Marie Antoinette and Her Son Part 74

"I have been silent about the past, as I have been commanded to," he said, "but I have not forgotten it."

"Do you remember your mother?" asked the prince.

The boy trembled convulsively, a glowing red pa.s.sed over his cheeks, and a deep paleness followed.

"Monsieur," he asked, with a tremulous voice, "would it be possible for me to forget my dear mamma queen?--my mamma queen who loved her little Louis Charles so much? Ah, sir, you would not have asked that if you had known how much pain you give me."

"I beg your pardon," said the prince, embarra.s.sed. "I see you remember. But let me try you once more. Will you tell me what happened to you after being taken away from your cruel foster- parents? What were those people's names, and what were they?"

"My foster-parents, or my tormentors rather, were called Mr. and Mistress Simon. The man had been a cobbler, but afterward he was superintendent and turnkey in the Temple, and when I was taken away from my mamma, sister, and aunt, I had to live with these dreadful people."

"Did you fare badly there?"

"Very badly, sir; I was scolded and ill-treated, and the worst of all was that they wanted to compel me to sing ribald songs about my mamma queen."

"But you did not sing these songs?" asked the Prince de Conde.

The eyes of the boy flamed. "No," he said, proudly, "I did not sing them. They might have beaten me to death. I would rather have died than have done it,"

The prince nodded approvingly. "And how did you escape from these people?" he asked.

"You know, Prince de Conde," answered the boy, smiling. "It is you who helped me escape."

"Tell me about this matter a little," said the prince, "and how you have fared since then. I contributed, as you suppose, to your release, but I was not present In person. How did you escape from the Temple?"

"I was put into a basket with soiled clothes, which Mistress Simon was taking away with her from the Temple. This basket she gave to a washerwoman who was waiting for us at the Macon gate. She had a little donkey-cart in readiness there, the basket was put into it, and went on to a village, the name of which I do not know. There we stopped; I was taken out of the basket and carried into a house, where we remained a few hours to rest and change our clothes."

"We? Whom do you mean by we?"

"Me and the supposed washerwoman," replied the boy. "This woman was, however, no other than M. de Jarjayes, whom I knew long ago, and who, with Fidele--I should say, with Toulan--had thought out and executed the plan of my escape. M. de Jarjayes changed his clothes, as did I also, and after remaining concealed in the house all day, in the evening we took a carriage and rode all night. On the next day we remained concealed in some house, and in the night we continued our journey."

"Did he tell you where you were going?"

"Jarjayes told me that the Prince de Conde was my protector and deliverer, that the magnanimous prince had furnished the necessary money, and that I should remain concealed in one of his palaces till the time should arrive to acknowledge me publicly. Till then, said M. de Jarjayes to me, I was never to speak of the past, nor disclose--single word about any thing that concerned myself or my family. He told me that if I did not follow his instructions literally, I should not only be brought back to Simon, but I should have to bear the blame of causing the death of my sister Therese and my aunt Elizabeth. You can understand, my prince, that after that I was dumb."

"Yes. I understand. Where did M. de Jarjayes carry you?"

"To one of the palaces of the Prince de Conde in loyal and beautiful Vendee. Ah, it was very delightful there, and there were very pleasant people about me. The story was that I was a nephew of the prince, and that on account of impaired health, I was obliged to go into the country and must be tended with great care. I had a preceptor there who gave me instruction, and sometimes the brave General Charette came to the palace on a visit. He was always very polite to me, and showed me all kinds of attention. One day he asked me to walk with him in the park. I did so, of course, and just as we entered a dark allee he fell upon his knees, called me majesty, said he knew very well that I was the King of France, and that the n.o.ble and loyal Prince de Conde had rescued me from prison."

"The devil!" muttered the prince to himself, "our dear friends are always our worst enemies."

The boy paid no attention to the words of Conde, and went on: "The general conjured me to confess to him that I was the son of King Louis, and I should follow him, remain with his little army, which would acknowledge me at once, and proclaim me King of France."

"And what did you answer?" asked Conde, eagerly.

"My lord," replied the boy, with proud, grave mien, "I told you that, I gave my word to M. de Jarjayes to divulge nothing till you should tell me that the right time had arrived. I could therefore confess nothing to Charette, and told him that he had fallen into a great error, and that I have and can lay claim to no other honor than of being the nephew of the Prince de Conde."

"You said that?" asked Conde, in amazement.

The boy raised his head with a quick movement, and something of the proud and fiery nature of Louis XIV. flashed in his eyes.

"I did not know then," he replied, "that my relations.h.i.+p to the Prince de Conde was not agreeable to him."

The prince looked troubled and perplexed, and dropped his eyes before the piercing gaze of the boy. "Go on, if I may venture to ask you," he said, softly. "What did General Charette do when you repelled him?"

