Marie Antoinette and Her Son Part 69

They walked on to the second court. "Now, then," whispered Toulan, "for caution and thoughtfulness! Tomorrow at ten o'clock I will be standing before the door, and you will call me in to help you in your moving."

"I wish it were all over," groaned Simon. "It seems to me as if my head were shaking on my shoulders, and my heart beats as if I were a young girl."

"Courage, Simon, only courage! Remember that tomorrow you are to be a free and a rich man. Then, as soon as you give your basket to the washerwoman at the Macon gate, I will pay you the promised twenty thousand francs. And--"

"Halt!" cried the sentinel at the entrance to the Temple. "No one can go in here without a pa.s.s."

"You do not want a pa.s.s for my rocking-horse, brother citizen, do you?" asked Simon, with a laugh.

"Nonsense! I am speaking about the commissioner."

"He is going of himself, and does not want to go in. But look him square in the face, for he will come to-morrow morning again. I have secured him in advance, to help me in moving out. Bring a wagon along, commissioner, for the things will be too heavy to carry without one. And now help put the horse on my shoulders. So! Well, then, to-morrow morning at ten, commissioner."

"To-morrow morning at ten," replied Toulan, nodding to Simon, and slowly sauntering through the court. He stopped at the outer gate, told the porter that he was going to a.s.sist Simon in his moving on the morrow, and then asked in an indifferent tone whether Simon's successor at the Temple was appointed.

"Why, would you like the place?" asked the porter, gruffly.

"No, indeed, not I! I have no taste for such work. It must be an awful air in the prison."

"It is that," replied the porter. "And so after Simon has moved out, they are going to cleanse the place a little, and give it an airing, and the successor will move in about noon."

"Well, I don't envy the man who moves in," said Toulan, with a laugh. "Good-by, citizen, we shall see each other to-morrow."

He went out into the street, and slowly sauntered along. At the end of it he stopped and gave a trifle to a beggar who, supported by a crutch, was leaning against a house.

"Is it all right thus far?"

"Yes, marquis, thank G.o.d, thus far every thing has gone on well. The horse is in the Temple, and nothing is discovered."

"May the grace of G.o.d stand by us to-morrow!" whispered the beggar.

"You are sure that all the arrangements are carefully attended to?"

"Entirely sure, M. de Jarjayes. While you are leaving Paris in the garb of a washerwoman, our two allies will both be driving out of two other gates, with the boy, in stylish carriages."

"And it will be you, Toulan, who will have saved the King of France," whispered the beggar. "Oh! be sure that all France will thank you for it some day, and give you the t.i.tle of savior of your country!"

"Baron," said Toulan, shaking his head, "for me there is but one t.i.tle of honor, that which the Queen of France gave me. I am called Fidele, and I want no other name. But this one I will maintain so long as I live. Good-by till we meet to-morrow at the Porte Macon!"

Little Prince Louis Charles received the hobby-horse, which Simon carried into the chamber, with a little more interest than in the case of the other playthings. He even raised himself up a little on his mattress, and directed a long, searching gaze at the tall, handsome wooden creature.

"Well," asked the official, who had gone with Simon into the dungeon, and had watched the effect of the toy, "well, how does your horse please you, little Capet?"

The boy nodded slowly, but made no reply; he only reached out his long, thin, right hand, and made a motion as if he wanted to rise.

"To-morrow, little Capet," cried Jeanne Marie, holding him back.

"To-day you must keep entirely still, so the doctor said, and I will cut your hair off directly, as the doctor ordered. But I should like to have you here, citizen, and oversee the operation. The boy will look much changed, when his long, yellow hair is cut off, and afterward it might be supposed--"

"Yes, certainly," interrupted Simon, with a laugh, "afterward it might be supposed that it is not the stupid youngster who has troubled us so long, that out of pure tenderness and love we had taken him along with us."

"No one would consider the republican Simon capable of such a thing," replied the official, "and besides, the boy will stay here, and no subst.i.tute for him can fall out of the clouds. Be free from care, Simon. I myself shall recognize the boy to-morrow, and if he should look changed in appearance, I shall know how it comes."

"Yes, he will know how it comes," said Simon, with a grin, as he watched the retreating form of the official, now leaving the prison.

