CHAPTER XI.
THE QUEEN'S HAIRDRESSER.
On the morning of the twenty-first of June, the Count of Choiseul, whohad notified the King that he could wait no longer but must pick up hisdetachments along the road and fall back towards Bouille, who was alsoat the end of his patience, was told that a messenger from the Queen wasat last at his house in Paris.
It was Leonard the Queen's hairdresser. He was a favorite who enjoyedimmense credit at the court, but the duke could wish for a more weightyconfidant. But how could the Queen go into exile without the artist whoalone could build up her hair into one of those towers which caused herto be the envy of her sex and the stupefaction of the sterner one?
He was wearing a round hat pulled down to his eyes and an enormous"wraprascal," which he explained were property of his brother. TheQueen, in confiding to him her jewels, had ordered him to disguisehimself, and placed himself under the command of Choiseul. Not onlyverbal was this direction but in a note which the duke read and burned.
He ordered a cab to be made ready. When the servant reported it at thedoor, he said to the hairdresser:
"Come, my dear Leonard."
"But where?"
"A little way out of town where your art is required."
"But the diamonds?"
"Bring them along."
"But my brother will come home and see I have taken his best hat andovercoat--he will wonder what has become of me."
"Let him wonder! Did not the Queen bid you obey me as herself?"
"True, but Lady Ange will be expecting me to do up her hair. Nobody canmake anything of her scanty wisp but me, and----"
"Lady Ange must wait till her hair grows again."
Without paying farther heed to his lamentations, the lord forced himinto his cab and the horse started off at a fast gait. When they stoppedto renew the horse, he believed they were going to the world's end,though the duke confessed that their destination was the frontier.
At Montmirail they were to pass the balance of the night, and indeedat the inn beds were ready. Leonard began to feel better, in pride athaving been chosen for such an important errand.
At eleven they reached Sommevelle Bridge, where Choiseul got out to puton his uniform. His hussars had not yet arrived.
Leonard watched his preparations, particularly his freshening the pistolprimings, with sharp disquiet and heaved sighs which touched the hearer.
"It is time to let you into the truth, Leonard; you are true to yourmasters so you may as well know that they will be here in a couple ofhours. The King, the Queen, Lady Elizabeth, and the royal children. Youknow what dangers they were running, and dangers they are running still,but in two hours they will be saved. I am awaiting a hussar detachmentto be brought by Lieut. Goguelat. We will have dinner and take our timeover it."
But they heard the bugle and the hussars arrived. Goguelat brought sixblank royal warrants and the order from Bouille for Choiseul to beobeyed like himself by all military officers, whatever their rankingseniority.
The horses were hobbled, wine and eatables served out to the troopersand Choiseuil sat at table.
Not that the lieutenant's news was good. He had found ferment everywherealong the road. For more than a year rumors of the King's flight hadcirculated as well in the country as in town, and the stationing of thesoldiers had aroused talk. In one township the village church bells hadsounded the alarm.
This was calculated to dull even a Choiseuil's appetite. So he got upfrom the board in an hour, as the clock struck half after twelve, andleaving Lieut. Boudet to rule the troop of horse, he went out on a hillby the town entrance which commanded a good view. Every five minuteshe pulled out his watch, and, each time, Leonard groaned: "Oh, my poormasters, they will not come. Something bad has happened them."
His despair added to the duke's disquiet.
Three o'clock came without any tidings. It will be remembered that thiswas the hour when the King left Chalons.
While Choiseul was fretting, Fatality, unless Cagliostro had a hand init, was preparing an event which had much to do with influencing thedrama in course of performance.
A few days before, some peasants on the Duchess of Elboeuf's estate,near Sommevelle Bridge, had refused payment of some unredeemable taxes.They were threatened with the sheriff calling in the military; butthe Federation business had done its work and the inhabitants of theneighborhood vowed to make common cause with their brothers of the plowand came armed to resist the process-servers.
On seeing the hussars ride in, the clowns thought that they were herefor this purpose. So they sent runners to the surrounding villages andat three o'clock the alarm-bells were booming all over the country.
Choiseul went back on hearing this and found Lieut. Boudet uneasy.
Threats were heard against the hussars who were the best hated corps inthe army. The crowd bantered them and sang a song at them which was madefor the occasion:
"Than the hussars there is no worse, But we don't care for them a curse!"
Other persons, better informed or keener, began to whisper that thecavalry were here not to execute a writ on the Elboeuf tillers but towait for the King and Queen coming through.
Meanwhile four o'clock struck without any courier with intelligence.
The count put Leonard in his cab with the diamonds, and sent him onto Varennes, with order to say all he could to the commanders of eachmilitary troop on the road.
To calm the agitation he informed the mob that he and his company werethere not to assist the sheriff, but to guard a treasure which theWar Minister was sending along. This word "treasure," with its doublemeaning, confirmed suspicions on one side while allaying irritability onthe other. In a short time he saw that his men were so outnumbered andas hedged in that they could do nothing in such a mass, and would havebeen powerless to protect the Royal Family if they came then.
His orders were to "act so that the King's carriage should pass withouthindrance," while his presence was becoming an obstacle instead ofprotection.
Even had the King came up he had better be out of the way. Indeed hisdeparture would remove the block from the highway. But he needed anexcuse for the going.
The postmaster was there among half-a-dozen leading citizens whom a wordwould turn into active foes. He was close to Choiseul who inquired:
"My friend, did you hear anything about this military money-chest comingthrough?"
"This very morning," replied the man, "the stage-coach came along forMetz with a hundred thousand crowns; two gendarmes rode with it."
"You don't say so?" cried the nobleman, amazed at luck so befriendinghim.
"It is so true that I was one of the escort," struck in a gendarme.
"Then the Minister preferred that way of transmitting the cash," saidChoiseul, turning to his lieutenant, quietly, "and we were sent only asa blind to highwaymen. As we are no longer needed, I think we can beoff. Boot and saddle, my men!"
The troop marched out with trumpets sounding and the count at the headas the clock struck half-past five.
He branched off the road to avoid St. Menehould, where great hubbub wasreported to prevail.
At this very instant, Isidore Charny, spurring and whipping a horsewhich had taken two hours to cover four leagues, dashed up to theposthouse to get another; asking about a squad of hussars he was toldthat it had marched slowly out of the place a quarter of an hour before;leaving orders about the horses for the carriage, he rode off at fullspeed of the fresh steed, hoping to overtake the count.
Choiseul had taken the side road precisely as Isidore arrived at thepost, so that the viscount never met him.