CHAPTER II
A Mad Dog
It was dark before the carriage drove up to the chateau. Theirapproach had been seen, for two lackeys appeared with torches atthe head of the broad steps. M. du Tillet put his hand encouraginglyon Harry's shoulder and led him up the steps. A servant precededthem across a great hall, when a door opened and a gentleman cameforward.
"Monsieur le Marquis," M. du Tillet said, bowing, "this is theyoung gentleman you charged me to bring to you.
"I am glad to see you," the marquis said; "and I hope you will makeyourself happy and comfortable here."
Harry did not understand the words, but he felt the tone of kindnessand courtesy with which they were spoken. He could, however, onlybow; for although in the eight days he had spent with M. du Tillethe had picked up a great many nouns and a few phrases, his stockof words was of no use to him at present.
"And you, M. du Tillet," the marquis said. "You have made a goodjourney, I hope? I thank you much for the trouble you have taken.I like the boy's looks; what do you think of him?"
"I like him very much," M. du Tillet said; "he is a new type tome, and a pleasant one. I think he will make a good companion forthe young count."
The marquis now turned and led the way into a great drawing-room,and taking Harry's hand led him up to a lady seated on a couch.
"This is our young English friend, Julie. Of course he is strangeat present, but M. du Tillet reports well of him, and I alreadylike his face."
The lady held out her hand, which Harry, instead of bending overand kissing, as she had expected, shook heartily. For an instantonly a look of intense surprise passed across her face; then shesaid courteously:
"We are glad to see you. It is very good of you to come so far tous. I trust that you will be happy here."
"These are my sons Ernest and Jules, who will, I am sure, do allin their power to make you comfortable," the marquis said.
The last words were spoken sharply and significantly, and theirtone was not lost upon the two boys; they had a moment before beenstruggling to prevent themselves bursting into a laugh at Harry'sreception of their mother's greeting, but they now instantly composedtheir faces and advanced.
"Shake hands with him," the marquis said sharply; "it is the customof his country."
Each in turn held out his hand to Harry, who, as he shook handswith them, took a mental stock of his future companions.
"Good looking," he said to himself, "but more like girls than boys.A year in the fifth form would do them a world of good. I couldpolish the two off together with one hand."
"My daughters," the marquis said, "Mesdemoiselles Marie, Jeanne,and Virginie."
Three young ladies had risen from their seats as their fatherentered, each made a deep curtsy as her name was mentioned, andHarry bowed deeply in return. Mademoiselle Marie was two years atleast older than himself, and was already a young lady of fashion.Jeanne struck him as being about the same age as his sister Fanny,who was between fourteen and fifteen. Virginie was a child of ten.Ernest was about his own age, while Jules came between the twoyounger girls.
"Take M. Sandwith to the abbe," the marquis said to Ernest, "and doall in your power to set him at his ease. Remember what you wouldfeel if you were placed, as he is, among strange people in a strangecountry."
The lad motioned to Harry to accompany him, and the three boys leftthe room together.
"You can go to your gouvernante," the marquise said to the twoyounger girls; and with a profound curtsy to her and another to themarquis, they left the room. Unrestrained now by their presence,the marquise turned to her husband with a merry laugh.
"But it is a bear you have brought home, Edouard, a veritablebear--my fingers ache still--and he is to teach manners to my sons!I always protested against the plan, but I did not think it wouldbe as bad as this. These islanders are savages."
The marquis smiled.
"He is a little gauche, but that will soon rub off. I like him,Julie. Remember it was a difficult position for a boy. We did nothave him here to give polish to our sons. It may be that they haveeven a little too much of this at present. The English are notpolished, everyone knows that, but they are manly and independent.That boy bore himself well. He probably had never been in a roomlike this in his life, he was ignorant of our language, alone amongstrangers, but he was calm and self-possessed. I like the honeststraightforward look in his face. And look at the width of theshoulders and the strength of his arms; why, he would break Ernestacross his knee, and the two boys must be about the same age."
"Oh, he has brute strength, I grant," the marquise said; "so havethe sons of our peasants; however, I do not want to find fault withhim, it is your hobby, or rather that of Auguste, who is, I think,mad about these English; I will say nothing to prevent its havinga fair trial, only I hope it will not be necessary for me to givehim my hand again."
