Taking the Bastile (56 page)

It was, in fact, the dead body of the unfortunate young man, whom his brother had ordered to allow himself to be killed rather than that the queen should be approached 1 He had punctually obeyed.

A FEW hours after the cry of terror which the queen had uttered, and at the moment when, with the king and her children, she was about to leave Versailles, where she was never to return, the following scene took place in an interior courtyard, damp from the rain, and which a sharp autumnal wind had begun to dry. A man dressed in black was leaning over a dead body. A man dressed in the uniform of the Royal Guards was kneeling on the opposite side of this body. At three paces from them a third person was standing, with clasped hands and fixed eyes, gazing intently at them. The dead body was that of a young man of from twenty-two to twenty-three years of age, the whole of whose blood appeared to have escaped through large wounds in his head and chest. His chest was scarred with frightful gashes, the skin surrounding them was of a livid white; it appeared still to heave with the disdainful breathings of a hopeless defence.

The man dressed in black was Gilbert. The officer on

GEORGE DE CHARNY 36^

his knees was the Count de Charny. The man standing near them was Billot. The corpse was that of the Baron George de Charny. Gilbert, leaning over the body, gazed at it with that sublime intentness which with the dying retains life when about to escape, and with the dead almost recalls the soul which has taken flight.

‘Cold, stiff he is dead positively dead I’ said he at length.

The Count de Charny uttered a hoarse groan, and pressing in his arms the insensible body, burst into sobs, so heartrending, that the doctor shuddered, and Billot ran to hide his head in a corner of the small courtyard.

Then suddenly th count raised the body, placed it against the wall, and slowly withdrew, still looking at it as if he expected that his dead brother would become reanimated and follow him.

Gilbert remained still kneeling on one knee, his head reclining on his hand, pensive and motionless.

Billot then left his dark corner and went up to Gilbert; he no longer heard the count’s sobs, which had torn his heart.

‘Alas 1 alas ! Monsieur Gilbert,’ said he, ‘this, then, is really what we have to expect in civil war, and that which you predicted to me is now happening only it is happening sooner than I expected, and even sooner than you yourself expected. I saw these villains murdering unworthy people; and now I see these villains murdering honest people. I saw them massacre Flesselles; I saw them massacre Monsieur de Launay; I saw Foulon massacred; I saw Berthier massacred. I then shuddered in every limb, and I felt a horror for all men. And yet the men they were then killing were miserable wretches. It was then. Monsieur Gilbert, that you predicted the time would come when they would kill honest people. They have killed the Baron de Charny; I no longer shudder I weep; I have no longer a horror of others I fear I may resemble them.’

‘ Billot 1’ cried Gilbert.

But without li stening, Billot continued : ‘Here is a young man whom they have assassinated, Monsieur Gilbert he was a mere boy he was fairly combating, he was not assassinating, but he has been assassinated.’

Billot heaved a sigh, which seemed to issue from iho bottom of his heart.

370 TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘Ah I the unhappy youth,’ he cried. ‘I knew him when he was a child. I have seen him pass by when he was going from Boursonne to Villers-Cotterfcta on his little gray pony; he was carrying bread to the poor from his mother.

‘Ah ! Monsieur Gilbert, in truth, I believe I have now had enough of It, and do not desire to see anything more; for you predicted this to me. The time will come when I shall also see you die, and then ‘

Gilbert gently shook his head.

‘Billot,’ said he, ‘be calm; my hour has not yet come.’

‘Be it so; but mine has come, doctor. I have a harvest down yonder which has rotted, fields that are lying fallow, a family whom I love ten times more dearly on seeing this dead body, whose family are weepinr for him.’

‘What do you mean to say, my dear Billot? Do yon believe, perchance, that I am going to afflict myself about you?’

‘Oh, no 1’ replied Billot ingenuously; ‘but as I suffer, I complain; and as complaining leads to nothing, I calculate on alleviating my own sufferings in my own way.’

‘Which means to say that ‘

‘It means that I desire to return to my farm, Monsieur Gilbert.’

‘Aain, Billot?’

‘Ah 1 Monsieur Gilbert, there is a voice down yonder which is calling for me.’

‘Take care, Billot; that voice is advising you to desert.’

‘I am not a soldier, and therefore there is no desertion, Monsieur Gilbert.’

‘What you are wishing to do would be a desertion far more culpable than that of a soldier.’

‘Explain that to me, doctor.’

‘How 1 you have come to Paris to demolish; and you would fly as soon as the building is falling.’

‘Yes, that I may not crush my friends.’

‘Or rather, that you may not be crushed yourself.’

