Part 46 (1/2)
”So it seems; it does not wet that sort.”
”They must be hungry.”
”Not at all. They have each his or her bottle of drink; besides, they roasted and ate our comrade's horse that they shot by the light of their bonfire. It was looking on at a cannibal's feast to see them dancing round it, men and women.”
”More so had it been an a.s.s's carcase, perhaps.”
”Say a wolf's. If there is a breed of human wolves, I have had it proved to me to-night. The difference between these and the kind in the Menagerie is that it is we who are within the bars.”
”You need not offer the breed as a novelty; I saw plenty of them at Eaux Tranquilles.”
The speakers were Grancey and Germain. The Baron's face was full of indignation; Lecour's of platonic contempt.
The door of the Hall of the King's Guards opened, and the sentinels saluted for a Duke, while the Prince of Luxembourg entered. The Guards who were awake aroused their comrades. All sprang to their arms and saluted.
”Gentlemen,” said the Prince, ”you will be glad to know that his Majesty has such trust in your faithfulness that he is sleeping as quietly as usual.”
A shout of ”Vive le Roi!” arose.
The Prince withdrew. From the opposite door--that of the Hall of the Queen, now came out Monsieur d'Aguesseau, Mayor of the Guard, who was making the disposition of sentries.
The contingent, who were still standing, turned to him with looks of anxiety, and Lecour, as spokesman for the rest, said respectfully--
”How sleeps the Queen?”
”Her Majesty, alas! does not sleep. She starts up continually, haunted by the foul insults of yesterday and the immense unmerited hatred of the people of France. What a load for a woman to bear!”
The cry of ”Vive la Reine!” which had been ready went forth only as a low murmur.
”Gentlemen,” said d'Aguesseau, ”our duty may be grave before long.
General Lafayette has, it is true, a.s.sumed the external defence of the Palace with the National Guard of Paris. At the same time, we must remember that that Guard are now scattered among the churches of the town and fast asleep, while the invaders are a countless mult.i.tude at our doors, and we but a handful. On us depend, as on a thread, the lives of our King and Queen and of all these helpless persons of the household. Remember, sirs, that your time to die, the soldier's hour of glory, may now have come.”
A shoot of ”Vive le Roi!” from every throat was again the response. It echoed through the windows across the Court of Marble and down the Great Staircase. It was memorable as the last loyal cry of the household of Versailles.
”The hour has arrived to change guard,” Mayor d'Aguesseau went on. ”Will you, Monsieur de Lincy, take command in the Hall of the Queen?”
D'Aguesseau pa.s.sed on to inspect the precautions at other points of the Palace.
No sooner had he left than the men disposed themselves with serious faces for active work. A sympathetic feeling of devotion displayed itself. Suddenly Des Huttes, the best voice in the company of Noailles, struck up solemnly that tender reminiscence from the opera of ”Richard Coeur de Lion”--
”Oh, Richard, oh my King, the world forsaketh thee,”
and the Bodyguards, overcome with emotion, one and all stood still with bended heads.
It was then about three o'clock.
In four hours' more the French Monarchy was to fall and the ancient _regime_ to pa.s.s like a dream. The east wind dashed a terrible gust of rain against the windows and shook their panes like a summons.
”Oh, Richard, oh my King, the world forsaketh thee,” haunted Germain as he paced the Hall of the Queen's Guards. Recent political events connected with the drawing up of a national const.i.tution, and the hunger of the poor, which they naturally blamed on those in power, had, he knew, raised deep animosity towards Louis XVI. and the Queen. Her thoughtless life of gaiety in past days, and the greedy demands of her friends the Polignacs, had made her particularly the mark of venomous hate. As d'Aguesseau said, ”what a load for a woman to bear!” The thought raised in Lecour the deepest pity. Opposite him was the door of the first antechamber, called the Grand Couvert, where had posted Varicourt, and within it some dozen others. There Varicourt stood, handsome and elegantly uniformed, at that beautiful door in that fine hall. Yet behind all this elegance what misery! The Canadian could not suppress the vision of the tortured Queen starting out of her sleep in her chamber a few paces away. This suffering woman was in his charge--he must be loyal to her and lay down his life before hers should be taken.