Marie Antoinette and Her Son

by L. Mühlbach

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE HOBBY-HORSE.

In accordance with the instructions of Petion, playthings were procured and carried into the gloomy chamber of the prince on the very next day, and set by the side of the sick boy. But Mistress Simon labored in vain trying to amuse the little Louis with them. The men danced, the wooden cocks crowed, the dogs barked, and to all these sounds the child paid no heed; it did not once open its eyes, nor care in the least for the many-colored things which the officials had brought him.

"We must try something else," said the compassionate officer. "Do you know any plaything which would be likely to please little Louis Capet?"

"Give him a riding-horse," cried Simon, with a coarse laugh. "I am convinced if the obstinate youngster should hear that there was a riding-horse outside, and that he might ride through Paris, he would be well on the spot and get up. It is pure deceit, his lying there so pale and without interest in any thing about him."

"You are very cruel, citizen," muttered the official, with a compassionate glance at the child.

"Cruel? Yes, I am cruel!" said Simon, grimly. "But it is the cursed prison air that has made me so. If I stay here a week longer, Jeanne Marie will die, and I shall become crazy. The director of the hospital told us this, and you know, citizen, that he is the most clever doctor in all France. See if you would not be cruel if you had such an idea as that in your head!"

"Well, citizen, you have at least the satisfaction of knowing that it will not last long," answered the officer, consolingly. "The first vacancy is to be given to you."

"Well, I hope it will come soon, then," said Simon, with a sigh. "I will take a vow to you. If, in a week, I shall be released from this place, and get a good situation, I will give little Capet a horse to remember me by. That is, not a horse on which he might ride out of prison, but a wooden one, on which he can ride in prison. Say, little Capet," called Simon, stooping over the bed of the child, "would you not like to have a nice wooden horse to play with?"

Over the pale lips of the boy played the faint tint of a smile, and he opened his eyes. "Yes," he said, softly" yes; I should like to have a wooden horse, and I should have a good time with it."

"Come, citizen," said Simon, solemnly, "I take you to witness my vow. If I receive another place, I give a hobby-horse to little Capet. You grant me the privilege, citizen?"

"I allow you, Citizen Simon, and I will report the matter to the Public Welfare Committee, that it shall surprise no one by and by, and I am sure no one will gainsay you in your praiseworthy offer. For it certainly is praiseworthy to prepare a pleasure for a sick child; and the great republic, which is the gracious mother of all Frenchmen, will pity the poor child, too. I wish you success, citizen, in the fulfilment of all your hopes, and trust that you will speedily be released from your trying imprisonment."

And, in fact, this release did not have to be waited for long. A few days brought the accomplishment of Doctor Naudin's prophecy, and the official guard, who was then sick at the Hotel Dieu, died. The director of the hospital hastened to inform the authorities of this event, and on the same day Simon was appointed his successor. The same official who had brought the sick prince the playthings, came again to inform Simon, of his release, and was delighted at the stormy outbreak of rapturous joy with which the tidings were received.

"We will be off directly," cried Simon. "Our things have all been packed for three days, and every thing is ready."

"But you must wait patiently till to-morrow, my friends," said the official, with a smile. "Your successor cannot enter upon his duties here in the Temple before tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, and till then you must be content to wait quietly."

"That is sad," sighed Simon. "The time between now and ten o'clock to-morrow morning, will lie like lead upon my shoulders. I assure you, citizen, the Temple could get along without me for one night. The two Misses Capet above stairs are locked up, and as for the little Capet down here, it is not necessary to lock him up, for he will not run away, but lie quietly here upon his mattress."

"So the child is really very sick?" asked the officer, with feeling.

"Not exactly very sick," answered Simon, indifferently; "but Doctor Naudin, who visits him every day. thinks that the youngster might not be all right in the head, and he has ordered, on this account, that his long thick hair should be cut off, that his head might be a little cooler. So Jeanne Marie is going to cut it off, and that will probably be the last service that she will have to do for him. We are going to clear out of this—we are going to clear out of this!"

"And have you really nothing more to do for the little Capet, than merely to cut off his hair?" asked the officer with a fixed, searching look.

"No," answered Simon, with a laugh; "nothing but that. Oh! yes, there is something else. I did not think of that. My vow to you! I forgot that. I swore that, if I were to get away from here, I would give little Capet a hobby-horse."

"I am glad, Citizen Simon, that you remember your promise," said the officer, gravely. "I must tell you that the Public Welfare Committee, to which I communicated your intention, was very curious to know whether Citizen Simon would remember to carry it into effect. It is on this account that I was instructed to inform you of your transfer, and to report to them whether you intended to keep your promise. Your superiors will rejoice to learn that you are a man of honor, with whom it is a sacred duty to keep his word; and who, in prosperous days, does not forget to do what he promised to do in less propitious times. So, go and buy for little Capet the promised hobby-horse, and I will inform the Welfare Committee that it was not necessary for me to remind you of your vow, and that you are not only a good citizen, but a good man as well. Go and buy the plaything, and make your arrangements to leave the Temple to-morrow morning at ten o'clock, and to enter upon your new duties as collector of customs at Porte Macon."

"The great bell of Notre Dame will not have growled out its ten strokes to-morrow morning, before Jeanne Marie and I, with our goods, will have left the place," replied Simon, with a laugh. "And now I will run and fulfil my promise." He clapped his red-flannel cap upon his black, thick hair, and left the Temple with a hurried step. As the porter opened the door of the court which led to the street, for the worthy citizen and "man of honor," Simon stopped a moment to chat, telling him of his new situation, and of the vow which he was about to discharge.

"Do not wonder, therefore, citizen," he said, "if you see me come back, by-and-by, with a horse—with this distinction, that it will not be the horse that carries me, but that it will be I that will carry the horse. I was such a fool as to promise little Capet a horse, and I must keep my word, particularly as the Committee of Safety allows it."

