Joseph Balsamo (59 page)

” What can I do ? The orders of the superior are positive.”

11 My sister, I have to reveal to your abbess ma rs of the highest importance.”

“Keturn to-morrow.”

” It is impossible. I have stayed one day in Paris, and already during that day besides, I cannot sleep at an inn.”

” Why so ? “

” Because I have no money.”

The man gazed in amazement at this woman, covered with jewels, and mistress of a fine horse, who pretended that she had no money to pay for a night’s lodging.

” Oh, do not heed my words ! Do not examine my dress ! ” said the young woman. ” Perhaps I did not speak the precise truth when I said I had no money, for no doubt I could obtain credit in any inn. But what I want is not a lodging, but a refuge.”

4:44: JOSEPH BALSAMO.

” Madame, this is not the only couvent in St. Denis, and each convent has an abbess. “

” Yes, yes, I know that well ; but it is not a common abbess who can protect me.”

” I think you are wrong in persisting thus. The Princess Louise no longer takes any interest in affairs of this world.”

“What matters it to you? Only just tell her that I wish to speak to her.”

” She is holding a chapter, I tell you.”

” After it is over, then.”

” It has scarcely begun.”

” I can go into the church and wait there in prayer.”

” I am sorry, madame, that I cannot permit you to wait there.”

” Oh, then I am mistaken ! I am not in the house of God ! ” cried the stranger, with such vehemence of voice and look that the nun, alarmed, dared no longer oppose her wishes.

” If you be really in great distress,” said she, ” I shall try what I can do.”

” Oh, tell her royal highness,” added the foreigner, ” that I come from Koine, that I have made only two halts on the road, one at Mayence, the other at Strasbourg ; that during the last four days I have only taken the time absolutely necessary for myself and my horse to regain strength to continue our journey.”

” I shall tell her, sister ” and the nun hastened off.

A moment after, a lay sister appeared, followed by the portress.

“Well?” exclaimed the stranger, impatient to know what reply had been sent.

” Her royal highness says, madame,” replied the lay sister, ” it is quite impossible to give you an audience this evening , but that, nevertheless, the hospitality of the convent shall be extended to you, since you are in such urgent want of an asylum. You may follow me, therefore, sister, and if yon have made so long a journey as you say, and are fatigued, you can retire to rest at once.”

“But my horse:’

JOSEPH BALSAMO. 445

“Rest assured he shall be taken care of, my sister.”

” He is as gentle as a lamb. He is called Djerid, and comes when addressed by that name. I entreat you will take care of him, for he is a most valuable animal.”

“He shall be treated as if he were one of the king’s horses.”

” Thanks.”

“In the meantime, conduct madameto her apartment,” said the lay sister to the portress.

” Not to my apartment to the church. I do not require sleep, but prayer.”

“The chapel is open, my sister,” said the nun, pointing to a little side-door which gave admittance to the church.

‘ ‘ And I shall see the superior in the morning ? ” asked the stranger.

“To-morrow morning ? That is also impossible.”

” Why so ? “

” Because to-morrow morning there will be a grand reception.”

” And for whom can a reception be more necessary than for an unfortunate like me ? “

” Her royal highness the dauphiness will do us the honor to spend two hours here on her way through town to-morrow. It is a great honor for our convent, and a high solemnity for us poor nuns ; so that, you understand, the abbess is most anxious that everything should be worthy of the royal guests we expect.”

” But in the meantime,” said the stranger, looking around with a shudder, ” while I wait the leisure of your august superior, shall I be in safety here ? “

” Undoubtedly, my sister. Our house is a refuge even for the guilty, much more for “

“For fugitives ‘ said the stranger. “It is well ; then no one can enter here ? “

“No one that is, iot without an order.”

” Oh, but if he procures an order ! Good heavens ! He who is so powerful that his power at times terrifies me.”

” He who ? ” asked the nun.

446 JOSEPH BALSAMO.

“Oh, no one no one.”

” The poor creature is deranged, I fear ‘ murmured the nun to herself.