"I do not suppose it will until he leaves, Julie, and by that time,no doubt, he will know what to do with it; but here is M. du Tilletwaiting all this time for you to speak to him."
"Pardon me, my good M. du Tillet," the marquise said. "In truththat squeeze of my hand has driven all other matters from my mind.How have you fared? This long journey with this English bear musthave been very tedious for you."
"Indeed, Madame la Marquise," M. du Tillet replied, "it has been nohardship, the boy has amused me greatly; nay, more, he has pleasedme. We have been able to say little to each other, though, indeed,he is quick and eager to learn, and will soon speak our language;but his face has been a study. When he is pleased you can see thathe is pleased, and that is a pleasure, for few people are pleasedin our days. Again, when he does not like a thing you can alsosee it. I can see that he says to himself, I can expect nothingbetter, these poor people are only French. When the gamins in Parisjeered him as to his dress, he closed his hands and would have flownat them with his fists after the manner of his countrymen had henot put strong restraint on himself. From the look of his honesteyes I shall, when he can speak our language, believe implicitlywhat he says. That boy would not tell a lie whatever were theconsequences. Altogether I like him much. I think that in a verylittle while he will adapt himself to what goes on around him, andthat you will have no reason ere long to complain of his gaucheries."
"And you really think, M. du Tillet, that he will be a usefulcompanion for my boys?"
"If you will pardon me for saying so, madam, I think that he will--atany rate I am sure he can be trusted to teach them no wrong."
"You are all against me," the marquise laughed. "And you, Marie?"
"I did not think of him one way or the other," the girl said coldly."He is very awkward; but as he is not to be my companion that doesnot concern me. It is like one of papa's dogs, one more or lessmakes no difference in the house so long as they do not tread uponone's skirt."
"That is the true spirit of the French nobility, Marie," her fathersaid sarcastically. "Outside our own circle the whole human race isnothing to us; they are animals who supply our wants, voila tour.I tell you, my dear, that the time is coming when this will notsuffice. The nation is stirring; that France which we have so longignored is lifting its head and muttering; the news from Paris ismore and more grave. The Assembly has assumed the supreme authority,and the king is a puppet in its power. The air is dark as with athunder-cloud, and there may be such a storm sweep over France asthere has not been since the days of the Jacquerie."
"But the people should be contented," M. du Tillet said; "they havehad all the privileges they ever possessed given back to them."
"Yes," the marquis assented, "and there lies the danger. It is onething or the other. If as soon as the temper of the third estatehad been seen the king's guards had entered and cleared the placeand closed the door, as Cromwell did when the parliament wastroublesome to him in England, that would have been one way. Pariswould have been troublesome, we might have had again the days ofthe Fronde, but in the end the king's party would have won.
"However,
that was not the way tried. They began by concessions,they go on with concessions, and each concession is made the groundfor more. It is like sliding down a hill; when you have once begunyou cannot stop yourself, and you go on until there is a crash;then it may be you pick yourself up sorely wounded and bruised,and begin to reclimb the hill slowly and painfully; it may be thatyou are dashed to pieces. I am not a politician. I do not care muchfor the life of Paris, and am well content to live quietly here onour estates; but even I can see that a storm is gathering; and asfor my brother Auguste, he goes about shaking his head and wringinghis hands, his anticipations are of the darkest. What can oneexpect when fellows like Voltaire and Rousseau were permitted bytheir poisonous preaching to corrupt and inflame the imaginationof the people? Both those men's heads should have been cut off theinstant they began to write.
"The scribblers are at the root of all the trouble with theirpestilent doctrines; but it is too late now, the mischief is done.If we had a king strong and determined all might yet be well; butLouis is weak in decision, he listens one moment to Mirabeau and thenext to the queen, who is more firm and courageous. And so thingsdrift on from bad to worse, and the Assembly, backed by the turbulentscum of Paris, are masters of the situation."