"Well, if that is so," said the porter, with mock gravity, "I shall let you in, even if you do not make your appearance until night. With the permission of the Safety Committee, every thing; without it, nothing—for I want to keep my head a little longer on my shoulders."

"And I do not grudge you the privilege," said Simon, with a broad grin. "We know very little about what we have here, but much less about the place where the dear machine takes us. But, if you like, you can ask Roger, the official guard, whether I have permission to bring the wooden horse into the Temple. He is inside, and will probably be there when I come back."

He nodded to the porter, and went out into the street. As the door closed behind him, Simon stopped a moment, and cast a quick glance up and down the street. Above, at the corner of the little cross- street, stood quietly a young commissioner in his blouse, apparently waiting for some one to employ him. Simon crossed the street and went up to him.

"Well," asked the latter aloud, "have you any thing for me to do, citizen?"

"Yes," answered Simon, softly and quickly. "Yes, Toulan, I am all ready for you. To-morrow morning, at ten o'clock, I leave the Temple."

"I know it," whispered Toulan. "But speak loudly. There stands a man who seems to be watching us."

"Come," cried Simon, loudly. "I want you to accompany me to a store where they sell playthings, and afterward you must help carry back what I buy, for it will be too large and too heavy for me alone."

Toulan followed him without replying, and the two went quietly and with an air of indifference through the busy crowd of men. At the corner of a neighboring street the commissioner came in gentle contact with another, who was standing on the curbstone, and was looking earnestly down the street.

"Beg pardon, citizen," said Toulan, loudly, and then added, softly, "to-morrow morning, at ten o'clock. The washerwomen will take charge of the dirty linen at the door. At exactly ten the wagons and the boys must start. The hobby-horse will be filled."

"Yes, it shall be filled," and, with an indifferent air, he passed by the two, and walked down the Helder street. The farther he went the more rapid became his steps, and when he at last entered a narrow, solitary alley, where he might hope to be less observed, his quick walk became a run, which he continued till he reached the Rue Vivienne. He then moderated his pace, and went quietly into a toy- shop, whose attractive windows and open door were directed to the street. The clerk, who stood behind the counter, asked, with a quiet air, what he desired.

"First, allow me to sit down, citizen," answered the commissioner, as he sank upon the rush-chair which stood before the counter. "There, and now, if you want to do me a service, just give me a glass of water."

"Halloo, John," cried the clerk to the errand-boy, who was standing in the hack part of the store. "Bring a glass of water from the well! Hasten!"

The boy took a glass and sprang out of the door into the street.

"In a quarter of an hour they will be here," said the commissioner, quickly. "Inform the marquis, if you please."

"The cabinet-maker, Lamber, you mean," whispered the clerk. "He is not as far away as you; he lives directly opposite, and he has been standing all day at the house-door waiting for the sign."

"Then give it to him, dear baron," said the commissioner; and as the boy came in just then with the water, he hastily seized the glass, and took a swallow so immense as to perfectly satisfy the boy, who was looking at him.

The clerk had, in the mean time, gone to the shop-door, and looking across at the opposite house, he drew a blue handkerchief, with a red border, from his pocket, and slowly raised it to his face.

The man in the blouse, standing at the door of the low house across the street, nodded slightly, and stepped back out of sight.

"Well," cried the commissioner, "now that I have taken breath, and have had a good drink, I will tell you why I have run so. I have directed a citizen to you who wants to buy some playthings, and something very fine, I suppose, as he brings a commissioner along with him to carry the things home. Now I want to know what per cent, of the profit you get from him you are willing to give me, for you cannot expect, citizen, that I should give my recommendation gratis."

"I am not the owner of the store," replied the clerk, with a shrug. "I have been here only a week, and manage the business merely while the owner is absent for a short time on a necessary journey. So I can give no fees. But ask the boy whether in such cases Mr. Duval has paid money. He has been here longer than I."

"Mr. Duval has paid every commissioner, who has brought him such news, two centums on the franc," said the boy, with an important air.

"Well, then, I will give you two centums on the franc, provided that the citizen buys more than a franc's worth."

"Aha! there comes the man," cried the commissioner, pointing at
Simon, who just then entered the store with Toulan. "Well, citizen,
now make a very handsome purchase, for the more you buy, the better
I shall like it."

"Yes, I believe you," replied Simon, laughing; "that is the way in all stores. I want something nice; I want to buy a hobby-horse. But mind you, citizen, show me one of your best ones, a real blood- horse, for I tell you that he who is to ride it is of real blood himself."

"We happen unfortunately to have a limited supply of the article," said the clerk, with a shrug. "They do not come exactly in our line. But there has been so much demand for hobby-horses of late that we have ordered some, and if you will wait a few days, citizen—"

"A few days!" interrupted Simon, angrily. "Not a few hours, not a few minutes will I wait. If you have no hobby-horses, tell me, and I will go elsewhere to make my purchases."

He turned to go, but the clerk held him back. "Wait only a minute," he said. "I should not like to lose your custom, and I think it possible that I can procure you a fine horse. The cabinet-maker, who makes our horses, lives just opposite, and he has promised to deliver them tomorrow. The boy shall go over and see if they are not ready."

"We would rather go over with him, citizen. If we find what is wanted, we shall need to go no farther."

"It is true, that will be the best course," said Simon. "Come, commissioner."

"I will go along to have the business all rightly done," said the clerk. "Here, John, take my place behind the counter while I am gone."

Simon had already crossed the street by the side of Toulan. The clerk followed with the second commissioner.

"Why have you not got rid of the boy, Count St. Prix?" asked the latter.

"It was impossible, Count Frotte" answered the former in a whisper. "Duval is a very nervous man, and he supposed that it would excite suspicion if the boy, who is well known in the neighborhood, should disappear at just the time when he should be away. He is right, perhaps, and at any rate the thing is unavoidable. The sly chore-boy has noticed nothing, I hope, and we shall reach our goal without any hindrance. You are going to London tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, count. And you? what is your direction?"

"To Coblentz, to the royal princes," replied Count St. Prix. "Only I suspect that we shall not both of us reach the end of our journeys."