” The church ! the church ! ” repeated the stranger, so wildly as in some degree to justify this suspicion.

” Come, my sister, let me lead you to it.”

” Yes, yes ; I am pursued, look you. Quick ! the church ! “

” Oh, the walls of St. Denis are strong,” said the nun, with a compassionate smile. ” Believe me, after such a journey as you have described, you had much better go and rest in a good bed than bruise your knees on the stones of our chapel:”

“No, no ; I wish to pray I wish to pray that God will rescue me from my pursuers ! ” cried the young woman, hurriedly entering the church by the door which the nun pointed out, and shutting the door behind her.

The nun, curious as all nuns are, hastened round to the principal entrance, and, advancing softly, saw the unknown praying and sobbing before the altar, her face bowed to the ground.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

PARISIANS.

THE nuns had informed the stranger correctly, when they told her that the chapter of the convent was assembled in conclave.
Mme.
Louise of France presided at the meeting, her first exercise of supreme authority, and assisted in their deliberation as to the best means of giving the daughter of the Caesars a reception worthy of her august character and station.

The funds of the convent were rather low. The late abbess, on resigning her functions, had carried away with her a large portion of the lace, which was her private property, as well as the reliquaries and ostensoirs, which

JOSEPH BALSAMO. 447

it was the practise of superiors, who were all taken from the highest families, to lend to their convents on devoting themselves to the service of God, from the most worldly motives.

Mme.
Louise, on learning the intended visit of the dauphiness, had sent an express to Versailles, and the same night a wagon had arrived loaded with hangings, lace, and ornaments, to the value of six hundred thousand livres.

Consequently, when the tidings were spread of the royal splendor, which was to be exhibited at the reception of the dauphiness, all the ardent curiosity of the Parisians was redoubled those same Parisians whom Mercier describes as provoking only a smile when seen in private life, but when, assembled in masses, arousing reflections more calculated to make us weep and tremble.

Therefore, from earliest dawn, the citizens of the capital, having learned from public report the route which the dauphiness was to take, began to issue from their dens, and at first, in parties of ten or twenty, then in hundreds, and finally in thousands, poured out toward St. Denis.

The French and Swiss guards, the regiments stationed at St. Denis, were under arms, and formed a line on each side of the road to keep back the waves of the living tide which rolled on toward the gates of the cathedral, and mounted even to the sculptured projections of the building. A sea of heads appeared everywhere, children’s peeping from above the porches of doors, men’s and women’s thronging the windows. Besides these, thousands of curious spectators, who had arrived too late to secure places, or who, like Gilbert, preferred their liberty to the con-straint and inconvenience of being shut up during the whole day in one spot, swarmed like ants on every side, climbing the trees which bordered the road from St. Denis to Muette, or dispersed here and there waiting for the procession.

The cortege, although still possessing a numerous train of sumptuous equipages, and troops of domestics in splendid liveries, had considerably diminished after leaving Compiegne ; for, except for the great lords, it was found im-

44:8 JOSEPH BALSAMO.

possible to keep pace with the king, who doubled and trebled the usual stages by means of relays posted on the road.

Those of lesser note had, therefore, remained at Com-pidgne, or had taken post-horses and returned to Paris to give their stud a breathing interval. But after a day’s repose at their own domiciles, masters and domestics now thronged toward St. Denis, both to witness the preparations, and to get another glimpse of the dauphiness, whom they had already only partially seen. And then, besides the court carriages, were there not those of the parliament, the financiers, the rich merchants, the ladies of fashion, and those of the opera ? Were there not, in addition, hired horses and carriages, as well as the caravans, which rolled toward St. Denis, crammed with the good citizens of Paris, both male and female, who managed to arrive by this means somewhat later than they could have accomplished the distance on foot ? It may easily be imagined, therefore, what a formidable army directed its march toward St. Denis on the morning of the day when the gazettes and placards announced that the dauphiness was to arrive, forming into a dense mass before the convent of the Carmelites, and, when no more room could be obtained within the privileged inclosure, stretching away in long lines on the roads by which the dauphiness and her suite were to arrive and depart.

