the trampling of the lilies-第9章
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much in France； as yet meant nothing。
La Boulaye inclined his head as if acknowledging an introduction；
then turned his attention to Duhamel who was offering him a cup of
wine。 He drank gratefully； and the invigorating effects were almost
instantaneous。
〃Now let us see to your hurts；〃 said the schoolmaster； who had taken
some linen and a pot of unguents from a cupboard。 La Boulaye sat
up； and what time Duhamel was busy dressing his lacerated back； the
young man talked with Robespierre。
〃You are going to Paris； you say； Monsieur？〃
〃Yes； to the States…General；〃 answered Maximilien。
〃As a deputy？〃 inquired Caron； with ever…heightening interest。
〃As a deputy； Monsieur。 My friends of Arras have elected me to the
Third Estate of Artois。〃
〃Dieu！ How I envy you！〃 exclaimed La Boulaye； to cry out a moment
later in the pain to which Duhamel's well…intentioned operations
were subjecting him。 〃I would it might be mine；〃 he added presently；
〃to take a hand in legislation； and the mending of it； for as it
stands at present it is inferior far to the lawless anarchy of the
aborigines。 Among them； at least； the conditions are more normal；
they offer better balance between faculty and execution； they are
by far more propitious to happiness and order than is this broken
wreck of civilisation that we call France。 It is to equality alone；〃
he continued； warming to his subject； 〃that Nature has attached the
preservation of our social faculties； and all legislation that aims
at being efficient should be directed to the establishment of
equality。 As it is； the rich will always prefer their own fortune
to that of the State； whilst the poor will never love … nor can
love … a condition of laws that leaves them in misery。〃
Robespierre eyed the young man in some surprise。 His delivery was
impassioned； and although in what he said there was perhaps nothing
that was fresh to the lawyer of Arras； yet the manner in which he
said it was impressive to a degree。
〃But Duhamel；〃 he cried to the schoolmaster； 〃you did not tell me
this young patriot was an orator。〃
〃Nor am I； Monsieur；〃 smiled La Boulaye。 〃I am but the mouthpiece
of the great Rousseau。 I have so assimilated his thoughts that they
come from me as spontaneously as if they were my own； and often I go
so far as to delude myself into believing that they are。〃
No better recommendation than this could he have had to the attention
of Robespierre； who was himself much in the same case； imbued with
and inspired by those doctrines； so ideal in theory； but； alas！ so
difficult； so impossible in practice。 For fully an hour they sat
and talked； and each improved in his liking of the other； until at
last； bethinking him of the flight of time； Robespierre announced
that he must start。
〃You will take him to Paris with you； Maximilien？〃 quoth the old
pedagogue。
〃Ma foi； yes； and if with such gifts as Nature appears to have given
him； and such cultivation of them as； through the teachings of
Rousseau； he has effected； I do not make something of him； why；
then； I am unworthy of the confidence my good friends of Arras
repose in me。〃
They made their adieux； and the schoolmaster； opening his door；
peered out。 The street was deserted save forte Robespierre's
berline and his impatient postillion。 Between them Duhamel and
Maximilien assisted Caron to the door of the carriage。 The moving
subjected him to an excruciating agony； but he caught his nether
lip in his teeth； and never allowed them to suspect it。 As they
raised him into the berline； however； he toppled forward； fainting。
Duhamel hastened indoors for a cordial； and brought also some
pillows with which to promote the young man's comfort on the
journey that was before him … or； rather； to lessen the discomfort
which the jolting was likely to occasion him。
Caron recovered before they started； and with tears in his eyes
he thanked old Duhamel and voiced a hope that they might meet again
ere long。
Then Robespierre jumped nimbly into the berline。 The door closed；
the postillion's whip cracked briskly； and they set out upon a
journey which to La Boulaye was to be as the passing from one
life to another。
PART II
THE NEW RULE
Allons！ Marchons！
Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillons！
La Marseillaise。
CHAPTER V
THE SHEEP TURNED WOLVES
There were roars of anger and screams of terror in the night； and
above the Chateau de Bellecour the inky blackness of the heavens
was broken by a dull red glow； which the distant wayfarer might
have mistaken for the roseate tint of dawn； were it possible for
the dawn to restrict itself to so narrow an area。
Ever and anon a tongue of flame would lick up into the night towards
that russet patch of sky； betraying the cause of it and proclaiming
that incendiaries were at work。 Above the ominous din that told of
the business afoot there came now and again the crack of a musket；
and dominating all other sounds was the sullen roar of the revolted
peasants； the risen serfs； the rebellious vassals of the Siegneur de
Bellecour。
For time has sped and has much altered in the speeding。 Four years
have gone by since the night on which the lacerated Caron la Boulaye
was smuggled out of Bellecour in Robespierre's berline and in that
four years much of the things that were prophesied have come to pass
… aye； and much more besides that was undreamt of at the outset by
the revolutionaries。 A gruesome engine that they facetiously called
the National Razor … invented and designed some years ago by one Dr。
Guillotin … is but an item in the changes that have been； yet an item
that in its way has become a very factor。 It stands not over…high；
yet the shadow of it has fallen athwart the whole length and breadth
of France； and in that shadow the tyrants have trembled； shaken to
the very souls of them by the rude hand of fear； in that shadow the
spurned and downtrodden children of the soil have taken heart of
grace。 The bonds of servile cowardice that for centuries had
trammelled them have been shaken off like cobwebs； and they that
were as sheep are now become the wolves that prey on those that
preyed on them for generations。
There is； in the whole of France； no corner so remote but that；
sooner or later； this great upheaval has penetrated to it。
Louis XVI。 … or Louis Capet； as he is now more generally spoken of
… has been arraigned； condemned and executed。 The aristocrats are
in full emigratory flight across the frontiers … those that have not
been rent by the vassals they had brought to bay； the people they
had outraged。 The Lilies of France lie trampled under foot in the
shambles they have made of that fair land； whilst overhead the
tricolour … that symbol of the new trinity； Liberty； Equality；
Fraternity … is flaunted in the breeze。
A few of the more proud and obstinate … so proud and obstinate as
to find it a thing incredible that the order should indeed change
and the old regime pass away … still remain； and by their vain
endeavours to lord it in their castles provoke such scenes as that
enacted at Bellecour in February of '93 （by the style of slaves）
or Pluviose of the year One of the French Republic； as it shall
presently come to be known in the annals of the Revolution。
Bellecour； the most arrogant of arrogants； had stood firm； and
desperately contrived through all these months of revolution to
maintain his dominion in his corner of Picardy。 But even he was
beginning to realise that the end was at hand； and he made his
preparations to emigrate。 Too proud； however； to permit his
emigration to savour of a flight； he carried the leisureliness of
his going to dangerous extremes。 And now； on the eve of departure；
he must needs pause to give a fete at once of farewell and in honour
of his daughter's betrothal to the Vicomte Anatole d'Ombreval。 This
very betrothal at so unpropitious a season was partly no more than
contrived by the Marquis that he might mark his ignoring and his
serene contempt of the upheaval and the new rule which it had
brought。
All that was left of the noblesse in Picardy had flocked that day
to the Chateau de Bellecour； an
