CHAPTER XII
Nantes
Harry was very pleased to see a look of recognition on Victor'sface as he came up to the side of his couch.
"Well, Victor," he said cheerfully, "I am glad to see you lookingmore yourself again."
Victor nodded assent, and his hand feebly returned the pressure ofHarry's.
"I can't understand it," he said after a pause. "I seem to be ina dream; but it is true Marie is here, isn't it?"
"Oh yes! She is chatting now with her sisters, Jeanne and Virginie,you know."
"And why am I here?" Victor asked, looking round the room. "Marietells me not to ask questions."
"No. There will be plenty of time for that afterwards, Victor. Itis all simple enough. You were out with me, and there was an accident,and you got hurt. So I and a workman who was passing carried youinto his house, and he and his wife have been taking care of you.You have been very ill, but you are getting on better now. Mariehas come to nurse you, and she won't leave you until you are quitewell. Now, I think that's enough for you, and the doctor would bevery angry if he knew I had told you so much; because he said youwere not to bother yourself about things at all, but just to sleepas much as you can, and eat as much as you can, and listen to Marietalking and reading to you, and not trouble your brain in any way,because it's your brain that has gone wrong, and any thinking willbe very bad for it."
This explanation seemed satisfactory to Victor, who soon afterdozed off to sleep, and Harry joined the party in Marie's sitting-room.
"Oh, if I could but keep them here with me, Harry, what a comfortit would be!"
"I know that it would, Marie; but it is too dangerous. You know theywere denounced at Louise Moulin's. Already there is risk enough inyou and Victor being here. The search for Royalists does not relax,indeed it seems to become more and more keen every day. Victor'sextreme illness is your best safeguard. The neighbours have heardthat Jacques has had a fellow-workman dangerously ill for some longtime, and Victor can no longer be looked upon as a stranger to besuspected, while your coming here to help nurse him will seem sonatural a step that it will excite no comment. But any fresh additionof numbers would be sure to give rise to talk, and you would havea commissary of the Commune here in no time to make inquiries, andto ask for your papers of domicile."
"Yes, I know that it would be too dangerous to risk," Marie agreed;"but I tremble at the thought of their journey."
"I have every hope that we shall get through safely," Harry said."I have some good news I have not yet told you. I have received apaper from Robespierre stating that I have been his secretary, andrecommending us all to the authorities, so that we can dispensewith the ordinary papers which they would otherwise ask for."
"That is good news, indeed, Harry," Marie said. "That relieves meof half my anxiety. Once on the sea-coast it will be comparativelyeasy to get a passage to England. My dear Harry, you surprise memore every day, and I am ashamed to think that when our dear fatherand mother first told me that they had accepted your noble offerto look after us, I was inclined in my heart to think that suchprotection would be of little use. You see I confess, Harry; andyou know that is half-way to forgiveness."
"There is nothing either to confess or forgive," Harry said witha smile. "It was perfectly natural for you to think that a ladof eighteen was a slender reed to lean on in the time of troubleand danger, and that it was only by a lucky accident--for savingRobespierre's life was but an accident--that I have been enabledto be of use to you; and that I have now a pass which will enableme to take your sisters with comparative safety as far as Nantes.Had it not been for that I could have done little indeed to aidyou."
"You must not say so, Harry. You are too modest. Besides, was itnot your quickness that saved Victor? No, we owe you everything, anddisclaimers are only thrown away. As for me, I feel quite jealousof Jeanne's superior perspicacity, for she trusted you absolutelyfrom the first."
"It has nothing to do with perspicacity," Jeanne said. "Harry savedmy life from that dreadful dog, and after that I knew if there wasdanger he would be able to get us out of it. That is, if it werepossible for anyone to do so."
"I hope I shall be able to justify your trust, Jeanne, and arrivesafely with you at my father's house. I can promise you the warmestof welcomes from my mother and sisters. I fear they must long sincehave given me up for dead. I shall be like a shipwrecked marinerwho has been cast upon an island and given up as lost. But my fatheralways used to say, that if I was a first-rate hand at gettinginto scrapes, I was equally good at getting out of them again; andI don't think they will have quite despaired of seeing me again,especially as they know, by the last letters I sent them, thatyou all said I could speak French well enough to pass anywhere asa native."
