THE CHEVALIER de MAISON ROUGE.

Western Star, Issue 2218, 1 July 1898, Page 5

THE CHEVALIER de MAISON ROUGE.

CHAPTER XLlT.—Continued,

Tion was just completed when ten o'clock struck, and the queen, holding the piece of bread in her band, sadly counted the strokes ‘which vibrated slowly and distinctly, when she heard at one of the windows opening upon the court termed “ l.a Conr des Femmes." a grating sound, like that produced by a diamond dividing the glass This noise was followed by a clash upon the window, and was several times repeated. intending to conceal the cough of n man. Then at tin* corner of the glass, a small roll of paper appeareU, widely glided slowly, and fell on the inside of the wall. The queen then heard the sound of keys jingling and clashing against each other, and receding footsteps on the pavement. She was aware that the window was perforated at this corner, and that through this a pert uni the departing' individual had conveyed a paper, which doubtless contained a billet. It was now lying on the ground. The queen covered her eyes, listening if either of her guards were approaching, but heard them conversing in a low tone as usual, as if with the intention of not annoying her with their voices. Then sic moved softly, holding her breath, and secured the paper, which Contained fsome minute and had substance concealed in a. ease, which, falling on the bricks, sounded like metal. It was the most exquisite file that could be' imagined—more of the jewel than the tool—one of those inventions in steel with which the most feeble and uninitiated, hand could, in a quarter of an hour, divide a bar of iron.

“ Madame.” said the (paper, “ tomorrow, at half-past nine, a man will be conversing with the gendarmes who guard yon, through the window of the Conr des Femmes. During this time your majesty will saw the bar of your window. This advice reaches you from right. Cut slanting : a quarter of an hour will suffice for your majesty, and then be prepared to escape through the window. This advice reaches you from one of your mast devoted and faithful subjects, one who has consecrated his life to your majesty's service, and would be happy also to sacrifice if for you.” “ Oh 1” murmured the queen. “ it must be a snare. But no. this writing apjtears familiar to me—it is the same as at the temple. It is—it must be the Chevalier de Maison Rouge ! God is perhaps willing that I should escape.” And the queen fell on her knees, and took refuge in prayer, the only balm and consolation undenied to the untor! unate prisoner.

CHAPTER XLIII. THE PREPARATIONS OP DIXMER, Tin; morrow, prefaced by a sleepless night, at length arrived. The day broke at last, (presenting a terrible appearance, whoa it might, without exaggeration. be said the sky was the color of blood; indeed, each day at this epoch, and in 'this year, however beautiful the sun, had a livid hue. The queen at length' slept, but it was a sleep without repose. With her eyes closed, she saw nothing but blood ; with her understanding leadened, she heard nothing but smothered cries of despair. She had dropped aqleep with the file in her hand. One part of tin 1 day was devoted by her to prayer, and the guards seeing her often thus 'engaged'; did not feel any alarm at what they considered an increase jot religious feeling. From time to time, however, she examined the file transmitted to her by one of her intended deliverers, and compared the

fragility of the instrument with the strength of the bar. For tuna telly, these bars were only secured in the wall on one side—-that is to say, at the lower part. The upper part was set ill a cross-bar ; the lower part divided., there was only to pull tho bar, and it, of' course, would yield. But it was not these physical difficulties which arrested the queen. She perfectly comprehended the thing was practicable, and it was this very possibility which caused hope, like a brilliant meteor, to flash before her eyes. She felt that, to reach her, her friends must necessarily sacrifice her

guards,, and could she at any) price consent to the death of the only individuals who, for a length of time, had evinced any interest in her. or pity for her ? I Then, opposed to this argument, were i the iron bars she was to saw asunder, | and; the bodies of these two men on the ! other side, who must fall in preventing her friends from coining to her deliver- | mice. This comprised life, liberty, and perhaps vengeance—three things, above all, so sweet, that she asked pardon of (hid for so earnestly desiring them. She believed, as to the rest, that not the slightest suspicion agitated the minds of her guards, that they had not any idea, of a snare (if sucl( a tiling existed) into which it was intended the prisoner should fall. These simple men would have betrayed themselves to eyes so much exercised as those of this woman habituated to detect evil from having so severely suffered from it. 'The queen entirely abandoned the idea that these combined overtures were con-

