France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction
"Indeed, Monsieur, you may be, but I ’m not. Why, there was Julie de
Lérac, who escaped with her brother’s friend. It was when I was in
prison, and I heard what grandmamma and the other ladies said of her.
Nothing would induce me to be spoken of like that."
"But your life depends on it. Marguerite, don’t you trust me?"
"Why, of course; but that has nothing to do with it."
"But, my dearest child, what is to be done? You can’t stay here, and we
can’t be married here, so the only thing to be done is to get away, and
then we ’ll be married as soon as your father will allow it. My aunt
Judith’s money has come in the very nick of time, for now we ’ll be able
to go back to the old place. Ah, you ’ll love Ireland."
Marguerite tapped with her foot.
"Why can’t we be married now?" she said quickly.
Madelon, who had been listening in silence, started and looked up, but
did not speak.
"Impossible," said Mr. Desmond; and Aline whispered:
"My dear, you could n’t."
"Why not? There is a priest here."
"You could n’t trust him. He has taken the oath to the Convention,"
said Aline.
"Well but—Madelon, you told me of him; tell them what you said. Do you
think he would betray us?"
"How do I know?" said Madelon, with a frown. "I do not think so, but
one never knows. It is a risk."
"I don’t mind the risk."
"To us all," continued Madelon bluntly. "I am thinking of more than
you, little Ma’mselle."
"Who is this priest?" asked Desmond. "What do you know of him?"
"What I know is from my husband’s cousin, Anne Pinel, who is his
housekeeper. He took the oath, and ever since he has a trouble on his
mind, and walks at night, sometimes all night long. At first Anne would
get up and listen, and then she would hear groans and prayers, and once
he called out: ’Judas! Judas! Judas!’ so that she was frightened, and
went back to her bed and put her hands over her ears. Now she takes no
notice, she is so used to it."
"There!" cried Marguerite. "Poor man, if he can torment himself in such
a way he would not put a fresh burden on his conscience by betraying us.
Besides, why should he? I have a beautiful plan."
"Well?"
"We shall start at night; and first we will go to the priest’s house,
and I shall throw pebbles at his window. He will open, and I shall say,
’Mon père, here are two people who wish to be married.’
"Yes! and he ’d want to know why?"
"Of course, and I shall say, ’Mon père, we are escaping for our lives,
and we wish to be married because I am a jeune fille bien élevée, and my
grandmamma would turn in her grave at the thought of my crossing France
alone with ma fiancé; and then he will marry us, and we shall walk away
again, and go on walking until we can’t walk any more."
"Marguerite, what folly!" cried Aline, and Madelon nodded her head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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