CHAPTER XVIII.

  ON THE BACK TRACK.

  Billet's countenance was dark; thoughtfulness lowered the brows overeyes deeply investigating; he reviewed all the prisoners and over thecircle he made two remarks.

  Charny's flight was patent; the window was being closed by the Colonelafter him; by bending forward Billet could see the count vaulting overthe garden wall. It followed that the agreement made between CaptainRomeuf and the Queen was for him to stand neutral.

  Behind Billet the outer room was filled as before with thescythe-bearers, musketeers and swordsmen whom his gesture had dismissed.

  These men seemed to obey this chief to whom they were attracted bymagnetic influence, because they divined in one a plebeian likethemselves patriotism or hatred equal to their own.

  His glance behind himself meeting theirs told him that he might rely onthem, even in case he had to proceed to violence.

  "Well, have they decided to go?" he asked Romeuf.

  The Queen threw on him one of those side looks which would have blastedhim if they had the power of lightning, which they resemble. Withoutreplying, she clutched the arm of her chair as though to clamp herselfto it.

  "The King begs a little more time as they have not slept in the nightand their Majesties are dying of fatigue?" said Romeuf.

  "Captain," returned Billet bluntly, "you know very well that it is notbecause their Majesties are fatigued that they sue for time, but becausethey hope in a few instants that Lord Bouille will arrive. But it willbe well for their Majesties not to dally," added Billet with emphasis,"for if they refuse to come out willingly, they will be lugged by theheels."

  "Scoundrel!" cried Damas, darting at the speaker with his sword up.

  Billet turned to face him, but with folded arms. He had in truth noneed to defend himself, for eight or ten men sprang into the room, andthe colonel was threatened by ten different weapons. The King saw thatthe least word or move would lead to all his supporters being shot orchopped to rags, and he said,

  "It is well: let the horses be put to. We are going."

  One of the Queen's women who travelled in a cab with her companion afterthe royal coach, screamed and swooned; this awakened the boy prince andhis sister, who wept.

  "Fie, sir, you cannot have a child that you are so cruel to a mother,"said the Queen to the farmer.

  "No, madam," replied he, repressing a start, and with a bitter smile, "Ihave no child now. There is to be no delay about the horses," he wenton, to the King, "the horses are harnessed, and the carriage at thedoor."

  Approaching the window the King saw that all was ready; in the immensedin he had not heard the horses brought up. Seeing him through thewindow the mob burst into a shout which was a threat. He turned pale.

  "What does your Majesty order?" inquired Choiseul of the Queen: "we hadrather die than witness this outrage."

  "Do you believe Lord Charny has got away?" she asked quickly in anundertone.

  "I can answer for that."

  "Then let us go; but in heaven's name, for your own sake as well asours, do not quit us."

  The King understood her fear.

  "I do not see any horses for Lord Choiseul and Damas," observed he.

  "They can follow as they like," said Billet; "my orders are to bring theKing and the Queen, and do not speak of them."

  "But I declare that I will not go without them having their horses,"broke forth the monarch with more firmness than was expected from him.

  "What do you say to that?" cried Billet to his men swarming into theroom. "Here is the King not going because these gentlemen have nohorses!"

  The mob roared with laughter.

  "I will find them," said Romeuf.

  "Do not quit their Majesties," interposed Choiseul: "your office givesyou some power over the people, and it depends on your honor that not ahair of their head should fall."

  Romeuf stopped, while Billet snapped his fingers.

  "I will attend to this," said he, leading the way; but stopping on thethreshold he said, frowning: "But you will fetch them along, eh, lads?"

  "Oh, never fear," replied the men, with a peal of laughter evidencingthat no pity was to be expected in case of resistance.

  At such a point of irritation, they would certainly have used roughnessand shot down any one resisting. Billet had no need to come upstairsagain. One of them by the window watched what happened in the street.

  "The horses are ready," he said: "out you get!"

  "Out, and be off!" said his companions with a tone admitting nodiscussion.

  The King took the lead. Romeuf was supposed to look particularly afterthe family, but the fact is he had need to take care of himself. Therumor had spread that he was not only carrying out the Assembly's orderswith mildness but by his inertia, if not actively, favored the flight ofone of the most devoted upholders of the Royals, who had only quittedthem in order to hurry up Marquis Bouille to their rescue.

  The result was that on the sill, while Billet's conduct was glorifiedby the gathering, Romeuf heard himself qualified as a traitor and anaristocrat.

  The party stepped into the carriage and the cab, with the two Lifeguardson the box.

  Valory had asked as a favor that the King would let him and his comradebe considered as domestics since they were no longer allowed to act ashis soldiers.

