CHAPTER XXIII
IN GREAT-AUNT HORTENSE'S HOUSE
"Was it while the bakery man was saying that he would make you cry thatyou heard the noise first, or just before?"
"Lisle said it was while the man was speaking that he heard the noisefirst. You're so excited, Marie Josephine, you don't listen toanything." As she spoke, Rosanne took a sip of the tea which Humphreyhad just brewed for them. "It's so bitter, Humphrey," she said to himover her shoulder.
The two girls sat on each side of Lisle on the chest. It was the nextday after they had come to the cellar, and to Rosanne it was mostbewildering to be there in the dusk of the old place with her dear MarieJosephine by her side.
Humphrey came up to them with a steaming jug.
"Never tha mind if it's bitter, lass, take th' tea and let it warm thawell." As he spoke Humphrey peered at Rosanne anxiously, his round facefull of concern. He had rescued her himself and had had her in his careall these long weeks. Her face seemed very white in the grey shadows ofthe hidden cellar. Marie Josephine and Lisle held out their horndrinking cups for more tea, and then Humphrey filled a cup for himself.He was a little worried about his homespun traveling bag which he hadbrought with him to Paris, and which Dian was to bring when he came backfrom a visit to the alley.
"Sit here, Humphrey Trail; there's room." Lisle shoved along the widechest as he spoke and the farmer sat down beside him. He had never heardso much talk going on at one time before in his life. It had seemed,since he had arrived the night before, that everyone wanted to speak atthe same time, and that each one said the same things and asked the samequestions over and over. Marie Josephine was saying for the third time,"I'm going to see maman at Great-aunt Hortense's to-day!" Well, that wasa task that had been left for Dian, telling Marie Josephine that hermother was a prisoner and that her aunt had died. Part of the tellingLisle did at once.
"Great-aunt Hortense died some weeks ago, Marie Josephine," he said.
She looked at him, her black eyes wide with astonishment. He was growingmore used to her wild, unkempt appearance, but he still grinned everytime he looked at her.
"Poor Great-aunt Hortense! How she must miss everything! She did so loveto be in it all, never wanted to be left out of anything, even ourchildren's parties! Great-aunt Hortense gone--why--it makes everythingseem different!"
"Everything is different." As he spoke, Lisle stood up and went over toHumphrey, who had put the cover on his precious little tin of tea. "Imust talk with you, Humphrey Trail." he said, and drew the farmer alongto the far end of the room. "It's no use," he went on, speaking in lowtones, a precaution entirely unnecessary, for the two girls were deep inthe account of their various adventures. "I simply must get into adisguise and go out on to the streets. I can't stay here any longer,when my mother is a prisoner!"
Humphrey answered him: "Tha went out once almost to tha death. Th'art abrave lad but tha needs caution. Ha' patience now until th' shepherd canbest find a way for us all to help. He found tha when I was fairdistracted."
Lisle put a hand on each of Humphrey's shoulders and smiled across athim.
"Humphrey Trail, Humphrey Trail!" he exclaimed. "I am glad I have youfor a friend. What can we ever do for you, after all you have done forus!"
Humphrey's answer surprised him beyond measure.
"Be grateful for tha life and make thaself content soon with the simpleways of the farm in Yorkshire!"
Lisle still stood with his hands on Humphrey's shoulders, and as thefarmer spoke he realized suddenly their immediate peril. They were toleave not only Paris but France, too, and Humphrey Trail was offeringthem all he had to give in the way of hospitality in England!
Lisle looked across at the girls, and then back at Humphrey.
"You mean we are to go to England. There is so much to think about andto plan. I wish we three, you, Dian, and I, could be alone so that wecould plan what's best to do," he said.
It was just at that moment that the shepherd appeared, coming down thesecret stairs backward. Marie Josephine and Rosanne jumped off the chestand ran up to him. He stood in their midst with his hands at his sides,looking about at all of them, and for the first time since they hadknown him, all of them felt that he, for the moment, was fightingsomething that was trying to overpower him, and that this something wasfear! It was gone almost as it came, his face cleared, and he smiled,putting his hand on Marie Josephine's shoulder.
"There is work for you, Little Mademoiselle," he said.
Lisle had come up to them.
"Let there be work for me, too, Dian," he said.
Dian nodded. "Yes, work for each one of us so that we may go safely outof this mad city, and that you who are in danger may find refuge inEngland." As he spoke he took Marie Josephine's hand and went onspeaking, this time addressing himself directly to Humphrey:
"The servant Henri was genuine in his repentance. He has offeredpractical help in one direction. I will return with the LittleMademoiselle later in the day."
