CHAPTER XXII.
The Mob Rises.
"Ah! it is monsieur!" and my landlord came from his room, where he hadevidently been watching for me. "A note from the Palais Royal,monsieur! The messenger has called three times; it is of importance."
"From the Palais Royal? Let me see it. Ah! what a nuisance. Well, Imust attend to it; meanwhile, get me a coarse blue woollen overall anda workman's cap. My finery and plumed hat are likely to cause trouble."
"They shall be at once obtained, monsieur," said he without a trace ofsurprise.
"Good!" and I turned back, glancing again at the paper as I walked.
"Come to me at once. Le Tellier." That was all! What was in the windnow? The under-minister had kept me waiting long enough, and sought myservice just when I required leisure for other matters. If LeTellier's business did not fit in with my own it must wait, as I hadresolved on saving Marie and her aunt at all costs.
Inside the gates John Humphreys met me. He was in good humour, anddelighted that Conde had at last thrown down the gauntlet.
"It is a straight fight now," said he; "the sort of thing I understand.It is rumoured that the Queen will leave Paris, and the guards willescort her. Have you a berth in the King's household yet?"
"No, I am still unattached, but Le Tellier has just sent for me; sothere is no knowing what may happen. By the way, I have seen mycousin," and I related briefly the story of his illness and death.
"Bravo, Pillot!" exclaimed Humphreys when I had finished; "he's aplucky rascal, and loyal, too. What will become of him now that hismaster is dead?"
"He has agreed to take service with me. But I must go; Le Tellier hasbeen waiting for some time," and I proceeded quickly to theunder-minister's apartment.
"At last, M. de Lalande," rather irritably. "I began to wonder if youhad left Paris! Are you still willing to do the King a service?"
"I shall be delighted, monsieur."
"Humph!" said he, making a wry face, "I am not so sure of that. Iintend to send you on a dangerous errand. You will need a keen eye,sharp brain, and, as likely as not, a strong arm. My last messengerwas waylaid and nearly killed, and you may fare even worse."
"The prospect is not over pleasant," I answered laughing, "but I mayhave better luck."
"I hope you will," said he doubtfully, "but it is a risky venture. Youknow that Cardinal Mazarin is at Bruhl, near Cologne? Well, it isnecessary to take him an important paper."
"There seems small risk in that!"
"There you are wrong. It is well understood that letters pass to andfro, and his enemies are on the watch. It may be they will learn yoursecret before you get outside the gates. Their spies are everywhere;even, I may say, in the Palace itself. Now, will you undertake thecommission?"
"Certainly, but I cannot travel on foot."
"There are horses in France, I suppose."
"One cannot buy them without money, which so far, has never beenplentiful with me."
"Oh," said he, "I will attend to that. The King cannot afford to beniggardly in this matter, eh?" and without even making a wry face hegave me a liberal supply of money.
"Now," he continued, when I had replaced my purse, "this is a seriousaffair, and the Court will depend not only on your courage but on yourskill. Mazarin must receive that letter, and no one else must see it.Do you understand?"
"Perfectly, monsieur."
"You will leave Paris to-night; trust no one, and remember that everyman you meet on the road may be a spy in Conde's pay."
"Then the chief danger is to be expected from the prince?"
"From every one," he exclaimed sharply. "King's friends. Queen'sfriends, _Frondeurs_ and _petits maitres_ are all to be suspected untilthat letter is placed in Mazarin's own hands."
Being a very tiny packet it was hidden without much difficulty, and,after listening to Le Tellier's cautions all over again, I left theapartment. Humphreys was waiting in the courtyard, but, staying onlyto whisper, "Secret service," I hurried on to my own rooms.
"Monsieur will find his things on the bed," said the landlord; "theyare rather shabby, but they will attract less notice than new ones."
I asked if the town was quiet, and with a shrug, of his shoulders hesaid, "As yet, but there will be mischief presently. Monsieur is wiseto put on an overall if he wishes to walk abroad."
"I am going to look on, nothing more. Now bring me something to eat,and I will pay your bill."
