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The Novelist

TWO INSTALMENTS OF

oHo¥aiier tie {liaison -^fioiige.^r

A TALE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. THRILLING AND REALISTIC STORY OK THE REIGN OF TERROR. CHAPTER XLIX. TUB SCAFFOLD. Upon La Place de la Revolution, leaning against a lamp-post, two men were waiting. Of those who followed with the crowd, som? were carried to La Place du Palais, others to La Place do la Revolution, while the rest spread, impatient and tumultuous, over the whole road separating the two place*. When the queen reached the instrument of punishment, which, defaced by the sun and storm, worn by the hand of the executioner, and, most horrible, blunted by too frequent contact with its victims, it reared its head with a sinister pride over the subjacent mass, like a queen ruling her people. The two men, arm in arm, and speaking by fits and starts, with pale lips and contracted brows, were Louis and Maurice. Lost in the crowd, but not in a way calculated to excite suspicion, they continued in a low tone, their conversation, which was perhaps not the least interesting one circulating among the various groups, which, like an electric chain, agitated this living sea from the Pont an Chance to the Place de la Revolution.

" See," 6aid Maurice, as the hideous monster reared her red arms; " might it not be said that she calls us, and smiles from her wicket, in anticipation of a frightful mouthful." "I." said Louis, "must confess I do not belong to the school of poitry which sees everything couleur do rouge. I see it en rose, and even at the Soot of this dreadful machine, I will sing and hope still. ' Duin spiro, sporo.' " " You hope, when they murder women?" " Maurice," said Louis, " child of the Revolution, do not deny your mother. Ah ! Maurice, remain a stanch and loj-al patriot. She who is condemned to die is unlike all other women; she is the evil genius of France." " Oh! it is not her that I regret: it is not for her I weep!" cried Maurice. " Yes. I understand, it is Genevieve." "Ah !" said Maurice, " there is one thought that drives me mad. It is that Genevieve is in the hands of those purveyors to the guillotine, Herbert and Fouquier Tinville; in the hands_ of the men who sent here the poor Heloise, and are now sending the proud Marie Antoinette."

"Well," said Louis, "it is this thought that inspires me with hope. When the anger of the people has feasted two tyrants it will be for some time satiated at least, like the boa-constrictor, who requires three months to digest what he has devoured. Then it_ will swallow no more, and, as it is said by the prophets of the faubourg, ' the lesser morsels will have no cause for fear.' " " Louis I Louis !" said Maurice, " I am more positive than you, and I say tt in a whisper, but airi ready to .repeat it aloud; Louis, I hate the new jquc?n, who seems destined to succeed the Austrian whom she destroys. It is a sad queen whose purple is daily dyed in blood, and to whom Sanson is prime minister."

" Bah ! we shall escape." " I do not believe it," said Maurice, shaking his head; "to avoid being arrested at your house, we have no resource but to live in the street."

" Bah! we can quit Paris; there is nothing to prevent us. We need not complain then. My uncle will await us at St. Omer; money, passport, nothing will be wanting. There exists not the gendarme who shall arrest us; what do you think ? We remain in Paris because we choose to do so."

" No, that is not correct, excellent friend, devoted and faithful as you are. We remain because I wish to continue here."

"And you wish to remain to discover Genevieve. Well, nothing is more simple, just or natural. You think f ; ho is in prison; nothing more probable. You wish to keep watch over her, and on that account we cannot quit Paris." Maurice drew a deep sigh; it was evident his thoughts were wandering.

" Do you remember the death of Louis XVI. ?" eaid he.

" I can 6ee him yet, pale with pride and emotion. I was then one of the chiefs of this crowd, where I conceal myself to-day, I was greater at th« foot of the scaffold than the king upon it had ever been. What changes, Louis . and when one thinks that nine .Short months have sufficed to work this change." "Nine months of love, Maurice! Love lost Troy." Maurice sighed: his wandering thoughts now took another direction.

"Poor Maison Rouge !" said he; "it fa a sad thing for him." " Holas !" said Louis. "shall I tell you what appears to mo the most mclnnch- ly thins; about the revolution ?" " Yes.'" said Maurice. " It is that one often has for friends those we should prefer as enemies, and for enemies those we would wish—" "It gives me much pain to think of one thing." interrupted Maurice. " What ?"