"At any rate not with the children that we shall take with us," whispered the other, as they entered the house of the cabinet-maker.

They found Simon and Toulan in the large workshop busily engaged in bargaining with the cabinet-maker, who had shown them six tolerably large hobby-horses, and was descanting on their beauties.

"It seems tome they all look very much alike," said Simon. "Tell me, commissioner, which of these race-horses pleases you best."

"This with the red flanks," said Toulan, laying his hand upon the largest one.

"It is an immense creature," said Simon, with a laugh. "Still, the red flanks are pretty, and if we can agree about the price I will buy the animal."

They did agree, and after Simon had gravely paid the twenty francs, he and Toulan took the horse on their shoulders and marched down the street.

"Do all those people know about our secret?" asked Simon, as they strode forward.

"No, only the cabinet-maker knows about it, and he will leave Paris to-morrow and carry the prince to a place of safety."

"For God's sake, do not speak so loudly!" whispered Simon, casting an anxious look around. "But why do you yourself not go away with the boy and leave Paris, where you are constantly in danger?"

"I cannot," answered Toulan, solemnly.

"Cannot! what forbids you?"

"The vow that I gave to Marie Antoinette, to rescue her children from the Temple or to die."

"Well, but to-morrow you hope to fulfil your vow, and then you can go."

"I shall fulfil to-morrow but the half of my vow. I shall, if you help me, and my plan succeeds, release the son of the queen, but the daughter will remain behind in prison. You see, therefore, that I cannot leave Paris, for the daughter and sister-in-law of the queen are still prisoners, and I must release them."

"But I should rather that you would go away with the boy, and never come back to Paris," said Simon, thoughtfully.

"How so? Do you not trust me?"

"I trust no one," replied Simon, gloomily. "You might some day, when it might suit your humor, or in order to save yourself, betray me, and report me to the Committee of Safety."

"What, I! And ought I not to fear too? Could not you betray me as well?"

"You know very well that I shall take care not to disclose a word of this whole history, for to disclose it would be to write my own death-warrant. But hush, now; hush! there is the Temple, and it seems to me as if the very walls looked at me maliciously, as if they wanted to say, 'There comes a traitor!' Ah, Toulan, it is a bad thing to have an accusing conscience!"

"Help me faithfully to save the prince, Simon, and you will have a good conscience all the rest of your life, for you will have done a grand and noble deed."

"In your eyes," whispered Simon, "but not in those of the Convention, and when they learn about it—but here we are, and our talk and reconsideration are too late."

He struck three times with his fist against the closed gate of the outer court. The porter opened, and let the two men in, only saying that the guard had given his special consent to the bringing in of the hobhy-horse.

"But about the commissioner whom you bring with you," said the porter, reflectively, "he did not make any mention, and I can only allow him to take your plaything into the second court. He must not go into the Temple."

"It is no particular wish of mine to go into a prison," answered the commissioner, carelessly. "It is a good deal easier to get in than to get out again. Well, take hold, Citizen Simon; forward!"

They walked on to the second court. "Now, then," whispered Toulan, "for caution and thoughtfulness! Tomorrow at ten o'clock I will be standing before the door, and you will call me in to help you in your moving."

"I wish it were all over," groaned Simon. "It seems to me as if my head were shaking on my shoulders, and my heart beats as if I were a young girl."

"Courage, Simon, only courage! Remember that tomorrow you are to be a free and a rich man. Then, as soon as you give your basket to the washerwoman at the Macon gate, I will pay you the promised twenty thousand francs. And—"

"Halt!" cried the sentinel at the entrance to the Temple. "No one can go in here without a pass."

"You do not want a pass for my rocking-horse, brother citizen, do you?" asked Simon, with a laugh.

"Nonsense! I am speaking about the commissioner."

"He is going of himself, and does not want to go in. But look him square in the face, for he will come to-morrow morning again. I have secured him in advance, to help me in moving out. Bring a wagon along, commissioner, for the things will be too heavy to carry without one. And now help put the horse on my shoulders. So! Well, then, to-morrow morning at ten, commissioner."

"To-morrow morning at ten," replied Toulan, nodding to Simon, and slowly sauntering through the court. He stopped at the outer gate, told the porter that he was going to assist Simon in his moving on the morrow, and then asked in an indifferent tone whether Simon's successor at the Temple was appointed.

"Why, would you like the place?" asked the porter, gruffly.

"No, indeed, not I! I have no taste for such work. It must be an awful air in the prison."

"It is that," replied the porter. "And so after Simon has moved out, they are going to cleanse the place a little, and give it an airing, and the successor will move in about noon."

"Well, I don't envy the man who moves in," said Toulan, with a laugh. "Good-by, citizen, we shall see each other to-morrow."

He went out into the street, and slowly sauntered along. At the end of it he stopped and gave a trifle to a beggar who, supported by a crutch, was leaning against a house.

"Is it all right thus far?"

"Yes, marquis, thank God, thus far every thing has gone on well. The horse is in the Temple, and nothing is discovered."

"May the grace of God stand by us to-morrow!" whispered the beggar.
"You are sure that all the arrangements are carefully attended to?"

"Entirely sure, M. de Jarjayes. While you are leaving Paris in the garb of a washerwoman, our two allies will both be driving out of two other gates, with the boy, in stylish carriages."

"And it will be you, Toulan, who will have saved the King of France," whispered the beggar. "Oh! be sure that all France will thank you for it some day, and give you the title of savior of your country!"

"Baron," said Toulan, shaking his head, "for me there is but one title of honor, that which the Queen of France gave me. I am called Fidele, and I want no other name. But this one I will maintain so long as I live. Good-by till we meet to-morrow at the Porte Macon!"

Little Prince Louis Charles received the hobby-horse, which Simon carried into the chamber, with a little more interest than in the case of the other playthings. He even raised himself up a little on his mattress, and directed a long, searching gaze at the tall, handsome wooden creature.

