The Devil on Horseback (45 page)

“Joel,” I added, ‘you must not take part in this. “

“I’m afraid,” Leon pointed out, “I was counting on your help.”

“If you are in it, Minella, of course I shall be with you,” said Joel firmly.

“Let us hear what is expected of us.”

“As I said,” went on Leon, ‘my brother is one of the leaders of the revolution. He is known and respected by the people throughout France.

Some are afraid of him for his ruthlessness, and he would spare none who worked against the revolution. You did not know the difference between us when you saw him in the mob. You thought you saw me on the night of the ball when he was the one you saw. If my brother went to the Cone’erger’e and demanded co se-ie’ll ‘on i. he walked out with him to take him to another prison, he could do so,” I began to see what he was leading to.

“Are you saying you would go to the Conciergerie and impersonate your brother?”

“I could attempt it. I know his mannerisms, his walk, his voice. I can mutate them. Whether I should succeed is another matter.

If we are caught I warn you we should be taken by the mob and torn to pieces. It would not be a pleasant ending to our adventure. “

“Why are you proposing to do this?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. Today, one lives dangerously. You see me . between two worlds. I am of the people but by the nature of my upbringing I am on the other side. I am trusted by neither . as you have shown me. I have to come down on one side or the other and I have always had a weakness for lost causes. I am a man of some feeling. The Comte was as a father to me . oh, a remote sort of father . far far above me, rarely deigning to notice me. But I was proud to be his protege. I looked up to him. I used to promise myself that I would be like him. He is the sort of man I should most like to be. I cannot bear to think of such talents being destroyed. My motives are mixed.

All my life I have been told: “Do this, do that. It is the wish of the Comte.” Now I shall have the opportunity of going to the Comte and saying: “Do this. I, Leon, your peasant protege have it in my power to save your life.” Think of the satisfaction. There is another point-I have a fondness for him . and for you. Mademoiselle Minelle. I suspected Etienne and I cursed myself for not being there to save you.

But here is my opportunity. “

“Are you quite sure you want to take it?”

“I am completely sure. Listen. I shall go into the prison. I shall wear a cloak such as my brother wears. I shall sport the red cap. I shall talk in his voice, mutate his limp, which I can do so that none will know the difference between us. I shall say that the day for the execution of the Comte is fixed and it is to be a day of great rejoicing. We shall make it symbolic of the revolution. For this reason the Comte is not to leave from the Conciergerie as so many have done. He will go to another prison as yet to be secret and it will be the task of Jean Pierre Bourron-my brother-to take him to that secret place. I shall have my cabriolet waiting outside.” He turned to Joel.

“You will be my driver. As soon as we are in it you will drive with all speed. You, Minelle, will be waiting at the Quai de la Megisserie where we shall pick you up and then ride on with you as quickly as we can. On the edge of the city I shall have arranged for a fiacre with fresh horses.

Then. you will ride on t Grasseville where you can continue your journey to the coast. “

“It sounds as though it might work,” said Joel.

“It will need very careful planning.”

“You may rest assured that I have given my deepest thought to this.

Are you prepared to join me? “

I looked at Joel. What were we asking of him? He had come to France to take me home, to offer me marriage, and now we were suggesting that he should risk his life and perhaps face a terrible death-in order that I might find a future with another man.

But he was Joel and he did not hesitate as I knew he would not. I could almost hear my mother: “You see how right I was. He would be such a good husband to you.”

“Of course we must save the Comte,” said Joel. And I loved him for his calm reconciliation to whatever fate had to offer him. He was admirable, I knew, as the Comte could never be. But how perverse are our emotions!

Then,” said Leon, ‘let us get down to the details. If this is to work everything must go right all the way through. Not until you are on English soil will you be safe.”

All that night we were together . the three of us. Every detail was discussed over and over again. Leon reminded us once more of the risks we were running and impressed on us that only if we were prepared to consider the terrible cost of failure should we undertake this task.

Could it succeed?

T hpd watched them leave in the cabriolet, Joel disguised as the driver, Leon wrapped in the kind of clothes his brother favoured, the red cap on his head.

When they had left I went to take up my place at the Quai de la Megisserie.

There were many people in the streets as night came but we dared not attempt our rescue by day. I had tried to look like an old woman. My hair was completely hidden by my hood and I bent my back as I shuffled along the streets. They were terrifying, those streets by night. One could ever be sure when one would be confronted by some horrible sight. The shops were barricaded. Many of them had been looted.

Fires would spring up anywhere at any time. One would meet gangs of children singing (yd Ira.

Paris was the last place one should be in if one did not belong to it.

Perhaps this would be my last night here. It must be. I refused to contemplate failure.

How long the waiting seemed! I must be ready. I had been told to be there to step immediately into the cabriolet as it came along beside me. If it did not come in an hour, I was to make my way to our lodging in the Rue Saint-Jacques and wait there. If I heard nothing by the morning I was to leave Paris and make my way to Grasseville, where Margot and Robert would be waiting tor me to leave for England.

Never, never can I forget those fearful moments when I stood there in the heart of revolutionary Paris. I could smell the blood in the streets and the bodies in the river. I heard a clock strike nine and I knew that if they had succeeded, they must be on their way.

How cruel is the imagination! I was tormented by my own speculations.

I visualized a thousand horrors and it seemed to me as I stood there that our plan could not succeed. It was certain to be discovered. It was too wild. It was too dangerous.