For some time Harry lived a quiet life at the chateau. He foundhis position a very pleasant one. The orders of the marquis thathe should be treated as one of the family were obeyed, and therewas no distinction made between himself and Ernest. In the morningthe two boys and himself worked with the abbe, a quiet and gentleold man; in the afternoon they rode and fenced, under the instructionsof M. du Tillet or one or other of the gentlemen of the marquisestablishment; and on holidays shot or fished as they chose onthe preserves or streams of the estate. For an hour each morningthe two younger girls shared in their studies, learning Latin andhistory with their brothers. Harry got on very well with Ernest,but there was no real cordiality between them. The hauteur andinsolence with which the young count treated his inferiors were aconstant source of exasperation to Harry.
"He thinks himself a little god," he would often mutter to himself."I would give a good deal to have him for three months at Westminster.Wouldn't he get his conceit and nonsense knocked out of him!"
At the same time he was always scrupulously polite and courteous tohis English companion--much too polite, indeed, to please Harry.He had good qualities too: he was generous with his money, andif during their rides a woman came up with a tale of distress hewas always ready to assist her. He was clever, and Harry, to hissurprise, found that his knowledge of Latin was far beyond his own,and that Ernest could construct passages with the greatest easewhich altogether puzzled him. He was a splendid rider, and couldkeep his seat with ease and grace on the most fiery animals in hisfather's stables.
When they went out with their guns Harry felt his inferioritykeenly. Not only was Ernest an excellent shot, but at the end ofa long day's sport he would come in apparently fresh and untired,while Harry, although bodily far the most powerful, would becompletely done up; and at gymnastic exercises he could do withease feats which Harry could at first not even attempt. In thisrespect, however, the English lad in three months' time was ableto rival him. His disgust at finding himself so easily beaten by aFrench boy nerved him to the greatest exertions, and his muscles,practised in all sorts of games, soon adapted themselves to thenew exercises.
Harry picked up French very rapidly. The absolute necessity there wasto express himself in that language caused him to make a progresswhich surprised himself, and at the end of three months he was ableto converse with little difficulty, and having learned it entirelyby ear he spoke with a fair accent and pronunciation. M. du Tillet,who was the principal instructor of the boys in their outdoorexercises, took much pains to assist him in his French, and helpedhim on in every way in his power.
In the evening there were dancing lessons, and although very farfrom exhibiting the stately grace with which Ernest could performthe minuet or other courtly dances then in fashion, Harry camein time to perform his part fairly. Two hours were spent in theevening in the salon. This part of the day Harry at first found themost tedious; but as soon as he began to speak fluently the marquisaddressed most of his conversation to him, asking him questionsabout the life of English boys at school and about English mannersand customs, and Harry soon found himself chatting at his ease.
"The distinction of classes is clearly very much less with you inEngland than it is here," the marquis said one day when Harry hadbeen describing a great fight which had taken place between a partyof Westminster boys and those of the neighbourhood. "It seemsextraordinary to me that sons of gentlemen should engage in apersonal fight with boys of the lowest class. Such a thing couldnot happen here. If you were insulted by such a boy, what wouldyou do, Ernest?"
"I should run him through the body," Ernest said quietly.
"Just so," his father replied, "and I don't say you would be wrongaccording to our notions; but I do not say that the English plan isnot the best. The English gentleman--for Monsieur Sandwith saysthat even among grown-up people the same habits prevail--does notdisdain to show the canaille that even with their own rough weaponshe is their superior, and he thus holds their respect. It is acoarse way and altogether at variance with our notions, but thereis much to be said for it."
"But it altogether does away with the reverence that the lowerclass should feel for the upper," Ernest objected.
"That is true, Ernest. So long as that feeling generally exists, solong as there is, as it were, a wide chasm between the two classes,as there has always existed in France, it would be unwise perhapsfor one of the upper to admit that in any respect there could beany equality between them; but this is not so in England, where acertain equality has always been allowed to exist. The Englishmanof all ranks has a certain feeling of self-respect and independence,and the result is shown in the history of the wars which have beenfought between the two nations.
