Henry MacMahon

“ On this day of our characters’ trial, the side benches and balconies of the great hall quickly fill with the howling, leering mobs––the fierce and grotesque chorus of the grim tragedy.
Interspersed with the rabid Jacobins are other––less partisan––spectators, and among the hurrying throngs a close observer might have noticed the luckless Pierre Frochard and the blind girl Louise entering. They found seats on a front bench.
“The judges are taking their places now,” said Pierre. “You will soon hear the trials. Over on their right sits Robespierre, the dictator of France!” ”

“ In this storm-wracked world Jacques-Forget-Not is now a great judge and a most fanatical patriot. The avenger of the de Vaudreys heads the Revolutionary Tribunal. He is in his glory now, for the aristocrats that the mobs overlooked are sent in batches to the guillotine––on the most 134 trifling charges, or finally without accusation at all. The mere fact of being an aristocrat is a capital offence! ”

“ I tell you I will kill anyone who interferes with me!”
La Frochard tried to throw herself between the brothers. Louise groped away, and as by instinct found refuge behind Pierre. Jacques pushed the hag aside, saying savagely: “Let me look after this!”
Each brother stripped off his coat, holding it as a buckler whilst the right hand gripped a knife.
“You are right, Jacques,” said the frenzied cripple. “We Frochards come of a race that kills!” ”

“ I can do nothing,” he said. “Mais, is it not that there are learned faculties in Paris––men skilled in chirurgery even to the taking off of cataracts and the restoration of sight? Of a truth, yes! En avant, mes enfants! Let Monsieur Martin, your ancient cousin in Paris, have the care of you whilst the chirurgeons exert their skill––presto! if all goes well, the little one shall yet see!”
Henriette’s heart thumped with joy o’er the cheering prospect. She kissed and fondled Louise and even teased her. ”

“ Their speculations were cut short by the entry of a squad of troopers literally dragging tiny Henriette Girard within the prison walls. Cold and unfeeling at best, these men had no sympathy with their young charge whom they naturally believed to be one of the harpies or half-wits caught in the police dragnet. They thrust her mid the crowd in the courtyard and departed. The great iron doors clanged shut. The gatekeeper turned the massive key. Henriette––without a friend in the world to appeal to––was an inmate of dread La Salpetriere! ”

“ The old woman gets up. She changes her tone to a whine, and tries to pat Henriette in pretended sympathy. “Well, if you must know the truth––”
“Yes, yes,” cries Henriette, “go on!”
“––she was with us, but alas!––poor thing––with the hard life we have to lead––she––she died!”
The searcher for Louise reels as if about to faint.
She collects herself with difficulty, and stares at La Frochard. A distraught look is on the girl’s face.
It is a look of utter misery, compounded with mistrustfulness of the deceiving hag. ”

“ The barred gates and the opposing fighters threaten to dash Danton’s every hope of saving by reprieve his “dear one of treasured memory.” Indeed, as we have seen, but for frenzied Pierre’s maniacal slaughter of the headsman, the fatal blow would now be falling! Neither Danton nor his men, of course, know that. Theirs to struggle on, to confront and conquer fortune, never to despair! Within those iron souls is no such thought as “Defeat.” ”

“ The Judge turns the pages of his book in studied indifference.
“Please––my sister––we have just met after a long time––she––she is blind!” The little voice breaks off in sobs.
The idea strikes her that, if they can only see the helpless creature, they will have pity. She calls:
“Louise, stand up––they want to see you!”
The cripple Pierre aids Louise to her feet. She stands there alone, a picture of abject misery.
“You see!” cries Henriette. “Blind––no one to care for her!”
The dandified dictator of France fixes fishy eyes on the little person in the dock. ”

“ At their head gallops Danton, the Thunderer of old, thundering at the officials, waving in his free hand a State paper!
In front of the death machine he halts and dismounts––then taking the steps in two bounds, puts the reprieve of Henriette and Maurice in the hands of the master of ceremonial!
The Savior of France––the Organizer of Victory––brings such a show of power at his back and compels such respect that none dare question him. He strides to the guillotine, bades the trembling executioner release Henriette––himself personally unstraps her from the death board. ”

