Ten Boys from History Part 8

In stately dignity, Marie Antoinette then left the room to receive other subjects, who still considered her the queen of France, and after her going, King Louis and his little son were left alone.

The king, exhausted in body and mind, closed his eyes and lay back in his chair, ready to sink into a light doze, when he was roused by a gentle touch on his arm.

Beside him stood the Dauphin, his great blue eyes full of grave thoughtfulness. When he saw the King's eyes open, he spoke.

"Papa," he said, hesitatingly, "I should like to ask you something--something really serious!"

"Something really serious!" replied the King, smiling in spite of himself. "Well, what is it? Let me hear."

"Papa," answered the Dauphin, with an air of one who has thought deeply on a subject. "My governess has always told me I must love the people of France and treat them kindly, because they love you and mama so much. But if they do, papa, then why do the people act so badly to you?

And oh, papa, I have been told that your people owe you obedience and respect, but they were not obedient nor respectful yesterday and they said dreadful things I never heard before. What does it mean, papa?"

The king drew the child on to his knee and put an arm around the grave little questioner, telling him that he would explain it to him, but that he would have to listen carefully if he wished to understand such grave matters.

"Oh, I will, I will," answered the Dauphin eagerly. "I know that I am one of your subjects, and that as your son and a subject too, I must give a good example to the French people of loving and obeying the king. But it seems that my example has not done any good at all yet.

How does that happen, papa?"

In answer, the King told him that wicked men had said to the people that he did not love them, that they had listened and believed this, that France had had great wars, and wars cost a great deal. And so, because he was the King, he had asked money of his subjects, just as had always been done by other Kings.

"Oh, but papa," cried the Dauphin, "why did you do that? Why did you not take my purse and pay out of that? You know that I receive every day my purse filled with bright new francs and I could have helped you easily. And, oh papa, do your people have more money than you have yourself?"

King Louis answered that a king receives all his money from the people, but gives it all back to them again, that he governs those people, and they owe him respect and obedience and have to pay taxes to him, and so if he needs money he raises it by laying extra taxes upon them. Then he asked, "do you understand that, little Louis?"

"Oh, yes, indeed!" The Dauphin was breathless with interest now, "I have been told about that, but I don't like it. It seems to me that if a man is the king, he ought to have all the money and give it to the people when they need it. They ought to ask him for it, not he ask them."

To this the king agreed, but added with a sigh, that kings had so misused their power and authority that the people no longer trusted them, and that now a king could not pay out money unless the people knew what it was to be used for, and were willing.

"Have you used people's money, papa, without asking their leave?" cried Louis eagerly. "Was that why they came to Versailles yesterday and were so wicked to us? For those bad men and women were the people, weren't they?"

King Louis shook his head. "No, my son," he said. "The people can not come to me in such great ma.s.ses. They have to send representatives.

Those representatives I called to me at Versailles and asked of them money for the outlays I had to make, but they asked things in return, of me which I could not grant, either for my own sake or for yours, my son, who are some day to be my successor. Then the people were led to believe that I did not love them, but I am determined to show them that I do love them and am ready to share everything with them. That is why we have left lovely Versailles and come to live here, where we have to do without so much that we enjoy. And we must try to be contented here and share all the disagreeable things that the people have to bear, which is what a true King should do."

The Dauphin had sat like an old man, listening, and now as his father stopped speaking, the boy laid a hand on his breast, saying solemnly:

"Papa, I have understood everything, and I am very much ashamed that I complained at all. And I promise you I will take pains to give everybody a good example. I will be happy and contented here."

And the Dauphin kept his word; he took pains to be contented, and never said another word about Versailles, but tried to get all the pleasure he could from the dreary old palace and its garden, so different from that at Versailles, where the Dauphin had so much ground in which to work. Here in the garden, there was only one small corner set aside for the use of the royal family. This was surrounded by iron palings, through which faces full of hate and malice would often peer at the little Dauphin while he was busy gardening. One day he heard such words and saw such threatening faces that he shrank back and ran to his mother, who comforted him as best she could and said that he must be brave and strong, or she would cry too, and that she must not do this because it was exactly what the men who were trying to hurt their feelings, wanted to see her do.

The boy's eyes flashed.

"I will never complain again," he cried, "and they shall never again have the pleasure of seeing you or me cry if I can help it. But, mamma, tell me--are there no good men in the world?"

"Yes, Louis," answered the queen. "You must believe that all men are good and treat them courteously, until you have proved the contrary. If they refuse your friendly kindness, it will not be your fault, and you will have done what is right, no matter what others do."

A shadow pa.s.sed over the child's lovely face.