"France in early days always relied upon her chivalry. The horde offootmen she placed in the field counted for little. England, uponthe other hand, relied principally upon her archers and her pikemen,and it must be admitted that they beat us handsomely. Then again inthe wars in Flanders, under the English general Marlborough theirinfantry always proved themselves superior to ours. It is gallingto admit it, but there is no blinking the facts of history. It seemsto me that the feeling of independence and self-respect which thisEnglish system gives rise to, even among the lowest class, mustrender them man for man better soldiers than those drawn from apeasantry whose very lives are at the mercy of their lords."
"I think, du Tillet," the marquis said later on on the same evening,when the young people had retired, "I have done very well in takingmy brother Auguste's advice as to having an English companionfor Ernest. If things were as they were under the Grand Monarque,I do not say that it would have been wise to allow a young Frenchnobleman to get these English ideas into his head, but it isdifferent now.
"We are on the eve of great changes. What will come of it no onecan say; but there will certainly be changes, and it is a good thingthat my children should get broader ideas than those in which wewere brought up. This lad is quiet and modest, but he ventures tothink for himself. It scarce entered the head of a French noblemana generation back that the mass of the people had any feelings orwishes, much less rights. They were useful in their way, just asthe animals are, but needed no more consideration. They have nevercounted for anything.
"In England the people have rights and liberties; they won themyears ago. It would be well for us in the present day had theydone so in France. I fancy the next generation will have to adaptthemselves to changed circumstances, and the ideas that Ernest andJules will learn from this English lad will be a great advantageto them, and will fit them for the new state of things."
It was only during lessons, when their gouvernante was alwayspresent, at meal times, and in the salon in the evening, thatHarry had any communication with the young ladies of the family.
Ifthey met in the grounds they were saluted by the boys with as muchformal courtesy as if they had been the most distant acquaintances,returning the bows with deep curtsies.
These meetings were a source of great amusement to Harry, who couldscarcely preserve his gravity at these formal and distant greetings.On one occasion, however, the even course of these meetings wasbroken. The boys had just left the tennis-court where they hadbeen playing, and had laid aside the swords which they carried whenwalking or riding.
The tennis-court was at some little distance from the house, andthey were walking across the garden when they heard a scream. Ata short distance was the governess with her two young charges. Shehad thrown her arms round them, and stood the picture of terror,uttering loud screams.
Looking round in astonishment to discover the cause of her terror,Harry saw a large wolf-hound running towards them at a trot. Itstongue was hanging out, and there was a white foam on its jaws. Hehad heard M. du Tillet tell the marquis on the previous day thatthis dog, which was a great favourite, seemed strange and unquiet,and he had ordered it to be chained up. It had evidently brokenits fastening, for it was dragging a piece of chain some six feetlong behind it.
It flashed across him at once that the animal was mad, but withoutan instant's hesitation he dashed off at full speed and threw himselfin front of the ladies before the dog reached them. Snatching offhis coat, and then kneeling on one knee, he awaited the animal'sattack. Without deviating from its course the hound sprang at himwith a short snarling howl. Harry threw his coat over its head andthen grasped it round the neck.
The impetus of the spring knocked him over, and they rolled togetheron the ground. The animal struggled furiously, but Harry retainedhis grasp round its neck. In vain the hound tried to free itselffrom its blinding encumbrance, or to bite his assailant throughit, and struggled to shake off his hold with its legs and claws.Harry maintained his grasp tightly round its neck, with his headpressed closely against one of its ears. Several times they rolledover and over. At last Harry made a great effort when he wasuppermost, and managed to get his knees upon the animal's belly, andthen, digging his toes in the ground, pressed with all his weightupon it.
There was a sound as of cracking of bones, then the dog's strugglessuddenly ceased, and his head fell over, and Harry rose to hisfeet by the side of the dead hound just as a number of men, withpitch-forks and other weapons, ran up to the spot from the stables,while the marquis, sword in hand, arrived from the house.
The gouvernante, too, paralysed by fear, had stood close by withher charges while the struggle was going on. Ernest had come up, andwas standing in front of his sisters, ready to be the next victimif the dog had overpowered Harry. Less accustomed to running thanthe English boy, and for a moment rooted to the ground with horrorat his sisters' danger, he had not arrived at the spot until thestruggle between Harry and the dog was half over, and had then seenno way of rendering assistance; but believing that the dog was sureto be the conqueror, he had placed himself before his sisters tobear the brunt of the next assault.