"Well," asked the official, who had gone with Simon into the dungeon, and had watched the effect of the toy, "well, how does your horse please you, little Capet?"

The boy nodded slowly, but made no reply; he only reached out his long, thin, right hand, and made a motion as if he wanted to rise.

"To-morrow, little Capet," cried Jeanne Marie, holding him back. "To-day you must keep entirely still, so the doctor said, and I will cut your hair off directly, as the doctor ordered. But I should like to have you here, citizen, and oversee the operation. The boy will look much changed, when his long, yellow hair is cut off, and afterward it might be supposed—"

"Yes, certainly," interrupted Simon, with a laugh, "afterward it might be supposed that it is not the stupid youngster who has troubled us so long, that out of pure tenderness and love we had taken him along with us."

"No one would consider the republican Simon capable of such a thing," replied the official, "and besides, the boy will stay here, and no substitute for him can fall out of the clouds. Be free from care, Simon. I myself shall recognize the boy to-morrow, and if he should look changed in appearance, I shall know how it comes."

"Yes, he will know how it comes," said Simon, with a grin, as he watched the retreating form of the official, now leaving the prison.

"Lock the door, Simon," whispered Jeanne Marie. "We must let the boy out of this if he is not to be stifled!"

"No, no," said Simon, motioning his wife to retreat from the hobby- horse which she was approaching. "He will not be stifled, for beneath the saddle-cloth there are nothing but air-holes, and he can endure it a good while. We must above all things be cautious and prepared for every thing. It would be a fine thing, would it not, if the officials who are on guard in the Temple should conceive the idea of making the rounds a second time for the purpose of inspection. He cannot be carried out before it strikes ten from Notre Dame. We will, however, give him a little more air."

He removed the saddle with care, which was let into the back of the wooden horse, and listened at the opening.

"He breathes very peacefully and evenly," he then said, softly. "He seems to be asleep. Jeanne Marie, hold the saddle in your hand, and at the least approach fit it again in its place. I will now take hold and pack our things."

When the night came, and the last rounds had been made past the closed doors of Simon's rooms, and the officials had withdrawn into the great hall, where they stayed during the night-watch, there was an unusual stir within Simon's apartments. Jeanne Marie, who had thrown herself in her clothes upon the bed, slipped out from beneath the coverlet. Simon, who was standing near the door listening, advanced to the little prince, and bade him in a whisper to get up.

The child, which now seemed to have recovered from its indifference and stupidity, rose at once, and at Simon's further command made an effort to remove his clothes, and to put on in their place the coarse woollen suit and the linen trousers which Simon drew out of his bed and handed to him.

The toilet was soon completed, and the little prince looked with a timid, inquiring glance at Simon, who was regarding him with a searching eye.

"And the stockings, master?" he asked. "Do not I have any stockings?"

"No," growled Simon—"no, the son of a washerwoman wants no stockings. There are some wooden shoes which will be laid for you in the basket, and you put them on afterward, if we are fortunate in getting away. But you must cut his hair, Jeanne Marie. With long hair he will not look like a boy from the people."

Jeanne Marie shuddered. "I cannot," she whispered; "it would seem to me as if I were cutting off his head, and the woman in white would stand behind, and pierce me through with her great eyes."

"Come, come, that old story again!" growled Simon. "Give me the scissors, then; I will take care of it, for the boy must part with his hair before he goes into the basket. Come, come, do not shrink and curl up so; I was not speaking of the guillotine-basket, but of your dirty-clothes basket. Come, Capet, I want to cut your hair."

He took the great shears from the work-basket, and sat down on a stool by the side of the table, on which burned a dim tallow candle, throwing an uncertain light through the apartment. "Come, Capet!"

The boy stole up with an insecure step, and shrank together when
Simon seized him and drew him between his knees.

"Do not hurt him, Simon. Be careful of him," whispered Jeanne Marie, sinking on the floor and folding her hands. "Remember, husband, that she is here, and that she is looking at you, and that she bores into my head with her eyes when you do any harm to the child."

Simon looked around with a shy and anxious glance. "It is high time that we were away from here," he growled—"high time, if I am not to be crazy as well as you. Stoop down, Capet, so that I can cut your hair off." The child let his head fall; but a faint, carefully suppressed sob came from his breast, while Simon's shears went clashing through his locks, severing them from his head.

"What are you crying for, Capet?" asked Simon, zealously going forward with his work.

"I am so sorry, master, to have my locks cut off."

"You probably suppose, you vain monkey, that your locks are particularly beautiful?"

"Oh, no, master! It is only," sighed the boy with his eyes full of tears—" it is only because her hand has rested on them, and because she kissed them when I saw her the last time."

"Who is she?" asked Simon, roughly.

"My mamma queen," replied Louis with such a tone of tenderness as to bring tears into the eyes of Jeanne Marie, and even to move the cobbler himself.

"Hush!" he said, softly. "Hush! you must never call your mother by such a name. After to-morrow morning you are to be the son of a washerwoman. Remember that, and now be still! There, your hair is done now. Pick up the locks from the floor and lay them on the table, Jeanne Marie. We must leave them here, that the officer may find them in the morning, and not wonder if he does not recognize the urchin. Now we will bring the wash-basket, and see whether young Capet will go into it. "

He brought out of the chamber a high, covered basket, grasped the boy, thrust him in, and ordered him to lie down on the bottom of the basket.

"He exactly fits!" said Simon to his wife. "We will now throw some dirty clothes over him, and he can spend the night in the basket. We must be ready for any thing; for there are many distrustful officials, and it would not be the first time that they have made examinations in the night. Little Capet must remain in the basket, and now we will take his substitute out of the horse."

He went to the hobby-horse, took out some screws which ran along the edges of the upholstery, and then carefully removed the upper part of the animal from the lower. In the hollow thus brought to light, lay a pale, sick boy, with closed eyes—the nephew of the Marquis de Jarjayes, the last descendant of the Baroness de Tarclif, now, as all his ancestors had done, to give his life for his king.