"It is that he did uot invent some project to save the queen. He must be uin.d !" " A man -with the strength of ten thousand." " I tell you ho was mad. I kuow that to save Genevieve —" I,oui« frowned. " I agaiu tell you, Maurice," said he, " yon are wild. No; even were it possible for you to save Genevieve, you would only become a bad citizen. But enough of this. Maurice, let us listen. Look how the heads undulate; see, there is Sanson's valet raising himself from under the basket, and looking in the distance. The Austrian arrives." In short, as if to accompany this movement which Louis had remarked, a shuddering, prolonged and unceasing, pervaded the crowd. It was one of those hnrricanee which commence with a whistle and terminate with a bellow. Maurice raised himself by the help of the lamp-post, and looked toward La Rue St. Honore. " Yes," said he, shuddering, " there !t " IS -" . , -x And another machine now made its appearance, almost as revolting as the guillotine. It was the fatal cart. On the right and left glittered the arms of the escort, while in front marched Grammont, replying with flashes of his saber to the shouts and cries of some fanatics. But even as the cart advanced, these crie3 subsided under the haughty courage of the condemned. Sever had a countenance commanded more respect, never had Mario Antoinette looked more the queen. Her proud courage inspired her assistants with terror. Indifferent to the exhortations nf 'the Abbe Giraud, who still accomy>n nied her. her face move neither to the right nor left; her deep thought was as immutable as her look; even the jolting motion of the cart upon the uneven pavement did not by its violence disturb the rigidity of her features; she might have been taken for a royal statue riding in the cart, had it not been for her brilliant eyes, and her hair, which had escaped from her cap, being waved «.bont by tho wind. A silence equal

to that of the desert fell suddenly upon those three hundred thousand f.pcctators of this scene, witnessed by the heavens for the first time by the light of t.:o sun. On the right where Maurice and Louis were standing, the wheels of the cart were heard, and the breathing cl the horse. The cart stopped at the scaffold. The queen, who, doubtless, was not conscious at the moment, awoke and understood it all; she threw a haughty glance upon the crowd, nnU again encountered the rcstlcs.l eves of the pale young man she had previously wen standing on the cannon. He was now mounted on a stone, and repeated the respectful salutation he had before offered her as she left the conciergene. He then disappeared. Many persons seeing him. it was soon reported, from his being dressed in black, that a priest was in attendance on Marie Antoinette, to give I*t absolution ere she ascended the see.ffold. As to the rest, no one disturbed the chevalier. There is in the highest moments a supreme respect for certain things. The qyeen cautiously descended the steps from the cart, supported by Sanson, who to the last moment, in accomplishing the task to which he himself appeared to be condemned, treated her with the most marked respect.

As the queen walked toward the steps of the scaffold some of the hor?C3 reared, and several of the foot-guards and soldiers appeared to oscillate and lose their equilibrium; then a shadow was seen to glide under the scaffold, but tranquillity was almost instantaneously re-established, since no one was willing to quit his place at this solemn moment —no one was willing to lose the minutest detail in the dreadful tragedy about to be accomplished. All eyes were directed toward the condemned. The queen was already on the platform of the scaffold. The priest still continued to address her; an assistant softly placed himself behind her, while au-

other removed the handkerchief Trom h"r shoulders. Marie Antoinette felt the touch of the infamous hand upon her neck, and, making a brusque movement, trod upon Sanson's foot, who, without her having seen him, was engaged in fixing the fatal plank. Sanson drew back.

"Excuse me, monsieur," eaid the queen; "I did not do it intentionally." These were the last words pronounced by the daughter of the Caesars. the Queen of France, the widow of Louis XVI.

As the clock of the Tuileries struck a quarter after twelve, tho queen was launched into eternity. A terrible cry —a shout comprising at once joy, terror, sorrow, triumph, expiation—rose like a storm, smothering in its birth a feeble, burst of lamentation which issued from' beneath the scaffold. The gendarmes heard it, notwithstanding, feeble as it was, and advanced some steps in front. The crowd, now less compact, expanded like a river whoso dike has been enlarged, threw down the fence, dispersed the guards, and rushed like the returning tide to beat the foot of the scaffold, which was already shaking. Each one wished for a nearer view of the royal remains of her whom they had considered the destruction of France. But the gendarmes had another object in view—thfiy sought the shadow which had repas'sed their lines, and glided beneath the scaffold. Two of them returned leading between them by the collar a pale young man, whose hand contained a bloodstained handkerchief, which he pressed to his heart; he was followed by a little spaniel howling piteously. "Death to the aristocrat! death to the ci-devant'." cried some men of the people ; "he has dipped his handkerchief in the Austrian's blood—to death with him '."