‘Why, why I’ replied Billot, ‘it is not forbidden that a man should think a little of himself.’

‘Ah ! that is a magnificent calculation, indeed; as if stones did not roll, as if in rolling they did not crush, and ven at a distance, the timid men who would fly from them.’

GEORGE DE CHARNY 371

‘Oh 1 you are well aware that I am not a timid man. Monsieur Gilbert.’

‘Then you will remain. Billot; I have occasion for you here.’

‘My family also stands in need of me down yonder.’

‘Billot ! Billot ! I thought that you had agreed with me that a man who loves his country has no family.’

‘I should like to know whether you would use the same language if Sebastian lay there, as that young man lies.’

And he pointed to the dead body.

‘Billot,’ replied Gilbert in a hollow tone, ‘the day will arrive when my son shall see me as I now see that body.’

‘So much the worse for him, doctor, if on that day he should be as calm as you are now.’

‘I hope that he will be a better man than I am. Billot, and that he will be firmer still, and precisely because I shall have given him an example of firmness.

‘Then you would have the child accustom himself to see blood flowing around him, that he should in his youthful years acquire the habit of great conflagrations, of gibbets and riots attacks in the dark that he should see kings threatened, queens insulted, and then, when he has become as hard as his sword-blade, and quite as cold, you would still expect that be should love, that he should respect you.’

‘No, I would not have him see all that, Billot; and that is the reason for my sending him back to Viilers-Cotter ets, and which I now almost regret.’

‘How 1 You now regret it? 1

‘Yea.’

‘And why do you now regret?’

‘Because he would this day have seen exemplified the axiom of the lion and the rat, which to him is but a fable. ‘

‘What do you mean to say, Monsieur Gilbert?’

‘I say that he would have seen a poor fanner, whom chance has brought to Paris, a brave and honest man, who can neither read nor write, who never could have believed that his life could have influenced, either for good or evil, the high destinies which he scarcely dared to raise his eyes to I say, that he would have seen that man who had already at one time wished to leave Paris, as he again wishes it I say that he would have seen this man contribute efficaciously to save the life of a king, a queen, and two royal children,’

3?2 TAKING THE BASTILLE

Billot stared at Gilbert with astonished eyes.

‘ And how so, Monsieur Gilbert ? ‘ says he.

‘How so 1 you sublimely ignorant fellow. I will tell you how. By waking at the first noise that was made; by guessing that this noise was a tempest ready to burst upon Versailles; by running to wake up Monsieur Lafayette for Monsieur Lafayette was asleep.’

‘Zounds i that was perfectly natural, for he had been twelve hours on horseback, and for twenty-four hours he had not been in bed.’

‘By leading him to the palace,’ continued Gilbert, ‘and by bringing him at once into the midst of the assassins and crying : ” Stop, wretches, here is the avenger 1 ” ‘

‘“Well, now, that is really true I did all that.’

‘Well, then, Billot, you see that thia is a great compensation. If you did not prevent thia young man being assassinated, you have perhaps prevented the assassination of the king, the queen, and the two children. Ungrateful man 1 and you ask to leave the service of the country at the very moment when the country recompenses you.’

‘But who will ever know what I have done, since I myself even had no idea of it?’

‘You and I, Billot and is not that enough?’

Billot reflected for a moment, then, holding out his rough hand to the doctor, ‘I declare you are right, Monsieur Gilbert,’ said he; ‘but you know that a man is but a weak, egotistical, inconstant creature. There is but you, Monsieur Gilbert, who is firm, generous, and constant. What is it that has made you so ?

‘Misfortune,’ said Gilbert, with a smile, in which there was more sorrow than in a sob.

“That is singular,’ said Billot; ‘I had thought that misfortune made men wicked.’

‘The weak; yes.’

‘And I should be unfortunate and become wicked.’

‘You may, perhaps, be unfortunate; but you will never become wicked. Billot.’

‘In that case,’ said Billot, sighing, ‘I will remain with you; but more than once I know I shall again be vacillating.’

‘And every time it happens, Billot, I shall be near you to sustain your firmness.

JOURNEY OF PITOU AND SEBASTIAN 373 CHAPTER XLIX

JOURNEY OF PITOU AND SEBASTIAN GILBERT

WE have seen, under circumstances long anterior to those we have now related, the departure of Pitou and Sebastian Gilbert. Gilbert had commissioned Pitou to go to the College Louis le Grand and to bring Sebastian to him. For this purpose they put Pitou into a hackney coach, and as they had confided Sebastian to Pitou, they confided Pitou to the care of the coachman. In about an hour the coach brought back Pitou. Gilbert and Billot were waiting for them in an apartment which they had taken in the Rue St Honore, a little above the Church of the Assumption. Gilbert explained to bis son that he was to set out the same evening with Pitou, and asked him whether he would not be well pleased to return to the great woods he so much loved.