Jeanne Marie rose from her knees, took a light from the table, and approached the child, which was lying in its confined space as in a coffin.

The little prince had raised himself up in his basket, and his pale face was visible as he looked, out of his large blue eyes, with curiosity and amazement at the sick child.

"He does not look like the king's son," whispered Jeanne Marie, after a long, searching study of the pale, bloated face of the idiot.

"We will put his clothes on at once, then he will look all right, for clothes make the man. Stand up, little one, you need to get up. You are not to stay any longer in your curious prison."

"He does not understand you," said Jeanne Marie. "Do not you remember that Toulan told us that the boy is perfectly deaf and dumb?"

"True; I had forgotten it, and yet it is fortunate for us, for a deaf and dumb person cannot disclose any dangerous secrets. Come, Jeanne Marie, give me the clothes; we will dress up the little mute like a prince."

They put upon him the velvet jacket, the short trowsers of black cloth, the shoes and stockings of the prince, who still was looking out of his basket at the pale, softly-moaning child, which was now placed by Simon and his wife on the mattress.

"There," said Simon, throwing the coverlet over the boy, "there, the royal prince is ready, and we can say, as they used to do at St. Denis, when they brought a new occupant into the royal vault, 'Le roi est mort, vive le roi! ' Lie quietly in your basket, Capet, for you see you are deposed, and your successor has your throne."

"Master," whispered Louis, anxiously and timidly, "master, may I ask you a question?"

"Well, yes, you may, you little nameless toad. What is it?"

"Master, will the sick child have to die, if I am saved?"

"What do you mean, youngster? What are you at?"

"I only mean, master—I only wanted to say that if the poor boy must die, if he takes my place, why—I should rather stay here. For—"

"Well, go on, stupid! what do you mean by your 'for?' You would rather remain here?"

"Yes, master, if another is to die and be beaten and tortured, for blows hurt so much, and I should not like to have another boy receive them instead of me. That would be wicked in me, and—"

"And you are a stupid fellow, and do not know any thing you are talking about," said Simon, shaking his fist at him. " Just put on airs, and speak another such a foolish word, and I will not only beat you to death, but I will beat this miserable, whining youngster to death too, and then you will certainly be to blame for it. Down with you into the basket, and if you venture to put your head up again, and if to-morrow you are not obedient and do just what we bid you, I will beat you and him, both of you, to pieces, and pack you into the clothes-basket, and carry you away. Down into the basket!"

The boy sank down out of sight; and when, after a little while, Jeanne Marie cautiously looked to see whether he had fallen asleep, she saw that Louis Charles was kneeling on the bottom of the basket, and raising his folded hands up to heaven.

"Simon," she whispered—" Simon, do not laugh at me and scold me. You say, I know, that there is no God, and the republic has done away with Deity, and the Church, and the priests. But let me once kneel down and pray to Him with whom little Louis Charles is talking now, and to whom the Austrian spoke on the scaffold."

Without waiting for Simon's answer, Jeanne Marie sank upon her knees. Folding her hands, she leaned her forehead on the rim of the basket, and softly whispered, "Louis Charles, do you hear me?"

"Yes," lisped the child, "I hear you."

"I ask your forgiveness," whispered Jeanne Marie. "I have sinned dreadfully against you, but remorse has taken hold of my heart, and tears it in pieces and gives me no rest day or night. Oh, forgive me, son of the queen, and when you pray, implore your mother to forgive me the evil that I have done her."

"I will pray to my dear mamma queen for you, and I know she will forgive you, for she was so very good, and she always said to me that we must forgive our enemies; and I had to swear to my dear papa that I would forget and forgive all the wrong that men should do to me. And so I forgive you, and I will forget all the bad things that Master Simon has done to me, for my papa and my mamma wished me to."

Jeanne Marie let her head sink lower, and pressed her hands firmly against her lips to repress the outcries which her remorseful conscience prompted. Simon seemed to understand nothing of this soft whispering; he was busily engaged in packing up his things, and no one saw him hastily draw his hand over his eyes, as if he wanted to wipe away the dust which suddenly prevented his seeing.

Gradually it grew still in the gloomy room. The whispering in the basket ceased. Jeanne Marie had retired to her bed, and had wept herself to sleep. Upon the mattress lay the sick, sobbing child, the substitute of King Louis XVII., who was in the basket.

Simon was the only one who was awake, and there must have been dismal thoughts that busied him. He sat upon the stool near the candle, which was nearly burned out, his forehead was corrugated and clouded, his lips were closely pressed together, and the little, flashing eyes looked out into the empty space full of anger and threatenings.

"It must be," he muttered at last, "it must be. I should otherwise not have a moment's peace, and always feel the knife at my throat. One of us must be away from here, in order that he may disclose the other. I will not be that one, it must be Toulan."

He stood up with the air of one who had made a fixed, unchangeable resolve, and stretched his bony, crooked limbs. Then he threw one last look at the stranger-child, that lay moaning and groaning on his mattress, fell upon his bed, and soon his long-drawn, sonorous breathing disclosed the fact that Master Simon was asleep.

On the next morning there reigned in the lower stories of the Temple a busy, stirring life. Master Simon was preparing to move, and all his household goods were set out in the court, in order to be transferred to the wagon that Commissioner Toulan had ordered. Close to the wagon stood one of the officials of the Public Safety, and examined every article of furniture that was put into it, opening even the bandboxes and pillows to look into them. Not, as he said, the Welfare Committee doubted the honesty of the faithful and zealous servant of the republic, but only to satisfy the forms, and to comply with the laws, which demanded that the authorities should have a watchful eye on every thing that was at all connected with the family of the tyrants.

"And you will do me a great pleasure if you will examine every thing with the utmost care. In the republic we are all alike, and I do not see why I should not be served to-day as another would be on the morrow. You know, probably, that I have been appointed collector at Porte Macon, and after to-morrow I shall have to inspect the goods of other people. It is all fair that I should have my turn to-day. Besides, you will not have much more to examine, we are almost through; I believe there is only a basket with the soiled clothes yet to come. That is the sacred possession of my wife, and she was going to bring it out herself, with the commissioner's help. Yes, there they come."