Lisle broke in impatiently: "What can Marie Josephine do that I cannotdo if I'm disguised properly? Why should she take the risk while I amhere?" he protested.
Dian answered him quietly: "The Little Mademoiselle will be safe. Youcame between me and a gunshot last night. Help me once again by stayinghere until I am ready."
He lifted Marie Josephine on to the first rung of the tall ladder stairsand then started up after her. The others watched them from below.
When they had closed the secret panel, Dian stood looking down at MarieJosephine, a world of compassion in his eyes.
"Little Mademoiselle, you are like your grandfather. Remember himto-day, for there is much for you to do. Your mother is a prisoner inthe house of your Great-aunt Hortense who died some weeks ago. She is inperil, but you can save her!"
Dian had spoken the hard words quietly. It was better to say them all atonce, and not wait until the time came to act. Her eyes met his bravelyand her answer was characteristic.
"Lisle wants to be the one, poor Lisle!" she said.
"He cannot help at the moment. Now I will tell you how you can aid insaving your mother. We have all told you, indeed you know, that you cameso easily through the city gates because you are, in your disguise, verymuch like the little Vivi, who is Mademoiselle de Soigne's friend. Vivigoes about the city everywhere. She is known by soldiers, doormen,street people, and their children. She sells licorice water, as did herfather, and she is popular among the crowds. One of the men on guard atthe west gate is her especial friend, and Little Mademoiselle, when youand Jean came through the gates he thought you were Vivi and one of herchums. If you will go to the house of the Marquise du Ganne with Vivi'slicorice water tray, and sell your wares among the crowds who dailythrong the lower halls, you can help to save your mother!"
Dian sat down on an overturned barrel, and Marie Josephine placedherself on the lowest step of the cellar stairs.
"Maman," she murmured faintly. "I want to see maman." Tears brimmed inher eyes and fell silently on to her shabby jacket. She brushed themaway with the back of her hand, and in spite of his pity and love forher, Dian smiled. It was so like her unconsciously to act her part. Hewaited with his usual patience until she was quiet, then he said:
"Have we not always felt that things would come right if we did not letin fear. All is going well for us, and we can look beyond to-day as wedid the time we watched the storm from the terrace and you were thefirst to see a gleam of gold through the black clouds! Do not fear foryour mother, only have faith. Now listen well. Henri is not bad, onlyweak, and he wants to make amends. He is now a soldier of the army ofthe revolution, and he leaves with his regiment at three o'clock to-day.He has been on guard all the morning in the hall of your great-aunt'shouse. Food is always brought to your mother at noon. Henri says thatshe is then left entirely to herself until night. He has been on guardduring the week, and, as he has served in your great-aunt's house, heknows every corner of it." Dian
paused a moment and then went on slowly:"He knows of a small door on the first floor which leads into thegarden, and he has given me the key to this door. People are notsupposed to go to the upper floor where your mother is imprisoned, butlittle Vivi has been there several times. You know the house, and theway to go down the back stairs. You are Vivi from now on. She is safe athome, gladly staying inside in order to help her friends. I will tellyou more as we walk along. Are you ready and willing to go?"
"Yes, as quickly as ever we can." She jumped to her feet and followedhim up the cellar stairs. It all seemed too unreal and strange to betrue, as they walked through the silent house and out of the door intothe garden, just as she and Rosanne had walked with Gonfleur that longago--oh, so very long ago it seemed--the night of the bal masque!
She and Dian mingled with the crowds going up the Champs Elysees,turning off on the street that led to the house of the Marquise duGanne. They walked slowly. No one noticed them, and, except for anoccasional greeting, no one spoke to them. Dian had often walked aboutwith Vivi, and he was known to be a peasant from Brittany, which was hisoriginal home.
They could see the dark blur of the Bois against the soft spring sky,and Dian welcomed the thought that came to him. He had something to sayto Marie Josephine that was going to be difficult, and he felt that itwould be easier for her to hear it in the sweet spring woods than on thecrowded street, so he suggested that they go on to the Bois and rest,before they went to Great-aunt Hortense's house.
"There is more that I have to tell you, Little Mademoiselle," he said.
They sat down under a great elm, the tender green tracery of leavesabove them, the peace of sunshine and warm earth all about them. Dianturned toward Marie Josephine, his face alight with earnestness.