‘Yes, father,’ replied the boy, ‘provided that you will come to see me at Villers-Cotterftts, or that you allow me to come to see you at Paris.’

‘You may be easy on that score, my child,’ replied Gilbert, kissing his son’s forehead; ‘you know that now I shall never be happy when away from you.’

As to Pitou,. he coloured with delight at the idea 01 setting out the same evening. He turned pale with happiness when Gilbert placed, within one of his, both Sebastian’s hands, and in the other ten double louis, of the value of forty-eight livres each. A long series of-instructions, almost all regarding the health of his companion, were given by the doctor to Pitou, to which he religiously listened. Sebastian cast down his large eyes to conceal his tears. Pitou was weighing and jingling his louis in his immense pocket. Gilbert gave a letter to Pitou, who was thus installed in his functions, pro tern., of tutor. This letter was for the Abbe Fortier.

The doctor’s harangue being terminated, Billot spoke in his turn. ‘Monsieur Gilbert,’ said he, ‘has confided to you the health of Sebastian; I will confide to y~u his personal safety. You have a pair of stout fists in case of need; make good ise of them.’

‘Yes said Pitou; and, besides them, I have a sabre.’

‘Do not make an abuse of that.’

374 TAKING THE BASTILLE

‘And now,’ said Gilbert, ‘I will point out to you the way in which Sebastian should travel.’

‘Oh I’ cried Pitou, ‘it is only eighteen leagues from Paris to Villert-Cotterets; we mil talk all the way, Sebastian and I.’

Sebastian looked at his father, as if to ask him whether it would be very amusing to talk during the journey of eighteen leagues with Pi ton. Pitou caught this glance.

‘We wiD speak Latin,’ said he, ‘and we shall be taken for learned men.’ This was the dream of his ambition, the innocent creature.

Thus the affair was settled. They resolved, in consequence, not to make any change in Pitou’B plan, which promised, without exposing him to too mucn fatigue, a journey replete with amusement to Sebastian; but it was decided they should not commence it until the following morning. Gilbert might have sent his son to Villers-Cotterits by one of the public conveyances, which at that period were running between Paris and the frontiers, or even in his own carriage; but we know how much he feared the isolation oi thought for young Sebastian, and nothing so much isolates dreaming people as the motion and rumbling noise of a carriage. He therefore took the two young travellers as far as Bourget, and then, showing them the open road, on which a brilliant sun was shining, he embraced bis son again, and, opening his arms, said, ‘Now go I’

Pitou therefore set off, leading Sebastian, who several times turned round to blow kisses to his father, who was standing, his arms crossed, upon the spot where he had taken leave of his son, following him with his eyes, as if he were following a dream.

Piton raised himself to the full height of his extraordinary stature. Pitou was very proud of the confidence reposed in him by a person of M. Gilbert’s importance, one of the kiag’s physicians-in-ordinary. Moreover, it was with full confidence in himself that he was conducting little Sebastian; he travelled very quietly, passing through villages which were all in commotion and terror since the events at Paris, which had only just occurred; for although we have brought up these events to the 3th and 6th October, it must be remembered that it was towards the mid of July or the beginning of August that Pitou and

JOURNEY OF PITOU AND SEBASTIAN 375

Sebastian left Paris. Besides this, Pitou had retained his helmet for a head-drees, and his long sabre as a defensive weapon. These were all that he had gained by the events of the I3th and 14th July; but this two-fold trophy, satisfied his ambition, and by giving him a formidable air, at the same time sufficed for his safety. Pitou had, in addition to this, become somewhat of an advocate. No one could have listened to the resolutions passed at the Hotel de Ville, to the orations of M. Bailly, the harangues of M. de Lafayette, without becoming somewhat of an orator; above all, if he had already studied the Latin Condones, of which French eloquence at the close of the eighteenth century was rather a pale, though a tolerably correct, imitation. Furnished with these two powerful modes of argument, to which two vigorous fists were no mean adjuncts, and possessing a rare amenity of smile and a most interesting appetite, Pitou journeyed on agreeably 4 towards Villers-Cotterdts. For the curious in politics he had news, besides which he could manufacture them in case of need, having resided in Paris, where, from that period, their fabrication has been always remarkable. His inexhaustible fancy procured for him an uninterrupted succession of excellent repasts, until he arrived at Vauciennes, the last village on the road before reaching Villers-Cotterets,