"How surprised they will be at your arriving with two girls andLouise!" Virginie said.
"They will be pleased more than surprised," Harry replied. "I havewritten so much about you in my letters that the girls and my motherwill be delighted to see you."
"Besides," Jeanne added, "the boys will have told them you arewaiting behind with us, so they will not be so surprised as theywould otherwise have been. But it will be funny, arriving amongpeople who don't speak a word of our language."
"You will soon be at home with them," said Harry reassuringly."Jenny and Kate are just about your ages, and I expect they willhave grown so I shall hardly know them. It is nearly three yearsnow since I left them, and I have to look at you to assure myselfthat Jenny will have grown almost into a young woman. Now I shallgo out for a bit, and leave you to chat together.
"You need not fidget about Victor, Marie. Elise is with him, andwill come and let you know if he wakes; but I hope that he has goneoff fairly to sleep for the night. He knew me, and I think I haveput his mind at rest a little as to how he came here. I have toldhim it was an accident in the street, and that we brought him inhere, and he has been too ill since to be moved. I don't think hewill ask any more questions. If I were you I would, while nursing,resume the dress you came here in. It will be less puzzling to himthan the one you are wearing now."
The little party started the next morning at day-light, and at thevery first village they came to, found how strict was the watch uponpersons leaving Paris, and had reason to congratulate themselvesupon the possession of Robespierre's safe-conduct. No sooner hadthey sat down in the village cabaret to breakfast than an officialwith a red scarf presented himself, and asked them who they wereand where they were going. The production of the document at oncesatisfied him; and, indeed, he immediately addressed the young manin somewhat shabby garments, who had the honour of being secretaryto the great man, in tones of the greatest respect.
Virginie at present was shy and awkward in her attire as a boy, andindeed had there been time the night before to procure a disguisefor her as a girl it would have been done, although Harry's opinionthat it would attract less attention for her to travel as a boywas unchanged; but he would have given way had it been possible tomake the change. As any delay, however, would certainly be dangerous,the original plan was adhered to.
Marie had cut her sister's hair short, and no one would havesuspected from her appearance that Virginie was not what she seemed,a good-looking boy of some thirteen years old. With their bundlesin their hands they trudged along the road, and stopped for thenight at a village about twelve miles out of Paris. After havingagain satisfied the authorities by the production of the pass,Harry made inquiries, and the next morning went two miles away toa farm-house, where there was, he heard, a cart and horse to bedisposed of.
After much haggling over terms--since to give the sum that wasfirst asked would have excited surprise, and perhaps suspicion--Harrybecame the possessor of the horse and cart, drove triumphantlyback to the village, and having stowed Louise and the two girls onsome straw in the bottom of the cart, proceeded on the journey.
They met with no adventure whatever on the journey to Nantes, whichwas performed in ten days. The weather was bitterly cold. A
lthoughit was now well on in March the snow lay deep on the ground; butthe girls were well wrapped up, and the cart was filled with straw,which helped to keep them warm. Harry walked for the most part bythe side of the horse's head, for they could only proceed at foot-pace;but he sometimes climbed up and took the reins, the better to chatwith the girls and keep up their spirits. There was no occasion forthis in the case of Jeanne, but Virginie often gave way and criedbitterly, and the old nurse suffered greatly from the cold in spiteof her warm wraps.
On arriving at Nantes Harry proceeded first to the Maine, and onproducing Robespierre's document received a permit to lodge in thetown. He then looked for apartments in the neighbourhood of theriver, and when he had obtained them disposed of the horse and cart.The statement that he was Robespierre's secretary at once securedfor him much attention from the authorities, and he was invited tobecome a member of the Revolutionary Committee during his stay inthe town, in order that he might see for himself with what zealthe instructions received from Paris for the extermination of theRoyalists were being carried out.
