When a Cobbler Ruled the King

by Augusta Huiell Seaman

"Oh, yes, yes!" answered Jean. "But how he came to, I know not."

"Well, I do," returned Prevôt, "for I let him out of the house that night. The poor little beast had been pining away for weeks and weeks. He would eat almost nothing, and when we tried to make him do that clever trick, he would only lie down and whine. It was plain that his heart was breaking. So, one night when he was out on some spying expedition, I quietly opened the door, and the little animal was off and away like a flash. I supposed he would get back to you. My soul! But I had to stand a tirade from him when he came back, for I represented to him how the beast must have sneaked out unawares!"

"I can never thank you enough!" said Jean gladly. "We all love the little thing so!"

"But that's not all I have to say," went on Prevôt. "And the rest is more serious! Do you know that he has been keeping an eye on you for a long time? Well, he has had his suspicions that you were mixed up in one or two things concerning those in the Tower, but he could never be quite certain till this morning, when he caught you in communication with Tison, and saw Tison hand you something, secretly. Then he put two and two together, and became convinced that you were in some plot to aid those Capets. My lad, to-day he denounced you to the authorities! To-morrow morning you will be arrested and then off with you to La Conciergerie,—and you can imagine the rest! Tison is to be treated to the same attention, only he will probably go to some other prison. Then said I to myself, that fellow is too bright a young chap to afford a mouthful to La Guillotine, and I'm going to give him at least a warning! Cut away to-night, young Jean! If you start at once without even going home, by to-morrow you can be far out of Paris and the reach of him!"

Jean's heart almost stopped beating at the news, yet, singularly enough, so long had he been expecting the blow, that when it fell his one thought was, "It has come at last!" He could not even command words in which to thank this kind-hearted sans-culotte for his timely warning. But Prevôt understood and grasped his hand:

"Don't try to thank me, lad! Make haste to get away, and to-morrow morning there will be one victim the less, thank heaven! I must return at once, for he will be missing me, and of course suspecting something! Adieu!" And he was gone before the boy could open his lips.

For many minutes Jean stood there in the darkness, striving to collect his thoughts. What was he to do! Circumstance having thus opened the way for him, combining his safety with one of his most cherished wishes, it was an almost irresistible temptation to flee from Paris, seek out his hero and friend in Marseilles, and become a soldier of France. It was a situation that would have tested the courage and loyalty of many an older and more experienced mind. But turn and twist it as he would, the position admitted of one outcome only, for him. Did he take good Citizen Prevôt's advice and escape before morning, what would be the inevitable result? Simply this—that Mère Clouet and Yvonne would be suspected of complicity with him, and they would, without doubt, take his place in one of the overflowing prisons. That they should suffer while he went scot-free was unthinkable. And of course they could not all attempt to escape,—that would mean certain apprehension with its inevitable results. On the other hand, did he stand his ground, go about his usual duties to-morrow and accept his arrest as if innocent, there was one chance in a hundred that he might be so considered, and ultimately set free. And even at the worst, no matter what happened to him, Mère Clouet and Yvonne would probably escape suspicion.

Then there was one other consideration,—the dead Queen's little book of prayers that he held concealed, in trust for her misused son. That must be delivered at all cost, and in order to facilitate this he must go on to the Rue de Lille and entrust it to Yvonne. No!—the longer he thought about it, the plainer his duty became. He must accept with the best grace possible what fate had in store for him, execute the mission that had been entrusted to him, and see that no harm came through him, to those who stood for all the family that he could claim in this world. Once arrived at this conclusion, his heart actually felt lighter. With all due gratitude to Prevôt, he hurried home, determined to act on the morrow as though in complete ignorance of what awaited him.

But when he reached the Rue de Lille, it was with a very grave face. So unlike his usual gay self was he, that Mère Clouet was alarmed. Jean, however, told her nothing. He ate his late supper, fed Moufflet, and tried hard to act as though all were as usual. But when the Citizeness Clouet had left the room for a time, Jean drew Yvonne aside and took her into his confidence.

"Do not tell good Mère Clouet yet," he ended. "She must go to-morrow with the laundry, and I want her to know nothing, till afterward!" Poor little Yvonne grew white with terror.