Names new to him were in every mouth, and, the last doubts swept away, he saw with concern for his own safety that the ship of state, guided by such agitators as he saw around, was predestined to disaster. Urged by curiosity, he attended the meetings of new-fangled clubs, and was amazed at the language used there--words which a couple of years ago would have jeopardized the heads of the speakers. He read the Ami du Peuple, a popular journal edited by one, Marat, which openly advocated regicide; and became acquainted with a forbidding person of greenish complexion and smooth aspect whom men called Robespierre. Were these ever to obtain mastery in the confusion, there were dark days in store for France, much tribulation for scions of nobility. Their majesties were still residing at the Tuileries, but how draggled was the royal ermine! The queen dared not to look out of a window for fear of insult. Stepping, on one occasion, into an inner court to breathe some air, the soldier on guard shook his fist at her and courteously declared how pleased he would be to have her head upon his bayonet. Anarchy and crime marched hand in hand, no longer keeping in the shadow; and the worst of all was that the movement Pharamond had been watching showed signs--as by this time the blindest of moles might perceive--of being no transient one, which interference from without might quell. A mighty nation had risen in its strength to protest against intolerable abuses, and so many villains and madmen had risen in wild crusade against things established, that no wonder it lost its senses. True, a good proportion of villains and madmen had already gone under in the conflict, having devoured each other piecemeal; but as these disappeared others, every bit as vile, arose to fill their places.
The long threatened collision with other nations was by this time a fact. The country was formally declared to be in danger. All the remaining property of those who had fled was seized in obedience to an edict promulgated some time since, to defray the expenses of the conflict.
The first act, and one of marked significance, dictated to the abbé by caution, was a change of garb, for in April, when religious communities were suppressed, the wearing of ecclesiastical costumes was prohibited. When religion topples, chaos shows its face.
Seeing what he saw on all sides, Pharamond might well be anxious, and look forward with interest to the reading of de Brèze's will. Within its parchment folds lay the key of the future, for upon the conditions expressed in the document hung the fortune of the party, and he could not but feel serious misgivings with regard to inconvenient stipulations. He had been wrong in supposing that the storm could be weathered at Lorge; of that all he beheld in Paris spoke with eloquence. Sooner or later, every noble in the land would be compelled to emigrate, or gravely risk his life. It was merely a question of how much the sooner or the later their party must join the exodus.
It was a fortunate thing that de Brèze long ago should have deposited the bulk of the money bags in Necker's bank at Geneva. The Chateau of Lorge must be left to its fate. It really mattered little, since when provided with means, palaces will spring up at our bidding on eligible spots. It was essential to learn without delay whether he had left his fortune to the marquise absolutely, or vested it, under care of trustees, for her benefit. In the latter case she was safe, for it would be necessary to be civil to her always, which would be fatiguing; in the former, she must be cajoled to leave the country with the brothers, for some quiet place, where she could be skilfully moulded to their wishes. But what if, for some whimsy, she refused, or if there were special stipulations which would interfere with a flitting? After that artful trick of the clandestine letter there was no trusting her apparent openness. Well, well, there was no use in idle speculation. It was a most lucky circumstance, in any case, that her only protector should be dead.
M. Galland read the will to the brothers in the absence of the heiress, for she was too much overcome by her loss to care about the provisions of the testament; and Clovis raged inwardly the while, for the solicitor had a dubious way of glancing from one to the other of the three, which could hardly be called respectful. The effect of the reading on the auditors was curiously different. The chevalier blinked and smiled, as if he scarcely understood; the abbé, not displeased, nodded politely from time to time, and purred out his satisfaction; Clovis had much ado to conceal his disappointment.
The property was left to the marquise absolutely, the will being a new one, signed a few hours before death. It was worded with extreme care, so that the entire inheritance should be at her own disposal, out of reach of Clovis as of others. This to clever Pharamond seemed a small matter, for had not the lady shown in the past that she was indifferent to dross, and would it not be an amusing bit of diplomacy to direct her as to its disposal? There were no vexatious stipulations: so far, well; and the nimble mind of the abbé began straightway to erect new card-castles for the housing of the coveted money bags. Clovis was exasperated, which was a good point that might be played on with advantage later. It was evident that his vanity was touched on the raw, for, filled as he was with deep resentment, it smouldered all the more fiercely in that he was ashamed to show it.
Was his spouse to nip his nose with the tongs for the rest of his natural life? Was he to be an obedient serf who could not touch a stiver without her express consent? At the time of his marriage he was not troubled on the subject, because the money being the maréchal's it was necessary, for the time being, to submit to his crotchety but not illiberal ways. But now that he was dead? The husband was to bend beneath the yoke, to be under the thumb of this wife of his, who had shown recently that she could assert herself, and who would, of course, now that she knew her power and disliked her spouse, use it to oppress and injure him.
As the trio walked home from M. Galland's office, the usually dreamy marquis was roused to a pitch of ire which Pharamond fanned into a flame.
"My poor fellow," he said, "I bleed for you, but we must make the best of a bad job. Be civil to her, always civil, and she will let you dip into her purse."