We are sisters, Lottie … you … myself … and Sophie. The only difference is that I was never acknowledged as you were.’
‘Sisters! That’s not true, Lisette.’
‘Oh, is it not? I have always known it. I remember our father from my babyhood. Why should he have brought me here if it were not so?’
‘He told me who you were, Lisette.’
‘He told you!’
‘Yes, he did. You are not his daughter. He didn’t know you until you were three or four years old.’
‘That’s a lie.’
‘Why should he lie to me? And if you had been his daughter he would have acknowledged you as such.’
‘He did not because my mother was a poor woman … not like yours … living in a great mansion … as noble as he was almost … and he married her.’
‘I know what happened, Lisette, because he told me. Your mother was his mistress but after you were born. He first discovered you when he visited her and you were there. When your mother was dying she sent for her sister Berthe and asked her to take care of you. The Comte then brought Tante Berthe here as housekeeper and allowed you to stay here and be educated with us because of his affection for your mother.’
‘Lies!’ she cried. ‘That was his story. He did not want to acknowledge me because my mother was only a seamstress.’
I shook my head.
‘Yes,’ she went on, ‘he told you those lies because he wanted to excuse himself. I was never treated quite as one of you, was I? I was always the housekeeper’s niece. I wanted to be acknowledged. Who wouldn’t? And then … Charles came along.
‘You mean Charles, my husband?’
‘Charles. He was fun wasn’t he? But what a fool to go to America. He was going to marry Sophie until that disaster in the Place Louis XV. I thought when my father knew that I was going to have a child he would have arranged the marriage with Charles.’
‘The child … ’
‘Don’t be so innocent, Lottie. Charles saw us both at the fortune-tellers, didn’t he? He always used to say he liked us both and he didn’t know which one he preferred. He used to take me to those rooms which Madame Rougemont let to gentlemen and their friends. I was glad when I knew I was going to have a child. I was silly enough to think that it would make all the difference, that my father would acknowledge me and Charles would marry me. But what did they do to me? They made Tante Berthe take me away and they found a crude farmer husband for me. I shall never forget or forgive. After that I hated the Comte and all he stood for.’
I was so shocked I could only mutter. ‘Yet you wanted more than anything to be part of it!’
‘I hated it, I tell you. I met Léon when he was talking in the town near us. We became friends. My husband died when the mob led by Léon set fire to his granaries … ’
‘So that was done … by Léon!’
She lifted her shoulders and gave me that smile which I was beginning to dread and fear.
‘You are very innocent, Lottie. You would have
done so much better to marry your Dickon when you had a chance. He made things uncomfortable for us. He was too clever, wasn’t he? But he is far away now.’
I said slowly: ‘Blanchard was the man you said was a groom lent by your neighbours.’ I was remembering the incident in the stable when I thought I had seen him before. I had been right in that.
‘Of course. Léon thought I could do good work at the château. Besides, it was a home for me and your husband’s son. I wonder you never saw the likeness. I could see it. Every day he reminded me of Charles. But it did not occur to you, did it, dear innocent sister.’
‘Remember, you are not my sister. Lisette, how could you lie to us … all those years? How could you pretend?’
She wrinkled her brows as though trying to think. Then she said: ‘I don’t know. I was so fond of you sometimes. Then I would think of all you had and that we were sisters and how unfair it was. Then I hated you. Then I forgot it and was fond of you again. It doesn’t matter now.’
‘And you knew that Armand was in the Bastille?’
‘Léon did not tell me everything … only what it was necessary for me to know. But I guessed and I wasn’t sorry. Armand deserved what he got. He always looked down on me—he was always the high and mighty Vicomte. It is amusing to think of him in prison.’
‘How can you talk like that!’
‘Easily,’ said Lisette. ‘If you had been humiliated as I have been you would be the same.’
‘And Léon Blanchard told you he was going to be in the town today?’
She nodded. ‘I wanted you to see and hear him. I wanted you to know how things were. I have been longing to tell you for so long. I wanted you to know that I was your sister.’
Tante Berthe had come into the room. She said: ‘There is nothing much left in the kitchens. I have made a little soup. What is the matter?’
I said: ‘We have been into town. Léon Blanchard was there preaching revolution. They will be coming to the château.’
Tante Berthe turned pale. ‘Mon Dieu,’ she murmured.
Lisette said: ‘Lottie has been telling me a tale. She says I am not the Comte’s daughter. As if I did not always know I was. She says the Comte did not know me until I was three or four years old. It isn’t true, is it? It isn’t true?’
Tante Berthe looked steadily at Lisette. She said: ‘The Comte took you in because he was a good and kind gentleman. You and I owe him much. But he was not your father. Your father was the son of a tradesman and he worked in his father’s shop. Your mother told me this before you were born when I came to Paris to try to persuade her to return home. She couldn’t, of course, as she was to have a child. I helped her through her confinement. She insisted on keeping you and this she tried to do through her needlework. She couldn’t make ends meet and started having gentlemen friends who helped her to pay the rent and feed her child.’
‘You mean she was a … prostitute!’
‘No, no,’ cried Tante Berthe fiercely. ‘She only had friends whom she liked … and they helped her because they wanted to. The Comte was one of them. When she knew herself to be dying she asked me to come to her. She wanted me to take care of you. The Comte called when I was there. He was concerned about your mother’s health and he talked to me about the future. He told me that when he had visited her he had discovered that she had a little girl hidden away. He was touched by this. He thought your mother a brave woman. When she died he offered me the post of housekeeper to the château and allowed me to bring you with me.’
‘Lies!’ cried Lisette. ‘All lies!’
‘It’s the truth,’ said Tante Berthe. ‘I swear it in the name of the Virgin.’
