CHAPTER XV.
THE MYSTERIES OF THE PEOPLE.
While the Lebrenn family patiently awaited the outcome of John's visitto advocate Desmarais, the blind old father, restored once more to hishumble hearth, was eager, if not to see--that faculty had long beensnatched from him--at least to touch again his beloved family relics,carefully locked, along with their accompanying legends, in the walnutcabinet. The Prince of Gerolstein was smitten with lively emotion asVictoria deposited on the table, together with the parchments, or thepapers yellowed with age, those objects so precious to the family byreason of the memories interwoven with them.
"Oh! Franz," said Victoria to the Prince with emotion, after havingcontemplated at length the sacred relics transmitted in her family fromgeneration to generation for eighteen hundred years and more, "whattouching souvenirs! What woes, what miseries, what iniquities, what actsof oppression, what tortures, are recalled to our memory by theseinanimate objects, witnesses of the age-long martyrdom of our plebeianfamily. Malediction on our oppressors--Kings, men of the Church, men ofthe sword!"
"Alas, our sad history is that of all enslaved people, oppressed fromage to age since the Frankish conquest," replied Franz of Gerolstein."If one should dare to doubt the right of this decisive and holyRevolution which the taking of the Bastille this day ushers into being,would not that right be proven by these legends inscribed in the tearsand blood of our fathers? What a heritage past generations hand down tothe present!"
"Perhaps the moment has come to act on the view expressed by ourancestor Christian the printer," observed Monsieur Lebrenn. "He was ofthe opinion that sooner or later it would be of value to publish ourlegends, as a work of historic instruction for our brothers of thepeople, kept till now in the densest ignorance concerning their own truehistory."
"Nothing, in truth, could be more opportune. Aye, these tales, publishednow under the title of the MYSTERIES OF THE PEOPLE, would have apowerful influence on the spirit of the masses."
"The Society of Jesus is in our days still as active as of old," addedVictoria, thinking of her encounter with Abbot Morlet the previousevening. "Facile in all disguises, the adepts of that body will withoutdoubt, as in the days of the League, take on the popular mask, in orderto drive the people to excesses and smother their cause under theresults of their own misguided exasperation. The recommendation ofLoyola, relative to our legends, has most certainly been preserved inthe archives of the Society, where the name of our family and those ofso many others are inscribed on their Index. We must expect, sooner orlater, some attempt on the part of these Jesuits to seize our records."
"Good father," assented Franz, "I share Victoria's uneasiness. Here iswhat I would suggest: I know a retreat almost inaccessible to theJesuits. Let us thither transport the manuscripts; there they will be inperfect safety. An energetic, intelligent, and discreet editor, for whomI will vouch as for myself, shall to-morrow morning begin the copying ofthe legends; and soon we shall be on the way to publish our Mysteries ofthe People."
Further discussion of Franz's plan was interrupted by the return of JohnLebrenn. As soon as he entered the room, Victoria divined, by theexpression he wore, the ill success of his mission.
"Alas! Monsieur Desmarais has refused you the hand of his daughter?"
"It is true," replied John. "Charlotte made a solemn declaration, beforeher assembled family, that she would never have another husband but me.That is the sole favorable result of my errand."
"Son, listen, what noise is that!" suddenly exclaimed Madam Lebrenn,turning her head toward the stairway. "There seems to be a gathering inour yard."
With a crash the chamber door was flung open, and their neighbor Jerome,who lodged on the same story, entered, pale, fearsome, and crying in avoice of alarm:
"You are lost--they're coming up--there they are--they want to killyou!"
Then arose from the staircase the noise of tumultuous steps, mingledwith cries of,
"Long live the Nation!"
"Death to the traitors!"
"To the lamp-post with the aristocrats!"
"Death to the nobles and those who support them!"
John Lebrenn, after sharing for a moment the surprise of his family,cried out as he ran towards the door, "What do these men want?"
"It is a band of mad-men," answered Jerome, gasping. "They pretend thatthere is a noblewoman here--some Marchioness or other whom they want tohang to the lamp-post. Flee! Do not attempt resistance!"
