The atelier du Lys, or, An art student in the Reign of Terror

Front matter

THE mm

OR

AN ART STUDENT IN THE REIGN OF TERROR

Contents

CHAPTER

I. Mother and Daughter

II. Plot and Counterplot .

Chapter II. Plot And Counterplot

Two days after the hasty, unhonoured burial of Madame Leroux, Edmee sat alone in the dim room where she had nursed her mother, beside the empty bed. Her household duties had all been done early in the day ; she had not been out of the house, nor had anyone come near her, and as she sat in silence and solitude a sudden sense of desolation came upon her, and, for the first time, hiding her face on the bed, she broke into weeping, mute, but shaking her from head to foot with emotion. Two or three figures passing the closed window, and the click of the lifted door-latch in the outer room startled her sobs away ; she sat up, putting back her loosened hair, and drying her eyes in great haste, and then she flushed red, while her . slender brows contracted, for, among the voices now speaking behind the thin partition which divided her room from the outer one, she recognised that of Letumier. She expected to be summoned by her father every moment, never doubting that this visit concorned her, but the words passing between the men speedily undeceived her, yet startled her so that it was scarcely a relief. She rose noiselessly, and leaned her head against the partition, straining her ear to catch each word. ' M. le Chevalier at the chateau ! Ah, what madness ! ' flitted through her mind as she listened. ' What can have brought him here — to his death?' Further listening told her that

10 THE ATELIEK DU LYS.

there were papers and sums of money at the chateau which Alain de St. Aignan had, douhtless, come to secure. His mother had distrusted Leroux, and so far infected her husband with her own suspicions that he had left the papers and money in a secret hiding-place until someone whom he trusted could fetch them, instead of sending orders to his intendant to despatch them to Paris when the troubles began. Leroux cared comparatively little for the money, but he had a Frenchman's and a Celt's intense desire to possess land ; to own Chateau St. Aignan was his heart's strongest wish. He hated the nobles, whom he had long served and by whom he had been regarded as merely a serviceable tool, with capabilities which merited the honour of being used by them ; and it gave him indescribable pleasure to have his turn, and be master. The opportunity for which he had waited was come ; the heir of St. Aignan and the title-deeds were within his grasp. Edmee understood perfectly what must be passing in his mind ; he and Letumier were arranging with a third ally how a party of ' good patriots ' were to be promptly collected, and while one set crossed by the bridge, another should take the shorter way over the river in the miller's boat, so as to secure both approaches to the chateau. There was a moment's debate whether one party should go to the mill at once, but it was decided first to call for the maire, and summon him to accompany them to arrest the Chevalier. The niaire was one Martin Gautier, the blacksmith of Vaise, a jovial, honest fellow, who, having profited largely by the sale of the convent lands, thought that the Revolution had gone far enough, and, in his heart, feared Leroux and Letumier dismally. Leroux did not love Martin Gautier, and was glad of the chance of showing him reluctant to forward patriotic designs. It was therefore settled to fetch him, and to have a cart ready in which to convey the prisoner to Macon. There was no need for a pretext for arresting him. His noble birth was reason enough, not to mention that his elder brother had been taken fighting against his country in the ranks of the emigrants. The three men left the house, and Edmee stood up straight and white. ' Our dear lady's son ! And my father has betrayed him ! Ah, mother, thank God you are not here to know it ! ' And then the promise which that mother had bound her with came to Edmee's mind. ' Mv father will find it out and kill me. Well, then

PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT. 11

I shall not marry Letumier ! They shall not take M. le Chevalier — no, they shall not.' She stood an instant, thinking : ' Gautier's house is at the other end of the village — then they will have to come all the way back here, and so to the mill before they separate. Yes, I can get the boat and cross, and then they must all go round by the bridge. There will be time.'

