Zipporah's Daughter (Knave of Hearts) (38 page)

‘If any of the servants are here they are on the point of going, as I said. Some talk of going to Paris to join in what they call “the fun”. I don’t think there’ll be any need for them to go to Paris. They’ll find it nearer at hand.’

‘Is it really as bad as that?’

‘It’s been coming for a long time. I thank God that He took Monsieur le Comte before he was able to see it.’

‘Oh, Tante Berthe,’ I cried, ‘what is going to happen to us all?’

‘We’ll wait and see,’ she replied calmly.

She went away to get hot water. I stood waiting while the silence of the château closed in on me.

It was evening of the next day. Tante Berthe had been right. All the servants had left except Jeanne and herself. There were just the few of us left in that vast château with that terrible sense of foreboding hanging over us. I would not have been surprised at anything that happened.

During the day I went to the watch-tower and looked down. Nothing but the peace of the fields. It was difficult to believe that terrible things were happening not far away. I must go to England, to the children, to Dickon. I would take Lisette with me … and Tante Berthe; Sophie and Jeanne too if they would come. I should not delay. I was well aware of that. I must talk to Lisette. We must make plans.

The silence was broken by sounds in the courtyard. We had visitors. It was with a sense of relief that I ran down, not knowing what to expect. It could be those who had come to harm us; but at least the monotony was broken. Something was about to happen at last.

Lisette was just behind me.

Two men were there. They were both dirty and unkempt. One of them was supported by the other, for clearly he found it difficult to stand. They were both in a sorry state.

‘Who … ?’ I began.

Then one of them spoke. ‘Lottie … ’ he said.

I went to him and stared.

‘Lottie,’ he said again. ‘I … I have come home.’

The voice was recognizable, but not the man.

‘Armand?’ I cried. But no, this filthy creature could not be Armand.

‘It was a long way … ’ he murmured.

‘He needs rest … nursing,’ said his companion. ‘We … both do.’

Lisette said: ‘Did you break out of prison?’

‘We were let out … by the people. The prison was stormed.’

‘The Bastille … !’ I cried. ‘So … that is where you went!’

I saw at once that this was no time for explanations. Armand and his companion needed immediate attention. Armand’s feet were bleeding and he was in great pain when he stood on them; and in any case he was in no condition to stand.

Lisette and I tended them and the practical Tante Berthe came to our aid. We washed them, removed their clothes and got them to bed.

‘We’ll burn these things at once,’ said Tante Berthe, even at such a time determining that such garments should not sully the château.

We fed the men with food in small quantities, for we could see that they were nearly starving. Armand wanted to talk and, weak as he was, would do so.

‘I went off that day to a meeting,’ he said. ‘By the river I was met by a party of royal guards. Their captain handed me the
lettre de cachet.
I guessed it was due to the Orléans faction. I was working for the good of the country. I was no traitor. But they took me to the Bastille. The Bastille!’ He shivered and could not stop shaking.

I insisted that he did not talk. He could tell us everything later when he was in a better condition to do so. We badly needed help. We had two very sick men on our hands, and there were only three of us to look after them. But there were two others in the house, and I decided that they could no longer live apart in their secluded turret. I went up the spiral staircase to Sophie’s apartment.

I knocked and went in. Sophie and Jeanne were sitting at a table playing cards.

I cried out: ‘We need your help.’

Sophie looked at me coldly. ‘Go away,’ she said.

I cried: ‘Listen. Armand is here. He has escaped from the Bastille.’

‘Armand is dead,’ said Sophie. ‘Armand was murdered.’

‘Come and see for yourself,’ I replied. ‘Armand is here. He was not murdered. Some traitors betrayed him and he was given a
lettre de cachet.
He has been imprisoned in the Bastille.’

Sophie had turned white and the cards fell from her hands on to the table.

‘It’s not true,’ she said. ‘It can’t be true.’

‘Come and see for yourself. You’ve got to help. You can’t sit up here playing cards. Don’t you know what’s happening in the world? We need all the help we can get. The servants have gone. We have two men here who will die if they don’t get proper nursing. They have walked all the way from Paris. They have escaped from the Bastille.’