I waited and waited. If they did not come soon I must make my way back to the Rue Saint-Jacques.

A leering man accosted me. I hurried away, but feared to go far. A crowd of students came marching down the road. If the cabriolet came now they might try to impede its progress.

“Oh God,” I prayed.

“Let this succeed. I would give anything I have to see his face again.”

The sound of wheels. It was the cabriolet, driving furiously towards me.

Leon stepped out and helped me in.

I looked at my love. His hands were manacled. His face was pale and there was a streak of blood on his left cheek. But he was smiling at me. That was enough. I felt I had never been so happy in my life-nor ever could be more so than I was at that moment on the Quai de la Megisserie.

AND AFTER

We made our escape. Leon left us once we were out of the city. He drove the cabriolet back into Paris.

Joel, the Comte and I went on to Grasseville where Robert and Margot were waiting for us. We were in England within a few days, where I became the Comtesse Fontaine Delibes. My husband was very ill and it was some weeks before I nursed him back to health. The Derringhams were very good friends to us.

Charles Auguste-it seemed odd at first to use that name and I never really became accustomed to calling him anything but The Comte in my thoughts-was no longer a rich and powerful man, but he was not penniless. He had money in various parts of the world and we could live comfortably enough, which we did on a small estate not far from the Derringhams. My husband was born to be a squire and it was not long before the estate began to prosper. By the time our first child was born-a son-we had added considerably to our land.

He had changed very little. He was still arrogant, overbearing, unpredictable, but after all, that was the man with whom I had fallen in love, so I would not have had him change. Life was not easy with him. I had not expected it to be. He used to talk vehemently of the rabble and I could see that his life in prison had left an indelible mark on him. He was bitter; he would never be completely content until he was back in France and had regained his estates. France was in his blood and he loved, his native land with an abiding passion. We quarrelled in a lighthearted way comparing our two countries, and he was always determined that one day we should go back.

Margot had another son and I was so happy that she, could give Rob. crt the reward he wanted most. Chariot was growing into a strong, healthy boy. I often wondered about his father and I heard later from one of the servants that he had gone north and was doing very well up there.

Joel never married. I felt conscience-stricken about Joel. He was so good and kind; and without him we could never have brought my husband out of the Conciergerie. I wished that he would marry and be very happy. He deserved the best.

We were very sad on the day the King of France was executed and when he was shortly followed to the scaffold by the Queen that seemed the end of the old way of life.

They will never prosper, these murderers,” said Charles Auguste.

“They will fail, ]ust as we failed. Then we shall go back to France and start again.”

I have changed a good deal, I believe. Charles Auguste says: “The schoolmistress has receded but she is ready to pop out now and then.

She will keep us in good order, I don’t doubt, until the end of our days. “

I am content, I have known great ecstasy and great fear-great joy and great sorrow. I suppose that is what life is , about.

My marriage has not been a bed of roses, as they say. We have quarrelled a great deal. Charles Auguste has an indomitable will and hates to be crossed; and I am a woman who could never suppress her own opinions if she thinks them to be right. It is inevitable that our lives should be stormy. It is what we both expect. But perhaps neither of us seeks the peaceful way, the essence of which is its uneventful tenor. It was the sort of life I should have had at Derringham and which my mother wanted for me.

When Charles Auguste went back to France for a brief visit to see what had happened to his estates, I did everything in my power to prevent his going. When he was adamant, I was determined to go with him. This he forbade, but I went all the same. I followed him, crossed on the same packet and when he came to the inn where he was to stay he found me there.

His fury was great. How violently we quarrelled! He had refused to take me with him because it might be dangerous. I had refused to stay for the same reason. That clash of wills! how often was it exercised. Sometimes he was the victor; sometimes I. I remember how we made love in that old inn at Calais after we had somehow laughed at our fury.

And After There could be no doubt that we were made for each other.

So the years passed.

The revolution was over, and those who had escaped started coming back. Leon distinguished himself in Napoleon’s army.

The new regime was no more successful than the old. There would always be men without possessions who wanted those of others, and envy, hatred, malice, indifference to others would prevail for ever, it seemed.

We went back to the chateau which was miraculously unscathed. What a thrill it was to mount those steps to the platform and look back . and back . Margot and Robert and their three children returned with Charles Auguste, myself and our two sons. And so life went on . uneasily sometimes. There was conflict between our two countries, for when the new France had risen from the ashes, she had sought to conquer the-world under the Corsican adventurer. We used to discuss, argue, rarely agreeing. I was for my country; he was for his.

Once he said to me: “Do you know, you ought to have married Joel Derringham. You would have agreed about everything. Just imagine how easy life would have been.”

“Do you really think I should have?” I asked.

He shook his head and looked at me in the mocking way which was so familiar to me now and which I had first seen when I had opened his bedroom door and was caught peering in.

“It would have been too dull for one of your temperament, too easy.

You would have become like hundreds of other ladies. You would have shrunk instead of expanding. You would have been charming and pleasant and inwardly bored. Have you ever been bored since you married me?

Come, tetl the truth. “

“No. But I have been exasperated. I have been furiously angry. I have asked myself why I stay with you.”

“And what was the answer to that all-important question?”

“The answer was that I only stayed with you because I should have been the most miserable woman on earth if ever I left you.”

He laughed, but as he drew me to him and held me fast he was suddenly tender.

“Rejoice,” he cried.

“At last we are in agreement.”