At Jerome's words a light dawned upon Victoria. The Jesuit at Neroweg'sbanquet had recognized her in the column of the victors of the Bastille!It was he who had pointed her out to the swords of the assassins as aMarchioness!
"As to me," quoth the Prince of Gerolstein, drawing two double-barrelledpistols from his pockets, "I shall singe the heads of four of thesebrigands!"
"Franz, let us see, first of all, to the defense of mother and father,"cried Victoria; and drawing from its sheath the hunting knife which thePrince carried at his side, she gripped the weapon with a virile hand,and prepared to protect the aged man and his wife, who instinctivelyretreated into a corner of the room.
All this occurred with the rapidity of thought. John, who, in spite ofthe prayers and efforts of neighbor Jerome, had stepped out upon thelanding to see what manner of men were invading the house and mountingthe stairway, was immediately hurled back across the sill by Lehiron. Adozen scoundrels armed with pikes and sabers were ranged on the landingand the topmost stairs. Seizing his musket and clapping on the bayonet,John then drew near to Franz and Victoria in order to cover with hisbody his mother and father, who, mute and terrified, trembled at everylimb. Thus ranged, the two men and Victoria prepared to meet theirassailants.
Lehiron, who strode alone into the chamber, was taken aback by theresolute attitude of the three. Franz, with his double-barrelledpistols, covered the intruders; Victoria, fearless, her eyes flashing,held aloft her hunting-knife; and John Lebrenn stood ready to plunge hisbayonet into the bandits' breasts. Suddenly little Rodin appeared. Heslipped through Lehiron's followers, entered the room, approached thegiant, made him a sign to stoop over, and then, stretching on tiptoes,whispered in his ear:
"Don't forget the papers!"
"Hush, vermin, I know what's to be done here," retorted the Hercules;and taking two steps toward John, whom he threatened with his cutlass,he roared:
"Citizen Lebrenn, you play the people false! You are hiding here anaristocrat, Marchioness Aldini--there she stands--" and Lehirondesignated Victoria with his weapon. "She is one of the harpies of theAustrian party. She sat last night at the board of a royalistcouncil-feast. You are conspiring with her against the Nation. You willdeliver the jade to us, and also all the papers in your house, which areclaimed by justice. Quick! Or your lives shall pay the penalty."
"To the lamp-post with the noblewoman! Live the Nation! Death to thetraitors!" cried Lehiron's band of jackals, and brandishing their pikesand swords they poured into the room. But the giant, held in awe by thepistols trained upon him and not anxious to have recourse to forceexcept in the last extremity, waved back his brigands with a gesture andaddressed himself again to John:
"Deliver up the noblewoman and the papers, and your life will be spared.But be quick about it."
"Helas! My God! Have pity on us!" murmured Madam Lebrenn, overcome withterror and throwing her arms about her blind old husband.
"Out of here, you scoundrels!" was the answer of John Lebrenn. Lehironwaved his hand to his gang of bandits and cried:
"Forward! To the lamp-post with the traitors!"
As the valiant leader of the cut-throats gave the command, he himselfleaped to one side and ducked his head to escape the pistol-fire ofFranz of Gerolstein. But the latter no less quickly changed the aim ofhis weapon, and pulled the trigger. The giant flew back almost his fulllength, flung out his arms, dropped his cutlass, tumbled to his knees,and rolled over, face down, on the floor, almost mortally wounded.
All of a sudden, above the
tumult was heard a cry of pain from MadamLebrenn:
"Oh, the wicked child! He is biting me!"
John turned, and while his two companions fell upon their adversaries,ran to his mother and found her in a desperate struggle with littleRodin. The latter, faithful to the tuition of his dear god-father, andhoping to profit by the turmoil, was about to make off with the bundleof manuscripts. Madam Lebrenn seized hold of him to take them away, andthe little rat had bitten her savagely on the hand. To snatch from theJesuit's god-son the treasured legends, seize him by the slack of hispantaloons, and send him rolling ten paces away, was the work of aninstant for young Lebrenn. The terrible child, wriggling and slidinglike a snake between the legs of John's companions, gained the stairwayand escaped with his discomfited accomplices.
