CHAPTER XIII.
STOP, KING!
With Isidore riding before it, the royal conveyance flew over the roadbetween St. Menehould and Clermont.
Night was falling; the coach entered Argonne Forest crossing thehighway.
The Queen had noticed the absence of Charny, but she could not slackenthe pace or question the postboys. She did lean out a dozen times butshe discovered nothing.
At half-past nine they reached Clermont, four leagues covered. CountDamas was waiting outside the place as he had been warned by Leonard andhe stopped Isidore on recognizing his livery.
"You are Charles de Damas? well; I am preceding the King. Get yourdragoons in hand and escort the carriage."
"My lord," replied the count, "such a breath of discontent is blowingthat I am alarmed, and must confess that my men cannot be answered for,if they recognize the King. All I can promise is that I will fall inbehind when he gets by, and bar the road."
"Do your best--here they come!"
He pointed to the carriage rushing through the darkness and visible bythe sparks from the horses' shoes.
Isidore's duty was to ride ahead and get the relays ready. In fiveminutes, he stopped at the posthouse door.
Almost at the same time, Damas rode up with half-a-dozen dragoons, andthe King's coach came next. It had followed Isidore so closely that hehad not had time to remount. Without being showy it was so large andwell built that a great crowd gathered to see it.
Damas stood by the door to prevent the passengers being studied. Butneither the King nor the Queen could master their desire to learn whatwas going on.
"Is that you, Count Damas?" asked the King. "Why are not your dragoonsunder arms?"
"Sire, your Majesty is five hours behind time. My troop has been in thesaddle since four P. M. I have kept as quiet as possible but the townis getting fretful; and my men want to know what is the matter. If theexcitement comes to a head before your Majesty is off again, the alarmbell will be rung and the road will be blocked. So I have kept onlya dozen men ready and sent the others into quarters; but I have thetrumpeters in my rooms so as to sound the Boot-and-Saddle at the firstcall. Your Majesty sees that all was for the best for the road is free."
"Very well; you have acted like a prudent man, my lord," said the King;"when I am gone, get your men together and follow me closely."
"Sire, will you kindly hear what Viscount Charny has to say?" asked theQueen.
"What has he to say?" said the King, fretfully.
"That you were recognised by the St. Menehould postmaster's son, whocompared your face with the likeness on the new paper money; his brotherthe count stayed behind to watch this fellow, and no doubt somethingserious is happening as he has not rejoined us."
"If we were recognized, the more reason to hurry. Viscount, urge on thepostboys and ride on before."
Isidore's horse was ready. He dashed on, shouting to the postillions:"The Varennes Road!" and led the vehicle, which rattled off withlightning speed.
Damas thought of following with his handful but he had positive ordersand as the town was in commotion--lights appearing at windows andpersons running from door to door--he thought only of one thing: to stopthe alarm bell. He ran to the church tower and set a guard on the door.
But all seemed to calm down. A messenger arrived from Dandoins, to saythat he and his dragoons were detained at St. Menehould by the people;besides--as Damas already knew--Drouet had ridden off to pursue thecarriage which he had probably failed to catch up with, as they had notseen him at Clermont.
Then came a hussar orderly, from Commandant Rohrig, at Varennes withCount Bouille and another. He was a young officer of twenty who was notin the knowledge of the plot but was told a treasure was in question.Uneasy at time going by they wanted to know what news Damas could give.
All was quiet with them and on the road the hussar had passed the royalcarriage.
"All's well," thought Count Damas, going home to bid his bugler sound"Boot and Saddle!"
All was therefore going for the best, except for the St. Menehouldincident, by which Dandoins' thirty dragoons were locked up.
But Damas could dispense with them from having a hundred and forty.
Returning to the King's carriage, it was on the road to Varennes.
This place is composed of an upper and a lower town; the relay of horseswas to be ready beyond the town, on the farther side of the bridge anda vaulted passage, where a stoppage would be bad.
Count Jules Bouille and Raigecourt were to guard these horses and Charnywas to guide the party through the daedalus of streets. He had spent afortnight in Varennes and had studied and jotted down every point; not alane but was familiar, not a boundary post but he knew it.
Unfortunately Charny was not to the fore.
Hence the Queen's anxiety doubled. Something grave must have befallenhim to keep him remote when he knew how much he was wanted.
