Jane Feather - Charade by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

that flight had been far from his mind. Whathad been on his mind was that in the seclusion of St. Cloud he would beable to celebrate Easter under the auspices of a non-juror priest andthe public would be none the wiser. Instead, the people of Paris hadseen only treachery. Eventually the royal family was forced to returnto their rooms in the Tuileries.

St. Estephe slipped from the courtyard. There was no longer any doubtbut that the king and queen of France were prisoners; the last shredsof pretense had been torn away by the events of this day. Knowing MarieAntoinette as he now did, the

comte

was in no doubt that she would workto perfect her plans for escape, sure in the knowledge that there wasno alternative.

The plan would fail, St. Estephe decided, and he would do his part inensuring that it did. And when it failed his own path would be clear.There would be no further need for duplicity— courting the queen,listening in patient attention to the complaints, the elaborate plans,reporting in secret to the committee. The reign of the Bourbons wouldbe over and the sovereignty of the people absolute. At that point hewould cast in his lot with the power-makers, consolidate his position,and find an official reason to visit London. He would offer hisservices to the chevalier and the Countess of Linton and by so doingachieve a double purpose—the trust of the young countess and valuableinformation for his government.

Nearly two months later the flight took place. St. Estephe, to hisfury, was left at the starting gate. He

had thought he was in thequeen's total confidence but realized that he had merely been used as auseful subject on the far outskirts of the

coterie.

The fact that he had not known the details or the timing of the escapeplan would not increase his status with the committee.

The plan was elaborate, circumventing the care of the Paris commune,alerted through St. Estephe via one of the queen's maids that anattempt at escape was imminent. The mayor of Paris and the commandantof the palace guard were spending the night of June 20 in theTuileries. Guards were posted throughout, but in the southeast cornerof the palace there was one door left unwatched. It led directly by anunlighted passage to the royal apartments. The children, Madame Royale,and the dauphin, who was disguised as a girl, made their escape first.The king, dressed in gray coat and wig, impersonating a valet, followedsome forty-five minutes later from the Petit Carousel at the north endof the Tuileries. At midnight, the queen appeared, dressed as agoverness, and the journey began.

Twenty-four hours later it ended in ignominy at Varennes. The royalfamily were turned back and returned to Paris under escort, the thirdtime in two years that Louis had been brought back as a prisoner to hiscapital.

The course of the revolution was finally set. Danielle, playing withher month-old baby on a rug beneath

a spreading beach tree atDanesbury, heard D'Evron's account of the declaration of martiallaw—the massacre of the Champs de Mars when defenseless civilians werefired upon for no apparent reason by cavalry, artillery, and infantry,and the subsequent denunciations, arrests, and imprisonments in thename of public safety Paris was now a panic-stricken city of hardfaced, rebellious people who had lost all faith in their king and alltrust in a National Assembly that could decree martial law and murderthe people.

The word "Republic" was on everyone's lips. The stage wasset for the rule of the mob and the Reign

of Terror.

"It is beginning then," Danielle said, absently tickling littleNicholas with a long stalk of grass. "The mob

is a fearsome many-headedhydra when aroused. We shall have much work to do soon, chevalier." Shefrowned, biting her lower lip. "Our own kind will begin to flee indroves. There will be no safety for them when the people declare arepublic."

"They have not done so yet, Danny," Linton reminded her.

There was something about that frown that made him distinctly uneasy.

"No, but they will," she said with quiet conviction. "It is only amatter of time. If it could be established without blood, a republicwould be for the best, I think. The people have suffered too long underthe ancien regime, but it will not happen peacefully and much as Idespise many of my own kind, I cannot

sit by and watch their slaughter."

Linton sighed. "You are not, I hope, proposing to visit Paris yourselfand halt the progress of this horror with your little finger? Not thatI don't think you could do it," he added with a grin. "The mere sightof you would turn Robespierre into a purring kitten."

The chevalier chuckled, but Danielle said somberly, "I do not considerit a laughing matter. You forget, perhaps, what I have seen."

The warm summer afternoon seemed to take on a chill and even thepeaceful droning of the honey bees seemed to pause. The baby's facecrumpled and he let out a loud wail. "Ah,

tu as laim, mon petit.

"Danielle lifted him up and rose to her feet. "I must feed him at once."She hurried across the lawn toward the mellow, timbered Elizabethanhouse, soothing the child's wails with promises of imminentsatisfaction.

Justin watched her, smiling slightly. His son never had the opportunityto exercise his lungs since the smallest expression of need wasinstantly answered. As a result, the little viscount was plump andsunny tempered in his solipsistic world. But since he was rarely out ofhis mother's arms, Justin strongly suspected that they were in fortrouble when they returned to London and Danielle found it impossible

to be all and everything to the child for twenty-four hours a day.

"I do not think motherhood has changed her very much," the chevalierobserved with the ease of friendship. "I would not put it past her toconfront Robespierre and Danton."

"Neither would I, my friend. But if you can contrive to keep hersufficiently busy in London, we may perhaps avert my having to resistsuch a