“ Danton, the thunderer of mighty speech, dominated these gatherings, aided and abetted by the eagle-like Desmoulins and the crafty Robespierre.
“With the People’s government,” his swelling periods resounded, “there shall be no common man, no aristocrat––no rich nor poor––but all brothers––brothers––brothers!” Imagine if you can the fire-drama of his recital of generations of cruelties and wrongs––his picture of their miserable lot and of the envied aristocrats’ pleasures––and 60 then consider the pitch of frenzied republicanism to which this wonderful fraternal climax uplifted them! ”

“ Two of the clan found our hiding-place and slew my husband, then took my baby Louise from my helpless arms. I was brought back to the chateau and given in marriage to you, after threats of death if I should ever divulge the secret! Twenty years after, I saw my daughter as Louise the blind singer––the girl Henriette, whom you sent to Salpetriere, is her foster-sister. Oh, forgive, forgive––put me away if you wish, but consider what I have suffered!...”
The strong man, whom neither the fate of Maurice nor of Henriette had melted, was crying. ”

“ At the end of dreadful imprisonments, looms for the hapless pair the dread Scaffold....
A real Republic teeters for a short period on the crest of the Revolutionary wave. Men are mad with the joy over the new thought of universal brotherhood. Little do Danton and the other Utopians realize that the Pageant of Brotherhood is but the prelude of a new Despotism.
For a dark ring of foes––spurred to invasion by the King’s misfortunes––surrounds France on every side. Within, the cry re-echoes: “The traitors to the prisons!” and all the aristocrats as yet at large are hunted down and put in durance. ”

“ There dawned happier days wherein justice bore sway, and little gardens of flowers and love and happiness again sprang up and flourished. Among these blooming gardens let us seek the refuge of Count and Countess de Linieres after the Storm has abated and the kinsfolk it has sundered are united. The sisters of our story are their especial care, daughter and foster-daughter of the exquisite chatelaine.
Young Maurice de Vaudrey is their pride. The old gentleman has reconciled himself to the passing of the Ancient Regime, and through his nephew’s good office has made his peace with the State. ”

“ Really, Henriette hadn’t told her half enough! She clasps her sister with one hand, Maurice with the other, cries: “YES!”
We may leave our hero and heroine there––as Louise and the oldsters presently left them––to taste the exquisite happiness of mutual love. For Love is stronger than Death, and must prevail. And the kisses of Maurice and Henriette blotted out all the wrack and nightmare of the “Orphans of the Storm!” ”

“ Henriette was overjoyed even with this slender resource, and warmly thanked them. At once her busy little brain laid plans for invading the lair of the Frochards. And then––a most unexpected ray in the darkness––arrived at Salpetriere the quaint valet Picard and brought her comfort too.
No longer a spy for the Count, he had been converted from base suspicion by the Chevalier’s honorable suit and the exile the latter had suffered. He now delivered this little message from his master at Caen:
Dearest, never will I marry anyone but you, my heart’s desire! ”

“ But the bold nymphs were clinging, not to be “shaken”; as the mad whirl of the dancers touched the centre, the troopers and their female captors were borne away in the ricocheting, plunging motions, disappearing thenceforward from our story. Little Henriette dived to a place of safety, the side wall of the nearest building. Straightening herself after the unexpected knocks and bruises, she looked aghast at the scene before her.
Whole streets of them, plazas of them, these endlessly gyrating male and female loons; swirls of gayety, twisting, upsetting passers-by like a cyclone ”

“ The ex-retainer nicknamed “Forget-Not” bore a baleful grudge because of the cruelties inflicted on his own father many years before by the Countess’s father––the cruel punishment of pouring boiling lead into the unfortunate tenant’s veins: a procedure on which the boy Chevalier had been taught to look approvingly.
In fact ever since the elder Jean Setain displeased the then Seigneur of the de Vaudrey estate, the affairs of the tenant family had gone to wrack and ruin until the middle-aged son was little more than a landless beggar and an embodied voice calling for vengeance. ”

