When a Cobbler Ruled a King Part 14

Who shall say that Marie Antoinette, looking down on her little son from that other world, did not smile too, and bless him in her heart!

So the months pa.s.sed, till one night in January, 1795, as Jean was preparing to go home for his weekly visit to the Rue de Lille, Caron laid his hand on the boy's arm.

"Don't go home to-night,--at least not till later!" he whispered.

"Why not?" demanded Jean wonderingly.

"_Because the time has come!_" answered Caron, enigmatically. But Jean understood, and waited in breathless expectation. Later the two pa.s.sed into the deserted streets about the Temple. Caron stopped suddenly in the shadow of a high wall, and grasped Jean's arm.

"Are you truly devoted to _him_?" he asked in an undertone pointing to the Tower.

"I am!" responded the boy quietly, in a simple but convincing manner.

"So much so that you are willing to risk life, liberty, everything, in his cause?"

"Yes!"

"Then come with me!" And Caron led the way through many winding, half-deserted streets, till at length they stood before a little tumble-down hovel in a black, unsightly alley. Caron knocked on the door with three peculiar taps, two loud and one soft. The door was opened a moment later by an unseen hand, and someone demanded:

"The pa.s.sword!"

"_Marie Antoinette!_" whispered Caron. The voice replied:

"_And Louis XVII!_ Enter and be silent!" Jean was mystified beyond expression, but in his young enthusiasm he was eager for adventure of any kind, and one that related to his dearest hopes was all the more alluring. He entered with Caron, his heart beating high. In utter darkness they pa.s.sed through rooms apparently empty, guided always by the unseen owner of the voice. Then they descended a stairway, and stood in what Jean took to be the cellar. Here the guide lighted a taper and bent to examine the floor. By the uncertain light, Jean perceived only that it was a man, and that his face was hidden by a black mask covering eyes, nose and mouth. Presently he found an iron ring, lifted it, thereby pulling up a large stone, and disclosed another staircase reaching far down beyond the range of light.

"Do not fear!" whispered Caron.

"Oh, I'm not in the least afraid!" Jean a.s.sured him, and to tell the truth, he was enjoying himself immensely! Then the guide descended, Jean followed next, and Caron came last, closing the stone entrance after him. Guided by the little candle they groped their way down the stairs and along a pa.s.sage or tunnel so narrow that even Jean could not walk upright in it, nor raise his arms far from his side. The tunnel seemed interminable, and moreover, tiny trickling streams of water slid down its sides at intervals. Jean was thankful when they ascended another stairway, and stood in another cellar. This one he could see was much larger than the first, and filled with casks and barrels, evidently of wine. Here their guide again halted them.

"Put on these!" he commanded, and gave them two masks similar to his own. When these were adjusted he bade them go up the stairs, then he turned and went back through the tunnel, his duty being that of doorkeeper. Led by Caron they went upstairs, and knocked on a heavy door at the summit.

"The pa.s.sword!" demanded another voice. It was given and answered as before, and suddenly the two found themselves in a brilliantly lighted room. So dazzling was the intense light after the blackness through which they had been travelling, that Jean was for a moment almost blinded. When this sensation pa.s.sed, he saw that they were in a large room furnished with chairs and a heavy centre-table. Everywhere were evidences of rich taste in decoration, and the apartment was doubtless in an abode of great wealth. Around the table were seated from twenty to twenty-five men all masked like themselves. At the head of the table sat the leader who turned at their entrance.

"Welcome," he said, "and be seated!" Jean and Caron placed themselves in two vacant chairs. For several moments no one spoke. Then the man at the head rose.

"Brothers," he began, "since we are all here, we will delay no longer in opening our meeting. Unmask!" At this command every mask was removed except that of the leader, which he continued to wear throughout the session. Jean looked about him in complete amazement What did it all mean? Here were Barelle, Meunier, Gagnie, a former cook at the Tower, Debierne the commissary who never failed to bring Louis Charles a toy whenever he visited him, and a host of others whom he knew but slightly.