"I am obliged," said he as coolly as if it were an everyday incident,though I am sure he must have felt surprised at such an unexpectedstroke of luck. I know I was astonished at my own ability to pay him.
"Monsieur will return?" said he questioningly, when at last I was readyto depart.
"I trust so. Keep the rooms for me."
He took the money, opened the door, and bowed low as I went out. Hehad always treated me well, and I was glad to have the means ofsettling my debt to him.
A considerable change had taken place in the streets since the morning,and there were numerous signs of the threatening storm. The BlackMantles had disappeared, having shut themselves up in their barricadedhouses. Brawny men, half-naked and unwashed, patrolled the roadway,mostly in two and threes, but here and there in larger groups. Everyone had a weapon, pike or club, axe or chopper, while a certainproportion carried horse-pistols, or blunderbusses.
I pushed on quickly through the crowd to the Rue Crillon, feeling morealarmed at every step, as the promenaders were rapidly getting ripe formischief. Thus far I believe they had no settled purpose beyondgeneral plunder, but no one could tell what might happen at any moment.I ought really to have gone on with Le Tellier's note, but I could notmake up my mind to abandon the ladies. Most of their friends hadfollowed Conde, Raoul could not leave the Luxembourg, and they werepractically alone in Paris.
When I reached the Rue Crillon it was nearly empty, and I managed topass unobserved into my friends' house. Marie and her aunt weresitting in an upstairs room that faced the street. Madame Coutance waslooking out with an expression of scorn, but the girl's face was paleand apprehensive. At first they failed to recognise me in my workman'sdisguise, but after a second or two the elder lady exclaimed, "Whysurely it is M. de Lalande, our cavalier, the knight-errant who goesabout rescuing distressed dames. But why this mummery, my trustyknight? What does it mean?"
"That I intend doing my utmost to save your life, madame. Come, beforethe mob begins to work mischief. Raoul has procured me a permit whichwill pass us through the gates."
"You have grown wondrous timid of a sudden," she laughed. "I canperceive no sign of danger. There are a few people in the street, butthey are quiet enough."
"They are swarming from their dens in all quarters of the town, madame,and they are as likely as not to come here."
"But why should they?" she inquired, and I could only reply by askingwhy they should not.
"They cannot wish to injure us," exclaimed Marie; "we have done them noharm!" a remark which showed how little the girl understood thepassions of an angry mob.
For ten minutes or more I stood there begging Madame Coutance toescape, and all the while the number of people in the street steadilyincreased. They had done no mischief as yet, but passed their time inan aimless sort of promenade, shouting, singing, and mocking at anywell-dressed passer-by. Once the whole crowd for some reason sweptinto the adjoining street, and for a brief period the Rue Crillon wasleft empty.
"Your bogey has vanished, Albert," cried Madame Coutance in triumph; "Itold you there was no danger."
"I trust madame will prove the surer prophet, but I am still doubtful."
"Here they come again!" cried Marie. "What a horrid din! What arethey doing, Albert?"
"Singing, but I cannot distinguish the words. They are growing morerestless now. I should like to see D'Artagnan ride up with histroopers; he would soon clear the road. But I expect there issufficient work for him in other parts."
For a
while we stood, half hidden by the heavy curtains, watching theantics of the crowd, and wondering what would happen next. The peoplemoved to and fro like caged animals, walking a few steps and turningback or crossing repeatedly from one side of the road to the other. Abody of soldiers would have dispersed them easily, as they had neitherpurpose nor leader.
Presently they began to cluster more thickly at a spot some twentyyards below our house, and then I saw a big ragged fellow holding alofta red flag, while another was pointing to it, and talking violently. Icould not hear what he said, but every now and then the crowd shoutedapproval of his words.
"The fellow is hatching trouble," I muttered to myself, and, almostunconsciously, I felt for Le Tellier's note.
"They will attack the Palais Royal," said Madame Coutance. "They areangry because the prince has been driven away. I am sorry for theQueen, but they will not hurt her, if she promises to recall him."