trived as a trap, but as the tear of being betrayed into this snare disappeared, the still greater apprehension increased of some bloody scene being enacted before her very eyes. “Strange destiny! sublime sight!” murmured she, “two conspiracies milted to save the poor queen, or, rather a. poor female prisoner, who has had no ■ means of inducing or encouraging these .. 'spiracles, which are about to take C 0,., at the same moment. Who place Perhaiis there may ho one knows? ’lajisi it may he a doubly only. Per,. to one and the sane* mine, leading ’ it, 1 might then be point. If I will • woman sacrificed saved. Hut a pofli ,- illeil before this in my stead ! two nfen . 'id might perwoman could reach me. O , able ! imhaps forgive me. Impost,. 'possible !” mind Then passed and re-passed in her , i-vi-Kuns of the great devotion of ssr>. tors for their masters, and the ancient tradition of the right exorcised by masters over the lives of their retainers — a phantasy almost effaced by the royal doom and dentil. “ Anne of Austria might have accepted this,” said she. “ Auue of Austria would have yielded every consideration to the safety of the royal person. Anne of Austria is of the same blood, and was almost in the same situation as myself. What madness to be following the royal career of Anne of Austria in France 1 Was I not brought hither? Two kings said it is important that two royal children, who have never seen or loved each other, who perhajis (never may love each other, should be married >at the same altar, to Hie upon tiie scaffold. And then, will not my death accelerate that of my poor child, who, in the eyes; of my friends, is still King of France? And when my son, like his father, is dead, will not their shades both smile on me in pity, seeing that to spare some drops of plebeian blood I have stained with my blood the remains of the throne of St. Louis ?” In this anguish of thought, this fever of doubt, every pulsation redoubled, and in a tempest of terror and fear, the unhappy queen continued till the arrival of night. She had several times closely scrutinized her guards, but they exhibited an air of the greatest calm. Never/ had she been more forcibly struck by the invariable kindness and attention of these two uneducated men. When the darkness of night reigned in her cell, when this steps of the round, the noise of resounding arms, and the harking of dogs, awoke the echoes of the gloomy vaults ; when all the horrors of the prison revealed themsoives, gloomy and hopeless, Marie Antoinette subdued by the natural weakness of a woman, succumbed to terror.

‘ UU„ I w'ijl fly !( I will fly 1” aaid she

“ Yes, yes : I {viilll fly ! When ho comes, when he speaks, f will saw the liar. I will await what God and my deliverers ordain me. I owe it to my children; they shall not murder them. And if they are sacrificed, and 1 am free—oh, then, at least, I—” She did not conclude : her eyes closed and her deep emotion checked all utterance. This was a. frightful vision to the unfortunate queen, inclosed with gratings and iron bars. But, as usual, it soon disappeared, and in its stead another presented itself to her vmw. She saw herself in the midsb of a dark, stern, inflexible army ; she orders the fire to consume, ithe swords to ho drawn, and vengeance to be taken on a nation she will no longer claim as her own.

During this time Gilbert and Duchesne were tranquilly preparing their evening repast. At this time, also, Dixmer and Genevieve entered the conciergerie, and installed themselves in the office, as usual. At the end of an hour the. registrar of the palace, having completed his business, according to custom, took his departure, leaving them alone to themselves. Directly the door closed on his colleague, Dixmer rushed toward the empty basket placed at the door in exchange for that of the evening. Then seizing the bread, he found the purse, and turned pale while reading the letter of the queen. Genevmve observed him tear it into a thousand pieces, and throw them into the mouth of the burning stove.

"ft is well,” said he ; ” all is arranged.” Then, turning toward Genevieve ; “Come here, madame,” said he; “ I must you.” Genevieve, motionless and cold as marble, gave a gesture of assent and approached; him. “ The time has arrived, madame ; listen to me.” “ Yes, monsieur.”

“ You prefer a death beneficial to your cause—a death that will insure you blessings from one part ami pity from the whole of the nation—it is uot so? —to an ignominious and revengeful end of life.”

Yes, monsieur.’

“ I might have killed you on the spot when I recognized yon at the house o! your lover, hut u man who. like myself, consecrates his life to a holy and houorale cause, ought to be able to fjiuS aside and forget his own private griels, by rendering them subservient to this cause. This I have done, or, rather, 1 intend to do. I am, as you see. denied the pleasure of doing myself justice, and have also spared your lover. Something resembling a bitter but fugitive smile flitted over the li[>s of Genevieve. “ But as for your lover, you who kuow me should well beware, I only bide my time,” . _ ~ “ Monsieur.” said Genevieve, I await my fate. Then, wherefore all this prelude ?”

“ Are you ready ?” “ Yes. I am ready. Kill me, it you choose; you have good cause to do so.” I ' Dixmer looked at (Genevieve, aim started, in spite of himself. She at this moment appeared sublimely beautiful: a glory the most brilliant of all shone around her—the glory that emanated from love. “ To continue,” said Dixmer, ‘ I have informed the queen; bhe expects you, plot withstanding she will, in all probability, raise numerous objections. You must'i overrule them all.” . “ Give me your orders, monsieufe ana I will execute them.” , “ At the moment,” continued jJjxmer, “ I knock at the door, Gilbert opens it, and with (this poniard ’’—here Dixmer threw open his coat, and, half drawing from its scabbard a double-edged poniard, “ with this I shall kill.” Genevieve shuddered. (Dixmer made a motion with his hand to command her attention. “ The instant I strike him, dart into tho second chamber that of thei queen. There is, as you are aware, no door, only a screen. You will exchange clothes with her, while I dispatch the other man. Thojn I shall take the queen’s arm, and puss through the wicket with her.” “Very well,” said Genevieve coldly. “ You understand me ?” said Dixmer* “ Yon have been seen each evening in your black taffeta mantle, which conceals your face. Place your mantle upon her majesty, and dress her precisely as you have been accustomed to dross yourself.” . . “ All shall be done as you desire,

monsieur.” “It remains now for me _ to pardon and to thank yon, madame.” Genevieve shook her head with a scornful smile.

“ I neither want your pardon nor your thanks, monsieur,” said she, extending her hand. “ What I have done, or, rather, am about to do, effaces my crime. 1 have only been guilty of weakness, and again, this weakness (recall your own conduct), monsieur, you all but forced me to commit. I withdraw myself from him; you drove me into his arms; so you are at the same time instigator, judge, and avenger. It remains for me to pardon you my death, and t do pardon you. It is I who should thank von for death, since Hie has become insupportable to me, separated from the only man I love; s-fi nee that hour especially when you severed by your savage vengeance every tie that bound me to drove his nails into his flesh. He strove to reply, but his voice failed him. He moved toward the wicket. “Time passes,” said he, at last. “ Madame, every moment is of consequence. Are you ready ?” “ 1 have told you, monsieur,’ replied Genevieve with the callnuie-ss and courage of a martyr. “ 1 attend you.” Dixmer collected his papers, saw the gates were fast closed, so that no one could enter the wicket, and then wished "to reiterate his instructions. “ It,, is unnecessary. monsieur,” said Genevieve. “1 know perfectly well nil I have to do.” “ Then adieu;” and Dixmer extended his hand, as if at this supreme moment ail recrimination was effaced before the grandeur of the situation, and the sublimity of the sacrifice. Genevieve, shud’“ring. touched with the tips of her fin- • the proffered hand of her husband, get*. ee yourself near me, madame, and “Fla, nt I have-struck Gilbert, pass the monk., on.” “I am ready. -essed with his right Then Dixmer p. 'rd; with his left ho hand Ids large pdnia. knocked at the gate. CHAPTER XLiy. * T TEl i THE PREPARATION OF THE CHHT.iv - e . During the scene described in the pi. ceding chapter as passing at the door of the wicket leading into the prison of the queen, or, rather, into the first compartment occupied by the two gendarmes, other preparations were also taking place on the opposite side—that is to say. in the Cour des Femmes. Suddenly a man apjieared, like a statue of Eton? which had detached itself from the wall. He was followed by two dogs, and was humming the “ Casira,” a song much in fashion at tb«< period. He held ip his hand a large bunch oi keys, which, in passing he had rattled against the bare which barricaded the window of the queen. The royal prisoner at first started; but, recognizing the signal, immediately opened her window softly, to commence her work, with a hand more experienced than would have been believ'd, for more than once (in the blacksmith’s shop, where her royal husband amused himself by passing part of the day), she had often with her delicate fingers handled instruments similar t« that upon which at this moment depended her every chance of safety and deliverance. Directly the man with the keys heard the queen’s window o]>en, he knocked at that of the gendarmes. “Ah, ah!” said Gilbert, looking through the window, “here is the Citizen Murdoch.*’

■‘Himself, said the turnkey. “Well, lint it appears you keep strict watch. “Much as usual, Citizen Key-bearer, seems to me you do not often find us at fault.”

“Ah!" said Murdoch, “and vigilance is more than ever necessary to-night.” “ Hah!" said Duchesne, who had now approached, “ Truly.”

11101113 IS THE CITIZEN MURDOCH

*• \\ by. then V” “ Open the window, and I will tell yoit all about it.” Gilbert opened it and shook bands with Murdoch, who bad already made friends with the two gendarmes. “What is it, Citizen Murdoch 7" repeated Gilbert. “ The sitting of the Convention has been rather warm to-day. Have you read it?"

“No. Wbat passed, then 7” “ It was first stated the Citizen Hebert bad made a discovery.”

“What?” “It is that the conspirators believed to be dead are found to bo living. There are three living.” “ Oh. yes," said Gilbert; “ Delessert and Thierrv; I have heard speak of that. 'l'hey are in England, the scoundrels ! “ And the Chevalier de Munson Rouge, said the key-bearer, raising his voice so that the queen might, hear. “What, is he in England, too?”

