The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 2 (of 3) — John Shaqi
The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 2 (of 3)Wingfield, Lewis
History
The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 2 (of 3)
Wingfield, Lewis
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
To visit the palace was to be distracted with indignant pity. Though
the son of St. Louis still ate off silver plate, the most elaborate
precautions were taken to secure him against poison. The wine he
drank, the food he ate, was introduced secretly by devoted friends.
Not a scrap passed his lips that was supplied from the royal kitchens.
Things had gone so far that there was no safety--as the hapless king
had realized on the eve of the Varennes disaster--but in flight. His
friends in Paris could be of little service, for he was as close a
prisoner in the gilded Tuileries as the felon in his cell--in a worse
plight than the convicted assassin in his jail, whom the rabble were
forbidden to persecute.
Clovis could perceive as clearly now as Pharamond that so acute a
situation could not last. This was a state of crisis which should have
nearly attained its apogee, and which promised to result in
catastrophe. And here was the Gange family lingering on in the most
undesirable manner instead of making itself scarce, and skipping out
of danger. As we know, Clovis was not too brave, and preferred
scientific to military triumphs. If other nobles viewed the situation
from a long way off, why should not he also? What was it to him that
the continued outpouring of landholders had unhinged the public mind,
and that the exodus of those who should have rallied round their
monarch was indeed the greatest cause of the miseries that loomed
ahead? By deserting their native land at the most critical period of
its history, the French nobility cast a stain on their order, which
may never be wiped out. At this time, no less than a hundred thousand
of the most influential class had turned their backs upon their
country!
The marquis exhorted and implored his brother to speak to Gabrielle,
to beg her to be sensible and go, before it was too late. With perfect
truth (for once) Pharamond declared that he had done his best--that
Gabrielle was obstinate and declined to budge--adding, with a
conciliatory smile, that Clovis must practise the unruffled calm that
springs from a tranquil mind; that when the new-blown prerogative of
managing people was more familiar to the heiress, she would be less
headstrong, more considerate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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