The King grew more distressed, too, as he had so reckoned on Charny thathe had not brought away the plan of the town.
Besides the night was densely dark--not a star scintillated.
It was easy to go wrong in a known place, still more a strange one.
Isidore's orders from his brother was to stop before the town.
Here his brother was to change horses and take the lead.
He was as troubled as the Queen herself at this absence. His hope wasthat Bouille and Raigecourt in their eagerness would come out to meetthe Royal party: they must have learnt the site during three days andwould do as guides.
Consequently on reaching the base of the hill, seeing a few lightssparkling over the town, Isidore pulled up irresolutely, and cast aglance around to try and pierce the murkiness. He saw nothing.
He ventured to call in a low voice, but louder and louder, for theofficers; but no reply came.
He heard the rumbling of the stage coming along at a quarter of a leagueoff, like a thunder peal.
Perhaps the officers were hiding in the woods which he explored alongthe skirts without meeting a soul.
He had no alternative but to wait.
In five minutes the carriage came up, and the heads of the royal couplewere thrust out of the windows.
"Have you seen Count Charny?" both asked simultaneously.
"I have not, Sire," was the response: "and I judge that some hurt hasmet him in the chase of that confounded Drouet."
The Queen groaned.
"What can be done?" inquired the King who found that nobody knew theplace.
"Sire," said the viscount, "all is silent and appears quiet. Please yourMajesty, wait ten minutes. I will go into the town, and try to get newsof Count Bouille or at least of the Choiseul horses."
He darted towards the houses.
The nearest had opened at the approach of the vehicles, and light wasperceptible through the chink of the door.
The Queen got out, leant on Malden's arm and walked up to this dwelling:but the door closed at their drawing near. Malden had time to dash upand give it a shove which overpowered the resistance. The man who hadattempted to shut it was in his fiftieth year; he wore a night gown andslippers.
It was not without astonishment that he was pushed into his own house bya gentleman who had a lady on his arm. He started when he cast a rapidglance at the latter.
"What do you want?" he challenged Malden.
"We are strangers to Varennes, and we beg you to point out the Stenayroad."
"But if I give you the information, and it is known, I will be a ruinedman."
"Whatever the risk, sir," said the Lifeguardsman, "it will be kindnessto a lady who is in a dangerous position----"
"Yes, but this is a great lady--it is the Queen," he whispered to thesham courier.
The Queen pulled Malden back.
"Before going farther, let the King know that I am recognized," shesaid.
Malden took but a second to run this errand and he brought word that theKing wanted to see this careful man.
He ki
cked off his slippers with a sigh, and went on tiptoe out to thevehicle.
"Your name, sir?" demanded the King.
"I am Major Prefontaine of the cavalry, and Knight of the St. LouisOrder."
"In both capacities you have sworn fealty to me: it is doubly your dutytherefore to help me in this quandary."
"Certainly: but will your Majesty please be quick about it lest I amseen," faltered the major.
"All the better if you are seen," interposed Malden; "you will neverhave a finer chance to do your duty."
Not appearing to be of this opinion, the major gave a groan. The Queenshook her shoulders with scorn and stamped with impatience.
The King waved his hand to appease her and said to the lukewarmroyalist:
"Sir, did you hear by chance of soldiers waiting for a carriage to comethrough, and have you seen any hussars lately about?"
"They are on the other side of the town, Sire; the horses are at theGreat Monarch inn and the soldiers probably in the barracks."
"I thank you, sir; nobody has seen you and you will probably havenothing happen you."
He gave his hand to the Queen to help her into the vehicle, and issuedorders for the start to be made again.
But as the couriers shouted "To the Monarch Inn!" a shadowy horsemanloomed up in the woods and darted crosswise on the road, shouting:
"Postboys, not a step farther! You are driving the fleeing King. In thename of the Nation, I bid ye stand!"
"The King," muttered the postillions, who had gathered up the reins.
Louis XVI. saw that it was a vital instant.
"Who are you, sir, to give orders here?" he demanded.
"A plain citizen, but I represent the law and I speak in the name of theNation. Postillions, I order you a second time not to stir. You know mewell: I am Jean Baptiste Drouet, son of the postmaster at St.Menehould."
"The scoundrel, it is he," shouted the two Lifeguardsmen, drawing theirhunting-swords.