At that moment, Jeanne Marie appeared in the court, followed by Toulan. They brought along, by two ropes which served as handles, a large and longish basket, whose half-opened cover brought to view all kinds of women's clothes.

"Room there," cried Simon, with a laugh, "room for the Citoyenne
Simon and her costly dowry!"

"Come, no joking, Simon," said his wife, threatening him with her fist and laughing. "If my dowry is not costly enough, I will only ask you to provide me with better things."

"Your dowry is magnificent," said Simon, "and there is not a single article lacking to make it complete. Come, I will help the commissioner put the basket in the wagon, for it is too heavy for you, my fairest one!"

He took hold of the basket with his strong arm, and helped the commissioner swing it into the wagon.

"But let me look first into the basket, as my duty demands," said the official. "You are too quick! You know, citizen, that I must examine all your goods. The law compels me to."

"Then I beg you to climb up into the wagon and open the basket," said Simon, calmly. "You cannot want us to take the heavy thing down again for you to examine it."

"I do not ask that, citizen, but I must examine the basket."

The official sprang into the wagon, but Jeanne Marie was quicker than he, and stood close by the basket, whose cover was partly opened.

"Look in, citizen," she said, with dignity. "Convince yourself that only the clothing of a woman is in it, and then tell the republic that you found it necessary to examine the basket of the famous knitter of the guillotine, as if Jeanne Marie was a disguised duchess, who wanted to fly from the hand of justice."

"I beg your pardon," said the official, "every one knows and honors the knitter of the guillotine, but—"

"But you are curious, and want to see some of my clothes. Well, look at them!" She raised those which lay at the top, and held them up to the official with a laugh.

"And down below? What is farther down in the basket?"

"Farther down," replied Jeanne Marie, with an expression of the greatest indignation and the most outraged modesty, "farther down are my dirty clothes, and I hope the republic will not consider it necessary to examine these too. I would at least oppose it, and call every female friend I have to my help." [Footnote: Madame Simon's own words, reported from her own account, which she gave in the year 1810 to the Sisters of Mercy who cared for her in her last sickness. The sisterhood of the female hospital in the rue Sevres publicly repeated, in the year 1851, this statement of Jeanne Marie Simon, who died there in 1819. It was in the civil process brought against the Duke de Normandy, who was accused of giving himself out falsely as King Louis XVII., and who could not be proved not to be he.]

"Oh! you will not have to do that," replied the official, with a friendly nod of the head. "It would be presumptuous to go farther with the examination of your goods, and the republic regards with respect the mysteries of an honorable wife."

He jumped down from the wagon, while Jeanne Marie, still wearing an angry look, laid the clothes back into the basket, and shut the cover down.

"Can we go now?" she asked, taking her seat on a low stool which happened to be near the great basket.

"Yes, if the official has nothing against it, we can go," answered
Simon. "Our goods are all loaded."

"Then go on, I have nothing against it, and I wish you and your wife much happiness and joy in your new career."

The official waved them a last gracious adieu with the hand, and the wagon started. Alongside of the great, hard-mouthed and long-haired horse that drew the cart, walked the commissioner, in order, once in a while, when they had to turn a corner, to seize the bridle and give it a powerful jerk. At the side of the wagon strode Simon, keeping a watchful eye upon his possessions, and carefully setting every thing aright which was in danger of being shaken off upon the pavement. Above in the carriage near the great basket sat Jeanne Marie, the former knitter of the guillotine. Her naked brown arm rested upon the basket, on whose bottom, covered with dirty linen and Mistress Simon's clothes, was the son of Marie Antoinette, King Louis XVII., making his entrance into the world which should have for him only sufferings and illusions, shattered hopes and dethroned ideals.

This happened on the 19th of January, 1794, and on the very day in which the unhappy King Louis XVII. was leaving the Temple, his sister Theresa, who was still living with her Aunt Elizabeth in the upper rooms, wrote in her diary (known subsequently by the title "Recit des evenements arrives au Temple, par Madame Royale") the following words: "On the 19th of January my aunt and I heard beneath us, in the room of my brother, a great noise which made us suspect that my brother was leaving the Temple.

We were convinced of it when, looking through the keyhole of the door, we saw goods carried away. On the following day we heard the door of the room, in which my brother had been, opened, and recognized the steps of men walking around, which confirmed us in the belief that he had been carried away."

The pitiful wagon, which gave its hospitality to the knitter of the revolution, as well as to a king, drove slowly and carefully through the streets, unnoticed by the people who hastily passed by. Now and then they encountered a commissioner who came up to Toulan, greeted him as an acquaintance, and asked after his welfare. Toulan nodded to them confidentially and answered them loudly that he was very well, and that he was helping Simon move out of the Temple and going with him to Porte Macon.

The commissioners then wished him a pleasant journey, and went their way; but the farther they were from the wagon, the quicker were their steps, and here and there they met other commissioners, to whom they repeated Toulan's words, and who then went from there and again told them over to their friends in the streets, in quiet, hidden chambers, and in brilliant palaces. In one such palace the tidings caused a singular commotion. Count Frotte, who lived there, and whom the public permitted to live in Paris, ordered his travelling carriage to be brought out at once. The postilion, with four swift horses, had already stood in the court below half an hour, waiting for this order. The horses were quickly harnessed to the carriage, which was well filled with trunks; and scarcely had it reached the front door, when the count hurried down the grand staircase, thickly wrapped in his riding-furs. At his right sat a little boy of scarcely ten years, a velvet cap, trimmed with fur, upon his short, fair hair; the slender, graceful form concealed with a long velvet cloak, that fell down as far as the shoes with golden, jewelled buckles.