"But, mamma," he said, "all men are not good. The men who abused and cursed us so were not good, and I could never be friendly to them, never!"

"We will hope that we shall never see them again," said the queen, "and I wish you to be so kind and polite to everyone who comes here, that all men may admire and respect their future king, even though he is still a child."

"I will be," cried the boy with spirit, "so that you may be satisfied with me, mamma. Just for that I will be so!"

As Marie Antoinette was kissing the pretty boy who was her comforter, the mayor of Paris and General Lafayette were announced, and the Dauphin whispered to his mother:

"That general was at Versailles with the bad men. I can _never_ be kind to him."

"Hush," whispered the Queen--"For G.o.d's sake, do not let anybody hear that. No--no--he does not belong to our enemies. He wishes us well.

Treat him kindly, my child."

And then Marie Antoinette took her son by the hand, and together they met their distinguished guests, who had come with the unwelcome news that, according to the old custom of the days of Henry the Fourth, the people wished to have free access to the gardens of the Tuileries, which freedom had been denied them since the coming of King Louis and his family.

The queen was bitterly opposed to this, for it meant that, for her own comfort and protection, she must only walk in the garden at certain times and under escort, and she was speaking with proud and angry fearlessness to the general about the matter, when the Dauphin left her side and running forward, extended his hand to Lafayette, crying:

"General, I should like to salute you. Mamma told me I must be polite and kind to all who are good to us, and she said that you wish us well.

Let me, therefore, greet you kindly, and give you my hand."

As he spoke, he raised his blue eyes and looked smilingly and trustingly into those of the general and then at his mother; and his hearer, whose heart had just kindled with anger against Marie Antoinette and her rebellious words, felt anger melt into admiration, together with reverence and astonishment at the words of the manly little Dauphin. Bending his knee, in stately grace, he pressed the Dauphin's small hand to his lips and said gravely as to a comrade:

"My prince, you have spoken as with the tongue of an angel, and I swear to you and to your royal mother that I will never forget this moment.

The kiss I have impressed upon the hand of my future king is at once the seal of a solemn vow and the oath of unchangeable fidelity and devotion to my king and the royal family. Dauphin of France, you have to-day gained a soldier for your throne who is prepared to shed his last drop of blood for you and your house, and on whose loyalty you may always count."

General Lafayette had tears in his eyes, and his n.o.ble face glowed with emotion, while the child before him looked at him with wistful eyes and a happy smile. Close by stood Marie Antoinette, her air of proud defiance turned to one of gentle sweetness. She knew what that moment meant in the history of France, and her heart thrilled with pride in her little son, the Dauphin. Stooping, she kissed his golden hair, and then, without an attempt to conceal the emotion, she finished her conversation with the general and mayor, and then, making her adieus to them beckoned to the Dauphin to go with her from the pavilion in which the interview had taken place, and to return to the palace.

Instead of walking beside her, the Dauphin paused and asked:

"Mamma, please let me walk alone. I want the people to see I am not afraid, as they may think if I let you lead me. I want to be like the Chevalier Bayard, that the Abbe talked to me about the other day. I want to be _sans peur et sans reproche_--like Bayard."

The queen smiled through tears.

"Very well, my chevalier," she said. "You shall walk alone."

"And before you, please. The knights always walk in advance of the ladies, to protect them from danger. I am your knight, mamma, and I want to be, as long as I live." And he added with a pretty, playful bow, "Will you allow it, my royal lady?"

"I allow it! So go in front, chevalier, little Louis. We will take the same way we came."

The Dauphin sprang along the path for quite a distance, when he stopped suddenly and turned round to the queen, who with her two footmen was walking quietly behind him.

"Well, Chevalier Bayard, what are you stopping for?" asked the queen with a smile.

"I am waiting for you," he said gravely, "because this is where my knightly service commences, for it is here that danger begins."

"It is true," said the Queen, and even as she spoke, there came to her ears a sound of shouting as loud as the booming of cannon. "Oh, my child," cried Marie Antoinette, "the sound is like the thundering of a storm at sea! But such storms lie in G.o.d's hand and He protects those who trust Him. Think of that, little Louis, and do not be afraid!"

"Oh, I am not afraid!" cried Louis, running happily on. And yet, outside the fence behind which they were walking, was a dense ma.s.s of angry people muttering curses on the queen and the Dauphin.

All at once, the mother's heart almost stopped beating from fright and horror. A man had extended his bare, powerful arm through the paling of the fence, to bar the Dauphin's way when he should try to pa.s.s it.

The boy saw the arm, hesitated a little, then went bravely forward. The queen hurried that she might be near him when he reached the danger point. On walked the Dauphin in proud courage. On hurried the queen and as she reached him, she cried: