SAVED BY A SPIDER’S WEB

New Zealand Tablet, 24 June 1915, Page 9

SAVED BY A SPIDER’S WEB

‘ The story ? Do you want to hear it again, child V The speaker was my Aunt Herminie, a frail little old lady, with a faint voice that seemed to come from a distance. She was sitting as usual in her comfortable easy-chair, in front of an open window. She had always been delicate, and I could never understand by what miracle one who had been doomed apparently to an early death should have lived to reach the age of eighty years.

I had always been her favorite, and she had told me * the story ’ many, many times. In her youth, during the Terror, she lived in the Abbaye de Mauvoisiu, near Corbeil, which belonged to the State. Her companions there were two old ladies, Mine. Marechal and Mine. Bedouillet. This was ‘ the story ’ : One evening, about 10 o’clock, Mine. Marechal and I were sitting before the fire, chatting. Mine. Bedouillet was dozing, as the hour was late. The wind blew violently, making the sparks dance upwards from the blazing logs. Suddenly we were startled by a faint rap at the door. That you may understand our exact situation, I will mention that during the day a company of soldiers —about one hundred in all— come to the Abbaye for lodgings. Their commander, a large, florid man, brought with him an order from the authorities to that effect. The men had passed the day boisterously, drinking, singing, and card-playing. By evening they had quieted down, and were asleep. As may be imagined, such neighbors were not very comfortable ones for three unprotected women. Mme. MarechaTs husband was absent Mme. Bedouillet was a widow, and I was an orphan. We had securely locked the door of our apartment, which was on the ground floor between the road and the chapel. The rap was soon repeated, louder this time. We looked at each other with eyes full of fear.. We were tempted to feign deafness or sickness but in those stirring days no one dared pretend. If we were to" refuse hospitality to the Revolutionists, we should be considered as suspects, and the guillotine awaited such. Mme. Marechal began to say her prayers. Mme. Bedouillet, roused by the rapping, sat helpless, trembling in every limb. I was young, and it was my duty to open the door. I did so, -and saw outside a

- body 'of men wearing broad brimmed hats making 'af black spot in the moonlit road. I * v I was about to close the door precipitately,’ when : ; one of their number, came forward, with outstretched hands, and said in pleading tones: ‘ Have pity on us, citizeness, and give us shelter for the night! We are worn out with fatigue and hunger. Have pity !’ *' ■/ /■/■/ /T/*/////; ‘ Who are you?’ I asked.. ; ’ // -- .y Fugitives. , Members of “Gironde.” 7We are pursued by our enemiesi . Save us!’ ■ /:// You poor fellows!’ 1 /sympathetically. /‘I cannot keep you. /You must hurry away. The chapel is full of soldiers. ‘ If they were to see you, it wouldmean certain death 'to you all.’ - ‘ v - f: A moment of hesitation followed. Then a pale, delicate, young man, who was leaning upon a companion,'faltered: - . r

‘I can’t go a step further. March on, comrades and leave me ! I can only die.’ But the Girondins were brave men-, and they had no idea of abandoning one of their number. ‘ Is there no place where we can rest for two hours -—just two short hours?’ begged the leader.‘No place but this room,’ I replied. . ‘But the door at the end, which you see, leads into the chapel. The soldiers have no other way of getting out.’ An expression of despair settled on the man’s face. ' ' , ; :

‘Good-bye, citizeness!’ he said. ~ ‘The country is full of men hunting us. Pray that we may escape.’ I was overcome with pity for the suffering men. In fact my pity overcame my prudence. I was seized with a sort of fever or exaltation, and, as they were about to go, I said : ‘ There is. perhaps a means of saving you, but it is a very dangerous one.’ All crowded forward to listen, and I could hear exclamations of dismay from the women behind me. ‘ At the farther end of the chapel, over the altar, is a loft. Once there you would be quite safe. But to get there : ’ I paused to collect myself, and then continued : . . A ‘ You would have to walk along a narrow projection, or cornice, bordering the high wall, directly above the heads of the sleepers. If one of them should awaken and look up, you would be discovered.’ ‘ Who ill show us the way V asked the leader, with fresh hone. ‘ I will,’ I replied, scarce knowing what I said. I seemed to be inspired, to no longer belong to myself. To save those men was my only desire. They held a short consultation, then their leader said : 1 Thanks for your kindness, citizeness! We accept your offer.’ I threw open the door, and they all tiptoed into the room. There were ten of them, and they certainly looked as if they were in need of help. ‘ These stairs lead up to the cornice,’ I said, pointing to a staircase on one side of the room. *At the top there is a door. I will open it and look down into the chapel. If everything is quiet I will give you the signal to come up. You will follow me along the narrow ledge, until we reach the door into the loft. Once past that, you can rest. The soldiers will leave early in the morning.’ ..... ,

Thereupon I ascended the steps, opened the door, and looked down. The soldiers were lying about in groups on the flagging asleep, with their heads pillowed on their knapsacks. The wind howled around the tower, drowning the sound of them heavy breathing. Rays of moonlight ilumined one side of the wall, leaving the other in the shadow. Fortunately, the projection along which we were creeping was on the dark side. It stretched out before us, straight and narrow, about forty feet above the sleepers. , ~

I signalled to the men, and, in a moment they were on the stairs ; then I set out on the perilous passage. Ah, what a trip ! Never shall I forget it. ; I crept along on tiptoe',; one hand clinging to the wall, the other, waving, into empty,, space,, fearful at every step

#. 1 • -*'.w ■ ■■ •• /. •' ■ • .. • - *•■ - •:: •'"- of losing my balance or stumbling over a loose stone' or other object.* Behind me came my mute followers, who were . risking their- lives for miab. The eyes of each were on the man just ahead, and the hopes of all on that small door, ; which grew in Size as we approached: .! After an eternity, it seemed to me, we reached it. I put out my hand and pushed it half way open. Ah! then I thought we were surely lost. The rusty hinges creaked, and the sharp grinding sound pierced to the very marrow of my bones. ‘ ' i ; - What’s going on up there?’ growled a halfawakened soldier. * I stood motionless, hardly daring to breathe. My followers did the same. Just then a strong gust of wind shook the tower, and a voice replied angrily : ‘ It’s nothing but the wind. Go to sleep, you fool!’ •

The first soldier listened a moment, but, hearing nothing, settled himself back, and was soon breathing heavily.