Edmee knew the trick of the boat-chain well ; she was sure that she could undo it, and so cross the mill-pool. Leroux's house stood on the edge of the village, and she might hope in the gathering twilight to leave it unperceived, or that, if anyone saw her, it would be supposed that she was going to see her uncle and aunt. Many, she knev/, would be gathered to hear the Annates Patriotiques read aloud, for now newspapers were freely read in the village, the sale of which a few years before would have brought a colporteur to the gallows and the listeners to prison. Another change was the active cultivation of land which had been until now neglected. Edmee had some reason to hope that the villagers who were not at the club would be at work in the fields. She crossed the threshold and looked round. There was no one in sight but an old ragged woman, hobbling along towards her, though up in the village there was a cheerful stir. Madame Leroux had given many a bowl of soup to old Nicole ; and when she saw Edmee she hobbled a little faster. Edmee quivered with impatience, but dared not excite attention by hurrying by. And yet every moment was inestimable ! ' Ah, my dear heart,' whimpered the old woman, shaking her withered head and rearing herself on her stick before Edmee ; ' so she's gone ! she's gone ! and there's one less to do a kind turn to a poor creature like me, who ■would have starved last winter but for her. When I used to lie awake of a night and hear the wolves howl and jump up at the windows and fall back into the snow, I thought all night long of the soup I should get from her the next day. There's no one now to give a poor body a bowl of soup.' Edmee saw that she should not get rid of the old woman until she had responded to the hint. ' Sit down, Nicole,' she said, ' I will find you something to eat ; only I cannot stay ; ' and she looked anxiously towards the village from the top of the steps where she stood. Old Nicole clambered up one or two and settled herself comfortably. ' Ah, you are Dame Edmonde's

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own daughter ' ' said she. ' You never miss the chance of a good work, and truly, since the world's coming to an end, what remains to us but to make our salvation 1 But they will not let us even do that ! ' she added, in a lowei-ed tone. ' The reverend fathers are all driven out of the monastery, and M. l'Abbe is in prison at Macon, and the King is dead, and the nobles gone, and I am just as poor as ever ; what is the use of having our liberty, as they call it, if one is no better off? But you will not tell anyone that I said so, my little heart 1 ' added she, with sudden apprehension. ' I am only a poor old woman ; I don't understand these things. You are in haste 1 You are going somewhere ? '

' Yes, I cannot stay ; I am going to the mill.'

' Ah, to the mill,' echoed Nicole, as if some unusual thrill m the girl's voice had struck her.

' 1 am late ; I dare not linger. If you see my father you will not say anything, Nicole ? ' said Edmee, aware that to say this was perilous, but terribly afraid lest, as Leroux passed by, Nicole should unwittingly arouse bis suspicions.

' I understand, I understand,' answered Nicole, rising, and putting down the empty bowl, with the self-satisfaction of one who in point of fact does not understand at all. ' There is no need to say his message was not carried to the mill an hour ago. Farewell, my heart, the saints keep you ! '

She tottered away. Edmee dared not think how much time had been lost, but after one more scared glance towards the village, which assured her that as yet no one was coming thence, she ran down the moss-grown steps, and hurried towards the mill, asking herself as she went, if the miller's man were loitering about, or her aunt came out, what pretext she could possibly find for asking to be put across the river. None occurred to her; she could only say desperately to herself : ' If I cross on the rocks, or wade the channel, I will get over ! '

No pretext was needed. Not a living creature seemed stirring near the mill, and the boat was secured at the edge of the pool, where the water lay smooth and still, reflecting the wheel, now motionless, and the old wooden house, though further down it rushed furiously over the great stones in its course. She had often passed over the mill-pool, and, unloosing the boat, pushed across with the long paddle with all the force she could muster. She could see the chateau

A REPUBLICAN WEDDING. 13

standing half-a-mile off in the flat park, dark and solitary, its tall keep standing up conspicuous above the more modern part. Not a light was to be seen at any of the upper windows, nor a human being moving about it ; for month's past only an old gardener and his wife had lived in the chateau, but her heart leaped up in fresh excitement as she ran towards it, at the sight of a gleam from a lower room, where neither Blaise nor his wife were likely to be. Edinee knew that it was there she must seek Alain de St. Aignan. She had not seen him for several years — not since he had outgrown his boyhood ; she might not have recognised him had she met him, but he was the son of one whom she had passionately loved, and her errand was to hinder her own father from bringing him to the scaffold. Edmee knew well that a St. Aignan would only leave the prisons of Macon for the guillotine. What would happen should Leroux find out how she had crossed his purposes she scarcely thought. Hers was the woman's courage, which rises to confront an emergency, and the one thing in her mind was how to forestall Leroux.