"Great God!" said Maurice to Louis. "Do you recognize him ? do you recognize him ?" " Death to the Royalist !" repeated these madmen; " take away the handkerchief he wishes to preserve as a relic, wrest it from him, tear it from him." A liaughty smile flitted across the young man's lips, he tore open his shirt, bared his breast, and dropped the handkerchief.

" Gentlemen," said he, " this blood is not the queen's but my own. Let me die in peace." And a deep, gushing wound appeared widely gaping under the loft breast. The crowd uttered one cry, and retired. The yomitf man sunk slowly upon his knees and gazed upon the scaffold as a martyr look* upon the altar. " Maison Rouge," whispered Louis to Maurice.

•' Adieu !" murmured the young man, bowing his head with an angelic smile, " adieu ! or, rather, an revoir !" and he expired in the midst of the stupified guards. " There is still the expedient, Louis," eaid Maurice, " before becoming an unworthy citizen." The little spaniel turned toward the corpse, terrified and howling lamentably.

" Why, here is Jet !" said a man, holding a large club in his hand; " why, here, is Jet ! Come here, old fellow." The dog advanced toward him, hut was scarcely within arm's length of the man who called him, when the brutal wretch raised his club and darned out his brains, at the same time bursting into a hoarse laugh. "Cowardly wretch!" cried Maurice. " Silence," said Louis, "or we are lost. It is Simon." CHAPTER li. THE VISIT TO TUB DOMICILE, Louis and Maurice returned to their mutual home, but the latter, in order not to compromise his friends too openly, usually absented himself during the day and returned at night. In the midst of these events, being present always at the removal of the prisoners to the conciergerie, he watched daily for the eight of Genevieve, not having been yet able to discover her place of im'pntenment. Louis, since his visit to Fouquier Tinville, had succeeded in convincing him that on the first ostensible act ho was lost, and would then have sacrificed himself without having benefitted Genevieve, and Maurice, who would willingly have thrown himself into prison i:> the hope, of being united to his mistress, became prudent from the fe i „■ of being scx>arated from her forever. Ho went every morning to the Carmelites at Port Libre, the Madelonuettes at St. Lazare, from La Force to the Luxembourg, he stationed himself before these prisons to watch the carts aa they came out to convey the accused to the Revolutionary Tribunal. Then, when he had scanned the victims, he proceeded to the other prisons to prosecute this hopeless search, as he soon became aware that the activity of ten men would prove inadequate to keep watch over the thirty-three prisons which Paris could boast of at this period. He, therefore, contented himself by going daily to the tribunal, there to await the coming of Genevieve. He was already beginning to despair. ludesd, What resources remained to a, pensoa

appear in to-day's issue.

condemned, after their arret ? Sometimes the tribunal, whose sittings commenced at ten o'clock, had condemned twenty or thirty people by four o'clock; tho3C> first condemned had six hours to Jive, but the last sentenced at a quarter to four, fell at half-past beneath theaxe. To resign Genevieve to submit to a similar fate would be ceasing to fight then against destiny. Oh! if he had known beforehand of the imprisonment of Genevieve, how Maurice would have tracked the blind human justice of this epoch ! how easily and promptly he had torn Genevieve from prison'. Never were escapes more easy, and it may be said never were they eo rare. All the nobles once placed in prison, installed themselves as in a chateau, and died at leisure. To fly wa-s to withdraw from the consequences of a duel; the women even blushed at liberty acquired at this price. • ( But Maurice would not have shown himself so scrupulous. To kill the dogs, to alter the door keys, what more simple ? Genevieve was not one of those splendid names calculated to attract general attention. She would not dishonor herself by flying, and besides, when could she "be disgraced ? Oh! as he bitterly Called to mind the gardens of Port Libre, so easy to scale, the chambers of Madelonnettc3, so easy of accosß to the street, the low walte ■of the Luxembourg, and the dark corr'do-s qI the Carmelites, where a resohite man could so easily penetrate by opening a window !. But was Genevieve in one of these prisons ? Then, devoured by doubt and worn out with anxiety, ho loaded Dixmer with imprecations; he threatened, and nourished his hatred against this man, whose cowardly vengeance concealed itself under an apparent devotion to the royal cause. " I will find him out thus," thought Maurice ; " if he wishes to save the unhappy woman, ie will show himself; if he wishes to ruin her, he will 'insult her. I will find him out, the scoundrel, and it will be an evil' day for him !" On the morning of the day when the events occurred which we are about to relate, Maurice went out early to take his usual station at the Revolutionary Tribunal, leaving Louis asleep. He was suddenly awakened by a loud noise at the door, the voice of women, and the butt-end.* of guns. He threw around him the startled glance of a surprised man, who wished to convince himself that nothing that could compromise him was in view. Four sectionaries, two gendarmes, and a commusary entered at the same moment. This visit was sufficiently significant, and Louis hastened to dress himself. " Do you come to arrest me ?" said he. " Yesj Citizen Louis." •• "What for ?" " Because you are suspected."

