Children and war -- Juvenile fiction; France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Juvenile fiction
“He told Marie Josephine, that baby, told her instead of me who am head
of my house, now that he has gone. What can you mean, Dian, when you say
that grandfather told Marie Josephine?”
Dian was reaching for his cloak which hung on a nail at one side of the
secret stairs as he answered quietly:
“The Comte Saint Frère thought that it was for the best. He said that
the Little Mademoiselle was the one of you who thought the most, the one
who cared for everyone and everything.” Dian turned and faced Lisle as
he went on, speaking tenderly. “It was not indeed that you were not his
dear beloved grandson. He had many hopes and dreams for you, only the
Little Mademoiselle dreamed, too. She was different.”
As he spoke, Dian climbed the first step of the stairs. “I’ll be gone
but a short time and we’ll have a good talk about it all when I come
back,” he said, and then he climbed up the stairs, opened the secret
panel, and, after sliding it back in place, went out through the cellar
into the soft spring dusk. He was sad at heart, for he knew that Lisle
was wounded in his pride, and that he was angry. It would not make
things easier to have him so. He knew that it would be as well to leave
him alone for a time, and he felt that it was the hour for him to pay a
visit to Vivi and Rosanne. More and more the conviction grew upon him
that Rosanne’s situation was now becoming perilous, and that he must
soon, at all costs, see that she was safely hidden in the secret cellar,
until such time as he could effect an escape for the comtesse.
He had seen Humphrey and had told him of Lisle’s escape and of his being
safe in the hidden cellar. He knew that he had done well in telling
Humphrey of the cellar, and one of the things he had decided to do next
was to show it to him and to tell him of the secret panel and how to
open it. Humphrey did not seem to realize his own danger, but Dian felt
that it was there. Humphrey was an alien enemy of the Republic. His
safety so far had lain largely in the fact of his being so typically a
farmer.
Surveillance was growing daily more strict. At any time both Humphrey
and Rosanne might be discovered. Dian was thinking of all this as he
walked through the crowded, unruly city, amid the sound of hammers on
anvils and the rumble of tumbrils carrying poor victims to the
guillotine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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