“ De Vaudrey smiled fleetingly, then half-serious, half-smiling, raised a hand in polite protest. Two fair ones carried him off eagerly to retail to the distinguished visitor a morsel of gossip.
“The Marquis has made another conquest!” whispered one to him behind her fan, to which the other added: “Yes, he found a marvelously beautiful Norman peasant journeying to Paris in a stage coach, so he had La Fleur take her and fetch her here––a mere rustic, to outvie us all!”
“Yes, ’twill be good sport,” replied the cynic. “These country girls that his excellency abducts are willing victims.” ”

“ But within a few miles of Paris a whiffletree broke, the ungainly vehicle stopped, and the men jumped off to hold the horses and repair the damage. Henriette and Louise soon left the hard seats for a few minutes too.
Down the other side of the narrow turn of the road where the accident had occurred, thundered the beautiful carved and gilded chaise of a famous nobleman, Marquis de Praille, accompanied by gallant outriders and backed by liveried footmen on the high rear seats. Inside the equipage were the Marquis and his commissionaire La Fleur. ”

“ Henriette managed to find her way to two sansculotte troopers stationed in the centre of the Place, to whom she told her story. Reasonable fellows they seemed, offering to conduct her presently to the new 115 authorities and get a search warrant for the Frochard clan. But the madder swirl of the Carmagnole came along, and presto! swallowed them up. It happened on this wise:
As the locust swarms of the dancers enveloped them in shortening circles, two young and attractive maenads broke from the throng and literally entwined themselves with the troopers. ”

“ As England had her Botany Bay, so France had Louisiana. Let us take a glance at La Salpetriere (as Henriette is being dragged there by Count de Linieres’ troopers) to look at the sights and scenes of the famous female prison, and contemplate what the inmates had in store.
There was no interesting toil to relieve their unhappy lot, and no distinction was made of the insane, the law-breaking criminal, and the wretched streetwalker or demimondaine. In the courtyard, during the exercise periods, the only talk was of the terms of imprisonment and of the chances of Louisiana. ”

“ Not long after, the rival masters of France faced one another in the hall of the Revolutionary Tribunal, whereof Jacques-Forget-Not was President.
“Well works this Tribunal you established, Danton!” said Robespierre, in glee at the increasing number of executions.
“It was established,” replied the pock-marked man solemnly, “to punish the enemies of the people. Now through you––Robespierre––France rivers with innocent blood!”
... God help our hero and heroine if they should encounter its dread fury! ”

“ Around the banqueting tables a number of ladies and gentlemen were seated, some still toying with the savory viands and drinking rare vintages of Champagne, whilst others idly watched the dancers or discussed the latest court news and high life scandal.
“Well, what do you think of my retreat from the whirl and bustle of Paris?” asked Marquis de Praille of his vis-a-vis, who was a dashing sort of beauty.
“My dear Marquis,” replied that lady, “I am delighted. It is a satisfaction to find a gentleman who maintains the customs of his rank.” ”

“ But the big man again had thrown the blind girl off, and the fellows, having tied the black cloth, lifted Henriette between them and carried her into a waiting fiacre.
“We’ve got her safe now, La Fleur,” said the kidnappers.
“Drive your hardest to Bel-Air, the Marquis’s fete begins at nine o’clock!” said the villain addressed, who was none other than the famous nobleman’s pander....
What cared the Marquis and La Fleur about the blind one’s misfortunes. As La Fleur had said:
“Never fear––blindness is ever a good stock in trade. She’ll find her career––in the streets of Paris!” ”

“ Resistlessly the troopers keep their careering course––the talk and gestures are but as the East Wind to tensed Danton, stern-set Captain, and the rest.
Forget-Not’s tribe escape the deadly horse hoofs by quick side jumps.
Within the next few minutes––even while the head executioner is making the little victim ready––Danton and his riders reach the barrier on the Guillotine side of Paris. Orders had already been received to close the gates at the cavalry’s approach.
“Quick! there is not a moment to lose,” yells the Jacobin commander as he sights the oncoming host. ”

“ Henriette opens the trap-door of the cellar where the Frochards lodged, and peers within. Courageously she goes down the steps. Sympathy and horror struggle in the thought of Louise being an inmate of this foul place.
What is her disgust then to encounter the wart-faced and moustachioed hag who is its proprietor! Quickly Henriette tells La Frochard of her information, and demands Louise.
“I don’t know any such person,” the hag lies, with ready effrontery. “You must be mistaken!” ”