When Charny had been aroused in the midst of his joy and happiness by the echo of deeds in Paris, he had come, pale but resolute, to say to his wife:
"Dear Andrea, the King of France runs the risk of his life, and needs all his defenders. What ought I do?"
"Go where duty calls you, my dear George," she had replied, "and die for the king if you must."
"But how about you?" he asked.
"Do not be uneasy about me," she said. "As I live but in you, God may allow that we shall die together."
That settled all between those great hearts; they did not exchange a word further. When the post-horses came to the door, they set out, and were in town in five hours.
That same evening, we have seen Charny present himself for duty in his naval uniform at the same time that Dr. Gilbert was going to send for him.
Since that hour we know that he never quitted the queen.
Andrea had remained alone, shut in, praying; for a space she entertained the idea of imitating her husband, and claiming her station beside the queen, as he had beside the king; but she had not the courage.
The day of the ninth passed for her in anguish, but without anything positive. At nine in the morning next day she heard the cannon; it is needless to say that each echo of the war-like thunder thrilled her to the inmost fiber of her heart. The firing died out about two o'clock.