The huge sansculotte, to his own surprise, was eating the bushyhorse-hair pigtail of Picard's bobbing queue! The ex-valet made aquick duck. His murderous-looking neighbor, with a full swing,walloped the countenance of the sansculotte beyond....
On this day of our characters' trial, the side benches and balconiesof the great hall quickly fill with the howling, leering mobs--thefierce and grotesque chorus of the grim tragedy.
Interspersed with the rabid Jacobins are other--less partisan--spectators,and among the hurrying throngs a close observer might have noticed theluckless Pierre Frochard and the blind girl Louise entering. They foundseats on a front bench.
"The judges are taking their places now," said Pierre. "You will soonhear the trials. Over on their right sits Robespierre, the dictator ofFrance!"
The judges, so-called, are five villainous individuals, wearingdirty-looking plumed hats, black jerkins and breeches, and tall jackboots. The shaggy-haired Jacques-Forget-Not presides.
A frowsy public prosecutor--red, white and blue cockade affixed to histousled hat plume--calls the names of the accused and presents thecharge. From the background, the stripe-panted soldiery are bringingthe victims up.
"They are arraigning them in batches," says Pierre. "The judges makequick work!" Louise shudders, lays hold of his arm.
There is something horrible in the sound of the advancing footsteps; theharsh accusations and weak replies, oft drowned by the sansculottes'roar; the sentences of doom, and the final scuffling of feet as thesoldiers seize their prey and bear it off.
Innocence and guilt often go up together.
Unfortunate women of the street are arraigned next high-bredaristocrats, or moderates whose only crime has been to denounce suchhorrors. A gallant gentleman pleads vainly to the judges who are alsothe jury: "We have had no trial!" The mob howls "Guillotine!" and"Guillotine!" is Jacques-Forget-Not's brief sentence !
A young Corsican lieutenant of artillery looks on meditatively. Hissilent thought is sensed by a bystander who remarks: "I suppose,Napoleon, you think you could manage things better!" The man grins.But Napoleon Bonaparte--he who snuffed out Revolution later by whiffof grapeshot--nods gravely yes.
As the prisoners from the faubourg are brought in, Henriette sees theloved and long lost face of her dreams among the front row of thesansculottes.
Stupefied, unbelieving, she looks again and again. Yes, it isshe--none other! Her own peril and that of Maurice are unthought of.Protective love of the blind one tides back in resistless strength.
She is trying now to escape from the guards, run to her sister--evento pantomime her love, gesticulate it with funny little motions andconfidential fingers on lips--forgetting that the other cannot see!And then her wild, excited cry rings through the great hall:
"LOUISE! LOUISE!"
Louise jumps to her feet, groping wildly towards the cry. Her blindfeatures are strained in agonized expectancy. Pierre has located thefrenzied Henriette. He guides the groping blind girl from the benchesto her sister.
In this council chamber of hates and cruelty, rulers and attendantsalike are steeled against shrieks of suffering or the outbursts of theaccused. A fence of locked bayonets stops each advancing sister.Paying rather less heed to the incident than if it were a request fora drink of water, the soldiery push back Pierre and Louise to theseats and make ready to obey the prosecutor's call.
"Citizen de Vaudrey and Henriette Girard to the bar!"
The Chevalier faces the dread quintet. The prosecutor reads thecharge, demands the death penalty on the returned aristocrat. PoorHenriette is divided between her frenzied wish to clasp her sister andher horror about Maurice.
The young man defends himself.
"An emigre, yes!" he acknowledges, "but not an enemy of the people."
Many a spectator of the scenes--even the wicked judges--could bearwitness (did not prejudice blind!) to his kindness for the afflictedand fallen. Is there an undercurrent of sympathy for him even amongsthard sansculottes?
But this is Jacques-Forget-Not's great moment.
Vengeance's hour has struck.
The wickedness of the old de Vaudreys is to be expiated at last!