Sophie said: ‘Come, Jeanne.’

She stood by the bed looking down at her brother. ‘Armand,’ she whispered. ‘It is not you?’

‘Yes, Sophie,’ he answered. ‘It is your brother Armand. You see what the Bastille does for a man.’

She fell on to her knees beside the bed.

‘But why? What did they accuse you of …
you
… ?’

‘There does not have to be an accusation with a
lettre de cachet.
Someone betrayed me … ’

I interrupted: ‘This is not the time for this talking. I need help in nursing them, Sophie; you and Jeanne must help. We have no servants now. They have all left.’

‘Left? Why?’

‘I think,’ I said wryly, ‘it is because they believe the revolution has come.’

Sophie worked indefatigably - and Jeanne with her; and with their help we managed to make the men reasonably comfortable. Armand was in worse shape. His skin was the colour of dirty paper and his eyes completely lustreless; he had lost most of his hair and his jaws were sunken. Those years he had spent in prison had killed the old Armand and left a feeble old man in his place.

His companion, without whom he would never have been able to make the journey from Paris, was responding to treatment and although very weak still was showing signs of recovery, which was more than we could say of Armand.

He told us that he had found Armand outside the prison when the mob trooped in and he had said that he wanted to get to Aubigné. He himself had nowhere to go so he helped Armand and together they crossed Paris. He described something of the scenes there. The people were in revolt. There were meetings everywhere and crowds formed into mobs who went about looting the shops and attacking anyone who looked worth robbing, shouting as they did so
‘A bas les aristocrats.’

I wouldn’t let him talk too much—and Armand not at all. It excited them and they were both desperately weak.

We couldn’t have managed without the help of Jeanne and Sophie. Tante Berthe was very good at knowing what could best be done, and cooking the little food we ate. Lisette was less energetic than the rest of us but she comforted us in a way because she refused to be gloomy and insisted that in time everything would come right.

I had abandoned all thought of leaving France since the arrival of Armand and his companion. I was needed here and I doubted in any case that with the country in the state it was I should be allowed to get very far.

Nothing happened for several days and I was beginning to feel that we should be left alone. There was rioting in Paris.’ There was a revolution in progress, Lisette said; but here, apart from the fact that we had no servants, everything was at least peaceful.

Lisette said to me: ‘Let’s go into the town. We might find out what is happening there and perhaps buy some food.’

I agreed that it was a good idea.

‘It is better for us to look like servants,’ she said. ‘Some of them left in such a hurry that they went without all their clothes. We could find something to wear.’

‘Do you think that is necessary?’

‘A precaution.’

She laughed at me in the dress which I had put on.

‘It reminds me of the time we went to see Madame Rougemont. Ah, no longer the grand lady. Not the Comte’s daughter but a simple serving-maid.’

‘Well, you look the same.’

‘I am, after all, only the niece of the housekeeper. Come on.’

We took two ponies from the stables and rode in on them. It was all there was. The grooms who had left had taken the horses with them. On the outskirts of the town we tied up the ponies and went in on foot.

Crowds were gathering.

‘It looks as though it is a special sort of day,’ said Lisette with a smile.

We passed through the crowd in our simple dresses and the only glances which came our way were those which some men give to women who could be called young and good-looking.

‘It seems as if something special is about to take place,’ I said.

‘Probably someone coming from Paris to speak to them. Look! There is a platform set up in the square.’

‘Shouldn’t we try to buy some food?’ I asked.

‘Haven’t you noticed most of the shops are boarded up?’

‘Surely they are not afraid of a riot here!’

‘Aubigné country is not sacred any more, Lottie.’

She gave a laugh as she said that and I looked at her quickly. Her eyes were shining with excitement.

There was a hush in the crowd as a man began to mount to his rostrum. I stared at him. I knew him at once. L é on Blanchard.

‘But what … ’ I began.

‘Hush,’ whispered Lisette. ‘He is going to speak.’

A cheer went up in the crowd. He raised his hand and there was a deep silence. Then he began to speak.

