Part 58 (1/2)

Suddenly, the quick steps of several men were heard in the corridor.

The bolts flew back, the doors were opened, and six officials came in.

”We are come,” cried one of them, with a brutal voice, ”to announce to you the order of the committee, that the son of Capet be separated from his mother and his family.”

At these words the queen rose, pale with horror ”They are going to take my child from me!” she cried. ”No, no, that is not possible.

Gentlemen, the authorities cannot think of separating me from my son. He is still so young and weak, he needs my care.”

”The committee has come to this determination,” answered the official, ”the Convention has confirmed it, and we shall carry it into execution directly.”

”I cannot allow it,” cried Marie Antoinette in desperation. ”In the name of Heaven, I conjure you not to be so cruel!”

Elizabeth and Theresa mingled their tears with those of the mother.

All three had placed themselves before the bed of the dauphin; they clung to it, they folded their hands, they sobbed; the most touching cries, the most humble prayers trembled on their lips, but the guards were not at all moved.

”What is all this whining for?” they said. ”No one is going to kill your child; give him to us of your own free will, or we shall have to take him by force.”

They strode up to the bed. Marie Antoinette placed herself with extended arms before it, and held the curtain firmly; it however detached itself from the wall and fell upon the face of the dauphin.

He awoke, saw what was going on, and threw himself with loud shrieks into the arms of the queen. ”Mamma, dear Mamma, do not leave me!”

She pressed him trembling to her bosom, quieted him, and defended him against the cruel hands that were reached out for him.

In vain, all in vain! The men of the republic have no compa.s.sion on the grief of a mother! ”By free will or by force he must go with us.”

”Then promise me at least that he shall remain in the tower of the Temple, that I may see him every day.”

”We have nothing to promise you, we have no account at all to give you. Parbleu, how can you take on and howl so, merely because your child is taken from you? Our children have to do more than that.

They have every day to have their heads split open with the b.a.l.l.s of the enemies that you have set upon them.”

”My son is still too young to be able to serve his country,” said the queen, gently, ”but I hope that if G.o.d permits it, he will some day be proud to devote his life to Him.”

Meanwhile the two princesses, urged on by the officials, had clothed the gasping, sobbing boy. The queen now saw that no more hope remained. She sank upon a chair, and summoning all her strength, she called the dauphin to herself, laid her hands upon his shoulders, and pale, immovable, with widely-opened eyes, whose burning lids were cooled by no tear, she gazed upon the quivering face of the boy, who had fixed his great blue eyes, swimming with tears, upon the countenance of his mother.

”My child,” said the queen, solemnly, ”we must part. Remember your duties when I am no more with you to remind you of them. Never forget the good G.o.d who is proving you, and your mother who is praying for you. Be good and patient, and your Father in heaven will bless you.”

She bent over, and with her cold lips pressed a kiss upon the forehead of her son, then gently pushed him toward the turnkey. But the boy sprang back to her again, clung to her with his arms, and would not go.

”My son, we must obey. G.o.d wills it so.” A loud, savage laugh was heard. Shuddering, the queen turned around. There at the open door stood Simon, and with him his wife, their hard features turned maliciously toward the pale queen. The woman stretched out her brown, bare arms to the child, grasped him, and pushed him before her to the door.

”Is she to have him?” shrieked Marie Antoinette. ”Is my son to remain with this woman?”

”Yes,” said Simon, with a grinning smile, as he put himself, with his arms akimbo, before the queen--” yes, with this woman and with me, her husband, little Capet is to remain, and I tell you he shall receive a royal education. We shall teach him to forget the past, and only to remember that he is a child of the one and indivisible republic. If he does not come to it, he must be brought to it, and my old cobbler's straps will be good helpers in this matter.”

He nodded at Marie Antoinette with a fiendish smile, and then followed the officials, who had already gone out. The doors were closed again, the bolts drawn, and within the chamber reigned the stillness of death. The two women put their arms around one another, kneeled upon the floor and prayed.

From this day on, Marie Antoinette had no hope more; her heart was broken. Whole days long she sat fixed and immovable, without paying any regard to the tender words of her sister-in-law and the caresses of her daughter, without working, reading, or busying herself in any way. Formerly she had helped to put the rooms in order, and mend the clothes and linen; now she let the two princesses do this alone and serve her.

Only for a few hours each day did her countenance lighten at all, and the power of motion return to this pale, marble figure. Those were the hours when she waited for her son, as he went with Simon every day to the upper story and the platform of the tower. She would then put her head to the door and listen to every step and all the words that he directed to the turnkey as he pa.s.sed by.