The Hero of the People: A Historical Romance of Love, Liberty and Loyalty

“I will further you in the departure.”

“Nothing could fall more timely,” said the Queen, “for we have a nobleman ready to act in this escape – “

“Do you mean Marquis Favras?” demanded Gilbert, with apprehension.

“Who breathed you his name – who communicated to you his project?”

“Oh, have a care, for a bloody prediction pursued him also.”

“Of the same Prophet? what fate awaits him?”

“Untimely, terrible and infamous like that you mentioned.”

“Then you speak truly – no time must be lost in giving the lie to this prophet of evil.”

“You were going to tell Favras that you accepted his aid?”

“He was advised and I am awaiting his reply.”

She had not long to wait, for Isidore Charny was ushered in by the Princess Lamballe.

“I am told that I may speak before Dr. Gilbert,” said he. “Then, know that Marquis Favras was arrested an hour ago and imprisoned in the Chatelet.”

Bright but despairing and full of ire, the Queen’s glance crossed that of the doctor. All her wrath seemed spent in that flash.

“Madam,” said Gilbert with deep pity, “if I can be useful in any way, make use of me. I lay at your feet my mind, my life, my devotion.”

“Dr. Gilbert,” she said in a slow and resigned voice, “is it your opinion that the death given by this dread engine is as sweet as the inventor asserts?”

He sighed and hid his face in his hands.

As the news of Favras’ arrest had circulated over the palace in a few seconds, Count Provence went to his brother. His advice was that Favras should be repudiated and the King take the oath to the Constitution.

“But how can I swear fidelity to an incomplete Constitution?”

“The more easily,” replied the schemer, with his false squint which came from the darkest sinuosities of his soul.

“I will,” said the King: “this does not prevent my writing to Marquis Bouille that our plan is postponed. This will give Charny time to regulate the route.”

For his part, Provence acted on part of his own suggestion: he repudiated Favras and received the thanks of the Assembly.

Favras was left alone save for Cagliostro who perhaps felt a little remorse that he had let the bravest in the conspiracy go so far in a mission which he had foredoomed to failure. But Favras would not accept rescue and met his death by hanging with unblemished courage and honor.

The King took the oath, as he had promised his brother, to the Constitution, yet in embryo. If he loved it so dearly already, what would he do when it was in shape?

The ten days following were days of rejoicing; joy in the Assembly; calm in Paris; altars built all over the town for passers to take oath after the royal precedent.

The Assembly commanded a Te Deum to be chanted in the Cathedral, where all gathered to renew the oath in solemnity.

“Why did you not go to the church?” sneered the Queen to her husband.

“Because I do not object to lying for a purpose, but I do not mean to perjure myself,” said Louis XVI.

The Queen breathed again for until then she had believed in the monarch’s honesty. She felt empowered by this perfidy to take the same path and it was after giving her hand for Mirabeau to kiss that this new leader for the court party vowed that the monarchy was saved.

Her forehead was swathed in a wet bandage, her eyes were wandering and her face flushed with fever. Amongst the incoherent words, the farmer thought he could distinguish the name of Isidore.

“I see that it is good time that I came home,” he muttered.

He went forth, and was followed by Pitou, but Dr. Raynal detained the latter.

“I want you my lad,” he said, “to help Mother Clement hold the patient while I bleed her for the third time.”

“The third time?” cried Mrs. Billet, awaking from her dulness. “Do you hear that, my man, they bleed her for the third time.”

“Woman, this would not have happened had you looked after your daughter closer,” said the farmer in a stern voice.

He went to his room, from which he had been absent three months while Pitou entered the sick room.

Pitou was astonished but he would have felt more so if he had guessed that the doctor called him in as a moral remedy.

The doctor had noticed two names as used by the girl in her frenzy, Ange Pitou and Isidore Charny, and he soon distinguished that one was a friend’s and the other a dearer one. He concluded that Pitou was the lovers’ confidant and that there would be no inconvenience in the gallant’s friend being there to speak with the patient on the mutual acquaintance.

Everybody knew down here that Valence Charny had been killed at Versailles and that his eldest brother had called away Isidore on the next evening.

That night Pitou found Catherine fainted on the high road. When she revived on the farm, it was to be in a fever, and she raved of some one riding away whom the doctor judged to be Isidore Charny.

The greatest need to a brain-stricken invalid is calm. To learn about her lover would best calm Catherine, and she would ask the news of their friend, Pitou.

On seeing the good effect of the bleeding, the doctor stationed Mother Clement by her side, with the strange recommendation for her to get some sleep, and beckoned Pitou to follow him into the kitchen.

Her forehead was swathed in a wet bandage, her eyes were wandering and her face flushed with fever. Amongst the incoherent words, the farmer thought he could distinguish the name of Isidore.

“I see that it is good time that I came home,” he muttered.

He went forth, and was followed by Pitou, but Dr. Raynal detained the latter.

“I want you my lad,” he said, “to help Mother Clement hold the patient while I bleed her for the third time.”

“The third time?” cried Mrs. Billet, awaking from her dulness. “Do you hear that, my man, they bleed her for the third time.”

“Woman, this would not have happened had you looked after your daughter closer,” said the farmer in a stern voice.

He went to his room, from which he had been absent three months while Pitou entered the sick room.

Pitou was astonished but he would have felt more so if he had guessed that the doctor called him in as a moral remedy.

The doctor had noticed two names as used by the girl in her frenzy, Ange Pitou and Isidore Charny, and he soon distinguished that one was a friend’s and the other a dearer one. He concluded that Pitou was the lovers’ confidant and that there would be no inconvenience in the gallant’s friend being there to speak with the patient on the mutual acquaintance.