The door was only partly open, but there was room to pass through. No one ventured to touch it. You could scarcely imagine the joy of the poor fellows when at last they found themselves in a place where they could have a little repose. They fell on their knees and actually kissed the hem of my dress. One would have thought I had saved them. Alas ! the danger was still there, menacing and terrible. I left them arid groped my way back to my apartment, where my companions were anxiously awaiting me. Mme. Marechal, cold and severe, loaded me with reproaches. In her opinion I had done a very foolish act : I had needlessly risked my own life as well as those of the men. It would have been far better to let them go on their way. * Mme. Bedouillet defended me. She pressed me to her heart and said I was brave and good.

We down before the fire once more, and in low tones discussed the events of the night. Our situation was a critical one. Supposing those hostile forces should clash? What would become of us? Mme. Marechal was in favor of. stealing out and going across the fields to Corbeil, leaving the men to ‘ fight it out themselves.’ Mme. Bedouillet and I would not consent to such a course ; so we sat there and whispered and dozed and prayed at intervals through the seemingly endless hours.

With the first rays of dawn we thought that our anxiety would soon come to an end; but, instead, a fresh excitement awaited us. We heard down the road the pounding of hoofs, and the sounds grew louder as we listened. A body of horsemen was approaching. What could it mean ?

The men drew rein in front of the Abbaye, and soon there was loud rapping at the door. As before, I went to open it. A man, stout and florid, stood there, and with him were some hussars, who had dismounted. ‘Are they here, citizeness?’ he asked. He was a civil official, and he was out of breath from his unwonted exercise. I trembled in every limb, but soon recovered my outward composure.

‘Here? Who? I replied, apparently surprised. ‘ Those dogs of Girondins.’ ‘ There are some soldiers here, quartered in the chapel,’’ I said, evasively. We’ll find out,’ said the big man. ‘ Calling a hussar, he bade him hold his horse while he dismounted, which he did most awkwardly. At first sight his face seemed kindly, but a second glance showed that his eyes were crafty and cruel. He and his companions entered and walked straight into the chapel." Their appearance caused a flurry among the men, who t were " soon on their feet and accoutred. Their leader came forward and saluted ceremoniously. Evidently the newcomer was a personage of some importance. From the outside we could not hear what he said", although we strained our ears. After the colloquy

' -*' /'v, - tT V: f ■ * 'At the man came but and began his questioning again.' Addressing me, he said ‘ The peasants around here told me that a party- of Girondists' took' refuge last night in the Abbaye. , Are ; you sure they are not hereabouts?'. . ’ ‘ - ‘ You can see for yourself who are here,’ I said. He then put the same question to Mine. Marechal, who answered, as I did. .. Mme. Bedouillet hesitated, and I was afraid she was about to betray us. - I gave ■ her a stern look, and she stammered out: • • , : v ‘ I .don’t know; ,L was asleep and didn’t hear any- ' thing.’ . - - - •..Remember, your lives are at stake!’ said the ; for* midable inquisitor. " ' ■*' ’ ’ T . - ’ % We knew that, and it was indeed a terrible moment. It seemed as if the prying eyes around could read our very thoughts. . ‘ >• , - , ? ‘I am certain they are here,’ added the official, looking around. How I hoped he would not raise his eyes to the half-open door above the chapel! But this is exactly what he did. *Ah!’ he exclaimed. ‘ There’s a door up there. We will see where it leads. Lead the way to it, citizeness.’ • . - .

There was nothing to do but obey. With faltering steps I mounted the little staircase, followed, by the man and two hussars. I had nothing to hop© for. Only a miracle to save the Girondins now. But I had struggled thus far, and I resolved to. struggle to the end.

I soon reached the portion leading to the door. . I started out, followed by the official, who had difficulty in walking along the ledge because of his corpulence. He - was evidently ill at ease ; but the soldiers below were , watching us, and his pride urged him, forward. - He advanced cautiously, his broad back braced against the wall. He certainly cut a sorry figure; but no one was in the mood for smiling, I can assure you. I crept along, fearful every moment of seeing the * door pushed shut, in a last attempt of desperate men to defend themselves.

We had reached the middle of the distance, when the official halted, looked ahead, and turning to those behind him, exclaimed; y ■ ■ , ‘ Spider webs!’ ‘ ' And, in truth, by providential good fortune, a great web, which had been torn apart the night before when we opened the door, had been partially repaired, the threads stretching entirely across the opening. With evident relief, the official said : There’s no use in going any further. Surely no one has passed through that door very lately.’ All agreed, and we slowly retraced our steps. There is little more to tell, The Girondins were savedfor the time being, at least, and we' with them. The soldiers left in the course of an hour or so, and the men rested quietly until. nightfall. We gave them food, and bade them God-speed. . - ■ I never knew their fate, but all my life there has remained with me the memory of—that spider web !’