" Ah ! all right." The commissary muttered some words ih a low tone about arrest by proeesvcrbal.

" Where is your friend ?" said he immediately. " What friend ?" " The Citizen Maurice Lindey." "At home, probably." " No ; he lodges here." " He! go along! Search, and if you Hud-" . ~ •, « " Here is the denunciation,' said the commissary ; " it is plain enough," offering Louis a paper with vile writing and aniginatical orthography. It stated that every morning the Citizen Lindey was seen going out of the Citizen Louis' house, suspected, and ordered for arrest. The denunciation was signed " Simon." " Why. the cobbler will lose his practice, if he follows two trades at the same time—a spy and boot-mender. ( He" lis a Caesar, this Monsieur Simon," and he burst into a fit of laughter. " The Citizen Maurice, where is the Citizen Maurice ?" said the commissary. •' We summon you to deliver him up." " When I tell you he is not here ? The commissary passed into the chamber adjoining, then ascended to the loft where Louis' official slept, and at last opened a lower apartment, but found no no trace of Maurice. But. upon the dining-room table a recently written letter attracted the attention of the commissary. It was from Maurice, who had deposited it there on leaving in the morning (as they slept together) without awakening his friend. " I go to the tribunal," said Maurice; "take breakfast without me. I shall not return till night."

" Citizens," eaid Louis, " however anxious I may feci to obey your commands, I can not follow you en chemise. Allow my official to assist me." " Aristocrat," said a voice, " do you require assistance to put on your breeches ?" "Ah, raoa Dieu ! yea," said Louis; " I resemble the Citizen Dagobert—mind\. I did not say kind." " Well, drees," said the commissary; " but make haste." The official came down to help Ms master to dross. However, it was not exactly that Louis roquired a valet de chambre, it was that nothing might escape the notice of the official, and that, consequently, ho might detail everything to Maurice.

" Mow, messieurs—pardon, citizens. Now, citizens, 1 I ami ready, and will follow you, but permit me, I beg, to carry with me the last volume of ' Lettres a Einile,' by Monsieur Demonstier, which nas just appeared, and I have not read. It w,'ill enliven the hours of my captivity." " Your captivity," said Simon, sharply, now become municipal in his turn, and entering, followed by four eectiouarics, " that will not last long. You figure in the proces of the woman who wanted to assist the Austrian to escape. They try her to-day, and to-morrow

your turn will come." r ' ~ ; ""' ' " Cobbler," eaid Louis, " you cut your soles too quickly." " Yes, but what a nice stroke from the leather cutting knife !" replied JSimon; "you will eee, you -will see, my fino grenadier." Louis ehrugged his shoulders. " Well," eaid he, " let us go; I am waiting for you." As each one turned round to descend tin- staircase Louis bestowed on the municipal Simon so vigorous a kick with his foot that he sent him rolling and howling down the entire flight of stairs. The s.cctionaries could not restrain their laushter. Louis put his hands in his pockets. "In the exercise of my functions," eaid Simon, livid with rage. "Pardieu!" said Louis, "are wc not all here in the exercise of our functions ?" He got into tli3 carriage and was conducted by the commissary to the Palais de Justice. TO BE CONTINUED.

i in.- Internal Conundrums. "By jingo," said Hicks, "I really can't stand it in this country. I've got to move out." "Whats the matter?" "Oh, its a country- of problems; they are all interesting, and therefore exhausting-. All summer it's who's to be President? All the autumn it's who's to be football champion? Before Chrismas it's what shall I give you? After Christmas it's what'll I swear-off? All through the winter it's who's the best plumber in town? —" "But, my dear fellow, there's rest in the spring." "Not a bit of it. "When spring comes, It's where shall we go this "summer?" "Well, my dear boy, to what other country can you go where you don't have very much the same problem " "That's just ijt. That's another beast of a conundrum that's eternally bothering us in this country I"—-Harp-er's Eaa&r.

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Bibliographic details

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXX, Issue 1500, 8 February 1898, Page 2

Word Count
3,457

The Novelist Cromwell Argus, Volume XXX, Issue 1500, 8 February 1898, Page 2

The Novelist Cromwell Argus, Volume XXX, Issue 1500, 8 February 1898, Page 2

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