Part 74 (1/2)
”I have been silent about the past, as I have been commanded to,” he said, ”but I have not forgotten it.”
”Do you remember your mother?” asked the prince.
The boy trembled convulsively, a glowing red pa.s.sed over his cheeks, and a deep paleness followed.
”Monsieur,” he asked, with a tremulous voice, ”would it be possible for me to forget my dear mamma queen?--my mamma queen who loved her little Louis Charles so much? Ah, sir, you would not have asked that if you had known how much pain you give me.”
”I beg your pardon,” said the prince, embarra.s.sed. ”I see you remember. But let me try you once more. Will you tell me what happened to you after being taken away from your cruel foster- parents? What were those people's names, and what were they?”
”My foster-parents, or my tormentors rather, were called Mr. and Mistress Simon. The man had been a cobbler, but afterward he was superintendent and turnkey in the Temple, and when I was taken away from my mamma, sister, and aunt, I had to live with these dreadful people.”
”Did you fare badly there?”
”Very badly, sir; I was scolded and ill-treated, and the worst of all was that they wanted to compel me to sing ribald songs about my mamma queen.”
”But you did not sing these songs?” asked the Prince de Conde.
The eyes of the boy flamed. ”No,” he said, proudly, ”I did not sing them. They might have beaten me to death. I would rather have died than have done it,”
The prince nodded approvingly. ”And how did you escape from these people?” he asked.
”You know, Prince de Conde,” answered the boy, smiling. ”It is you who helped me escape.”
”Tell me about this matter a little,” said the prince, ”and how you have fared since then. I contributed, as you suppose, to your release, but I was not present In person. How did you escape from the Temple?”
”I was put into a basket with soiled clothes, which Mistress Simon was taking away with her from the Temple. This basket she gave to a washerwoman who was waiting for us at the Macon gate. She had a little donkey-cart in readiness there, the basket was put into it, and went on to a village, the name of which I do not know. There we stopped; I was taken out of the basket and carried into a house, where we remained a few hours to rest and change our clothes.”
”We? Whom do you mean by we?”
”Me and the supposed washerwoman,” replied the boy. ”This woman was, however, no other than M. de Jarjayes, whom I knew long ago, and who, with Fidele--I should say, with Toulan--had thought out and executed the plan of my escape. M. de Jarjayes changed his clothes, as did I also, and after remaining concealed in the house all day, in the evening we took a carriage and rode all night. On the next day we remained concealed in some house, and in the night we continued our journey.”
”Did he tell you where you were going?”
”Jarjayes told me that the Prince de Conde was my protector and deliverer, that the magnanimous prince had furnished the necessary money, and that I should remain concealed in one of his palaces till the time should arrive to acknowledge me publicly. Till then, said M. de Jarjayes to me, I was never to speak of the past, nor disclose--single word about any thing that concerned myself or my family. He told me that if I did not follow his instructions literally, I should not only be brought back to Simon, but I should have to bear the blame of causing the death of my sister Therese and my aunt Elizabeth. You can understand, my prince, that after that I was dumb.”
”Yes. I understand. Where did M. de Jarjayes carry you?”
”To one of the palaces of the Prince de Conde in loyal and beautiful Vendee. Ah, it was very delightful there, and there were very pleasant people about me. The story was that I was a nephew of the prince, and that on account of impaired health, I was obliged to go into the country and must be tended with great care. I had a preceptor there who gave me instruction, and sometimes the brave General Charette came to the palace on a visit. He was always very polite to me, and showed me all kinds of attention. One day he asked me to walk with him in the park. I did so, of course, and just as we entered a dark allee he fell upon his knees, called me majesty, said he knew very well that I was the King of France, and that the n.o.ble and loyal Prince de Conde had rescued me from prison.”
”The devil!” muttered the prince to himself, ”our dear friends are always our worst enemies.”
The boy paid no attention to the words of Conde, and went on: ”The general conjured me to confess to him that I was the son of King Louis, and I should follow him, remain with his little army, which would acknowledge me at once, and proclaim me King of France.”
”And what did you answer?” asked Conde, eagerly.
”My lord,” replied the boy, with proud, grave mien, ”I told you that, I gave my word to M. de Jarjayes to divulge nothing till you should tell me that the right time had arrived. I could therefore confess nothing to Charette, and told him that he had fallen into a great error, and that I have and can lay claim to no other honor than of being the nephew of the Prince de Conde.”
”You said that?” asked Conde, in amazement.
The boy raised his head with a quick movement, and something of the proud and fiery nature of Louis XIV. flashed in his eyes.
”I did not know then,” he replied, ”that my relations.h.i.+p to the Prince de Conde was not agreeable to him.”