A Wife's Duty Part 19

[Footnote 15: Her handsome American Englishman.]

Was Pendarves acquainted with this unfortunate man? We could not tell; but certain it was, that the awful lips which mentioned the one had named the other.

In another month Danton and Camille des Moulins were no more! and fell with many others who were obnoxious to the tyrant; and again I wished that I had not seen or heard them.

As I never went out till it was quite dark, the great seclusion in which I lived injured my health. Since the death of Hebert, indeed, I was not so cautious, as I could wear a hat; but while he lived, he had decreed that every head-dress was _aristocrat_, except the peasants' cap.

Juan went therefore to find a lodging for me for a week or two near or in the Champs Elysees, and in so retired a spot, that with my green spectacles, and otherwise a little disguised, my guardian declared he allowed me to walk even in a morning.

Alice accompanied me, and Juan promised to come and tell us every evening what was going forward. During my abode in this pretty place Juan arrived one evening a good deal agitated, and I found that he had seen Pendarves.

"Did he see you?"

"Oh! no: he saw no one but--"

"His companion, I suppose?--Was Madame Beauvais with him?"

"She was, and her little dog; and the beast would not come at her call; and then she was uneasy, and so he took up the nasty animal and carried it in his arm. I could have wrung its neck."

"It is a nice clean animal," replied I, trying to speak cheerfully. "But how did he look, Juan?"

"Well, madam--_too_ well!" said the faithful creature, turning away in agony to think he could look well under his circ.u.mstances.

"You see he is not yet arrested," said I; "and for that I am thankful."

One night, the night before we were to return to our house, Juan disappointed us and did not come at all. You, who have always lived in dear and quiet Britain, cannot form to yourself an idea of the agitation into which this little circ.u.mstance threw us. We could not fancy he was ill: that was too common-place and too natural a circ.u.mstance to occur to the heated imaginations of women accustomed as we were to tales of terror and blood; and we thought no less than that he had been suspected, denounced, arrested, and would be _juge a mort_. What a night of misery was ours! Early in the morning, however, Alice set off for Paris, conjuring me on her knees not to come with her, as Juan thought it unsafe for me to walk in the street unprotected; and promising to come back directly if any thing alarming had happened. I therefore allowed her to depart without me; but though her not returning was a proof that all was right, according to our agreement, I was half distracted when hour succeeded to hour and she did not return; till, at last, unable to bear my suspense any longer, I set off for Paris, and reached the Place de la Revolution (as it was then called) just as an immense crowd was thronging from all parts and around me, to a spot already filled with an incalculable number of persons. In one instant I recollected that what I beheld in the midst must be the guillotine, and I tried to turn back, but it was impossible. I was hurried forward with the exulting mult.i.tude; and just as the horrible snap of the murderous engine met my now tingling ears, I heard from the shouts of the mob, that the victim was the Princess Elizabeth!!!--Self-preservation instinctively prompted me to catch hold of the person next me to save myself from falling, which would have been instant death; and the aid I sought was yielded to me: and while a noise of thunder was in my ears, and my eyes were utterly blinded with horror and agonizing emotion, a kind but unknown voice said in French, "Poor child! I see you are indeed a stranger here. We natives are used to these sights now;" and he sighed, as if use had not however entirely blunted his feelings.

"But why did you come to see such a sight?"

"Oh! I knew nothing of it, and was going home."

"Poor thing! Well; but shall I see you home--if you can walk?"

I now looked up, and saw that my kind friend was only a lowly citizen, and wore a Jacobin cap; and I was still shrinking from allowing of his further attendance, though I trembled in every limb, and felt sick unto death: when, as the crowd dispersed, I saw Juan and Alice coming towards me; in another moment I was in her arms, where I nearly fainted away.

"This is unfortunate," said the _citoyen_; "her illness may be observed upon, as it was a Bourbon who died, and she may be fancied no friend to the republic. What is best to be done?"

While he said this I recovered, and begged to go home directly; but I could not walk without the aid of my Jacobin friend; who insisted on seeing me safe home, and we thought it the best way to consent.

On our way, the _citoyen_ exclaimed, "_O mon Dieu! le voila lui-meme!_"[16] and we saw the dreaded Robespierre hastily approaching us. He desired to know what was the matter with that woman; and neither Juan nor Alice had recollection enough to reply; but our friend did instantly, taking off his cap as he spoke: "The poor woman, _citoyen_, was nearly crushed in the crowd, and but for me would have been trodden to death. Only see how she trembles still! She has not been able to speak a word yet."

[Footnote 16: Oh! there he is himself.]

"Oh! that is the case, is it?" said he, surveying me with a most scrutinizing glance. "It is well for her I find her in such good company, Benoit."

He then departed, and we recovered our recollection.

He was no sooner gone, than, to my great surprise, I saw Juan seize our companion's hand, while he exclaimed, "You! are you Benoit?"

"To be sure; what then?"

"Why then, you G.o.d for ever bless that's all! For many poor wretch bless you; and now, but for you, what might have become of her?"

"How!" cried Alice; "is this the kind jailor of Luxembourg? Oh dear! how glad I am to see you?"

It was indeed Benoit; who, at a period when to be cruel seemed the only means to be safe, lightened the fetters which he could not remove, and soothed to the best of his power the horrors of a prison and of death.

