In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster BoyHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"Poor young man," the woman said compassionately, seeing the ghastly
pallor of his face, "but I pity you. The street is furious that
these wretches should have carried off that sweet young creature,
who was so good to everyone; but what could we do? We hissed the men,
and we would have pelted them had we not been afraid of striking
your sisters. When they had gone La Mere Pichon said to some of
us, 'The best thing we can do for that angel is to save her brother
from being caught also. So do one of you post yourself on each
road leading to the house, and warn him in time. He generally walks
beyond the town. I heard one of his sisters say so.' So some of
us came out on all the roads, and two remained, one at each end of
the street, in case we should miss you. La Mere said, whoever met
you was to tell you to be on this road, by the river, just outside
the town, after dark, and she would bring you some clothes, and
take you where you would be safe; but till then you were to go away
again, and keep far from the town. Do you understand?" she asked,
laying her hand on his arm, for he seemed dazed and stupid with
the shock he had received.
"I understand," he said in a low voice. "Thank you all for your
warning. Yes, I will be here this evening."
So saying he turned and moved away, walking unsteadily as if he
were drunk. The woman looked after him pityingly, and then, shaking
her head and muttering execrations against the "Reds," she made
her way home to tell Mere Pichon that she had fulfilled her mission.
Harry walked on slowly until some distance from the town, and then
threw himself down on a bank by the road and lay for a time silent
and despairing. At last tears came to his relief, and his broad
shoulders shook with a passion of sobbing to think that just at
the moment when a chance of escape was opened--just when all the
dangers seemed nearly past--the girls should have fallen into
the hands of the enemy, and he not there to strike a blow in their
defence. To think of Jeanne--his bright, fearless Jeanne--and
clinging little Virginie, in the hands of these human tigers. It
was maddening! But after a time the passion of weeping calmed down,
and Harry sat up suddenly.
"I am a fool," he said as he rose to his feet; "a nice sort of fellow
for a protector, lying here crying like a girl when I had begun to
fancy I was a man; wasting my time here when I know the only hope
for the girls is for me to keep myself free to help them. I need
not lose all hope yet. After Marie has been saved, why shouldn't
I save my Jeanne? I am better off than I was then, for we have
friends who will help. These women whose hearts Jeanne has won will
aid if they can, and may get some of their husbands and brothers
to aid. The battle is not lost yet, and Jeanne will know I shall
move heaven and earth to save her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account