CHAPTER XXIV
VENGEANCE COME TO JUDGMENT
"I myself accuse you, Citizen de Vaudrey!" says the Judge, rising andpointing to the culprit.
"I accuse your family and all aristocrats of oppression and murderthrough countless generations!"
A yell of approval--the savage howl of the Mob Beast--resounds fromthe rabble whose passion is played upon. It is followed by the generalroar:
"Guillotine! _Guillotine!_ GUILLOTINE!"
With a smile Forget-Not records the death sentence given by hiscompliant fellow judges, in his book. Chevalier de Vaudrey is hustledback to the rear of the hall.
Poor trembling Henriette is next. The horrors of Maurice's condemnationand the thought of her little lost sister nearby, rack her with astinging pain in which is commingled little thought of self.
"You sheltered this aristocrat?" questions the Judge.
"Of course--I--love him!"
"The penalty for sheltering an emigre is death!" replies Forget-Notshrilly, again playing to the Jacobins.
But Henriette is thinking of the suffering Louise. She strives todirect the Judge's attention to the blind girl.
"She might hear!" says Henriette softly. "Please--not so loud!"
The Judge turns the pages of his book in studied indifference.
"Please--my sister--we have just met after a long time--she--she isblind!" The little voice breaks off in sobs.
The idea strikes her that, if they can only see the helpless creature,they will have pity. She calls:
"Louise, stand up--they want to see you!"
The cripple Pierre aids Louise to her feet. She stands there alone, apicture of abject misery.
"You see!" cries Henriette. "Blind--no one to care for her!"
* * * * *
The dandified dictator of France fixes fishy eyes on the little personin the dock. One affected hand has raised a double lorgnette throughwhich he peers at her. He muses, strokes a long nostril with hisforefinger, recollects something which causes him to curl his lip:
Henriette's door slam on the obscure Maximilian Robespierre finds itsre-echo to day at the gates of Death. Ah, yes, he has placed the girlof the Faubourg lodging now!
"You were an inmate of the prison for fallen women?" he asks coldly.
The clear, unashamed blue eyes would have told innocence if the wordshad not.
"Yes, Monsieur, but I was not guilty."
Robespierre's delicate hand passes in the faintest movement across histhroat and toys with the neck ruffle underneath it.
His lips frame a dreadful word though he does not speak it. A nod toJacques-Forget-Not completes the by-play.
The servant imitates the master's gesture. This time, the drawing ofthe hand across the throat is more decisive.
Jacques speaks the word that his master did not vocalize. The otherjudges confirm it.
"GUILLOTINE!"
Henriette is borne shrieking out to the death chamber--"One hour withher--only one hour--then I will go with him!"
But she and the Vaudrey are already being taken out together by theattendants.
CHAPTER XXV
THE VOICE OF DANTON
We have explained that Danton took little part in the Government afterthe repelling of the foreign foe and the commencement of the Terror.He had no sympathy with the excesses of his former colleagues, but onthe other hand was subject to strange lassitudes or inhibitions thatoft paralyzed his spirit except at the supreme hour.
Saving France had been his real job.
Among these petty and mean minds seeking power or pelf or therepayment of some ancient grudge, Danton had nothing to do! He lovedhis frontier fighters--men who, the same as himself, dared all forFrance.
They were somewhat like our cowboys of the Western plai
ns. Born to thesaddle; recruited for the northern cavalry; supremely successful inwhirlwind charges and harassing flank attacks that drove backBrunswick's legions, they were now quartered on well-deserved furloughwithin the city.
The old lion of Danton's nature woke again, his indomitable spiritreasserted itself whenever he went to their yard and roused them byhis patriotic eloquence.
Alas! within the tribunal and on the execution place at the other sideof the city, was that going on which shamed patriotism and mockedliberty.
"La Guillotine"--that fiendish beheading instrument that a deputynamed Doctor Guillotin had devised--was become Robespierre's privateengine to tyrannize France.
It stood in a great suburban place, on a scaffolding led up to by aflight of steps: a tall massive upright with high cross piece--uglierthan the gallows. A brightly gleaming, triangular knife, about thesize of a ploughshare, worked up and down in the channels.