Seeing at a glance that his daughters were untouched, the marquisran on to Harry, who was standing panting and breathless, and threwhis arms round him.
"My brave boy," he exclaimed, "you have saved my daughters from adreadful death by your courage and devotion. How can I and theirmother ever thank you? I saw it all from the terrace--the speedwith which you sprang to their assistance--the quickness of thoughtwith which you stripped off your coat and threw it over its head.After that I could see nothing except your rolling over and overin a confused mass. You are not hurt, I trust?"
"Not a bit, sir," Harry said.
"And you have killed it--wonderful!"
"There was nothing in that, sir. I have heard my father, who is adoctor, say that a man could kill the biggest dog if he could getit down on its back and kneel on it. So when I once managed to getmy knees on it I felt it was all right."
"Ah, it is all very well for you to speak as if it were nothing!"the marquis said. "There are few men, indeed, who would throwthemselves in the way of a mad dog, especially of such a formidablebrute as that. You too have behaved with courage, my son, and Isaw you were ready to give your life for your sisters; but you hadnot the quickness and readiness of your friend, and would have beentoo late."
"It is true, father," Ernest said in a tone of humility. "I shouldhave been too late, and, moreover, I should have been useless, forhe would have torn me down in a moment, and then fallen upon mysisters. M. Sandwith," he said frankly, "I own I have been wrong.I have thought the games of which you spoke, and your fighting, roughand barbarous; but I see their use now. You have put me to shame.When I saw that dog I felt powerless, for I had not my sword withme; but you--you rushed to the fight without a moment's hesitation,trusting in your strength and your head. Yes, your customs havemade a man of you, while I am a boy still."
"You are very good to say so," Harry said; "but I am quite sure thatyou would be just as quick and ready as me in most circumstances,and if it had been a matter of swords, very much more useful; but Iam glad you see there is some advantage in our rough English ways."
The marquis had put his hand approvingly upon Ernest's shoulderwhen he addressed Harry, and then turned to his daughters. Thegoverness had sunk fainting to the ground when she saw that thedanger was over. Virginie had thrown herself down and was cryingloudly; while Jeanne stood pale, but quiet, beside them.
The marquis directed one of the men to run up to the chateau andbid a female servant bring down water and smelling-salts for thegoverness, and then lifted Virginie up and tried to soothe her,while he stretched out his other hand to Jeanne.
"You are shaken, my Jeanne," he said tenderly, "but you have bornethe trial well. I did not hear you cry out, though madame, and thelittle one screamed loudly enough."
"I was frightened enough, father," she said simply, "but of courseI wasn't going to cry out; but it was very terrible; and oh, hownoble and brave he was! And you know, papa, I feel ashamed to thinkhow often I have been nearly laughing because he was awkward inthe minuet. I feel so little now beside him."
"You see, my dear, one must not judge too much by externals," herfather said soothingly as she hid her face against his coat, and hecould feel that she was trembling from head to foot. "Older peoplethan you often do so, and are sorry for it afterwards; but as I amsure that you would never allow him to see that you were amused noharm has been done."
"Shall I thank him, papa?"
"Yes, presently, my dear; he has just gone off with Ernest to seethem bury the dog."
This incident caused a considerable change in Harry's position inthe family. Previously he had been accepted in consequence of theorders of the marquis. Although compelled to treat him as an equalthe two boys had in their hearts looked upon him as an inferior,while the girls had regarded him as a sort of tutor of theirbrothers, and thus as a creature altogether indifferent to them.But henceforth he appeared in a different light. Ernest acted up tothe spirit of the words he had spoken at the time, and henceforthtreated him as a comrade to be respected as well as liked. He triedto learn some of the English games, but as most of these requiredmore than two players he was forced to abandon them. He even askedhim to teach him to box, but Harry had the good sense to makeexcuses for not doing so. He felt that Ernest was by no means hismatch in strength, and that, with all his good-will, he would findit difficult to put up good-naturedly with being knocked about. Hetherefore said that it could not be done without boxing-gloves, andthese it would be impossible to obtain in France; and that in thenext place he should hardly advise him to learn even if he procuredthe gloves, for that in such contests severe bruises often weregiven.
