CHAPTER VIII.
THE HUSBAND'S PROMISE.
The Queen sank upon a divan when she had arrived within her ownapartments, making a sign for Charny to close the door.
Scarcely was she seated before her heart overflowed and she burst intosobs. They were so sincere and forcible that they went down into thedepths of Charny's heart and sought for his former love. Such passionsburning in a man never completely die out unless from one of thosedreadful shocks which turn love to loathing.
He was in that strange dilemma which they will appreciate who have stoodin the same: between old love and the new.
He loved his wife with all the pity in his bosom and he pitied the Queenwith all his soul. He could not help feeling regret and giving words ofconsolation.
But he saw that reproach pierced through this sobbing; thatrecrimination came to light among the tears, reminding him of theexactions of this love, the absolute will, the regal despotism mingledwith the expressions of tenderness and proofs of passion; he steeledhimself against the exactions and took up arms against the despotism,entering into the strife against the will. He compared all this withAndrea's sweet, unalterable countenance, and preferred the statue,though he believed it to be of snow, to this glowing bronze, heated fromthe furnace, ever ready to dart from its eyes the lightnings of love,pride and jealousy.
This time the Queen wept without saying anything.
It was more than eight months since she had seen him. Before this, fortwo or three years she had believed that they could not separate withouttheir hearts breaking. Her only consolation had been that he was workingfor her sake in doing some deed for the King.
But it was a weak consolation.
She wept for the sake of relief, for her pent-up tears would have chokedher if she had not poured them forth. Was it joy or pain that held hersilent? both, perhaps, for many mighty emotions dissolve in tears.
With more love even than respect, Charny went up to her, took one of herhands away from her face and said as he applied his lips to it:
"Madam, I am proud and happy to say that not an hour has been withouttoil for you since I went hence."
"Oh, Charny," retorted the Queen, "there was a time when you might havebeen less busy on my account but you would have thought the more of me."
"I was charged by the King with grave responsibility, which imposed themore strict silence until the business was accomplished. It is doneat present. I can see and speak with you now, but I might not write aletter up to this period."
"It is a fine sample of loyalty, and I regret that it should beperformed at the expense of another sentiment, George," she said withmelancholy.
She pressed his hand tenderly, while eyeing him with that gaze forwhich once he would have flung away the life still at her service.
She noticed that he was not the courier dusty and bloody from spurring,but the courtier spic and span according to the rules of the RoyalHousehold. This complete attire visibly fretted the woman while it musthave satisfied the exacting Queen.
"Where do you come from?" she asked.
"Montmedy, in postchaise."
"Half across the kingdom, and you are spruce, brushed and dandifiedlike one of Lafayette's aid-de-camps. Were the news you brought sounimportant as to let you dally at the toilet table?"
"Very important; but I feared that if I stepped out of the mudbe-splattered postchaise in the palace yard, all disordered with travel,suspicion would be roused; the King had told me that you are closelyguarded, and that made me congratulate myself on walking in, clad in mynaval uniform like an officer coming to present his devoirs after a weekor two on leave."
She squeezed his hand convulsively, having a question to put the harderto frame as it appeared so far from important.
"I forgot that you had a Paris house. Of course you dropped in atCoq-Heron Street, where the countess is keeping house?"
Charny was ready to spring away like a high-mettled steed spurred inthe raw; but there was so much hesitation and pain in her words that hehad to pity one so haughty for suffering so much and for showing herfeelings though she was so strong-minded.
"Madam," he replied, with profound sadness not wholly caused by herpain, "I thought I had stated before my departure that the Countess ofCharny's residence is not mine. I stopped at my brother Isidore's tochange my dress."
The Queen uttered a cry of joy and slid down on her knees, carrying hishand to her lips, but he caught her up in both arms and exclaimed:
"Oh, what are you doing?"
"I thank you--ask me not for what! do you ask me for what? for the onlymoment of thorough delight I have felt since your departure. God knowsthis is folly, and foolish jealousy, but it is most worthy of pity. Youwere jealous once, though you forget it. Oh, you men are happy whenyou are jealous, because you can fight with your rivals and kill or beslain; but we women can only weep, though we perceive that our tears areuseless if not dangerous. For our tears part us from our beloved ratherthan wash us nearer; our grief is the vertigo of love--it hurls ustowards the abyss which we see without avail. I thank you again, George;you see that I am happy anew and weep no more."
She tried to laugh; but in her repining she had forgotten how to bemerry, and the tone was so sad and doleful that the count shuddered.
"Be blessed, O God!" she said, "for he would not have the power to loveme from the day when he pities me."
Charny felt he was dragged down a steep where in time he would be in theimpossibility of checking himself. He made an effort to stop, like thoseskaters who lean back on their heels at the risk of breaking through theice.
"Will you not permit me to offer the fruit of my long absence byexplaining what I have been happy to do for your sake?" he said.
"Oh, Charny, I like better to have things as I said just now; but youare right: the woman must not too long forget she is a Queen. Speak,ambassador, the woman has obtained all she had a right to claim--theQueen listens."
The count related how he had surveyed the way for the flight of theRoyal Family, and how all was ready. She listened with deep attentionand fervent gratitude. It seemed to her that mere devotion could notgo so far; that it must be ardent and unquiet love to foresee suchobstacles and invent the means to cope with and overcome them.
"So you are quite happy to save me?" she asked at the end, regarding himwith supreme affection.
"Oh, can you ask me that? it is the dream of my ambition, and it will bethe glory of my life if I attain it."
"I would rather it were simply the reward of your love," replied MarieAntoinette with melancholy. "But let that pass! you ardently desire thisgreat deed of the rescue of the Royal Family to be performed by you?"
"I await but your consent to set aside my life to it."
"I understand it, my dear one," said the sovereign: "your dedicationought to be free from all alien sentiment, and material affection. It isimpossible that my husband and our children should be saved by a handwhich would not dare to be stretched out towards them if they slipped onthe road we are to travel in company. I place their lives and mine inyour custody, as to a brother: but you will feel some pity for me?"
"Pity?"
"You cannot wish that in one of those crises when one needs all courage,patience and coolness, a mad idea of mine--for in the night one may seethe specters which would not frighten in the day--you cannot wish thatall should fail because I had not your promise that you loved me?"
"Lady," interrupted Charny, "above all I aim at your Majesty's bliss:that of France; the glory of achieving the task I have begun; and Iconfess that I am sorry the sacrifice I make is so slight; but I swearnot to see the Countess of Charny without your Majesty's permission."
Coldly and respectfully saluting the monarch's consort, he retiredwithout her trying to detain him, so chilled was she by his tone.
Hardly had he shut the door after him, than she wrung her hands andruefully moaned:
"Oh, rather that he made the vow not to see me, but loved me as he lovesher!"
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