This offer he accepted, as it would enable him to obtain informationof all that was going on. Had it not been for this he would gladlyhave declined the honour, for his feelings were daily harrowed byarrests and massacres which he was powerless to prevent, for hedid not venture to raise his voice on the side of mercy, for had hedone so, it would have been certain to excite suspicion. He foundthat, horrible as were the atrocities committed in Paris, theywere even surpassed by those which were enacted in the provinces,and that in Nantes in particular a terrible persecution was ragingunder the direction of Carrier, who had been sent down from Parisas commissioner from the Commune there.
Harry's next object was to make the acquaintance of some of thefishermen, and to find out what vessels were engaged in smugglinggoods across to England; for it was in one of these alone that hecould hope to cross the Channel. This, however, he found much moredifficult than he had expected.
The terror was universal. The news of the execution of the kinghad heightened the dismay. Massacres were going on all over France.The lowest ruffians in all the great towns were now their masters,and under pretended accusations were wreaking their hate upon therespectable inhabitants. Private enmities were wiped out in blood.None were too high or too low to be denounced as Royalists, anddenunciation was followed as a matter of course by a mock trialand execution. Every man distrusted his neighbour, and fear causedthose who most loathed and hated the existing regime to be loudestin their advocacy of it. There were spies everywhere--men whoreceived blood-money for every victim they denounced.
Thus, then, Harry's efforts to make acquaintances among thesailors met with very slight success. He was a stranger, and thatwas sufficient to cause distrust, and ere long it became whisperedthat he had come from Paris with special authority to hasten on thework of extirpation of the enemies of the state. Soon, therefore,Harry perceived that as he moved along the quay little groups ofsailors and fishermen talking together broke up at his approach, themen sauntering off to the wine-shops, and any he accosted repliedcivilly indeed, but with embarrassment and restraint; and althoughany questions of a general character were answered, a profoundignorance was manifested upon the subject upon which he wished togain information. The sailors all seemed to know that occasionallycargoes of spirits were run from the river to England, but nonecould name any vessel engaged in the trade. Harry soon perceivedthat he was regarded with absolute hostility, and one day one ofthe sailors said to him quietly:
"Citizen, I am a good sans-culotte, and I warn you, you had bestnot come down the river after dark, for there is a strong feelingagainst you; and unless you would like your body to be fished outof the river with half a dozen knife-holes in it, you will take myadvice."
Harry began to feel almost crushed under his responsibilities. Hisattendance at the Revolutionary Committee tried him greatly. Hemade no progress whatever in his efforts to obtain a passage; andto add to his trouble the old nurse, who had been much exhaustedby the change from her usual habits, and the inclemency of theweather on her journey, instead of gaining strength appeared to berapidly losing it, and was forced to take to her bed. The terribleevents in Paris, and the long strain of anxiety as to the safetyof the girls and the fate of Marie, had completely exhausted herstrength, and the last six months had aged her as many years. Harrytried hard to keep up his appearance of hopefulness, and to cheerthe girls; but Jeanne's quick eye speedily perceived the change inhim.
"You are wearing yourself out, Harry," she said one evening as theywere sitting by the fire, while Virginie was tending Louise in thenext room. "I can see it in your face. It is of no use your tryingto deceive me. You tell us every day that you hope soon to gethold of the captain of a boat sailing for England; but I know thatin reality you are making no progress. All those months when wewere hoping to get Marie out of prison--though it seemed next toimpossible--you told us not to despair, and I knew you did notdespair yourself; but now it is different. I am sure that you doin your heart almost give up hope. Why don't you trust me, Harry?I may not be able to do much, but I might try to cheer you. Youhave been comforting us all this time. Surely it is time I took myturn. I am not a child now."
"I feel like one just at present," Harry said unsteadily withquivering lips. "I feel sometimes as if--as we used to say atschool--I could cry for twopence. I know, Jeanne, I can trust you, andit isn't because I doubted your courage that I have not told youexactly how things are going on, but because it is entirely uponyou now that Louise and Virginie have to depend, and I do not wishto put any more weight on your shoulders; but it will be a reliefto me to tell you exactly how we stand."
Harry then told her how completely he had failed with the sailors,and how an actual feeling of hostility against him had arisen.