But before they could alight, the other had dashed away into the LowerTown streets.
"Oh, what has become of Charny?" murmured the Queen.
Fatality had ridden at the count's knee.
Dandoins' horse was a good racer but Drouet had twenty minute's start.Charny dug in the spurs, and the bounding horse blew steam from hisnostrils as it darted off. Without knowing that he was pursued,Drouet tore along, but he rode an ordinary nag while the other was athoroughbred.
The result was that at a league's end the pursuer gained a third.Thereupon the postmaster's son saw that he was chased and redoubledhis efforts to keep beyond the hunter. At the end of the second leagueCharny saw that he had gained in the same proportion, while the otherturned to watch him with more and more uneasiness.
Drouet had gone off in such haste that he had forgotten to arm himself.The young patriot did not dread death, but he feared being stoppedin his mission of arresting the King, whereupon he would lose theopportunity of making his name famous.
He had still two leagues to go before reaching Clermont, but it wasevident that he would be overtaken at the end of the first league, thatis, the third, from his leaving St. Menehould.
As if to stimulate his ardor, he was sure that the royal carriage was infront of him.
He laid on the lash and drove in the spurs more cruelly.
It was half after nine and night fell.
He was but three quarters of a league from Clermont but Charny was onlytwo hundred paces away.
Drouet knew Varennes was not a posting station and he surmised that theKing would have to go through Verdun. He began to despair; before hecaught up with the King he would be seized. He would have to give up thepursuit or turn to fight his pursuer and he was unarmed.
Suddenly, when Charny was not fifty paces from him, he met postillionsreturning with the unharnessed horses. Drouet recognized them as thosewho had ridden the royal horses.
"They took the Verdun Road, eh?" he called out as he forged past them.
"No, the Varennes Road," they shouted.
He roared with delight. He was saved and the King lost!
Instead of the long way he had a short cut to make. He knew all aboutArgonne Woods into which he flung himself: by cutting through, he wouldgain a quarter of an hour over the King, besides being shielded by thedarkness under the trees.
Charny, who knew the ground almost as well as the young man, understoodthat he would escape him and he howled with rage.
"Stop, stop!" he shouted out to Drouet, as he at the same time urged hishorse also on the short level separating the road from the woods.
But Drouet took good care not to reply: he bent down on his horse'sneck, inciting him with whip and spur and voice. All he wanted was toreach the thicket--he would be safe there.
He could do it, but he had to run the gauntlet of Charny at ten paces.He seized one of the horse-pistols and levelled it.
"Stop!" he called out again, "or you are a dead man."
Drouet only leaned over the more and pressed on. The royalist pulled thetrigger but the flint on the hammer only shot sparks from the pan: hefuriously flung the weapon at the flyer, took out the other of the pairand plunging into the woods after him, shot again at the dark-form--butonce more the hammer fell uselessly; neither pistol was loaded.
It was then he remembered that Dandoins had called out something to himwhich he had heard imperfectly.
"I made a mistake in the horse," he said, "and no doubt what he shoutedwas that the pistols were not charged. Never mind, I will catch thisvillain, and strangle him with my own hands if needs must."
He took up the pursuit of the shadow which he just descried in theobscurity. But he had hardly gone a hundred paces in the forest beforehis horse broke down in the ditch: he was thrown over its head; risinghe pulled it up and got into the seat again but Drouet was out of sight.
Thus it was that he escaped Charny, and swept like a phantom over theroad to bid the King's conductors to make not another step.
They obeyed, for he had conjured them in the name of the Nation,beginning to be more mighty than the King's.
Scarcely had he dived into the Lower Town and the sound of his horselessened before they heard that of another coming nearer.
Isidore appeared by the same street as Drouet had taken.
His information agreed with that furnished by Major Prefontaine. Thehorses were beyond the town at the Monarch Hotel.
Lieutenant Rohrig had the hussars at the barracks.
But instead of filling them with joy by his news he found the partyplunged into the deepest stupor. Prefontaine was wailing and the twoLifeguardsmen threatening someone unseen.
"Did not a rider go by you at a gallop?"
"Yes, Sire."
"The man was Drouet," said the King.
"Then my brother is dead," ejaculated Isidore with a deep pang at theheart.
The Queen uttered a shriek and buried her face in her hands.