Lisette looked as though she were going to burst into tears. I knew that the dream of a lifetime was crumbling about her.
She went on shouting: ‘It is lies … All lies.’
The door opened and Sophie came in.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said. ‘I could hear the shouting in Armand’s room.’
‘Sophie,’ I said, ‘we are in acute danger. The mob will come to the château at dusk. Léon Blanchard is bringing them.’
‘Léon … !’
I said gently: ‘What Dickon suspected was true. Léon Blanchard was not a real tutor. He was here to spy for the Orléanists. The Duc de Soissonson was one of them, too. We have just heard him inciting the mob to march on the château. When he comes with them you will see for yourself.’
‘Léon?’ she repeated in a dazed way.
‘Oh Sophie,’ I said. ‘There has been such deceit. Terrible things are happening everywhere in France. How can we know who is with us and who against us?’
‘I don’t believe that Léon … ’ she began and Lisette began to laugh hysterically.
‘Then I’ll tell you,’ she said. ‘Léon brought me to Lottie. He was my lover before that and when we were here … and still is. You see, even though your father acknowledged you as his daughter, you did not have all your own way. Léon, whom you wanted, was my lover. Charles, who was Lottie’s husband, was my lover. He wasn’t so particular in the bedroom whether my father called me daughter or not. But I am the Comte’s daughter. They are going to try to prove that I was not, but I am, I tell you. I am. I am of noble birth … as noble as either of you. We all have the same father … no matter what anyone says.’
Sophie was looking at me helplessly. I went to her and put my arm about her.
‘It’s true isn’t it,’ she said, ‘that Léon cared about me? He did care a little.’
‘He was here on a mission,’ I said.
‘But he was in love with Lisette all the time. He was only pretending … ’
‘People do pretend sometimes, Sophie. We were all deceived.’
‘And I blamed you. I blamed you for making up tales about him … tales which were not true. I said your lover murdered Armand that you might have my father’s wealth. I said all this of you, Lottie, and I tried to believe it, but I think something inside me rejected it. I didn’t really believe it. Perhaps I always knew that Léon could not have cared for me. It was the same with Charles. When I found that flower in his apartment I started to hate you.’
‘I was never there, Sophie. I lost the flower he bought for me. It was not my flower you found.’
‘What is all this about a flower?’ asked Lisette.
I turned to her. ‘What does it matter now? It was all long ago. Charles bought a flower for me in the street and Sophie found one like it in his bedroom.’
‘A red peony,’ said Lisette. Then she started to laugh. There was an element of hysteria in that laugh. ‘It was I who left the flower behind, Sophie. I dropped it in Charles’s apartment. I borrowed it from Lottie’s room because it matched my dress, I remember. I forgot about it. It was only an artificial flower anyway. It is proof to you, Sophie, that he was my lover. I had his child, you know. Yes, Louis-Charles is his son.’
‘Stop it, Lisette,’ I cried. ‘Stop it.’
‘Why should I? This is the moment of truth. Let us stop deceiving ourselves. Let us all show what we really are.’
The tears were running down Sophie’s cheeks making her hood wet. I put my arms round her and she clung to me.
‘Forgive, Lottie,’ she said. ‘Forgive … ’
I said: ‘When people know they understand. There is nothing to forgive, Sophie.’ I kissed her scarred cheek. ‘Dear Sophie,’ I said, ‘I am glad we are sisters again.’
Lisette and Tante Berthe watched us. Tante Berthe’s practical mind was trying to work out what we should do. Lisette still seemed bemused.
‘You should really get out,’ said Tante Berthe. ‘Perhaps we all should. You certainly, Madame Lottie.’
‘And what of the men?’ I asked.
‘We can’t move them.’
‘I shall stay here,’ I said.
Tante Berthe shook her head and Lisette said: ‘You and I have nothing to fear, Tante Berthe. You are a servant and although I am aristocrat Léon Blanchard is
my friend. He will see that I am safe.’
‘Be silent’, cried Tante Berthe. She shook her head and turned away muttering: ‘What is best? What can be done?’
‘There is nothing,’ I replied, ‘but to wait.’
We waited through the long afternoon. The heat was intense. It seemed to me that I was seeing everything with especial clarity. Perhaps that was how it was when one looked Death in the face. I had seen the mob at Léon Blanchard’s meeting and could picture those people marching on the château with the bloodlust in their eyes. I thought of my mother’s stepping out of the shop and finding herself in the midst of such a crowd. I pictured the carriage as I had so often before. I saw the frightened horses. What had she felt in those horrific moments? I had heard of the people’s violence when they had smashed up the town and I knew that human life meant little to them. And as the daughter of the Comte d’Aubigné I was one of the enemy. I had heard that they had hanged one of the merchants from a lamp-post because they said he had put up the price of bread.
I had never before come face to face with death; but I knew that I was facing it now. I was aware of a light-headedness. I felt strangely remote. Fear was there, yes, but not fear of death but of what must happen before it. I knew now how people felt in their condemned cells awaiting the summons.
I looked at the others. Did they feel the same? Armand was too ill to care. He had suffered so much already. His companion was in the same condition. Sophie? I did not think she cared very much. Life was not very precious to her, though she had changed since Armand’s return.
Lisette? I could not understand Lisette. All those years when I had believed her to be my friend she had harboured a hatred of me. I would never forget the triumphant look in her eyes when she considered how I should be made to suffer. I could not believe that she had really hated me all those years because I was recognized as the Comte’s daughter and she thought she should be.
What did I know of Lisette? What did I know of anyone, even myself? People were made up of contradictions and when one nurtures a great grievance through life that must have a lasting effect. Least of all I understood Lisette. Why did she care so much for birth? She was on the side of the revolutionaries. She hated the aristocrats and yet she insisted she was one of them.
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