‘Citizens, the day has come. That which has long been due to us is almost within our grasp. The aristocrats who have ruled us … who have lived in luxury while we starved … the aristocrats who for generations have made us their slaves … are now being conquered. We are the masters now.’

There was a deafening cheer. He held up his hand again.

‘But we are not yet there, comrades. There is work to be done. We have to rout them out of their haunts of luxury and vice. We have to cleanse those haunts. We have to remember that God gave France to the people. What they have used for centuries now belongs to us … if we take it. You have lived your lives in the shadow of the great château. You have slaved for your masters. They have kept you in a state of servile starvation to make you work the harder for them. You have lived in fear. Citizens, I tell you, that is over. It is your turn now. The revolution is upon us. We shall take their châteaux, their gold, their silver, their food, their wine. We shall no longer live on mouldy bread for which we have to pay those hard-earned sous and of which we have often not had enough to buy even that. We will march as the good citizens of Paris have shown us how to. Citizens, it is happening all over the country. We will march on the Château d’Aubigné. We will take that which is ours by right.’

While he was talking understanding flashed upon me. He was the man the Comte and I had seen all those years ago. No wonder I had felt I had seen him before. I had not completely recognized him, for when I had first seen him he had been dressed like a peasant, as he was now. He wore a dark wig which slightly changed his appearance. He did not look quite like the gentleman who had come to tutor our boys. But it was the same man. Dickon had been right. He was an agitator in the service of the Duc d’Orléans whose plan was to bring about a revolution so that he might step into the King’s shoes. As Dickon had said, Blanchard was an Orléanist. The Duc de Soissonson was too and he had come to Aubigné to investigate Armand’s band which had resulted in Armand’s receiving his
lettre de cachet …
arranged no doubt by men in high places. Orléans … Soissonson …

‘It is monstrous,’ I said.

‘Hush!’ warned Lisette.

I turned to her. She was staring at Léon Blanchard as though entranced.

I whispered: ‘We must get back quickly. We must warn them … ’

‘Are you ready, Citizens?’ asked Blanchard; and there was a roar from the crowd.

‘In good order then we will assemble here at dusk. These duties are best carried out at night.’

I felt as though I was choking. I wanted to shout: This man is a traitor. My father was always good to his people. Our servants lived well. How dare you say we starved them! My father always cared for their welfare. They were never given mouldy bread. And Léon Blanchard, wicked traitor that he was, lived with us … as a member of the family when he deceived us and played the part of tutor.

How we had been deceived. Dickon had been right. If only we had listened to Dickon!

Lisette was gripping my arm. ‘Be careful,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t open your mouth. Come on. Let’s get out of here.’ She almost dragged me through the crowds. We found the ponies and rode back to the château.

‘So that wicked man was a traitor all the time,’ I said.

‘It depends what you mean by traitor,’ replied Lisette. ‘He was true to his cause.’

‘The cause of revolution! What are we going to do? Leave the château?’

‘Where would we go?’

‘Are we going to wait for them to come, then?’

‘The crowd didn’t harm you, did it?’ I looked down at my plain dress. ‘No,’ she went on, ‘you look like a good servant … a woman of the right class.’

‘If they take the château … ’ I began.

Again there was that familiar lifting of her shoulders.

‘Lisette,’ I went on, ‘what’s the matter with you? You don’t seem to care.’

We went into the château. It was very quiet. I thought of the mob listening to the traitor Blanchard and I wondered if I should ever see it like this again.

I said: ‘What are we going to
do?
We must warn Sophie and Jeanne.’

‘For what purpose?’

‘And Tante Berthe …’ I went on.

‘She will be safe. After all, she is only a servant.’

Lisette had followed me up to my bedroom.

I said: ‘Lisette, did you know that Léon Blanchard was going to be there today.’

She smiled at me mysteriously. ‘You were always so easily deceived, Lottie,’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Léon sent word to me. He and I were great friends … intimate friends. We had such a lot in common, you see.’

‘You … and Léon Blanchard!’

She nodded, smiling. ‘I knew him during those miserable years when I was at the farm. He brought me here.’