The knife was first raised to the top of the upright, and held thereby a lever. The master of the ceremonial raised right hand in token tothe executioners to be ready.
As he dropped his hand in a down-sweeping gesture, one of thesevillains pulled the rope which released the lever. Down fell the heavyknife across the neck opening of a body board to which the victim wasstrapped. Below the contraption was a huge basket.
A cordon of soldiery guarded the place, keeping back the crowds. Thebrawny executioners--naked to the waist, like butchers in astockyard--daily performed their office.
On this day of Henriette and Maurice's sentence, they were giving it apreliminary trial. "The trigger's been slipping--not working well,"the head fellow explained to the master of ceremonies. Back and forththe terrible guillotine knife hissed and whistled until theypronounced its action perfect....
Danton and three of his friends had an errand at the Government thatday that took them past the death chamber. A little frightened faceamongst the condemned drew his notice.
"Killing aristocrats, yes!" he was thinking. "But these poor huddledfolk are not the public foe. Would I might summon the legions to putan end to slaughter--but that Robespierre has inflamed all France withthe lust of blood!"
He was startled from the reflection by the woe-begone, distrait littlething who seemed hypnotized by terror. The tall man bent down andpeered at the girl.
Like the other condemned, her hands had just been pinioned behind her.She stood forlorn and helpless.
Horror froze him.... The Child who had saved his life from thespadassins--the dear little face the memory of which he had alwaystreasured! He asked her a mute question, she mutely nodded.
So black-hearted murder was to snuff her out too--yes, and that youngman nearby, Maurice de Vaudrey whom he knew.
Not if Danton could protect and save!
Stern was his voice as he said to the jailer:
"There is some mistake. Keep her--and her friend--until I return!" Hewas on his heel and striding to the courtroom.
A follower sensed his purpose. He laid hand on Danton's shoulder,saying: "No, Danton--you endanger your own life!"
"What if I do? She must be saved."
As we see him pass into the Tribunal, let us stop for a moment andwatch the procedure in the death chamber. Outside, the tumbrils ofdeath clatter up to receive their load. A functionary calls the namesof the condemned whilst a court officer identifies them. Each in turnis bundled off to the carts. The men hesitate over Henriette andMaurice.
"The ex-Minister of Justice," said one, "asked that this case bedelayed."
"Her name is here," said the master functionary, a creature of theDictator. "She goes--"
"We might as well take the other too," said the court officer,pointing to de Vaudrey....
* * * * *
Superbly the Lion of the Revolution faced the judges and the mob, anddemanded a hearing. Robespierre uplifted eyebrows and half-smiled,vulpinely. His rapid exchange of looks with the Court seemed to say:"Well, we have got to listen to this crazy man, but be on guard!"
The president, Jacques-Forget-Not, took the cue and acceded toDanton's request.
"A great injustice has been done," cried Danton, "to the innocent andhelpless. I ask the lives of Henriette Girard and Citizen deVaudrey!"
The judges did not need to answer.
A savage cry of "No! No!" swelled from the infuriated "Mountain."
The sansculottes half rose from their benches, shaking minatory fists,yelling, gesticulating. Faces were contorted in fury. The mob--thesame that had once acclaimed Danton in chair of state--was not to bebalked of blood.
The orator continued: "These sufferers are friends of you who demandtheir death. The girl once saved _me_--the organizer of yourvictory--from spadassins. The boy was ever known as the people'sbenefactor--I have seen him buy loaves to keep you from starving! Nowthrough trumped-up charges they are to be hurried away to death--"
"You question the justice of the people's Tribunal?" interrupted JudgeForget-Not shrilly, with obvious play at the mob.
"Hell's bells!" replied the indignant Thunderer. "I established thisTribunal. Did not I as Minister of Justice set it in being, and shallI not speak when crimes are done in its name!"
