Murad the Unlucky, and Other Tales Part 10

Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Madame de Fleury had means of placing and establis.h.i.+ng her pupils suitably and advantageously: of this, both they and their parents were aware, so that there was a constant and great motive operating continually to induce them to exert themselves, and to behave well. This reasonable hope of reaping the fruits of their education, and of being immediately rewarded for their good conduct; this perception of the connection between what they are taught and what they are to become, is necessary to make young people a.s.siduous; for want of attending to these principles many splendid establishments have failed to produce pupils answerable to the expectations which had been formed of them.

During seven years that Madame de Fleury persevered uniformly on the same plan, only one girl forfeited her protection--a girl of the name of Manon; she was Victoire's cousin, but totally unlike her in character.

When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a rich lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow for her children. She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon excelled in these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a prodigy of talent. The lady of the house gave herself great credit for having discerned, and having brought forward, such talents. Manon's moral character was in the meantime neglected. In this house, where there was a constant scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had frequent opportunities and temptations to be dishonest. For some time she was not detected; her caressing manners pleased her patroness, and servile compliance with the humours of the children of the family secured their goodwill. Encouraged by daily petty successes in the art of deceit, she became a complete hypocrite. With culpable negligence, her mistress trusted implicitly to appearances; and without examining whether she were really honest, she suffered her to have free access to unlocked drawers and valuable cabinets. Several articles of dress were missed from time to time; but Manon managed so artfully, that she averted from herself all suspicion. Emboldened by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted depredations of more importance. She purloined a valuable snuff-box--was detected in disposing of the broken parts of it at a p.a.w.nbroker's, and was immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement expressions of remorse she so far worked upon the weakness of the lady of the house as to prevail upon her to conceal the circ.u.mstance that occasioned her dismissal. Some months afterwards, Manon, pleading that she was thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to Madame de Fleury's school. It is wonderful that, people, who in other respects profess and practise integrity, can be so culpably weak as to give good characters to those who do not deserve them: this is really one of the worst species of forgery. Imposed upon by this treacherous recommendation, Madame de Fleury received into the midst of her innocent young pupils one who might have corrupted their minds secretly and irrecoverably. Fortunately a discovery was made in time of Manon's real disposition. A mere trifle led to the detection of her habits of falsehood. As she could not do any kind of needlework, she was employed in winding cotton; she was negligent, and did not in the course of the week wind the same number of b.a.l.l.s as her companions; and to conceal this, she pretended that she had delivered the proper number to the woman, who regularly called at the end of the week for the cotton. The woman persisted in her account, and the children in theirs; and Manon would not retract her a.s.sertion. The poor woman gave up the point; but she declared that she would the next time send her brother to make up the account, because he was sharper than herself, and would not be imposed upon so easily. The ensuing week the brother came, and he proved to be the very p.a.w.nbroker to whom Manon formerly offered the stolen box: he knew her immediately; it was in vain that she attempted to puzzle him, and to persuade him that she was not the same person. The man was clear and firm. Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard. Struck with horror, the children shrank back from Manon, and stood in silence.

Madame de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had recommended this girl, and inquired into the truth of the p.a.w.nbroker's a.s.sertions. The lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not deny the facts, and could apologise for herself only by saying that "she believed the girl to be partly reformed, and that she hoped, under Madame de Fleury's judicious care, she would become an amiable and respectable woman."

Madame de Fleury, however, wisely judged that the hazard of corrupting all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of correcting one, whose bad habits wore of such long standing. Manon was expelled from this happy little community--even Sister Frances, the most mild of human beings, could never think of the danger to which they had been exposed without expressing indignation against the lady who recommended such a girl as a fit companion for her blameless and beloved pupils.

CHAPTER VII

"Alas! regardless of their doom, The little victims play: No sense have they of ills to come, No care beyond to-day."--GRAY.

Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called the genius, of the people they have to govern. From youth to age, the taste for whatever is called _une fete_ pervades the whole French nation.

Madame de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this powerful motive, and connected it with the feelings of affection more than with the pa.s.sion for show. For instance, when any of her little people had done anything particularly worthy of reward, she gave them leave to invite their parents to a _fete_ prepared for them by their children, a.s.sisted by the kindness of Sister Frances.

One day--it was a holiday obtained by Victoire's good conduct--all the children prepared in their garden a little feast for their parents.

Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand, the happy fathers and mothers were waited upon by their children, and each in their turn heard with delight from the benevolent nun some instance of their daughter's improvement. Full of hope for the future and of grat.i.tude for the past, these honest people ate and talked, whilst in imagination they saw their children all prosperously and usefully settled in the world.

They blessed Madame de Fleury in her absence, and they wished ardently for her presence.

"The sun is setting, and Madame de Fleury is not yet come," cried Victoire; "she said she would be here this evening--What can be the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter, you may be sure," said Babet; "but that she has forgotten us--she has so many things to think of."

"Yes; but I know she never forgets us," said Victoire; "and she loves so much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must be something very extraordinary that detains her."

Babet laughed at Victoire's fears; but presently even she began to grow impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every moment that Madame de Fleury would arrive. At last she appeared, but with a dejected countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire's foreboding. When she saw this festive company, each child sitting between her parents, and all at her entrance looking up with affectionate pleasure, a faint smile enlivened her countenance for a moment; but she did not speak to them with her usual ease. Her mind seemed preoccupied by some disagreeable business of importance. It appeared that it had some connection with them; for as she walked round the table with Sister Frances, she said, with a voice and look of great tenderness, "Poor children! how happy they are at this moment!--Heaven only knows how soon they may be rendered, or may render themselves, miserable!"

None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs. About this time some of those discontents had broken out which preceded the terrible days of the Revolution. As yet, most of the common people, who were honestly employed in earning their own living, neither understood what was going on nor foresaw what was to happen. Many of their superiors were not in such happy ignorance--they had information of the intrigues that were forming; and the more penetration they possessed, the more they feared the consequences of events which they could not control.

At the house of a great man, with whom she had dined this day, Madame de Fleury had heard alarming news. Dreadful public disturbances, she saw, were inevitable; and whilst she trembled for the fate of all who were dear to her, these poor children had a share in her anxiety. She foresaw the temptations, the dangers, to which they must be exposed, whether they abandoned, or whether they abided by the principles their education had instilled. She feared that the labour of years would perhaps be lost in an instant, or that her innocent pupils would fall victims even to their virtues.

Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to govern themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use those preventive measures which reason affords. Without meddling with politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere, the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be exerted with perfect propriety, and with essential advantage to the public, in conciliating the inferior cla.s.ses of society, explaining to them their duties and their interests, and impressing upon the minds of the children of the poor sentiments of just subordination and honest independence. How happy would it have been for France if women of fortune and abilities had always exerted their talents and activity in this manner, instead of wasting their powers in futile declamations, or in the intrigues of party!

CHAPTER VIII

"E'en now the devastation is begun, And half the business of destruction done."

GOLDSMITH.

Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils. When the public disturbances began, these children were shocked by the horrible actions they saw. Instead of being seduced by bad example, they only showed anxiety to avoid companions of their own age who were dishonest, idle, or profligate. Victoire's cousin Manon ridiculed these absurd principles, as she called them, and endeavoured to persuade Victoire that she would be much happier if she followed the fas.h.i.+on.

"What! Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm, and still going to school with your little sister, though you are but a year younger than I am, I believe!--thirteen last birthday, were not you?--Mon Dieu! Why, how long do you intend to be a child? and why don't you leave that old nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?--I a.s.sure you, nuns, and school- mistresses, and schools, and all that sort of thing, are out of fas.h.i.+on now--we have abolished all that--we are to live a life of reason now--and all soon to be equal, I can tell you; let your Madame de Fleury look to that, and look to it yourself; for with all your wisdom, you might find yourself in the wrong box by sticking to her, and that side of the question.--Disengage yourself from her, I advise you, as soon as you can.--My dear Victoire! believe me, you may spell very well--but you know nothing of the rights of man, or the rights of woman."