"We think nothing of a black eye," he said laughing, "but I amsure madame your mother would not be pleased to see you so marked;besides, your people would not understand your motive in undertakingso rough an exercise, and you might lose somewhat of their respect.Be content, Count Ernest; you are an excellent swords
man, andalthough I am improving under M. du Tillet's tuition I shall neverbe your match. If you like; sometime when we are out and awayfrom observation we can take off our coats, and I can give you alesson in wrestling; it is a splendid exercise, and it has not thedisadvantages of boxing."
Little Jules looked up to Harry as a hero, and henceforth, whenthey were together, gave him the same sort of implicit obediencehe paid to his elder brother. The ceremonious habits of the ageprevented anything like familiarity on the part of the youngergirls; but Jeanne and Virginie now always greeted him with a smilewhen they met, and joined in conversation with him as with theirbrothers in the evening.
The marquise, who had formerly protested, if playfully, againsther husband's whim in introducing an English boy into their familycircle, now regarded him with real affection, only refraining fromconstant allusions to the debt she considered she owed him becauseshe saw that he really shrank from the subject.
The marquis shortly after this incident went to Paris for a fortnightto ascertain from his friends there the exact position of things.He returned depressed and angry.
The violence of the Assembly had increased from day to day. Theproperty of all the convents had been confiscated, and this measurehad been followed by the seizure of the vast estates of the church.All the privileges of the nobility had been declared at an end,and in August a decree had been passed abolishing all titles ofnobility. This decree had taken effect in Paris and in the greattowns, and also in some parts of the country where the passions ofthe people were most aroused against the nobility; but in Burgundyit had remained a dead letter. The Marquis de St. Caux was popularupon his estates, and no one had ever neglected to concede tohim and to the marquise their titles. He himself had regarded thedecree with disdain. "They may take away my estates by force," hesaid, "but no law can deprive me of my title, any more than of thename which I inherited from my fathers. Such laws as these are mereoutbursts of folly."
But the Assembly continued to pass laws of the most sweepingdescription, assuming the sovereign power, and using it as nomonarch of France had ever ventured to do. Moderate men were shockedat the headlong course of events, and numbers of those who at thecommencement of the movement had thrown themselves heart and soulinto it now shrank back in dismay at the strange tyranny which wascalled liberty.
"It seems to me that a general madness has seized all Paris," themarquis said to his wife on his return, "but at present nothing canbe done to arrest it. I have seen the king and queen. His majesty isresolved to do nothing; that is, to let events take their course,and what that will be Heaven only knows. The Assembly has takenall power into its hands, the king is already a mere cipher, theviolence of the leaders of these men is beyond all bounds; thequeen is by turns hot and cold, at one moment she agrees with herhusband that the only hope lies in conceding everything; at anothershe would go to the army, place herself in its hands, and call onit to march upon Paris.
"At anyrate there is nothing to be done at present but to wait.Already numbers of the deputies, terrified at the aspect of affairs,have left France, and I am sorry to say many of the nobles havealso gone. This is cowardice and treachery to the king. We cannothelp him if he will not be helped, but it is our duty to remainhere ready to rally round him when he calls us to his side. I amglad that the Assembly has passed a law confiscating the estatesof all who have emigrated."
Although the marquise was much alarmed at the news brought by herhusband she did not think of questioning his decision. It did notseem to her possible that there could be danger for her and hersin their quiet country chateau. There might be disturbance andbloodshed, and even revolution, in Paris; but surely a mere echoof this would reach them so far away.
"Whenever you think it is right to go up and take your place bythe king I will go and take mine by the queen," she said quietly."The children will be safe here; but of course we must do our duty."
The winter passed quietly at the chateau; there was none of theusual gaiety, for a deep gloom hung over all the noble familiesof the province; still at times great hunting parties were got upfor the chase of the wolves among the forests, for, when the snowwas on the ground, these often came down into the villages andcommitted great depredations.