"Be still!" I exclaimed with more freedom than politeness, "and listen.Now, can you understand?"
It had come at last. Chance or fate had given the mob a cry, which wasall they needed. They were bent on plunder and violence, and anyexcuse was good enough. Low, deep, and stern, like the early rumblingsof a volcano, the cry sounded; then the volume swelled, became clearerand more piercing, till at last in one stupendous roar it shook theplace.
"Down with Conde! Down with Conde!"
Marie shivered and gave a gasp of terror, but her aunt still smiledscornfully; she was really an amazing woman.
"What imbeciles!" she exclaimed; "they do not know who is their bestfriend."
"Nor care," said I, "they intend being their own friends this evening.Stay there a moment while I see to things downstairs."
"Do not venture into the street, Albert," cried Marie, "you will bekilled," and I promised to take no risks.
Collecting the servants, who were half dead through fright, I set themto work barricading the lower part of the house, and as soon as theyhad done all that was possible, I ran again up the stairs to the roomwhich the ladies still occupied. By now the street was packed, andmore than one dwelling house had been broken open. Out went costlyfurniture to be smashed into fragments by the howling rioters, and,"Down with Conde! Death to the friends of Conde!" echoed and re-echoedon all sides.
The mob moved nearer, and attacked the house on the opposite side ofthe street. Crash went the door, and the people rushed in with criesof triumph. We saw them appear in a room on a level with our own; thewindow was flung open, and a beautiful statue was hurled on to thepavement below. Down came rich hangings, costly pictures and gildedmirrors; the small articles only were stolen, the others were hackedand chopped and trampled to pieces underfoot.
"Madame," said I firmly, "you must delay no longer. For your niece'ssake, if not for your own, you must attempt to escape."
A loud howl added force to my advice, and a dozen stalwart hands bangedat our frail barricade. It could not resist long, and what chancewould there be for us, when the rioters had swept it away?
"Down with the house! Burn it! Burn it! Have them out! Friends ofConde to the death! Room there for Pierre's club! Bravo, Pierre!"
"Madame," I cried passionately, "listen to reason. Do you want thisinnocent girl killed before your eyes? These wild beasts will have nomercy."
"It is too late," she answered calmly, "and we both come from a racethat knows how to die."
"It is not too late; there is still a chance. Get some clothes fromthe servants, and disguise yourselves; we can slip out at the back."
Even then I believe she would have stood her ground, but for Marie'sevident terror. The poor girl could not conceal her dismay, and hereyes distended in fright as the hungry roar of the mob leaped from thestreet. Those in front hacked at the barrier: those behind urged ontheir fellows with deep-mouthed baying.
"In! In! Set it on fire! Death to Conde's friends!" they roared.
"Go!" said I sternly, pushing Madame Coutance out of the room, "and Ipray that this poor girl's death is not laid to your account."
The terrified servants had already fled, but madame found somegarments, in which the two dressed. I waited for them on the stairs,and my blood ran cold at the yells of the ravenous pack below. Crash!Crash! The barrier was yielding! A few more stout blows and theywould be upon us. A second, aye, even half a second might mean thedifference to us between life and death.
"Quick! Quick!" I cried, as the ladies in their borrowed dresses ranfrom the room. "The barricade will fall at any moment!"
Half dragging, half supporting Marie, Madame Coutance and I ran swiftlyalong the landing, as, with the noise of a river in flood, the crowdburst into the hall.
"Down with Conde!"
The shout was appalling, and even Marie's aunt, for all her bravado,shrank at it. The sound of the savage voices urged us on, through theservants' quarters, down a narrow staircase, into the kitchen, and soto the yard beyond. The door was already wide open, and we pushedthrough to a side street. Just in time! A portion of the mob hadswept round to the back of the house, and almost directly we foundourselves in the midst of the crowd, fighting, pushing, struggling,with all our might to force a way through.