Now, let any one picture to himself in this crowd, which was the terror even of the Parisian, Gilbert, insignificant in appearance, alone, undecided, ignorant of the localities, and too proud even to ask a question for since he was in Paris he had determined to pass for a Parisian he who had never seen a hundred people assembled together in his life.

At first he saw pedestrians thinly scattered along the road ; at La Chapelle they began to increase, and at St. Denis they seemed to rise out of the ground, and presented much the appearance of an immense field bristling with ears of corn. For a long time past Gilbert had seen nothing, lost as he was in the crowd ; he could not look over

JOSEPH BALSAMO. 449

the heads of those arouiid him, and, swept along in the throng, he blindly followed where the concourse of spectators led him.

At last he saw some spectators perched on a tree, and longed to imitate their example, but he dared not take off his coat. He made his way, however, to the foot of the tree, just as one of those unfortunates, who, like himself, were deprived of all view of the horizon, and who staggered onward, trampling others and being trampled on themselves, was struck by the bright idea of questioning their lucky neighbors perched in safety on the branches, and learned from one of them that there was a large space vacant between the convent and the guards. Gilbert, emboldened by this intelligence, ventured, in his turn, to ask whether the carriages were yet in sight.

They had not yet appeared ; but on the road, about a quarter of a league beyond St. Denis, a great cloud of dust was plainly visible. This was what Gilbert wished to know ; the carriages not being in sight, it was now his business to ascertain precisely by what route they would approach ; but nevertheless he held on his way, traversing the crowd in perfect silence a mode of procedure which, in Paris, leads irresistibly to the conclusion that the person practising it is either an Englishman or deaf and dumb.

Scarcely had Gilbert extricated himself from the multitude, when he perceived, seated behind a ditch, the family of an humble tradesman at breakfast.

There was a blue-eyed daughter, tall and fair, modest and timid.

There was the mother, a fat, laughing little woman, with white teeth and rosy cheeks.

There was an aunt, tall, bony, dry, and harsh.

There was the father, half buried in an immense camlet coat, which was usually brought out of his chest only on Sundays, but which he ventured to put on on so grand an occasion as the present, and of which he took more care then he did of his wife and daughter, being certain that the latter could take care of themselves.

450 JOSEPH BALSAMO.

There was the servant-maid, who did nothing but laugh. She carried an enormous basket containing everything necessary for breakfast, and even under its weight the stout lass had never ceased laughing and singing, encouraged as she was by her master, who took the burden when she was fatigued.

In those days a domestic was one of the family, and oc- . cupied a position in it very analogous to that of the house-dog, beaten sometimes, excluded never.

Gilbert contemplated by stealth this group which was so new to him. Shut up at Taverney from his birth, he had hitherto seen only the lord and the lackey ; the citizen was altogether a novelty to him.

He saw these honest people employ in their domestic economy a system of philosophy, which, although not drawn from the teachings of Plato and Socrates, was modeled much after that of Bias, a little extended.

They had brought with them as much food as they possibly could, and were determined to make the most of it.

The father was carving one of those appetizing pieces of roast veal so much in vogue with the Parisian tradesman. Nicely browned, dainty, and tempting, it reposed amid a bed of carrots, onions, and bacon, in the dish in which the day before it had been baked, carefully placed there by the good housekeeper. The maid had then carried it to the baker, who, while baking his loaves, had given it an asylum in his oven along with a score of such dishes destined to assist the enjoyments of the following day.

Gilbert chose out a place for himself at the foot of a neighboring elm, and dusted it carefully with his checked pocket-handkerchief. He then took off his hat, spread his handkerchief on tho ground, and seated himself. He paid no attention to his neighbors, which, they remarking, naturally directed a good deal of their own to him.

“That is a careful young man,” said the mother.

The daughter blushed. She always did so when a young man was mentioned before her, a trait in her character which gave the highest gratification to her parents.