"I think I could have stood that, Jeanne; but it is that terriblecommittee that tries me. It is so awful hearing these fiends markingout their victims and exulting over their murder, that at times Ifeel tempted to throw myself upon some of them and strangle them."
"It must be dreadful, Harry," Jeanne said soothingly. "Will it notbe possible for you to give out that you are ill, and so absentyourself for a time from their meetings? I am sure you look ill--illenough for anything. As to the sailors, do not let that worryyou. Even if you could hear of a ship at present it would be of nouse. I couldn't leave Louise; she seems to me to be getting worseand worse, and the doctor you called in three days ago thinksso too. I can see it by his face. I think he is a good man. Thewoman whose sick child I sat up with last night tells me the poorall love him. I am sure he guesses that we are not what we seem.He said this morning to me:
"' I cannot do much for your grandmother. It is a general break-up.I have many cases like it of old people and women upon whom theanxiety of the times has told. Do not worry yourself with watching,child. She will sleep quietly, and will not need attendance. Ifyou don't mind I shall have you on my hands. Anxiety affects theyoung as well as the old.'
"At anyrate, you see, we cannot think of leaving here at present.Louise has risked everything for us. It is quite impossible forus to leave her now, so do not let that worry you. We are all inGod's hands, Harry, and we must wait patiently what He may sendus."
"We will wait patiently," Harry said. "I feel better now, Jeanne,and you shall not see me give way again. What has been worrying memost is the thought that it would have been wiser to have carriedout some other plan--to have put you and Virginie, for instance,in some farmhouse not far from Paris, and for you to have waitedthere till the storm blew over."
"You must never think that, Harry," Jeanne said earnestly. "Youknow we all talked it over dozens of times, Louise and all of us,and we agreed that this was our best chance, and Marie when shecame out quite thought so too. So, whatever comes, you must notblame yourself in the slightest. Wherever we were we were in danger,and might have been denounced."
"I arranged it all, Jeanne. I have the responsibility of your beinghere
."
"And to an equal extent you would have had the responsibility ofour being anywhere else. So it is of no use letting that troubleyou. Now, as to the sailors, you know I have made the acquaintanceof some of the women in our street. Some of them are sailors' wives,and possibly through them I may be able to hear about ships. Atanyrate I could try."
"Perhaps you could, Jeanne; but be very, very careful what questionsyou put, or you might be betrayed."
"I don't think there is much fear of that, Harry. The women aremore outspoken than the men. Some of them are with what they callthe people; but it is clear that others are quite the other way.You see trade has been almost stopped, and there is great sufferingamong the sailors and their families. Of course I have been verycareful not to seem to have more money than other people; butI have been able to make soups and things--I have learned to bequite a cook from seeing Louise at work--and I take them to thosethat are very poor, especially if they have children ill, and Ithink I have won some of their hearts."
"You win everyone's heart who comes near you, Jeanne, I think,"Harry said earnestly.
Jeanne flushed a rosy red, but said with a laugh:
"Now, Harry, you are turning flatterer. We are not at the chateaunow, sir, so your pretty speeches are quite thrown away; and nowI shall go and take Virginie's place and send her in to you."
And so another month went by, and then the old nurse quietlypassed away. She was buried, to the girls' great grief, withoutany religious ceremony, for the priests were all in hiding or hadbeen murdered, and France had solemnly renounced God and placedReason on His throne.
In the meantime Jeanne had been steadily carrying on her work amongher poorer neighbours, sitting up at night with sick children, andsupplying food to starving little ones, saying quietly in reply tothe words of gratitude of the women:
"My grandmother has laid by savings during her long years ofservice. She will not want it long, and we are old enough to workfor ourselves; besides, our brother Henri will take care of us. Sowe are glad to be able to help those who need it."
While she worked she kept her ears open, and from the talk of thewomen learned that the husbands of one or two of them were employed invessels engaged in carrying on smuggling operations with England.A few days after the death of Louise one of these women, whosechild Jeanne had helped to nurse through a fever and had broughtround by keeping it well supplied with good food, exclaimed:
"Oh, how much we owe you, mademoiselle, for your goodness!"
