The Countess of Charny; or, The Execution of King Louis XVI

"No," replied Petion, wondering why the other stared at him. Louis watched for the signal that the mayor had accepted the bribe.

It was clear that the king had been cheated; some swindler had pocketed the money. The queen came in as the question was put to Petion.

"How does our friend stand?" she whispered.

"He has not made any sign," rejoined the king.

"Then he is our prisoner," said she.

"Can I retire?" inquired the mayor.

"For God's sake, do not let him go!" interposed the queen.

"Not yet, sir; I have something yet to say to you," responded the king, raising his voice. "Pray step into this closet."

This implied to those in the inner room that Petion was intrusted to them, and was not to be allowed to go.

Those in the room understood perfectly, and surrounded Petion, who felt that he was a prisoner. He was the thirtieth in a room where there was not elbow-room for four.

"Why, gentlemen, we are smothering here," he said; "I propose a change of air."

It was a sentiment all agreed with, and they followed him out of the first door he opened, and down into the walled-in garden, where he was as much confined as in the closet. To kill time, he picked up a pebble or two and tossed them over the walls.

While he was playing thus, and chatting with Roederer, attorney of the province, the message came twice that the king wanted to see him.

"No," replied Petion; "it is too hot quarters up there. I remember the closet, and I have no eagerness to be in it again. Besides, I have an appointment with somebody on the Feuillants' Quay."

He went on playing at clearing the wall with stones.

"With whom have you an appointment?" asked Roederer.

At this instant the Assembly door on the Feuillants' Quay opened.

"I fancy this is just what I was waiting for," remarked the mayor.

"Order to let Mayor Petion pass forth," said a voice; "the Assembly demands his presence at the bar of the House, to give an account of the state of the city."

"Just the thing," muttered Petion. "Here I am," he replied, in a loud voice; "I am ready to respond to the quips of my enemies."

The National Guards, imagining that Petion was to be berated, let him out.

It was nearly three in the morning; the day was breaking. A singular thing, the aurora was the hue of blood.

CHAPTER X.

BILLET AND PITOU

On being called by the king, Petion had foreseen that he might more easily get into the palace than out, so he went up to a hard-faced man marred by a scar on the brow.

"Farmer Billet," said he, "what was your report about the House?"

"That it would hold an all-night sitting."

"Very good; and what did you say you saw on the New Bridge?"

"Cannon and Guards, placed by order of Colonel Mandat."

"And you also stated that a considerable force was collected under St. John's Arcade, near the opening of St. Antoine Street?"

"Yes; again, by order of Colonel Mandat."

"Well, will you listen to me? Here you have an order to Manuel and Danton to send back to barracks the troops at St. John's Arcade, and to remove the guns from the bridge; at any cost, you will understand, these orders must be obeyed."

"I will hand it to Danton myself."

"Good. You are living in St. Honore Street?"

"Yes, mayor."

"When you have given Danton the order, get home and snatch a bit of rest. About two o'clock, go out to the Feuillants' Quay, where you will stand by the wall. If you see or hear stones falling over from the other side of the wall, it will mean that I am a prisoner in the Tuileries, and detained by violence."

"I understand."

"Present yourself at the bar of the House, and ask my colleagues to claim me. You understand, Farmer Billet, I am placing my life in your hands."

"I will answer for it," replied the bluff farmer; "take it easy."

Petion had therefore gone into the lion's den, relying on Billet's patriotism.

The latter had spoken the more firmly, as Pitou had come to town. He dispatched the young peasant to Danton, with the word for him not to return without him. Lazy as the orator was, Pitou had a prevailing way, and he brought Danton with him.

Danton had seen the cannon on the bridge, and the National Guards at the end of the popular quarter, and he understood the urgency of not leaving such forces on the rear of the people's army. With Petion's order in hand, he and Manuel sent the Guards away and removed the guns.

This cleared the road for the Revolution.

In the meantime, Billet and Pitou had gone to their old lodging in St. Honore Street, to which Pitou bobbed his head as to an old friend. The farmer sat down, and signified the young man was to do the same.

"Thank you, but I am not tired," returned Pitou; but the other insisted, and he gave way.

"Pitou, I sent for you to join me," said the farmer.

"And you see I have not kept you waiting," retorted the National Guards captain, with his own frank smile, showing all his thirty-two teeth.

"No. You must have guessed that something serious is afoot."

"I suspected as much. But, I say, friend Billet, I do not see anything of Mayor Bailly or General Lafayette."

"Bailly is a traitor, who nearly murdered the lot of us on the parade-ground."