Chapter III. A Republican Wedding

Alain de St. Aignan had never been within the walls of the chateau since the day when he bent over his mother's deathbed, to which a hasty summons had called him from his regiment. The tie between the mother and son had been peculiarly close ; as Madame Leroux had implied, the eldest son, heir and representative of the family, had, as it were, belonged exclusively to the father ; but Alain was the mother's own, the one who reflected her views and disposition, the deepest source of gladness in her life. It had been a happy, sunny life, although she was married to a man much older than herself, and they had few tastes in common. Madame de St. Aignan was a woman who found and made brightness wherever she went. Yes, she had been happy ; Alain knew it, and it was almost the only thing on which he could dwell without pain as he sat alone in the silent chateau, believing that no one knew of his arrival, and waiting for the protection of darkness before ho left it. He was thinking much more of her than of the risk he ran 01 of the business which brought him, important as it was, and marvelling within himself that any circumstances could have so altered his feelings that, instead of the anguish which had filled him as he bent over her and saw the sweet eyes grow dim in death, he was absolutely thankful that she was gone. The three years since her death had been filled with so rapid and amazing a series of events that he was dizzy and bewildered, and could see nothing of whither the vessel was drifting amid the breakers, whose roar told of the rocks ahead.

But a short space before this wild time the nobles had been everything in France ; the whole nation seemed to exist only for them and the King. Then a breath of freer air began to blow ; the doctrine spread that all classes had equal rights, all men were brothers ; and while it filled some hearers with angry horror, very many among the privileged classes hailed it with generous enthusiasm, and urged it on by word and deed. A perception of the ills under which France was suffering seemed to become suddenly universal, and the wildest panaceas were proposed to cure them ; while no one saw that it was impossible that a nation trained under a despotism should know what to do with liberty. The expulsion of the Protestants had destroyed that industrious middle class who would have had an interest in the stability of existing things ; the miserable peasants were ground down by taxes, and were often scarcely more than serfs, and the commercial class were profoundly offended by the insolence of the nobles. All the social problems, which had been continually growing more and more complicated ever since the sixteenth century, rose up, demanding to be solved at once. In this general confusion power fell into the hands of men who had nothing to lose and all to gain by destroying everyone richer or nobler than themselves, with the nation's sense of wrongs which had accumulated for centuries to back them up, and with ' Would you be free 1 then cut off heads ! ' as a watchword. The utter disorganisation throughout the country in 1793 was indescribable; no one knew whom to trust or what to do, and many, through sheer timidity, sided with the most violent in their neighbourhood, by "way of

A BEPUBLICAN WEDDING. 15

securing a character for patriotism. Yet it was but a little while since the nobles had led the movement towards reform, and had voluntarily renounced their titles and privileges. Alain, while rapidly glancing through letters and papers, caught sight of a sentence in one which vividly recalled that memorable day when De Noailles stood up in the National Assembly, with Lameth and Lamboine, and volunteered in the name of his order to resign hereditary rights and honours. It seemed as if a great gulf lay between that day and this, as Alain recollected his own glow of enthusiasm, the indignation aroused in him by his brother's frigid disapproval, and the pain with which he had seen the ironical smile on his father's lips, as M. de St. Aignan observed, with a little significant gesture : ' We may give up our titles, but we cannot be born again as roturiers to please ces messieurs ! ' Alain only then understood that though his father was a philosopher and liberal in theory, in heart he was as utter an aristocrat as his eldest son, who had married into one of the most conservative families in France, and from the first had opposed all reforms with a persistency which had early brought all connected with him into danger. The present state of things seemed amply to justify him, and Alain felt it with inexpressible keenness and bitterness, yet felt certain all the while that at the bottom of all lay right and justice. One of the sharp trials of the time, especially to minds like his, was the difficulty of proving this, even to himself the inability to distinguish between the early desire for lawful reform and the madness and anarchy of the last two years. Another, equally keen, was the deep disunion which the Revolution had caused in families hitherto cordially united. M. de St. Aignan's liberal views, or what he called such, melted away at the first hint of danger ; but, mere talk though they were, they had alienated his eldest son, who scarcely ever visited him, and would not even recognise Alain when they met ; for Alain had not only embraced the popular side with a generous lad's enthusiasm, but upheld it as he grew older, viewing it from the liberal and serious point of view which he had learned to take from his mother's family. Madame de St. Aignan belonged to one of those great legal families who formed an unimpeachable nobility of their own, and had opposed despotism undauntedly, wherever they found it, even under a Richelieu or a Louis XIV., though their voices had as fai as possible been silenced, and the Parleruents of Paris and the provinces crippled and shorn of their power.