"You must not call me mademoiselle," Jeanne said, shaking her head."It would do you harm and me too if it were heard."
"It comes so natural," the woman said with a sigh. "I was in serviceonce in a good family before I married Adolphe. But I know thatyou are not one of those people who say there is no God, because Isaw you kneel down and pray by Julie's bed when you thought I wasasleep. I expect Adolphe home in a day or two. The poor fellowwill be wild with delight when he sees the little one on its feetagain. When he went away a fortnight ago he did not expect everto see her alive again, and it almost broke his heart. But whatwas he to do? There are so many men out of work that if he hadnot sailed in the lugger there would have been scores to take hisplace, and he might not perhaps have been taken on again."
"He has been to England, has he not?" Jeanne asked.
"Yes; the lugger carries silks and brandy. It is a dangerous trade,for the Channel is swarming with English cruisers. But what is heto do? One must live."
"Is your husband in favour of the new state of things?" Jeanneasked.
"Not in his heart, mademoiselle, any more than I am, but he holdshis tongue. Most of the sailors in the port hate these murderingtyrants of ours; but what can we do?"
"Well, Marthe, I am sure I can trust you, and your husband can helpme if he will."
"Surely you can trust me," the woman said. "I would lay down mylife for you, and I know Adolphe would do so too when he knows whatyou have done for us."
"Well, then, Marthe, I and my sister and my brother Henri are anxiousto be taken to England. We are ready to pay well for a passage,but we have not known how to set about it."
"I thought it might be that," Marthe said quietly; "for anyone whoknows the ways of gentlefolk, as I do, could see with half an eyethat you are not one of us. But they say, mademoiselle, that yourbrother is a friend of Robespierre, and that he is one of thecommittee here."
"He is only pretending, Marthe, in order that no suspicion shouldfall upon us. But he finds that the sailors distrust him, and hecannot get to speak to them about taking a passage, so I thoughtI would speak to you, and you can tell me when a boat is sailingand who is her captain."
"Adolphe will manage all that for you, never fear," the womansaid. "I know that many a poor soul has been hidden away on boardthe smuggler's craft and got safely out of the country; but ofcourse it's a risk, for it is death to assist any of the suspects.Still the sailors are ready to run the risk, and indeed they haven'tmuch fear of the consequences if they are caught, for the sailorpopulation here are very strong, and they would not stand quietlyby and see some of their own class treated as if they had donesome great crime merely because they were earning a few pounds byrunning passengers across to England. Why they have done it fromfather to son as far as they can recollect, for there has neverbeen a time yet when there were not people who wanted to pass fromFrance to England and from England to France without asking theleave of the authorities. I think it can be managed, mademoiselle,especially, as you say, you can afford to pay, for if one won't takeyou, another will. Trade is so bad that there are scores of menwould start in their fishing-boats for a voyage across the Channelin the hope of getting food for their wives and families."
"I was sure it was so, Marthe, but it was so difficult to set aboutit. Everyone is afraid of spies, and it needs some one to warrantthat we are not trying to draw them into a snare, before anyonewill listen. If your husband will but take the matter up, I haveno doubt it can be managed."
"Set your mind at ease; the thing is as good as done. I tell youthere are scores of men ready to undertake the job when they knowit is a straightforward one."
"That is good news indeed, Jeanne," Harry said, when the girltold him of the conversation. "That does seem a way out of ourdifficulties. I felt sure you would be able to manage it, sooneror later, among the poor people you have been so good to. Hurry iton as much as you can, Jeanne. I feel that our position is gettingmore and more dangerous. I am afraid I do not play my part sufficientlywell. I am not forward enough in their violent councils. I cannotbring myself to vote for proposals for massacre when there is anydivision among them. I fear that some have suspicions. I have beenasked questions lately as to why I am staying here, and why I havecome. I have been thinking for the last few days whether it wouldnot be better for us to make our way down to the mouth of the riverand try and bribe some fishermen in the villages there who wouldnot have that feeling against me that the men here have, to takeus to sea, or if that could not be managed, to get on board somelittle fishing-boat at night and sail off by ourselves in the hopesof being picked up by an English cruiser."