"I do not pretend to know anything of the rights of men, or the rights of women," cried Victoire; "but this I know: that I never can or will be ungrateful to Madame de Fleury. Disengage myself from her! I am bound to her for ever, and I will abide by her till the last hour I breathe."

"Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a pa.s.sion--I only speak as a friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must go home, and get ready my dress for the ball to-night."

"Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?"

"As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire--only by being a good citizen. I and a party of us denounced a milliner and a confectioner in our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats; and of their goods forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share, such delicious _marangues_ and charming ribands!--Oh, Victoire, believe me, you will never get such things by going to school, or saying your prayers either.

You may look with as much scorn and indignation as you please, but I advise you to let it alone, for all that is out of fas.h.i.+on, and may, moreover, bring you into difficulties. Believe me, my dear Victoire, your head is not deep enough to understand these things--you know nothing of politics."

"But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon: politics can never alter that, you know."

"Never alter that! there you are quite mistaken," said Manon. "I cannot stay to convince you now--but this I can tell you: that I know secrets that you don't suspect."

"I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon," said Victoire, proudly.

"Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you expect,"

exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin's contempt that she could not refrain from boasting of her political knowledge. "I can tell you that your fine friends will in a few days not be able to protect you. The Abbe Traca.s.sier is in love with a dear friend of mine, and I know all the secrets of state from her--and I know what I know. Be as incredulous as you please, but you will see that, before this week is at end, Monsieur de Fleury will be guillotined, and then what will become of you? Good morning, my proud cousin."

Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe that Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately and communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Madame de Fleury. It agreed but too well with other circ.u.mstances, which alarmed this lady for the safety of her husband. A man of his abilities, integrity, and fortune, could not in such times hope to escape persecution. He was inclined to brave the danger; but his lady represented that it would not be courage, but rashness and folly, to sacrifice his life to the villainy of others, without probability or possibility of serving his country by his fall.

Monsieur de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and of Victoire's intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the very next day placards were put up in every street, offering a price for the head of Citoyen Fleury, _suspected of incivisme_.

Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these placards, the children read them as they returned in the evening from school; and little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a lamplighter's ladder, and tore down one of the papers. This imprudent action did not pa.s.s un.o.bserved: it was seen by one of the spies of Citoyen Traca.s.sier, a man who, under the pretence of zeal _pour la chose publique_, gratified without scruple his private resentments and his malevolent pa.s.sions. In his former character of an abbe, and a man of wit, he had gained admittance into Madame de Fleury's society. There he attempted to dictate both as a literary and religious despot. Accidentally discovering that Madame de Fleury had a little school for poor children, he thought proper to be offended, because he had not been consulted respecting the regulations, and because he was not permitted, as he said, to take the charge of this little flock. He made many objections to Sister Frances, as being an improper person to have the spiritual guidance of these young people; but as he was unable to give any just reason for his dislike, Madame de Fleury persisted in her choice, and was at last obliged to a.s.sert, in opposition to the domineering abbe, her right to judge and decide in her own affairs. With seeming politeness, he begged ten thousand pardons for his conscientious interference. No more was said upon the subject; and as he did not totally withdraw from her society till the revolution broke out, she did not suspect that she had anything to fear from his resentment. His manners and opinions changed suddenly with the times; the mask of religion was thrown off; and now, instead of objecting to Sister Frances as not being sufficiently strict and orthodox in her tenets, he boldly declared that a nun was not a fit person to be intrusted with the education of any of the young citizens--they should all be _des eleves de la patrie_. The abbe, become a member of the Committee of Public Safety, denounced Madame de Fleury, in the strange jargon of the day, as "_the fosterer of a swarm of bad citizens, who were nourished in the anticivic prejudices_ de l'ancien regime, _and fostered in the most detestable superst.i.tions, in defiance of the law_." He further observed, that he had good reason to believe that some of these little enemies to the const.i.tution had contrived and abetted Monsieur de Fleury's escape. Of their having rejoiced at it in a most indecent manner, he said he could produce irrefragable proof. The boy who saw Babet tear down the placard was produced and solemnly examined; and the thoughtless action of this poor little girl was construed into a state crime of the most horrible nature. In a declamatory tone, Traca.s.sier reminded his fellow-citizens, that in the ancient Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of which France ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was condemned to death for having made a plaything of a fragment of the gilding that had fallen from a public statue. The orator, for the reward of his eloquence, obtained an order to seize everything in Madame de Fleury's school-house, and to throw the nun into prison.