"Little Mademoiselle, you are ready to do brave things, but I am askingyou now to do one that will be bravest of all. Champar, the coachdriver, who is my friend, is risking much to save you all." Dian lookedoff at the still, dim vistas of the wood as he spoke. The noise of thecity, the harsh yelling and the rumble of carts, came to them clearlyfrom the near-by street. Dian put it so, saying that Champar was doingall this for them out of the kindness of his heart. He did not say thathe had done the coach driver a service once which was so great that ithad meant life itself to him.
"Tell me what it is, Dian. I don't know if I am brave. I'm not sure. Butfor maman I could do it. Shall we not go soon to Great-aunt Hortense'shouse so that I can see maman?" said Marie Josephine. She could think ofnothing else but that she was to see her mother and aid in saving her.She tried to realize that her great-aunt's house was really her mother'sprison, but it only seemed like a bad dream. She could not believe thatthe dim, stately house, where they had so often gone for chocolate onwinter afternoons, could now be a place from which to flee, an enemy'sstronghold.
She looked confidently at Dian, and the trust that had always come toher when with him, steadied her now.
"Tell me, Dian, what is it I shall do?"
"A week from to-day, if all goes well, you and the others will be withyour mother in, or rather near, Calais. Your sister, the governess, theDu Monde and Prote are there now. I saw Champar this morning and he toldme where to find them. I hope that a fishing schooner will take you allto England. I spoke to your mother through the door for a moment thismorning. She has been told that her children are to join her in Calais,and she thinks that you are already on your way. Henri has given herthat impression. He has given her, for a disguise, the clothes of hissister who was to have gone to a cousin in the country, and for whom hehas procured a passport. She is not able to leave, and your mother willgo in her stead. Her passport is in order. When she leaves you at thegarden gate she is to go at once to the Place de la Bastille and hasorders what else to do. Little Mademoiselle, this is hard--she must notknow that it is her own Marie Josephine who is saving her! Safety foryou all lies in her not knowing this, for she would not leave the cityif she thought that one of you were here!"
Marie Josephine thought of all that Dian had said, a little later, asshe sat on a secluded bench in the great entrance hall of Great-auntHortense's house. All about her were emblems of the revolution. Shewould have laughed out loud at the thought of Great-aunt Hortense'shorror if she had not been too excited and tremulous to laugh atanything. A tri-color banner was draped over the entrance to the grandsalon. At the carved oak table in the center of the hall sat three menwearing red caps, and all down the dusky corridors other red caps bobbedup and down as citizens walked to and fro debating and wrangling. Froman anteroom, a cold, gilded apartment, came a jangle of voices. Ameeting of one of the sections was taking place there. All through thecity were clubs or sections, each composed of men with different ideasfrom the others, no two ever agreeing on anything except to advocatebloodshed and to show no mercy.
Marie had put her tray with its jug of licorice water and its janglingcups on the floor beside her. Vivi had left it for her at the stand of anut seller near the Marquise du Ganne's house. All sorts of booths andstands had sprung up overnight in the once fashionable parts of Paris.
Dian would be waiting for Madame Saint Frere, in her disguise as Henri'ssister, in the Place de la Bastille. Henri had already been gone somehours with his regiment. Marie Josephine was to seize her opportunity toslide through the shadowy halls, up the back stairs to the room at theend of the hall. Her heart beat so fast that it seemed as though someone must hear it. She saw that it was not going to be an easy thing toslip away, and she made up her mind that she must not, under anycircumstance, let any chance go by. Some men came up to her and demandeda drink. She stooped over for her tray and stood up.
She did not feel as though it were herself at all who poured thesickish-looking, grey mixture into the tin cups and received in exchangecoins which she put in the pocket of her torn skirt. She was careful notto speak any more than she could help, for fear that her voice wouldbetray her. She could look like Vivi, and instinct seemed to tell herhow to be like her, but she was afraid of her voice.
As she walked about among the crowd, through the old familiar halls,selling her wares, she remembered what Dian had said: "Have no fear.Fear is nothing and it cannot talk to you or keep you from doing what isright. It has no power!" She remembered something else that he had said:"You are so changed. It will be easy, indeed, for your mother not tothink of you at all, except as a part of her rescue. Shake your hairwell over your face and do not look directly at her more than you canhelp. Remember she thinks that you are near Calais!"
Dian had given her the two keys. She could feel them jingling togetherin her inner pocket. She wanted to put her tray down somewhere so thatshe could slip away more easily at the right moment. She waited untilthere was a lull in the demand for licorice water, then quietly slippedover to a corner and ducked her head from under the leather strap whichheld the tray about her neck. As she put the tray down on the floor andturned away some one called to her. It was Georges Fardou, the man whohad let Vivi through the gates to "Pick a flower." He looked like a big,shadowy giant as he stood there in the dark hall.