“ Not at all,” said Murdoch, “ he is in France,” still speaking in the same Joud key. “ He has returned, then ?” “ Tie has never quitted it.” “ Well, he has good courage,” said Duchesne.

“ Indeed be has.” “ Well, are thev going to arrest him? “Certainly: but that is much easier snid than done.” At this moment the queen’s file grated so forcibly upon the iron bar that the key-bearer feared it might be heard, notwithstanding all his efforts at concealment. He hastily trod upon the paw of the nearest dog, who uttered a prolonged how! of pain. “ Oh, poor beast!” said Gilbert. “ Bah I” said the key-bearer, “ he had not put on his sabots. Be quiet, Giroudin; will yon be quiet 7” “ Is your dog named Girondiu, Citizen Murdoch ?”

“ Yes; that is the name I have given him.”

“ And you say this,” said Duchesne, who, imprisoned himself, took a lively interest in all that related to prisoners. “ You say this ?” , “ Truly, I say this, that in the Citizen Hebert you see a good patriot. I say that the Citizen Hebert has made a proposition to return the Austrian to the temple. Dam ! Because they pretend she has only been withdrawn from, the temple to remove her from the immediate inspection of the Commune of Paris. “ Yes; and from the attempts of this cursed Maisou Rouge,” said Gilbert, “ it seems that the subterraueau passage did exist.” , “ That was the reply that Citizen feaintoz made; but Hebert said the instant that was defeated there was no more danger; that at the temple fewer precautions were requisite tor the security of Mai io Antoinette than hero; and, finally, that the temple was differently inclosed to the coueiurgerio, and another thing altogether.” " Ma foil” said Gilbert, “I wish they would remove her to the temple.” “ I understand you are tired of the confinement ?” “ No; but it makes me melancholy. Maisou Rouge coughed loudly, as the noise of the file biting through the irou bar was distinctly heard. “ What have they decided on ?” said Duchesne, when the key-bearers cough had subsided. “ It is settled that she remains here; but her trial will take place immediatefly-” “ Poor woman 1” said Gilbert. Duchesne, whose sense of hearing was no doubt more acute than that of his colleague, or his attention less ongro.sed by the recital of Murdoch, stooped down to listen on the left side of the compartment. The key-bearer saw the movement. “ So. you see, Citizen Duchesne, the attempts of the conspirators will become the move desperate, from the fact of their having less time before them for their execution. They are going to double the guards of the prisons, so look out, Citizen Gendarme, since the matter iu question is nothing less than the irruption of an armed force into the conciergeric. They will murder all, sacrifice every impediment, till they effect an entrance to the queen—to the widow of Capet, I tell you.” “Ah, hah!" how can they get inf “ Disguised as patriots, they will appear to recompense the 2nd of September. Poor wretches! and when once the gates are open. Bon soil'.” There was an instant’s silence, produced by the astonishment of the guards, while the key-bearer heard with emotions of joy and terror the continued grating of the file. Nine o clock struck. At the same moment there was a knock at the wicket, but the gendarmes, pieoccupitd, did not reply. “ Weil, wc shall see; wc shall ses,’ said Gilbert

•* And, il necessary, will die at our powts like staunch Republicans,” said Duchesne. . , ~ “ She ought soon to have finished, said the key-bearer to himself, wiping the drops of perspiration from his face. “ And vou, on your side,” said Gilbert, « keep on the lookout, I presume ? They would spare you no more than us were such an event to take place.” “ I should think so,” said the key-bear-er. “ I pass the night in going the round, '•us I fltn always on the alert; the rest ou, at least those who are relieved, of y v 'sp every other night.” can sltK moment a second summons at At this was heard. Murdoch startthe wicket v however trifling, might ed- anv event, '' of his project, mar the execution ?” demanded he, in “ What is it, then. ~ ejiite of himself. '<l Gilbert; it “ Nothing, nothing,” sa. "* minister of is only the registrar of thv 1 come to war. He is going now, anu inform me of it.” “ Oh, very well,” said Murdoch. ‘ c^The registrar still continued to lent., 1 “ Bon, bon !” cried Gilbert, withoiK leaving the window. “ Bon soir. Adieu.” “ I think he is speaking,” said Duchesne, turning toward the door. The voice of the registrar was then heard. “Come hero, Citizen Gendarme,” said he, “ I wish to speak to you.” This voice, which a.ppt*a.red overpowered by emotion, and deprived of its natural accent, startled the key-bearer, who fancied he recognized it. “ What do you want, Citizen Durand 7" said Gilbert. “ I wish to speak a To BE CONTINUED.