Count Frotte seemed to bestow special care and attention upon this boy, for he not only had him sit on his right, but remained standing near the door, to give precedence to the boy, and then hastened to follow him. He pressed the servants back who stood near the open door, bowed respectfully, and gave his hand to the lad to assist him in ascending. The youth received these tokens of respect quietly, and seemed to take it as a matter of course that Count Frotte should carefully put furs around his feet and body, in order to protect him from every draft. As soon as this was done, the count entered the carriage, and took his place at the left of the boy. The servant closed the carriage-door with a loud slam, and the steward advanced with respectful mien, and asked whither the count would order to go.

"The road to Puy," said the count, with a loud voice, and the steward repeated to the postilion just as loudly and clearly, "The road to Puy."

The carriage drove thunderingly out of the court-door, and the servant looked after it till it disappeared, and then followed the house-steward, who motioned him to come into the cabinet.

"I have something to tell you, citizen," said the steward, with a weighty air, "but first I must beg you to make me a solemn promise that you will continue a faithful and obedient servant of the count, and prove in no way false to your oath and your duty."

The servant pledged himself solemnly, and the steward continued: "The count has undertaken a journey which is not to be spoken of, and is to remain, if possible, a secret. I demand of you, therefore, that if any one asks where the count has gone, you answer that you do not know. But above all things, you are not to say that the count is not travelling alone, but in company with the young-gentleman, whose name and rank I know just as little about as you. Will you promise to faithfully heed my words?"

The servant asserted it with solemn oaths and an expression of deep reverence. The steward beckoned to him to go, and then looked at him for a long time, and with a singular expression as he withdrew.

"He is a spy of the Safety Committee," he whispered to himself. "I am convinced that he is so, and he will certainly go at once and report to the authorities, and they will break their heads thinking what the count has to do in Puy, and who the boy is who accompanies my lord. Well, that is exactly what we want: to put the bloodhounds and murderers on a false scent. That is just the object of the count, and for that purpose M. Morin de Gueriviere has lent his only son, for all that we have and are, our lives, our children, and every thing else, belong to our king and lord. I hope, therefore, that the count's plan will succeed, and the Safety Committee be put on a false scent."

Meanwhile the pitiful carriage containing Simon's goods had slowly taken its way through the streets and halted at its goal, the custom-house near Porte Macon. Before the building stood a woman in the neat and tasteful costume of the washerwomen from the village of Vannes, which then, as now, was the abode of the washerwomen of Paris.

"Well," cried the woman, with a loud laugh, helping Mistress Simon dismount from the wagon—" well, you have come at last. For two hours I have been waiting for you, for you ordered me to be here at eleven, and now it is one. What will my husband and my little boy say about my coming home so late?"

"I beg your pardon," said Jeanne Marie, with a kindly voice. "Our ride was a good deal slower than I thought, for the things were packed only loosely, and if we had ridden faster they would easily have been injured. But, I will not detain you longer, and you shall have my wash at once. There are a great many clothes this time, and I have therefore thrown them all at once into the basket; so you can put the basket right upon your wagon and bring the things back in it. Halloa, Simon, and you, commissioner, take hold and lift the basket down, and carry it out to the washerwoman's wagon that is standing near the gate."

The two men immediately lifted the great basket out, and carried it to the open cart which stood there, in which lay arranged in regular order great bundles of dirty linen. Near the gate stood the sub- collector, whose superior Simon now was, and it therefore did not occur to him to examine the basket which his new chief was putting in the washerwoman's wagon. Some busybodies who stood around turned their whole attention to the wagon which contained the furniture and goods of the new collector, who was, of course, a very important person in this remote quarter, and Jeanne Marie endeavored with her loud words and choleric gesticulations to fasten the attention of the idlers upon herself. Nobody regarded the two men, who had just put the basket into the washerwoman's cart, and no one heard the words that they softly spoke together.

The washerwoman had raised the cover, and was rolling around the clothes, as if she wanted to examine the contents of the basket.

"Sire," she whispered, softly, as she did so—"sire, do you hear me?"

A weak, faint voice replied, "I hear you."

"And shall you be able to bear it, if you stay a little longer in your hiding-place?"

"Oh yes, I shall be able to bear it; but I am anxious, and I should like to be away from here."

The washerwoman closed the cover of the basket, and sprang down from the wagon. "Every thing is in order," she said, "and it is high time that I should be off. I have a long way to go, and my husband and child are expecting me."

"Then go, with God's blessing," said the commissioner, shaking hands with the washerwoman as if she were an old acquaintance." Go, with God's blessing, and may He protect you from all calamity, and bless you with happiness and joy!"

He spoke loudly, as if this was intended for the ear of some person besides the washerwoman. And another had heard the words of Toulan, and a soft and tremulous voice called: "Farewell, Fidele; I thank you, dear Toulan."

The wagon was at once in motion, and drove quickly down the street through the rows of small houses in the suburbs. The two men stood and looked after it till the washerwoman's carriage disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Toulan raised his eyes slowly to heaven, and a pious expression illumined his good, energetic countenance.

"Thou lookest down upon me, my queen and mistress," he said, softly and inaudibly." I feel the glance of thy heavenly eyes, and it rests like a hallowed blessing upon my thankful heart. I know, my queen, that thou art satisfied with me this hour, and it seems to me as if thy loved voice were whispering above me in the air the word Fidele. Give me now thy blessing, that I may end my work, and rescue the daughter and the sister as I have rescued the son. My life is devoted to thy service, and I shall save all thy dear ones or die!"

"Well, Toulan," said Simon, softly, "I have kept my word, and little
Capet is released. Are you going to keep yours?"

"Certainly I shall," said Toulan, whose glance slowly fell from heaven, and whose face still glowed like one in a trance. "Yes, Simon, I shall keep my word to you as you have yours to me. Come into your house, that I may pay you."

He withdrew quickly from the gate and entered the house which thereafter was to be the house of the collector Simon. All was going on busily there, for Jeanne Marie had impressed into her service not only the sub-collector but some of the curious spectators, and she scolded her husband, who was just coming in with Toulan, for talking too long with the washerwoman instead of helping her.

