Zigzag Journeys in Europe Part 35

"'Come along, Capet,' said he, 'here is a new song which you must sing to me.'

"He handed the song to the dauphin. The boy saw its meaning, and with all the instincts of a susceptible nature he recoiled from the thought of reviling his mother. He laid it down on the table without saying a word.

"Simon arose in wrath.

"'I thought I said you must sing.'

"'I never will sing such a song.'

"'I declare to you that I will kill you if you refuse to obey me.'

"'Never!'

"Simon caught up an andiron, and threw it at the child with a force that would have proved fatal had he not missed his aim. His pa.s.sion then gradually subsided, but the boy refused to sing.

"One day, after a system of abuses too shocking to relate, Simon seized the dauphin by the ear, and drawing him to the middle of the apartment, said,--

"'Capet, if the Vendeans were to set you at liberty, what would you do to me?'

"'I would forgive you,' replied the n.o.ble boy.

"His situation at last became wretched in the extreme. He was placed in a filthy cell where he could neither receive pure air nor have exercise; his food was scanty, his bed was not made for six months, and his clothes were not changed for a year. He became covered with vermin, and the mice used to nibble at his feet. He pa.s.sed the days in utter silence, wishing only to die. Once, when he had attempted to pray kneeling, he had been discovered and terribly punished, and he felt that it was not safe for him to speak even to his G.o.d.

"After the overthrow of the Revolutionary government under Robespierre, he was a.s.signed to more merciful keepers. But his body and mind were in ruins, and all efforts to restore him proved in vain.

"It was a lovely June day in the summer of 1795. He was dying; without, the air was full of sunshine, of birds and roses.

"'Are you in pain?' asked his attendant.

"'Yes,' he said; 'but not in so much as I was, the music is so sweet.'

"He presently added; 'Do you not hear the music?'

"'From whence does it come?'

"'From above.'

"His eyes became luminous; he seemed happy and peaceful, and he fancied that among the voices that seemed to be singing around him he could distinguish that of his mother. It may have been all but a dream or fancy, but it grew out of the filial devotion of his heart."

[Ill.u.s.tration: FOREST OF FONTAINEBLEAU.]

Fontainebleau is one of the most ancient palaces of France; it is a labyrinth of galleries, salons, amphitheatres, secret chambers, and fantastic balconies. To traverse the palace is a journey. Like all the old French palaces, it is surrounded with gardens, parks, and has its wood or forest. Indeed, the town of Fontainebleau is situated in a forest, which covers an extent of sixty-four miles.

[Ill.u.s.tration: IN THE WOOD AT FONTAINEBLEAU.]

"Artists, poets, romancers, and lovers," says a writer, "have from time immemorial made the forest of Fontainebleau the empire of their dreams. You ought to see it in the morning, when the bird sings, when the sun shines, ... when all these stones, heaped beneath those aged trees, take a thousand fantastic forms, and give to it the appearance of the plain on which the t.i.tans fought against Heaven. Oh, what terrible and touching histories, stories of hunting and of love, of treason and vengeance, this forest has covered with its shadow!"

St. Louis loved this forest, and Napoleon signed his abdication at Fontainebleau.

Master Lewis had allowed the boys to have a day to themselves in each of the princ.i.p.al places where they had stopped. If one of them wished to make an excursion on that day to some neighboring place, the good teacher made some careful arrangement for that one to do so. He was very careful about all matters of this kind, without really seeming to distrust the boys' judgment in their efforts to look out for themselves. A coach-driver, a traveller, a valet-de-place, or some person was usually employed to have an eye on the member of the Cla.s.s who was allowed to make a tour to a strange place alone.

The boys, with the exception of Tommy Toby, were given a day to go where they liked in Paris. Master Lewis did not dare to allow Tommy this privilege, after his misadventure in England.

The Wynns visited the Palace of the Inst.i.tute; Frank Gray, the Grand Opera House.

"I would like to go to the river this morning," said Tommy, "and sail on the ---- queer boats there."

"The flies, or water-omnibuses?" said Master Lewis. "I will go with you."

Tommy looked surprised and hardly seemed pleased, not that he did not generally like Master Lewis's company, but because it looked to him like a restraint upon his freedom.

But the good teacher took his hat and cane, and Tommy did not express any displeasure in words. The two went to a splendid stone bridge called the Pont d'Jena, over the Seine.

Compared with the Mississippi, the Ohio, or the St. Lawrence, the Seine is but a small stream. The river is lined with solid stone-work on each side, and its banks are shaded with trees. It is filled with queer crafts, and a mult.i.tude of families live on the barges that convey wood, coal, and certain kinds of merchandise from place to place.

As Master Lewis and Tommy were standing on the bridge, watching the sloops as they lowered their masts to pa.s.s under, an astonishing sight met Tommy's eyes.

It was a great boat, like a steamer, but without screw or paddles, swiftly pa.s.sing up the river by means of a chain which rose out of the water at the bows, ran along the deck, turned around wheels which seemed to be worked by an engine, and then slipped overboard at the stern.

"How far can that boat go on in that way?" asked Tommy.

"The chain by which the boat is carried forward," said Master Lewis, "is _one hundred miles long_."

Master Lewis and Tommy pa.s.sed some hours among the queer crafts on the river, taking pa.s.sages here and there on the flies or water-omnibuses.

"Were you afraid to trust me alone this morning?" asked Tommy, on their return.

"Well, yes."

"Did you think I could not speak French well enough to go out alone?"

"Your French might not be very well understood here."

"I think I can talk simple French, such as servants could understand very well."

In the afternoon, being somewhat alone, Tommy thought he would explore the hotel, which was something of a town in itself. He descended from his apartment on the third floor, with the intention of going to the courtyard. But he could not find the place which had so attracted him from his window. He tried to go back, but lost the way even to his apartment. He descended again, but failed to find any place he remembered to have seen before. It was all as grand as a palace, but as puzzling as a labyrinth he had seen in the grounds of Hampton Court Palace.

He said to one after another of the very polite people he chanced to meet,--

"Please, sir [or madam], do you speak English?"

He received only smiles of good-will, and courteous shakes of the head, in answer to all inquiries.

Tommy remembered his French lessons. Happy thought! He accosted a servant, whose knowledge of the language he fancied might be as simple as his own:--

"_Pardon, Monsieur, voulez-vous avez la bonte de m'indiquer un valet-de-place?_"

"_Je ne comprends pas_," said he.