A feeling which he could not help, but certainly not one of joyful antic.i.p.ation, led him to witness the death of the royal victim; and my evident horror instantly interested and attached him to my side. This good man attended us home, and we had great pleasure in setting before him our little stores: but he could not eat then, he said; and as he spoke, he sighed deeply. However, he a.s.sured us he would come and eat with us some other day: then desiring us to take heed and not go to see sights again, he ran off, saying he had been absent too long.

What a mercy it was that Benoit was with us when we met the tyrant! We also rejoiced that he did not see or did not recognise Juan and Alice: but after this unfortunate rencontre we did not feel ourselves as safe as we did before, and dreaded every day to see him enter the shop.

I now desired to know the reason of Juan's not coming to us, and I found that his too great care had exposed me to even a far worse agony than that from which he wished to preserve me. The truth was, he heard that poor Madame Elizabeth was to be executed the next day: fearing, therefore, that he should be betrayed into saying so, and wis.h.i.+ng me not to know of it till all was over, as he knew how interested I was in her fate, he resolved to stay away, not supposing we should be alarmed; and he and Alice could not return to me sooner, as the way led over the very spot which they wished to avoid. Besides, Alice had told me her not returning was a good sign. Well! this agony was past; but I had seen and met the suspicious eye of the tyrant, and it haunted me wherever I went.

For my own life, indeed, I had no fear; and imprisonment, I thought, was all I had to dread, though poor Juan insisted on it that the wretch saw, spite of my dowdy appearance, that I was a handsome woman; and he thanked Heaven at the close of every day, that no Robespierre had visited us. Another evening Juan returned in much agitation from his walk, but I saw it was of an opposite nature to that which he experienced at sight of Pendarves; and on inquiry I found that he had, as he said, met that good young man, Count De Walden.

"Indeed!" exclaimed I; "and did he see you? and does he know I am in Paris?"

"No, he did not see me; and without your leave, I dared not tell you were here: so I thought it best not to speak to him."

I felt excessively disappointed; but after some moments of reflection I recollected that it would be cruel and selfish to force myself, in a situation so interesting and so anxious, on one who on principle had so recently left the place in which I was; and I told Juan he had done quite right.

"However," said I, "it is a comfort to me to know that I have a protector near."

"Aye; but not for long!"

"No! But what could bring a man like him to this den of wickedness and horrors? Some good purpose no doubt."

"I suspect so; for I saw him in close conversation with Barrere and others, and I overheard him say, 'But can you give me no hope? I want excessively to return home: still, while there is a chance of Colonel Newton's being saved, I will stay.' Barrere, I believe, said all hope was over; for the Count cast up his eyes mournfully to heaven, and retired."

Till I heard this, I was inclined to suspect that my uncle had written to say I was here, and that he came on my account.

I shall now relate the motive of his journey: the object of it was connected with the fate of my husband.

A man of the name of Beauvais was executed with Danton and other supposed conspirators in the preceding April. This man was the father of Annette Beauvais; and she would have been denounced and executed with her father, had not one of Robespierre's tools become exceedingly enamoured of her, and for his sake she was spared. But Colonel Newton having been known to be rather intimate with Beauvais, and having also dared, like a free-born Englishman and a man of independent feelings, to reproach the tyrant with his cruelty, he was accused, imprisoned, and condemned to death. It was on his account that De Walden came to Paris.

By some means or other Newton informed him of his situation; and as he had known him in Switzerland, and greatly esteemed him, he hastened to try whether by solicitation, interest, or money, he could procure his acquittal or escape: but he tried in vain. As vain also were the efforts made,--to do her justice,--by Madame Beauvais herself. The wretch to whom she applied was made jealous of Newton by her earnest entreaties for his life; and his doom was consequently rendered only more certain.

He also tauntingly bade her take care of her own life and that of her American Englishman, a.s.suring her she would not find it an easy matter to do that long. Nor did he threaten in vain; for, though she admitted his addresses and received his splendid presents, she still persisted in living with the infatuated Pendarves, who believed her constancy equal to her pretended love. The consequence was, that an accusation was brought against my husband for getting to Paris on false pretences, and as being a dangerous person: for, though he was born in America, his father was a loyalist, not a republican, and had fought, they found, against the republican arms; and his mother was that offensive thing a woman of quality and a n.o.bleman's daughter. There were other charges equally strong; and even in the presence of his vile companion, Pendarves was arrested, and condemned for the present to be confined _au secret_ in the Luxembourg.

He bore his fate with calmness; for he expected that she who had caused his imprisonment would be eager to share and to enliven it: but that was beyond the heroism of a mistress. She was not willing to prefer to fine apartments and liberty, love and a prison with him; but while he, agonized at her desertion,--for she bade him a cold and final farewell,--was borne away into confinement, she was led away smiling and in triumph by her now avowed protector.

All these circ.u.mstances I did not know at first--I only knew the result; which was imparted to me by the trembling Juan, who had seen Pendarves led away, had seen her farewell, and had vainly tried to make himself observed by him, that he might know he had a friend at hand.

"A friend!" cried I with a flushed cheek, but with a trembling frame: "he shall know that he has the best of friends, a wife, near him!" and instantly, taking no precaution to conceal my person in any way, for I thought not of myself, I hastened rapidly along, Juan with difficulty keeping pace with me, till I reached the Luxembourg.

"Whom do you want?" said a churlish man on duty.

"Seymour Pendarves."

"You can't see him: he is _au secret_."