Most surprising of all, however, was the Baron de Batz seated directly across the table, who nodded an affectionate greeting and welcome to the boy. The masked leader looked about him, and his glance fell on Jean.

"There is a strange face among us! Who is responsible for the stranger?" Caron rose.

"'Tis I who brought him. Jean Dominique Mettot is his name, my a.s.sistant in the kitchen. He is a devoted and loyal friend of the little king, and one who will be able to render us valuable service. I vouch for him!"

"And I also!" said the Baron de Batz quietly, from the other side of the table.

"Then let him be sworn!" replied the leader. The ceremony that followed was a curious one. The company all rose, and Jean was requested to stand upon the table. He climbed up a.s.sisted by the leader who held a lighted candle in his hand.

"We are the Brotherhood of Liberation!" announced the masked one. "Our sole aim and object is to free Louis XVII from his hateful, cruel and unjust captivity, and get him out of the country or to some place of safety. For this we have sworn to devote our lives! Since you desire to join us, you must submit to being branded with the badge of our Order.

If you flinch in the branding, you are not worthy to be admitted among us. Jean Dominique Mettot, hold out your left hand, palm downward!" Jean obeyed. The leader held close under it the flame of the candle. The boy's first impulse was to shrink back, but he clinched his teeth and endured to the end what seemed to him an unspeakable torture. Finally the leader removed the candle.

"You have stood the test bravely and well! You will now take the oath of loyalty with the rest. Hold up your branded hand!" Jean held up his scorched palm, and every man in the room raised his open left hand. In the palm of each was a small scar, made evidently in the same manner.

The leader raised his hand also, and they all repeated aloud the creed of their band:

"By our branded hands we swear to devote our lives and all we hold dear to the cause of liberating Louis XVII from his captivity. Likewise we swear that to the end of our lives we will never reveal these secrets, except with the permission of the entire band!" When this was over they dropped their hands and resumed their seats, and Jean was helped from the table. Barelle applied soothing liniments and bandages to his wounded hand, and the business of the meeting went forward.

In that night Jean learned much. In the first place he understood that there was a definite plot to release the little king,--a plot not confined to a few scattered souls not yet devoid of all humanity, but organised and countenanced by some high in authority, who however preferred that their ident.i.ty should remain unknown. The details of the scheme were not yet fully worked out. But in the rough, the idea was to spirit away Louis XVII, hide him for a while in an unused upper part of the Temple, and subst.i.tute in his place some child resembling him that they would procure from one of the hospitals,--a child so ill that he could not in all reason live very long. On the death of this sick child it would be officially proclaimed that Louis XVII was no more, and then the real boy could be taken away without very much fear of discovery.

Many things, however, stood for the present in the way of success. In the first place Laurent was an ardent Republican and too conscientious to consent to wink at such a scheme. Gomin as yet vacillated, but his sympathies would probably soon be gained. Then a sick child must be procured and smuggled into the Tower. No child had yet been discovered who sufficiently resembled Louis Charles, though Saintanac, a surgeon in the Society, was making a daily round of the hospitals to find one. It was a terribly difficult, unthinkably hazardous undertaking, for it would mean the lives of all were they discovered, and doubtless the certain death of the very one they sought to rescue. Yet all were eager, hopeful, enthusiastic! The meeting broke up with a renewal of their oath of allegiance and they were dismissed in the same way that they had come, through the tunnel and the hovel in the alley.

When they were outside, Caron told Jean some additional items of interest. The house they met in was that of the Marquis de Fenouil, an ardent royalist. It was the Marquis who had been responsible for the appointment of Gomin, whom he hoped would be converted to the cause.

Caron said he was sure it was the Marquis who had led the meeting that night. They had various leaders who always remained masked, thereby avoiding absolute recognition, for they were frequently men prominent in Republican authority. It was even whispered that the great Barras himself was sometimes behind that mask. It was also hinted that Barras had a secret interest in having the little prince removed to a remote place of safety. But these things were not openly spoken of.

Jean went home that night to nurse his wounded hand, with his head in a whirl, but with immense hope and thankfulness in his heart!