"Do you two take the heavy mattresses and carry them into the next room."

The two men quickly obeyed, and bore the mattresses into the chamber. Then they locked themselves in.

Toulan took several rolls from the great waistcoat which he wore under his blue blouse, broke them asunder, and let the gold-pieces fall out upon the mattress.

"Count them, Simon," he said, "to see that there are exactly two hundred and fifty double gold-pieces, all bearing the exalted symbols of 'he one, great, and indivisible republic.' May they bring you joy, and be a reward for the great good fortune which you have brought to me, and to all who love the king and his house."

"But will no one reveal me?" asked Simon, anxiously, while busily engaged in collecting the gold-pieces, and hiding them between the mattresses. "Say, Toulan, will no one divulge and report me to the authorities?"

"Be quiet, Simon, and fear nothing. To betray you, would be at the same time to betray the great cause which we serve, and to surrender the young king to the persecution of his enemies. But no one knows, excepting me, that of your own free will you have helped save the king. With express reference to your safety, I have made all the other allies believe that I have deceived you, and that you know nothing of the concealment of the child. So be entirely without concern. Only Toulan knows your secret, and Toulan is silent as the grave. But let us go out now and help your wife bring the things into the house, and afterward you can let me go without any further leave-taking. Farewell, citizen; may you be entirely successful in your new field of labor."

He nodded with a friendly air to Simon, and as Jeanne Marie just then called the commissioner with a loud voice, Toulan hastily opened the door and hurried to her.

Simon followed him with a long, dark look. Then he slowly shook his head, and his eye kindled.

"It must be," he said to himself, softly. "I should otherwise have no rest day or night, and it would be worse than in the Temple. He said so himself: only Toulan knows my secret. So if Toulan dies, my secret dies with Toulan, and is buried with him, and I cart then enjoy my life, and shall not need to live in anxiety, and in perpetual fear of being betrayed. But," he continued, after a brief pause, "what is done, must be done quickly, otherwise I may fall into the very pit I have digged for Toulan! If the little Capet is fairly carried to a place of safety, and escapes out of the republic, Toulan can avenge himself by reporting the whole story and bringing me to misfortune. I must, therefore, while I am secure, take away from the fellow the means of betraying me. Yes, yes, it must be so; Toulan must die, that Simon may live. Look out for your own self first, and then your neighbors."

With a decided step, Simon left the room, and entered the chamber, where Toulan was busy with Jeanne Marie in arranging the furniture.

"I am glad to find you here still," said Simon, nodding to him; "for I had entirely forgotten to tell you that I have a present for you, which will certainly please you, and which I have saved and laid away expressly for you."

"What is it, Simon? What kind of a present have you for me?"

"A very precious one, at least such as you and your like will consider so, I think. I have the long, yellow locks which Jeanne Marie cut yesterday from little Capet's head."

"And will you give them to me?" asked Toulan, eagerly.

"Yes, that will I, and it is for that purpose that I have brought them along. They are lying, with all the letters, in my work-box. But I cannot get at them to-day in all the confusion, for they are at the very bottom of the box. But come to-morrow morning, and you shall receive your costly treasure. If you like, you can come about nine o'clock; and if I should happen to have any thing to do, and not be here, I will give the hair to Jeanne Marie, and she will hand it to you."

"Be sure that I shall come," said Toulan, earnestly. "Give me your hand, and let me thank you for your delicate act of kindness. I certainly did you a wrong, for I did not hold you capable of such a deed. I thank you, Simon, I thank you from my heart; and to-morrow morning, punctually at nine, I shall be here to receive my precious possession. Farewell till then, Simon! I have no quiet now, but must run around and see whether every thing seems as usual in the Temple, and our secret undiscovered." He hastened away, and disappeared around the corner.

The whole day Simon was busy with his own thoughts, and engaged in arranging the furniture, with his mind clearly not on his work. In the afternoon he declared that he must go to the Temple again, because in the upper corridor he had left a chest with some utensils in it which were his.

"It seems to me, husband, you are homesick for the Temple," said Jeanne Marie jestingly, "and you are sad because you are no longer in the old, black walls."

"Yes, I am homesick for the Temple," replied Simon, "and that is why
I go there."

But he did not take the way to the Temple, but to the city hall, and rang the bell so violently that the porter dashed to the door to open it.

"It is you, citizen," he ejaculated. "I thought something must have happened."

"Something has happened, and I have come to inform the Committee of
Safety," answered Simon, impetuously.

"Has it met?"

"Yes, it is in the little council-chamber. You will find an officer at the door, and can let him announce you."

Simon strode forward and found the sentinel before the door, who asked him what his business there was.

"Go in, citizen, and announce that Simon is here, and brings important news, of great peril to the state."

A minute later, Simon was ushered into the hall in which the Safety Committee were assembled. All those stern-faced men of the republic knew Simon as a faithful and zealous republican, upon whose devotion they could reckon, and whose fidelity was immovable.

"I am come," said Simon, slowly, "I am come to bring an accusation against a certain person as a conspirator against the republic, and a traitor to our liberties."

"Who is it, and what has he done?" asked the chairman, with a cold smile.

"What has he done? He means to do something, and I mean to prevent him. He means to release the wolf's whelp from the Temple. Who knows but he may have done so already, for when I left the Temple this morning, my successor had not come, and little Capet was alone. Who is it that is able to release the boy and the two ladies? It is Toulan, the traitor, the royalist Toulan!"

"Toulan!" replied Petion, with a shrug. "We know very well that Toulan is a traitor, and that the republic can expect only the worst from him that he can do. He was accused once, but escaped merited punishment by flight, and he has unquestionably gone to Coblentz to join the tyrant's brothers there. Our police are watchful, and have discovered not a trace of him."

"Then allow me to put the police on his track," said Simon, laughing. "Be so good as to send a couple of officers to me tomorrow, and I will deliver Toulan, the traitor, into their hands."