“The Revolution came at last, sweeping like a torrent over the land. It blasted as it went; beneath its baneful breath everything withered and wasted; loyalty, religion, affection, and brotherly love, all died out in the devoted country; anarchy and bloodshed were masters of the scene. The first dreadful act of this fearful drama passed like a dream to those who, at a distance from Paris, only read of the atrocities of that wretched capital; but when the wave rolled nearer; when crowds of armed men, wild and savage in look, with ragged uniforms and bloodstained hands, prowled about the villages where in happier times a soldier had never been seen; when the mob around the guillotine supplied the place of the gathering at the market; when the pavement was wet and slippery with human blood,—men's natures suddenly became changed, as though some terrible curse from on high had fallen on them. Their minds caught up the fearful contagion of revolt, and a mad impulse to deny all they had once held sacred and venerable seized on all. Their blasphemies against religion went hand in hand with their desecration of everything holy in social life, and a pre-eminence in guilt became the highest object of ambition. Sated with slaughter, bloated with crime, the nation reeled like a drunken savage over the ruin it created, and with the insane lust of blood poured forth its armed thousands throughout the whole of Europe.
“Then began the much-boasted triumphs of the Revolutionary armies,—the lauded victories of those great asserters of liberty; say rather the carnage of famished wolves, the devastating rage of bloodthirsty maniacs. The conscription seized on the whole youth of France, as if fearful that in the untarnished minds of the young the seeds of better things might bear fruit in season. They carried them away to scenes of violence and rapine, where, amid the shouts of battle and the cries of the dying, no voice of human sympathy might touch their hearts, no trembling of remorse should stir within them.
“'You are named in the conscription, Monsieur, said Léon, in a short, abrupt tone, as one morning he entered the dressing-room of his young master.
“'I! I named in the conscription!' replied the other, with a look of incredulity and anger. 'This is but a sorry jest, Master Léon; and not in too good taste, either.'
“'Good or bad,' answered the steward, 'the fact is as I say; here is the order from the municipalite. You were fifteen yesterday, you know.'
“'True; and what then? Am I not Marquis de Neufchâtel, Comte de Rochefort, in right of my mother?'
“'There are no more marquises, no more counts,' said the other, roughly; 'France has had enough of such cattle. The less you allude to them the safer for your head.'
“He spoke truly,—the reign of the aristocracy was ended. And while they were yet speaking, an emissary of the Convention, accompanied by a party of troops, arrived at the château to fetch away the newly-drawn conscript.
“I must not dwell on the scene which followed: the heartrending sorrow of those who had lived but for each other, now torn asunder for the first time, not knowing when, if ever, they were to meet again. His sister wished to follow him; but even had he permitted it, such would have been impossible: the dreadful career of a Revolutionary soldier was an obstacle insurmountable. The same evening the battalion of infantry to which he was attached began their march towards Savoy, and the lovely orphan of the château fell dangerously ill.
“Youth, however, triumphed over her malady, which, indeed, was brought on by grief; and after some weeks she was restored to health. During the interval, nothing could be more kind and attentive than Léon Guichard; his manner, of late years rough and uncivil, became softened and tender; the hundred little attentions which illness seeks for he paid with zeal and watchfulness; everything which could alleviate her sorrow or calm her afflicted mind was resorted to with a kind of instinctive delicacy, and she began to feel that in her long-cherished dislike of the intendant she had done him grievous wrong.