"Lock the door, Simon," whispered Jeanne Marie. "We must let the boy out of this if he is not to be stifled!"

"No, no," said Simon, motioning his wife to retreat from the hobby- horse which she was approaching. "He will not be stifled, for beneath the saddle-cloth there are nothing but air-holes, and he can endure it a good while. We must above all things be cautious and prepared for every thing. It would be a fine thing, would it not, if the officials who are on guard in the Temple should conceive the idea of making the rounds a second time for the purpose of inspection. He cannot be carried out before it strikes ten from Notre Dame. We will, however, give him a little more air."

He removed the saddle with care, which was let into the back of the wooden horse, and listened at the opening.

"He breathes very peacefully and evenly," he then said, softly. "He seems to be asleep. Jeanne Marie, hold the saddle in your hand, and at the least approach fit it again in its place. I will now take hold and pack our things."

When the night came, and the last rounds had been made past the closed doors of Simon's rooms, and the officials had withdrawn into the great hall, where they stayed during the night-watch, there was an unusual stir within Simon's apartments. Jeanne Marie, who had thrown herself in her clothes upon the bed, slipped out from beneath the coverlet. Simon, who was standing near the door listening, advanced to the little prince, and bade him in a whisper to get up.

The child, which now seemed to have recovered from its indifference and stupidity, rose at once, and at Simon's further command made an effort to remove his clothes, and to put on in their place the coa.r.s.e woollen suit and the linen trousers which Simon drew out of his bed and handed to him.

The toilet was soon completed, and the little prince looked with a timid, inquiring glance at Simon, who was regarding him with a searching eye.

"And the stockings, master?" he asked. "Do not I have any stockings?"

"No," growled Simon--"no, the son of a washerwoman wants no stockings. There are some wooden shoes which will be laid for you in the basket, and you put them on afterward, if we are fortunate in getting away. But you must cut his hair, Jeanne Marie. With long hair he will not look like a boy from the people."

Jeanne Marie shuddered. "I cannot," she whispered; "it would seem to me as if I were cutting off his head, and the woman in white would stand behind, and pierce me through with her great eyes."

"Come, come, that old story again!" growled Simon. "Give me the scissors, then; I will take care of it, for the boy must part with his hair before he goes into the basket. Come, come, do not shrink and curl up so; I was not speaking of the guillotine-basket, but of your dirty-clothes basket. Come, Capet, I want to cut your hair."

He took the great shears from the work-basket, and sat down on a stool by the side of the table, on which burned a dim tallow candle, throwing an uncertain light through the apartment. "Come, Capet!"

The boy stole up with an insecure step, and shrank together when Simon seized him and drew him between his knees.

"Do not hurt him, Simon. Be careful of him," whispered Jeanne Marie, sinking on the floor and folding her hands. "Remember, husband, that she is here, and that she is looking at you, and that she bores into my head with her eyes when you do any harm to the child."

Simon looked around with a shy and anxious glance. "It is high time that we were away from here," he growled--"high time, if I am not to be crazy as well as you. Stoop down, Capet, so that I can cut your hair off." The child let his head fall; but a faint, carefully suppressed sob came from his breast, while Simon's shears went clashing through his locks, severing them from his head.

"What are you crying for, Capet?" asked Simon, zealously going forward with his work.

"I am so sorry, master, to have my locks cut off."

"You probably suppose, you vain monkey, that your locks are particularly beautiful?"

"Oh, no, master! It is only," sighed the boy with his eyes full of tears--" it is only because her hand has rested on them, and because she kissed them when I saw her the last time."

"Who is she?" asked Simon, roughly.

"My mamma queen," replied Louis with such a tone of tenderness as to bring tears into the eyes of Jeanne Marie, and even to move the cobbler himself.

"Hush!" he said, softly. "Hush! you must never call your mother by such a name. After to-morrow morning you are to be the son of a washerwoman. Remember that, and now be still! There, your hair is done now. Pick up the locks from the floor and lay them on the table, Jeanne Marie. We must leave them here, that the officer may find them in the morning, and not wonder if he does not recognize the urchin. Now we will bring the wash-basket, and see whether young Capet will go into it. "

He brought out of the chamber a high, covered basket, grasped the boy, thrust him in, and ordered him to lie down on the bottom of the basket.