  "As things stand," he pleaded, "princes of the blood royal might beglad to be here; the more honor for simple gentlemen like us."

  "Have it so," said the sovereign tearfully, "you shall not quit meever."

  Thus they took in reality the place of couriers. Choiseul closed thedoor.

  "Gentlemen," said the King, "I positively give the order that you shalldrive me to Montmedy. Postillions, to Montmedy!"

  But one voice, that of the united populations of more than this town,replied:

  "To Paris!"

  In the lull, Billet pointed with his sword and said:

  "Postboys, take the Clermont Road."

  The vehicle whirled round to obey this order.

  "I take you all for witness that I am overpowered by violence," saidLouis XVI.

  Exhausted by the effort he had made, the unfortunate King, who had nevershown so much will before, fell back on the rear seat, between the Queenand his sister.

  In five minutes, after going a couple of hundred paces, a great clamorwas heard behind. As they were placed, the Queen was the passenger whocould first get her head out of the window.

  She drew in almost instantly, covering her eyes with both hands, andmuttering:

  "Oh, woe to us! they are murdering Choiseul."

  The King tried to rise, but the two ladies pulled him down; anyhow thecarriage turned the road and they could not see what passed at twentypaces that way.

  Choiseul and Damas had mounted their horses at Sausse's door butRomeuf's had been taken away from the post-house. He and two cavalrymenfollowed on foot, hoping to find a horse or two, either of the hussarsand dragoons who had been led off by the people, or abandoned by theirmasters. But they had not gone fifteen steps before Choiseul perceivedthat the three were in danger of being smothered, pressed down andscattered in the multitude. He stopped, letting the carriage go on, andjudging that Romeuf was of the most value to the Royal Family in thisstrait, called to his servant, James Brisack, who was mixed up with thepress.

  "Give my spare horse to Captain Romeuf."

  Scarce had he spoken the words than the exasperated crowd enveloped him,yelling:

  "This is the Count of Choiseul, one who wanted to take away the King!Down with the aristocrat--death to the traitor!"

  All know with what rapidity the effect follows the threat in popularcommotions.

  Torn from his saddle, Count Choiseul was hurled back and was swallowedup in that horrible gulf of the multitude, from which in that epoch ofdeadly passions one emerged only in fragments.

  But at the same time as he fell five persons rushed to his rescue. Thesewere Damas, Romeuf, Brisack and two others, the la
st having lost the ledhorse so that his hands were free for his master's service.

  Such a conflict arose as the Indians wage around the body of a fallenwarrior whom they do not wish scalped.

  Contrary to all probability, Choiseul was not hurt, or at leastslightly, despite the ugly weapons used against him. A soldier parriedwith his musket a scythe thrust aimed at him, and Brisack warded offanother with a stick he had snatched from a hand in the medley. Thisstick was cleft like a reed, but the cut was so turned as to wound onlythe count's horse.

  "This way the dragoons!" it came into Adjutant Foucq's head to halloa.

  Some soldiers rushed up at the call and cleared a space in their shameat the officer being murdered among them. Romeuf sprang into the openspace.

  "In the name of the National Assembly, and of General Lafayette, whosedeputy I am, lead these gentleman to the town-hall!" he vociferated.

  Both names of the Assembly and the general enjoyed full popularity atthis period and exerted their usual effect.

  "To the town-hall," roared the concourse.

  Willing hands made a united effort and Choiseul and his companionswere dragged towards the council rooms. It took well over an hour toget there; each minute had its threat and attempt to murder, and everyopening the protectors left was used to thrust with a pike or pitchforkor sabre.

  However, the municipal building was reached at last, where only onetowns officer remained, frightened extremely at the responsibilitydevolving on him. To relieve him of this charge, he ordered thatChoiseul, Damas and Floirac should be put in the cells and watched bythe National Guards.

  Romeuf thereupon declared that he would not quit Choiseul, who hadshielded him and so brought on himself what happened. So the townofficial ordered that he should be put in the cell along with him.

  Choiseul made a sign for his groom Brisack to get away and see to thehorses. Not much pulled about, they were in an inn, guarded by thevolunteers.

  Romeuf stayed till the Verdun National Guard came in, when he entrustedthe prisoners to them, and went his way with the officers' pledge thatthey would keep them well.

  Isidore Charny's remains were dragged into a weaver's house, where piousbut alien hands prepared them for the grave--less fortunate he thanhis brother Valence, who, at least, was mourned over by his brotherand Billet, and Gilbert. But at that time, Billet was a devoted andrespectful friend. We know how these feelings changed into hate: asimplacable as the better sentiments had been deep.