"Come, give us a dance like the one at the West Barricade. The 'Ca Ira,'or anything that's full of go!" he called with a laugh.
The "Ca Ira." She had heard it sung in the streets that very morning asshe had come through the rue Royale with Dian. She had seen it danced,too, a wild, strange weaving in and out of dreadful people. She had shuther eyes at Dian's bidding and held tight to his hand, and he had talkedto her in his quiet way of Pigeon Valley, as they walked through thecity.
"I'll do another one to-day," she heard herself saying, and it seemed asthough she spoke harshly without trying, her mouth was so dry.
She began to dance, holding her tattered skirts about her, swaying backand forth in the dim, close air. She had danced this way so many timesbefore at Les Vignes, up and down the veranda and through the tall rowsof white lilies along the south terrace. She tried to think of thesehappy times as she danced in and out of the arched doorways and abou
tthe big table in the center of the hall. Applause greeted her as shestopped, and also a harsh voice from the anteroom door.
"Have the brat clear out, and keep some sort of quiet about here whilethe section's in session," said the voice from the doorway, and then itsowner disappeared.
For a moment her heart stood still, but after a laugh or two, the smallcrowd that had stood watching her disappeared, Vivi's friend among them.At the first moment that she felt that she was unobserved, she creptthrough the back of the entrance hall into a corridor beyond it, paused,listened, then crept stealthily up the narrow winding stairs.
She knew the room. One time when they had been staying with hergreat-aunt for several weeks, she had spent an afternoon there withProte, dear Prote!
She stood in the shadow close against the wall, looking down thecorridor. All was quiet. She put the key in the lock and tried it. Itgave easily and she stepped inside, then shrank back against the door,putting her hand over her mouth to smother the little cry of surprisethat had almost escaped her. She had thought to find maman, and in herplace there was a thin, wispy-haired woman in a snuff-colored cape andclose-fitting drab bonnet, with a greasy face and half-shut eyes. It wasmaman! As she stood there by the door Marie Josephine rememberedsomething Great-aunt Hortense had said: "There never was any one likeyour mother, Marie, for play-acting. Ah, you children can't believe it,but it's true. The queen has begged her to join them at Versailles! Shecould do her beloved Moliere characters best of all."
"Come, you're sure you were not watched, little girl?" maman was saying.
Marie Josephine nodded.
"Then come at once--the back stairs--you know the garden door? I'venever been that way myself. Quick, child!"
The voice was the same!
"You'd best talk like a woman of the people, citizeness, otherwise youare splendid in your disguise!" Marie Josephine clasped her handstogether suddenly, looking up for a second into maman's eyes.
"Yes, yes, I know. I will remember, but be quick, child." Maman put herhand on the door, and Marie Josephine stepped back into the hall,keeping close to the wall. There was only silence, except for the voicesfrom the halls below.
Marie Josephine never forgot the breathless flight through the familiarback halls of the great house. In spite of the tense excitement shethought how funny it was that she knew the halls so well, and maman knewthem not at all! Roaming about houses had always been one of MarieJosephine's chief delights!
She tried to remember what Dian had told her: "Do not let fear keep youfrom doing what is right. Fear has no power." She said this over andover under her breath as they went out the side door into the garden,and found themselves facing the grey wall that surrounded it. There werevoices near by. She fumbled with the lock. It was rusty, and the gardendoor was a little swollen from recent spring rains. It did not give.
"Hurry, child!" Maman's voice sounded in her ears. She stood quietlywith the key in her hands for a moment, trying to still the agony offear that seemed to beat about her. "Fear has no power," Dian had said.She felt a sudden freedom. She was doing right. She put the key in thelock again and turned it quickly. The door caught, moved a breath, thencaught again. At last it gave! They were outside in a deserted long,grey street. Maman turned to her, and even in that moment of still greatdanger, put her arm around her.
"You have done me good service, little one. I have children whom I shallsee very soon. They are safe out of Paris, a son and two daughters.You--there is something about you a little like one of them. God blessyou."
They had been given their directions. Maman was off, walking quickly inthe direction of the Place de la Bastille, not daring to run. MarieJosephine watched her until she had almost disappeared.
"There is something about you a little like one of them!"
The words stayed with her as she ran on toward the rue Royale. When shereached the crowded streets she slackened her steps. She was to go atonce to the Saint Frere house and to wait there with the others forDian.