And now Alain sat alone in the deserted chateau, his brother dead, and his father attempting to cross the frontier and escape into Switzerland, with a passport obtained through the disdainful kindness of a relation, whom for some years all the family had looked on with indignant coldness, as a very black sheep indeed. From the early days of the Revolution M. de St. Aignan had been bent on emigrating with his younger son, and that Alain should venture to oppose him was to him the strongest proof of all into what chaos the world had returned. There had been many arguments between them, furious on the one side, respectful but firm on the other. Now, once mere, Alain seemed to find himself entirely in the wrong ; he had refused to emigrate because it seemed to him a cowardly desertion of king and country, a fatal throwing away of the game ; and here, at last, he found himself obliged to yield, and consider that they were only too fortunate if they could save their lives by this tardy flight. He had but a few hours to spare, and some of these he intended to spend in a hasty journey across country, to see a member of his family who was abiding whatever fortune might bring, in strict retirement, though not absolutely in hiding. He believed his presence at the chateau unknown, except to old Blaise, whom he trusted, and little guessed that while the daughter of his greatest enemy was flying to warn him, danger was approaching as rapidly as she. Some subtle sense of its neighbourhood, however, thrilled through him ; he sat listening intently, and fancied that he heard a step. Edm.ee was standing breathless without • she saw him lift his head, pause, look round, then, as if reassured, bend again over the packet of papers which he was fastening up, and then start as she tapped with hasty imperative fingers on the window. He came and opened it at once, with enquiring looks. The pale face recalled nothing to him ; perhaps he had hardly ever looked at the intendant's daiighter, who was a mere child when he came to Vaise ; but her agitation, though words died breathless on her lips, told plainly enough that her message was urgent.

' Whom do you seek, mademoiselle ? ' he asked, in the kind and courteous voice in which Edmee seemed to hear

A REPUBLICAN WEDDING. i7

his mother's tones. ' Come in, — nay,' as she shrank back, ' you can scarcely stand, what can I do for you 1 '

' Oh, nothing, nothing,' she gasped, letting herself ho drawn into the room, and leaning on the hack of a high chair to save herself from dropping to the ground : ' I came — oh, monsieur, do not lose a moment, they know that you aro here, they come to take you to prison — '

' Ah ! ' said Alain, changing colour, ' Is it so ?■ and to whom do I owe this warning V

' I am Leroux's daughter— oh, do not linger ! '

' Leroux's daughter ! ' said Alain, gathering up the papers which he had come at such risk to seek, ' I owe this friendly warning to him ! ' and there was an accent of surprise which showed that the young man had not put implicit faith in the steward. There was no time for an answer ; before Alain could step through the window, before the faint cry had died on Edmee's lips, a party of armed men dashed open the door, while a second came suddenly round the angle of the house, and stood looking into the dimly-lighted room, into which their comrades were advancing with a shout of triumph at the sight of their prey. Leroux was among them, and his ally Letumier ; behind came a party of bare-footed, bareheaded peasants, trying to look over each other's shoulders at the young noble. Alain had his hand on his pistols, but his first thought was how to shield the poor girl who had come to warn him ; he hoped that in the gloom she might escape unnoticed, and stepped hastily forward, asking what they came for.

' For something which we have found,' answered Letumier, ' for an animal of an aristocrat, who has come here to try how much more he can rob the nation of before he goes off to our enemies. Here, friends, hand me a lantern ; let us see what the young rascal was about before we lodge him at the expense of the nation,— nay, nay, you need not be in such a hurry ; you may not find those lodgings exactly what you have been used to, my ci-devant.'

' He's in haste to see all his friends at Macon, but there's no fear of their running away, except to look out of the little window ' (guillotine), laughed another, holding up the lantern and casting its unsteady light into the further part of the room. ' Why, what's that V perceiving that there was someone yet unpeiceived there, ' a woman ! ' with an indescribable accent, and throwing the gleam full on the face of Eclniee as all the villagers pushed in, eager to verify the fact. ' A girl ! "Why, citizen Leroux !' as they all recognised the poor girl, ■who had made no attempt to escape, but stood as she had done all along, in white despair, ' by St. Guillotine ! it is your daughter ! '

There was an instant's dumb amazement, but the sudden, universal laugh with which the villagers recovered from their first stupefaction roused Leroux from his speechless fury. Advancing with a furious curse, he ordered Edmee to say what had brought her there, looking at her with deadly menace as words died on her quivering lips. Alain answered for her : ' Your business is not with this child, but me, messieurs ; I am ready to follow you.'