Harry indeed had for some days been feeling that danger wasthickening round him. He had noticed angry glances cast at him bythe more violent of the committee, and had caught sentences expressingdoubt whether he had really been Robespierre's secretary. Thatevening as he came out from the meeting he heard one man say toanother:
"I tell you he may have stolen it, and perhaps killed the citizenwho bore it. I believe he is a cursed aristocrat. I tell you I shallwatch him. He has got some women with him; the maire, who saw thepaper, told me so. I shall make it my business to get to the bottomof the affair, and we will make short work with him if we findthings are as I believe."
Harry felt, therefore, that the danger was even more urgent thanhe had expressed it to Jeanne, and he had returned intending topropose immediate flight had not Jeanne been beforehand with hernews. Even now he hesitated whether even a day's delay mi
ght notruin them.
"Have you told me all, Harry?" Jeanne asked.
"Not quite all, Jeanne. I was just thinking it over. I fear thedanger is even more pressing than I have said;" and he repeatedthe sentence he had overheard. "Even now," he said, "that fellowmay be watching outside or making inquiries about you. He will hearnothing but praise; but that very praise may cause him to doubtstill more that you are not what you seem."
"But why can we not run away at once?" Virginie said. "Why shouldwe wait here till they come and take us and carry us away and killus?"
"That is what I was thinking when I came home, Virginie; but therisk of trying to escape in a fishing-boat by ourselves would betremendous. You see, although I have gone out sailing sometimes onthe river in England, I know very little about it, and although wemight be picked up by an English ship, it would be much more likelythat we should fall into the hands of one of the French gunboats.So I look upon that as a desperate step, to be taken only at thelast moment. And now that Jeanne seems to have arranged a safe plan,I do not like trying such a wild scheme. A week now, and perhapsall might be arranged; but the question is--Have we a week? Havewe more than twenty-four hours? What do you think, Jeanne?"
"I do not see what is best to do yet," Jeanne said, looking steadilyin the fire. "It is a terrible thing to have to decide; but I seewe must decide." She sat for five minutes without speaking, andthen taking down her cloak from the peg on which it hung she said;"I will go round to Marthe Pichon again and tell her we are allso anxious for each other, that I don't think we can judge what isreally the best. Marthe will see things more clearly and will beable to advise us."
"Yes, that will be the best plan."
It was three-quarters of an hour before she returned.
"I can see you have a plan," Harry said as he saw that there wasa look of brightness and hope on Jeanne's face.
"Yes, I have a plan, and a good one; that is to say, Marthe has. Itold her all about it, and she said directly that we must be hiddensomewhere till her husband can arrange for us to sail. I said, ofcourse, that was what was wanted, but how could it be managed? Soshe thought it over, and we have quite arranged it. She has a sisterwho lives in a fishing-village four miles down the river. She willgo over there to-morrow and arrange with them to take us, and willget some fisher-girls' dresses for us. She says she is sure hersister will take us, for she was over here yesterday and heardabout the child getting better, and Marthe told her all sorts ofnonsense about what I had done for it. She thinks we shall be quitesafe there, for there are only six or seven houses, and no one butfishermen live there. She proposes that you shall be dressed up insome of her husband's clothes, and shall go out fishing with hersister's husband. What do you think of that, Harry?"
"Splendid, Jeanne! Can the husband be trusted too?"
"Oh, yes, she says so. He is an honest man, she says; and besides,they are very poor, and a little money will be a great help to them.She says she would not propose it unless she was quite, quite sureof them, for if anything happened to us she would be a wretchedwoman all her life."
"Thank God," Harry said fervently, "that one sees daylight at last!I have felt so helpless lately! Dangers seemed to be thickeninground you, and I could do nothing; and now, Jeanne, you have founda way out for us where I never should have found one for myself."
"It is God who has done it, not me," Jeanne said reverently. "I didnot begin to go about among the poor people here with any thoughtof making friends, but because they were so poor and miserable; butHe must have put it into my heart to do it, in order that a way ofescape might be made for us."