LA SOURIS MEETS HIS MATCH

CHAPTER XV

LA SOURIS MEETS HIS MATCH

A month and a half had pa.s.sed. Jean regularly attended the meetings of the Brotherhood, and in all that company there was no more active and enthusiastic worker than this youngest member of the league. By the middle of March many things had been accomplished and the rough details of the plot were nearing perfection.

In the first place, the Surgeon Saintanac had at last discovered a child suffering with a hopeless, incurable disease, and as like the little prince as could be wished in one so near death. The problem of smuggling him into the Tower was to be solved in this way. When Citizeness Clouet came with a basket of clean linen, the sick child was to be concealed at the bottom. The day chosen for this must of course be one when the munic.i.p.als on duty were mostly those of the Brotherhood, and the examination of the basket could thus be intentionally hasty and incomplete. Then the child would be hidden in an upper lumber room, till a favourable opportunity to have him exchange places with the King.

This opportunity was not far away, for Laurent had intimated to some of the munic.i.p.als that he was about to resign his position as keeper of the royal child. His mother had recently died, family affairs were pressing, and in spite of his real affection for the boy, he felt that he had done his duty and that the time had come for his removal. His successor, a man named Citizen Lasne, was a staunch Republican, but this did not worry the Brotherhood, since they planned that the false king should be exchanged for the real one before his arrival.

One other most important point had been gained by the society. Gomin had at last ceased his vacillating, and come out staunchly for the cause.

Munic.i.p.al Debierne the toy-man, was responsible for this. Long and arduous had been his discussions, quiet and skilful his manipulations of the impressionable Gomin, till at length, inspired both by Debierne's influence and his own very real sympathy for his pathetic little charge, he yielded. He was brought to the Brotherhood meeting, branded and sworn, and the cause was all but complete.

Great was the rejoicing on the night of Gomin's initiation into the Brotherhood, and a huge feast was partaken of in celebration of this most important event. Jean's delight was beyond all bounds, and he had hard work to contain his bubbling spirits, when he heard a piece of news that considerably dampened his ardour. It was Caron who told him. It had leaked out that La Souris was again walking about as if no harm could threaten him! After having disappeared for many months, he had managed to wriggle himself into favour with someone in high authority, probably with the minor leader of the Convention, La Reveilliere-Lepeaux, and was again expecting to resume his duties as munic.i.p.al of the Tower.

"Look out!" warned Caron. "He has you particularly in his eye, Jean! He can't do you much harm personally, for you are under the protection of the Brotherhood. Your place here is secure. But he may be the death of the whole plot if we don't watch out!"

"I'll watch him like a cat!" declared the disgusted boy. "I'll keep him in sight every minute of the time he is in the Tower. Trust me! But, oh, _why_ did he have to come back?"

The day was appointed at last for the first great move. Far in the night, on the twenty-sixth of March, Saintanac drove up in a tightly closed carriage to Citizeness Clouet's door. No one was about to see him carry into the house a young boy of ten years, desperately ill and half delirious. This child, some nameless waif from one of the charity hospitals, bore a haunting, ghastly resemblance to the little captive of the Tower.

The surgeon administered to him a heavy dose of opium that would put him into a deep sleep for many hours, and left him in the care of Mere Clouet. She and Yvonne were both in the plot, of course, though it had not been deemed necessary that they should become sworn and branded members, since Jean vouched for them. Next morning they packed the unconscious child into the huge clothes-basket, carefully arranging the linen so that he should not be smothered. Then, with beating hearts and courage steeled to the utmost, they called a cab, in it deposited their heavy burden, and were driven to the Temple.

"Mother, mother!" gasped Yvonne, pressing her hands to her heart to still the terrible thumping, "what will happen if La Souris is there and insists on examining the basket?"

"Trust in G.o.d, little one!" answered Mere Clouet. "Our cause is a just one and merciful. He will not suffer it to fail! Repeat the prayer for those in danger, child!" Yvonne's lips moved softly, and scarcely had she reached the "Amen!" when the carriage drew up at the outer courtyard.