CHAPTER IX

"Who now will guard bewildered youth Safe from the fierce a.s.sault of hostile rage?-- Such war can Virtue wage?"

At the very moment when this order was going to be put in execution, Madame de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the children, listening to Babet, who was reading AEsop's fable of _The old man and his sons_.

Whilst her sister was reading, Victoire collected a number of twigs from the garden: she had just tied them together; and was going, by Sister Frances' desire, to let her companions try if they could break the bundle, when the attention to the moral of the fable was interrupted by the entrance of an old woman, whose countenance expressed the utmost terror and haste, to tell what she had not breath to utter. To Madame de Fleury she was a stranger; but the children immediately recollected her to be the chestnut woman to whom Babet had some years ago restored certain purloined chestnuts.

"Fly!" said she, the moment she had breath to speak: "Fly!--they are coming to seize everything here--carry off what you can--make haste--make haste!--I came through a by-street. A man was eating chestnuts at my stall, and I saw him show one that was with him the order from Citoyen Traca.s.sier. They'll be here in five minutes--quick!--quick!--You, in particular," continued she, turning to the nun, "else you'll be in prison."

At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister Frances, loosed their hold, exclaiming, "Go! go quick: but where? where?--we will go with her."

"No, no!" said Madame de Fleury, "she shall come home with me--my carriage is at the door."

"Ma belle dame!" cried the chestnut woman, "your house is the worst place she can go to--let her come to my cellar--the poorest cellar in these days is safer than the grandest palace."

So saying, she seized the nun with honest roughness, and hurried her away. As soon as she was gone, the children ran different ways, each to collect some favourite thing, which they thought they could not leave behind. Victoire alone stood motionless beside Madame de Fleury; her whole thoughts absorbed by the fear that her benefactress would be imprisoned. "Oh, madame! dear, dear Madame de Fleury, don't stay! don't stay!"

"Oh, children, never mind these things."

"Don't stay, madame, don't stay! I will stay with them--I will stay--do you go."

The children hearing these words, and recollecting Madame de Fleury's danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly obeyed her orders to go home to their parents. Victoire at last saw Madame de Fleury safe in her carriage. The coachman drove off at a great rate; and a few minutes afterwards Traca.s.sier's myrmidons arrived at the school- house. Great was their surprise when they found only the poor children's little books, unfinished samplers, and half-hemmed handkerchiefs. They ran into the garden to search for the nun. They were men of brutal habits, yet as they looked at everything round them, which bespoke peace, innocence, and childish happiness, they could not help thinking it was a pity to destroy what could do the nation no great harm after all. They were even glad that the nun had made her escape, since they were not answerable for it; and they returned to their employer satisfied for once without doing any mischief; but Citizen Traca.s.sier was of too vindictive a temper to suffer the objects of his hatred thus to elude his vengeance.

The next day Madame de Fleury was summoned before his tribunal and ordered to give up the nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree of the law had been obtained.