... In the death chamber Henriette and Maurice were trying to kisseach other good-by. The guards had separated them. Vaudrey was goingin one death cart, Henriette in another....
He had silenced the querulous Forget-Not, was waking the echoes withthe same thunders that had nerved France to resist the foe. "I ask fortheir lives not only, but for MERCY and JUSTICE to wipe out thetyranny and cruelty that are befouling all of us. I ask for aregenerated nation, purged of these vile offences."
Robespierre was sinisterly serious now.
The group of judges sat amazed.
"Give Danton a hearing!" was the murmur among the sansculottes, halfawed by his old witchery.
The impassioned orator swung upon them, his old supporters.
"My heart--my brain--my soul--my very life! Do they mean anything toyou--to France?"
"YES! YES!" shouted the answering mob, caught by the personal appeal.
Alarmed at the swiftly changing tide, the Chief Judge sought theDictator's eye. The orator's eyes were far away, his frame wasconvulsed by emotion as he cried: "My very life--everything--I owe toone of these victims!" The mob identified its cause with Danton's,submerged their personalities with his own!
DANTON AND MEN RIDE TO THE RESCUE PAST THE CORRUPT ANDDEGENERATE ORGY OF THE "FEAST OF REASON."]
Robespierre answered Forget-Not's look. He indicated the speaker by aslight motion of the head, then drew his right hand across the throat,played with the lace ruffles--and smiled! Forget-Not understood. Notthen--but later, only a little later--would come the time to snuff outthis disturber!
Danton turned from the mob, swinging the peroration to the judges inthe one impassioned cry of "JUSTICE!" Lion-like he glanced from thosemean, denying souls to the rabble, and held out his hands.
Like an avalanche, the "Mountain" swept down from benches to hall andon, on toward the judges. Murder was in their eyes. A word from theThunderer would have sealed Forget-Not's fate.
"His wish! Give Danton his wish!" they roared.
Like a monkey the man Forget-Not leaped and cowered behind his bar,imploring Robespierre for a sign. The Dictator nodded to yield. Butagain was there not the very slightest motion of hand past neck, theeyes side-glancing at the Thunderer?
Danton stilled the tempest as Chief Judge Forget-Not wrote thereprieve and the other affrighted Judges confirmed it.
... Outside, the tumbrils were already on their way to theguillotine. Henrietta and de Vaudrey were approaching the gates ofdeath....
CHAPTER XXVI
REPRIEVE OR AGONY
The man Forget-not, directly the paper was signed, rushed past thespeaker and out of the hall into the lobbies. He was followedpresently by the Court's messenger. There was here some trickery orother that Danton sensed.
&nbs
p; He could not stop the Chief Judge leaving, but he pounced on themessenger and yanked the reprieve out of his hand. "I will deliverit!" said Danton. The people applauded the act. Everyone knew that hedared greatly.
Quick as he had been, Jacques-Forget-Not had already given hisorders.
"Stop Danton if you can!" had been Jacques' word to the outer guard.To his inspectors of defences, he had said: "The barriers to theguillotine--close them!" He ran forth to see that the orders wereobeyed. None of Robespierre's party wanted to see Danton achieve hiserrand of mercy--least of all, the vengeful Jacques-Forget-Not!....
The pock-marked Thunderer wasn't stopped beyond the door. His giantstrength threw off the minions who would have blocked him. He hastenedto the yard where his beloved troopers were quartered.
* * * * *
Henriette and Maurice's route lay past an obscene and sacrilegiousrite.
Mocking at religion, the more fanatical had thrown off every vestigeof decency and indulged in Bacchanalian worship of a so-called"Goddess of Reason." This was a lewd female from the Paris half-world,flower-chapleted, flimsily draped, prancing in drunken frenzy atop atable surrounded by her "worshippers."
The Feast of Reason included hundreds of revelers grouped around theopen-air tables for the "supper of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity,"and between long lines of these they were obliged to pass.
"Drink a toast to the Goddess!" cried the revelers, offering thewinecup to the victims.