Part 20 (1/2)

”Drink a toast to the G.o.ddess!” cried the revelers, offering the winecup to the victims.

”Curses on them!” said others. ”Death is too good for vile aristocrats.”

”Tra-la-la-la!” sang drunken wenches, ”La Guillotine will soon hold ye in her sharp embrace--”

The blasphemy of burlesquing a far greater Scene of Sorrows occurred to drunken Carmagnole dancers. The notion was applauded, carried into effect at once.

A tall sansculotte reached over betwixt the guards and placed a Crown of Thorns on the girl's brow. Another dashed a cupful of vinegar in the girl's face.

”Can't you see she's helpless?” said a centurion, pointing to her pinioned arms. He yanked off the chaplet and threw it back in the crowd. They roared with merriment at the farce....

But, in the stable yard of the Northern cavalry, Danton from a horseblock was addressing the fiery spirits who knew and loved him.

”Will you dare with Danton?” he cried. ”Will you risk Death to open a Nation's eyes?”

The head Cavalryman embraced the Thunderer and kissed him on both cheeks.

”We are with you to the last man--to the last ounce of our strength to save this girl and boy!” he said while the others cheered.

Danton had got a gallant white mount, the Captain was on a n.o.ble black Arabian charger; the others had leaped astride their ever ready army steeds--the ride with the reprieve was in full course!

CHAPTER XXVII

THE FAREWELL

Louise, guided by her faithful attendant Pierre, had left the courtroom directly after the condemnation. Leaning heavily upon him, the blind girl had staggered out, or pressed by the awful knowledge that her sister Henriette was doomed to die. ”Oh, take me to her!” she had cried.

There was only one thing to do: to follow the route of the death tumbrils, in the slight hope of overtaking her. The crippled Pierre could not walk fast, and the steps of Louise had to be most carefully directed. Now and again Pierre could see the death carts a long way ahead, he tried to hasten their steps, but presently the transports of death were out of sight again.

A traffic tie-up and street delay that halted the tumbrils just beyond the scene of the baccha.n.a.lian Feast of Reason, gave them their opportunity. Here the revelers had burlesqued Henriette as the ”Woman of Sorrows,” and here the guardsman had thrown off the chaplet and rebuked the crowd.

During the halt Pierre and his companion came up with what speed they could; he led Louise to the back of the death cart, and placed her hands on the bound and standing figure of poor little Henriette.

”It is your sister!” said Pierre softly.

Gently the blind girl's fingers traveled up to the wet face of her little foster-mother, now bending towards her. With a handkerchief Louise tenderly wiped it, her fingers gave loving little pats of the heaving neck and bosom, she kissed the stained cheeks, and then the girls' lips met--met long and pa.s.sionately! No words were spoken, none was needed for a reunion that was also a farewell.

The cart moved. The loving lips were parted. Now one might see Louise's imploring arms still held out toward the sad receding little figure.

It was indeed a busy day for the executioners. Batches of men and women preceded Henriette and Maurice. Two of these were beautiful young girls who, in default of priest, were saying the last offices of the Church as they knelt on the bare ground. In tragic glory Faith's clear credo rang out: ”_I am the Resurrection and the Life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live!_”

Their lovely heads dropped in the basket as the knitting women clicked their needles and cried ”Two!” Henriette, with a physical retch at the sight, fell back half-fainting on Maurice. Roughly the soldiers yanked them asunder.

”Citizeness, your time is come!” said one of the brawny butchers. He half led, half supported her up the steps of the guillotine....

The Chief executioner turned Henriette about, inspecting her fine points as an equine connoisseur would inspect a filly. He gloated over her not yet budded form, the swan-like neck, unlined piquant features, the golden head-curls that fell in ringlets.