"First he implored, and wept, and conjured me to trust him, and to lay aside my incognito before him, the truest and best of royalists.

But as I continued steadfast, and disclosed nothing, he became angry at length, pushed me away from him, threatened me with his fist, swore he would have his revenge on those who had deceived him, and declared that I was no Bourbon, for the son of my fathers would not be so weak and cowardly as to conceal his name and lineage."

"And you kept silent, in spite of this demand?"

"Yes, my lord, I kept silent; and, notwithstanding his pain and grief, I left him in the belief that he had deceived himself, or rather, that he had been deceived."

"Oh!" cried Conde, "it is plain that you have been steeled in the school of suffering, and that the years of misfortune like yours must each be reckoned double, for, in spite of your twelve years, you have acted like a man!"

"My lord," replied the boy, proudly, "the Bourbons attain their majority at fifteen, and at that age they may, according to the law of France, become independent sovereigns. They ought, therefore, to begin to learn young. That was the opinion of Queen Marie Antoinette, who taught me to read in my fifth year. You, my lord, have, in your magnanimity, done every thing to make me able to conform to the laws of my house, if it shall please G.o.d that the son of my dear unfortunate father should one day ascend the vacant throne of the Bourbons. Daring these two years which I have spent in concealment in your palace in Vendee, you have laid a strong and firm foundation, on which the superstructure of my life may rest. I have, thanks to the excellent teachers you have given me, had an opportunity to learn much, and to recall much which I had forgotten during the years before my release from imprisonment."

"Your teachers inform me that your industry was unceasing, and that you learned more in months than some do in years. You are familiar with several languages, and, besides, have been instructed, as I desired, in the art of war and in mathematics."

"In the studies of kings and soldiers," replied the boy, with a proud smile.

"I fear that you will prove not to have prosecuted those studies with a view to their use among soldiers," said Conde, with a sigh.

"Your prospects are very dark--yes, darker even than when you left the Temple. These two years have made your condition more perilous.

It was fortunate that you could spend them in solitude and secrecy, and be able to finish your education, and it would be a great blessing to you to be able to go on with your quiet studies for some years longer. But your enemies had sought you without rest; they were on your track, and had I left you there any longer, you would have been found some day stabbed or shot in the park. The steward informed me that all kinds of suspicious people had gathered in the neighborhood of the palace and the garden, and I conjecture that they were the emissaries of your enemies. On this I took you away from that place, and have brought you here for your greater safety.

Now allow me one question. Do you know who your enemies are?"

"I think I know them," replied Louis Charles, with a sad smile. "My enemies are the self-same men who brought my father and my mother to the scaffold, destroyed the throne, and in its place gave Prance a red cap. My enemies are the republicans, who now rule in this land, and whose great object must, of course, be to put me out of the way, for my life is their death! France will one day be tired of the red cap, and will restore the throne to him to whom it belongs, so soon as it is certain that he who is ent.i.tled to the crown, is living to wear it."

"And who do you suppose is justified in wearing the crown of France?"

"You ask as if you did not know that I am the only son and heir of the murdered King of France."

"The only son, but not the only heir. Your inheritance will be contested; and even if France should transform herself from a republic to a monarchy, every attempt possible will be made to drive you, the son of Louis XVI., from the throne, and put the crown on the head of another."

"Sir, if monarchy is uppermost again, the crown belongs to me. Who, in that case, would venture to contend with me for it?"

"Your enemies! Not those whom you have just named, but the other half of your enemies, of whose existence you have no suspicion, it seems-your enemies, the royalists."

"How so?" cried Louis Charles, in amazement. "Do you call the royalists my enemies?"

"Yes, and they are so, your powerful, defiant, and untiring enemies.

Do you not see that even here in this room I do not dare to give you the t.i.tle that is your due, for fear that the walls may have ears and increase the danger which threatens you? I will now name to you the greatest of your enemies--the Count de Provence."

"How! my uncle, the brother of my father, he my enemy?"

"He is your enemy, as he was the enemy of your mother. Believe me, young man, it is not the people who have made the revolution in France; it is the princes who have done it. The Count de Provence, the Count d'Artois, and the Duke d'Orleans--they are the chief revolutionists; they it is who have put fire to the throne; they it is who have sown the libels and lampoons broadcast over France, and made the name of Marie Antoinette odious. They did it out of hate, out of revenge, and out of ambition. Queen Marie Antoinette had won her husband over to the policy of Austria, and in this way had set herself in opposition to the Count de Provence, and the whole royal family. The count never forgave her for this, and he will never forgive you for being the son of your mother. The Count de Provence, as he now styles himself, is your sworn enemy, and will do all he can to bring you to ruin; he is ambitious, and his goal is, to be the King of France!"

"King of France? The Count de Provence, the brother of the king, wants to be his successor, when I, the son of the king, am alive and demand my inheritance ?"