' What, a man finds his daughter shut up in the dark with a young man, and he is not even to ask what it means ! voila bien these aristocrats ! ' said Leroux, with cold fury.

' Know what it means ! ' said Letumier, with a sneer, which made Alain set his teeth and colour hotly. ' Not much need to ask that ! '

' At least I know this,' said Leroux, exasperated by feeling that his neighbours were hugely enjoying his discomfiture, ' that my house is no harbour for traitors to the nation. Let the huzzy go with him to Macon, since she is so fond of his company. I would send my own mother to the guillotine if she were not a good Republican ! I would stand by and see her head fall into the basket joyfully if I suspected her of abetting the ci-devants ! '

' Well said, citizen Leroux ! ' answered Letumier; ' a true patriot has no family except the Republic'

He looked round for applause, and scowled angrily as he perceived that the laughter and the coarse jests which his companions had been showering on Alain and Edmee had ceased, and instead there was a murmur, which lashed up Leroux's fury afresh.

' I tell you I mean it ! ' he cried, with a secret fear that his daughter's having sided with the aristocrats would hereafter be used against him. 'What are we waiting for? Here ! ' to a couple of municipal guards, ' take the scoundrel of an aristocrat and this jade away at once ! '

' Good heavens ! have none of you an innocent daxighter like this poor child 1 ' exclaimed Alain, starting between

A BEPtJBLICAN WEDDING. 19

Edmee and the guards, who advanced rather reluctantly, looking enquiringly towards the maire, who seemed very slow to givo any sign. 'What has she done but try to save a stranger's life out of sheer pity 1 I tell you I am ready to go where you like — straight to the scaffold if you will — but, unless you are downright fiends, you will let the girl go ! '

' She does not darken my doors again,' said Leroux.

' As for that, she can come to me,' said his brother-in-law, the miller, who had held Leroux back with a strong hand when he would have seized on Edmee. ' At least, that is ' — he stopped in evident embarrassment.

' Ah, friend miller forgot he had to ask Dame Magloire's leave,' said a voice, and there was a general laugh, for everyone knew that the burly miller dared not lift a finger without his wife's permission.

' Listen, friends,' said the maire, a man evidently superior to the rest, who had all along looked disturbed and reluctant ; ' it would be a blot on our village if one of our lasses had to go to prison as a bad patriot ; we should not like that story told in Les Yignes or Boissy, eh ? We should have them crowing over us more than ever, and that would be hard on good patriots like us — we are all good patriots here, is it not so 1 We are not like some places, which have to send a dozen or two people to prison to prove it. Yes, yes, citizen Letumier. I know that Fouche has reproached us for having contributed so few to the prisons of Macon, but what does that show 1 that there are only good Republicans among us, to be sure. Are we to be free and equal only to have Fouche ordering us about as if he were our seigneur 1 No seigneurs for us, we are free citizens here ! Bah ! the daughter of a man like the citizen Leroux cannot be a traitor ; the thing is impossible — there is only one aristocrat here ' — pointing to Alain — ' well, then, I have an idea ; shall I tell it to you, my friends 1 ' and, encouraged by signs of approbation from many of his audience, he resumed, with a laugh : ' They used to say in old days that man and wife were one ; what do you say to our turning an aristocrat into a patriot by marrying him to a good B«publican's daughter? Let the young ci-devant marry the girl, and send them about their business. What do you say to that 1 '

A roar of laughter and applause covered any dissent. Leroux's voice was inaudible. Alain smiled haughtily and

c2

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answered : ' You can insult me as you please ; my life is in your hands, but my honour and my name are my own.'

It was well for him that the noise drowned his words, as it did the faint protest of Edmee. The maire, who had come close up to him, answered in a lowered voice, ' You may talk of your honour, monsieur, but it seems to a plain man like me that honour would have you get the girl out of the scrape you have brought her into — well, well, that she has run into to serve you, if you like that better. What is to become of her 1 And life is sweet ; you cannot have it twice, mind that ! '

Alain knew it. He was only twenty-four, and life was sweet, even in all the wretchedness of the time. He looked, as the maire did, at Edmee, hiding her face on the back of the tall chair to which she had been clinging, overwhelmed with shame and misery. What indeed was to become of her 1 He gave another glance at the evil face of Leroux, and knew that he could not leave her in those hands. Raising his voice above the tumult, he said, so that all could hear : ' Let it be so, on condition that you do not let any harm come to this girl.'