Marie, poor girl, clung to me nervously in an almost fainting state,but her aunt walked boldly with head erect and her eyes flashing likestars. In spite of the terrible danger I could hardly repress a smileat sight of this high-born dame in her servant's dress, compelled tostruggle with the _canaille_ like a woman of the markets. To makematters worse, we were forced to cry aloud, "Down with Conde!" which Idid lustily, but madame made many wry faces, and, but for her niece,would have refused outright. It was quite painful enough for her tohear others insulting the great hero.
Twice we were swung back to the door of the house, which was nowcompletely wrecked; then, still surrounded by the mob, we were tossed,like floating straws, clear of the street. Since that night I havetaken part in more than one fierce battle, but have never experiencedthe same feeling of horror as during that eventful struggle in the RueCrillon.
The danger was not yet over; we had still some distance to walk, andevery few yards we met groups of rioters hurrying to the work ofdestruction. Some cried, "Down with the Queen!" or "Down with theParliament!" but most of them yelled "Down with Conde!" because for themoment that was the popular cry.
Just at first we walked rather briskly, but very soon Marie's pacebecame slower, she hung with greater weight on my arm, and I fearedevery moment she would faint; It was evident that unless she got betterwe should not reach St. Denis that night.
We were in a fairly quiet street when Madame Coutance suddenlyexclaimed, "Let us rest a few minutes in this doorway. Marie, look up,child; there is nothing to fear now; we are safe here."
For answer, the girl, whose nerves were completely overwrought,shuddered and sobbed.
"Take me away," she cried, "oh, take me away. Back to Aunay; anywhereout of this horrible place."
"That is what we are going to do," I said soothingly. "I have aspecial permit which will pass us through the gate of St. Denis. Butyou must be strong and brave, or we shall not get there."
"I will try," she moaned, "I will try; but oh, it is horrible."
"Hush!" exclaimed her aunt sharply, "listen."
I had been too much occupied with Marie to pay attention to anythingelse, but now I distinctly heard the sound of voices on the other sideof the door.
"Poor child," a woman was saying softly, "she is half dead with fright.Let her come in, I say."
"But the rioters?" exclaimed a second person.
"Pouf! The street is clear enough. Take down the bar, Jules." Thenwe heard a sound as of a heavy bar being removed.
The door opened ever so slightly and a woman cried, "Quick, come in,before you are seen. Where is the poor girl? Cheer up, my little one,no one shall harm you here. Now, Jules, put up the bar again! Ah!that is right. This way, monsieur," and she led us all into a tinyroom, p
oorly furnished, but neat and clean.
She was a comely woman of middle age, rather short, with bright keeneyes, and pleasant face: her husband, Jules, was a ruddy-cheeked man,bald on the top of his head, but with a ring of stiff white hair whichstood up like a fence.
"It is really very generous of you to risk so much for strangers," Ibegan, but the woman would not let me finish.
"One cannot let a child die for want of a helping hand," said shebriskly, "and as for these brigands, I would cut off all their heads ata blow. Ah, it is easy to see that you do not belong to the_canaille_."
I have had little experience of the sea, but as we sat in that room Ithink we must have felt like sailors who, after a stormy voyage, haveglided into a peaceful harbour.
Both Jules and his wife were very attentive, especially to Marie, whowas getting much calmer; they gave us food and drink, and offered tohide us in the house as long as we cared to stay.
"It is growing late," said they, "and you cannot go abroad to-night.To-morrow----"
"The danger will be just as great," interrupted Madame Coutance. "Wethank you for your kind offer, but, believe me, it will be better forus to depart now. Monsieur has a pass, and once outside the city weshall be safe."
"And to-morrow," said Marie, "it may be too late. Besides, you may getinto trouble for hiding us, and then I should never forgive myself."
As far as my plans were concerned it was better to start at once, but Itook no part in the discussion one way or the other, though feelingextremely pleased when Madame Coutance decided that we should sleepoutside Paris.
The kindness of our good Samaritans, and the relief from the tumult,had done Marie so much good that she was ready to face the dangeragain, so, at the end of an hour, we prepared to start. I offeredJules a sum of money, but neither he nor his wife would take it, and wecould only thank them, and hope they would not suffer for havingafforded us a temporary refuge.