The attempted arrest of Victoria and theft of the legends added fuel tothe fears of the family on the machinations of the Jesuits. That veryday the Prince deposited in safe keeping the records and relics of thefamily of Lebrenn.
* * * * *
Two days after our interview, Charlotte Desmarais wrote to me, JohnLebrenn, a letter that was touching, and in all points worthy of her.She informed me of her departure for Lyons, whither her mother was toaccompany her.
From the month of July, 1789, up till December, 1792, nothing ofimportance occurred in our family save the death of our beloved parents.My father died on the 11th of August, 1789; my mother, ill for years,survived him but briefly; she expired in our arms on October 29th of thesame year.
Monsieur Desmarais continues to hold his seat at the extreme Left of theNational Assembly, near Robespierre. He defended Marat from thetribunal, and makes one of the republican group headed by Brissot,Camille Desmoulins, Condorcet and Bonneville. Formerly a member of theJacobin club, Desmarais later transferred his allegiance to theCordeliers. He seemed to fear losing his popularity, which he regards asthe safeguard of his property and perhaps of his life. Monsieur Hubert,differently from his brother-in-law, has the courage of his convictions;he declares frankly for the Moderates. The financier still commands thebattalion of the Daughters of St. Thomas, one of the most hostile tothe Revolution. Franz of Gerolstein was suddenly called to the side ofhis father, who had been stricken gravely ill. Our relics and legendsare still in the place of security where he deposited them.
My sister Victoria shares my dwelling and lives on the proceeds of hersempstress's trade. We have promised Franz to fall back on his aid incase of necessity. I notice with disquietude the character of Victoriagrowing somber apace; at times her revolutionary fervor becomes wild inits exaltation. In vain I attempt to calm her, in vain I appeal to herheart, to her good sense, in order to convince her that, apart fromcases of insurrection or legitimate defense, we must strike our enemiesonly with the sword of the law, unorganized popular justice being alwaysblind in its execution.
"And when the sword of the law, confided to the hands of our enemies,rusts in its sheath? When treason enwraps the great criminals fromjustice, and insures them impunity, what shall the sovereign people dothen?" Victoria asks me.
To which I reply: "The sovereign people, the source and dispenser of allpower, by election, should depose its faithless officers at theexpiration of their term, and, if they be traitors, send them beforetheir natural judges. That is the rational course to pursue."
"No," my sister makes answer. "All these formalities are too slow. Oncertain occasions the people should exterminate its enemies in the nameof public safety."
Alas, it was in the name of public safety that men, the most pure andheroic of the Revolution, were one day to smite each other down, to theprofit of our eternal enemies.
Victoria did not soon again see the Count of Plouernel. Seized, in spiteof his braggadocio, with panic and alarm at the taking of the Bastille,he was among the first to emigrate at the heels of the Count of Artoisand the Princes of Conti and Conde. We did not set eyes on him againtill 1793.
Lehiron survived his wound. Doubtless at the instigation of AbbotMorlet, he later made a similar descent, I know not for what purpose,upon an old and isolated house in St. Francois Street, in the Swamp,occupied by an aged Jew and his wife. The Voyants had for a long timeheld their meetings in this building. Lehiron's attempt upon it waswithout result, according to what the Jew later told my sister, without,however, going at all into the causes that led to it.
The interval between the months of July, 1789, and December, 1792, aperiod so uneventful in our private life, was nevertheless fertile ingreat occurrences in the life of the Nation, occurrences the importanceof which was immense. I have preserved these to our family legends bymeans of extracts from a journal kept by me, in which, of an evening, Iwould inscribe the striking events observed by Victoria and myselfduring the day. To these notes I have often added salient passages fromthe Revolutionary journals of the time--a heroic epoch which will leaveits mark on the annals of the people!
PART II.
THE BOURGEOIS REVOLUTION.