The False Chevalier - Part 41
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Part 41

"My G.o.d! is our parish reduced to eating earth?" exclaimed the oldest of the men. "What is to become of France? Heaven is against us."

"I came here before my children woke, because it pierces my heart to listen to their crying," the sabot-maker said dejectedly.

"Yet everybody knows there is so much good grain in the barns of the new Seigneur," the earth-eater said in a whining voice.

"While Monsieur the Chevalier lived none starved, at least," the old man said, his head bowed in despair upon the top of his staff. "What is to become of us now?"

"It is the fault of the bad people about our King," remarked the earth-eater.

Every syllable sank into Germain's heart, for _he_ was the new Seigneur.

A loud clattering sound as of some person running rapidly up the street arrested the conversation of the trio. A countryman, a clumsy, frowsy fellow, in a terrible fright, stopped under Germain's window out of breath and turned at bay on his pursuer. The pursuer, likewise out of breath, was also clumsy, but rather from stoutness than stupidity; he was a short man of about forty, and his dress was that of one in the lower ranks of the law. Everybody in the place ran out of doors to see what the race was about.

"Monsieur Pioche--I--only--want--your--vote," the Attorney panted, closing up with his victim.

"Let me go, Master Populus," the peasant cried, clasping his hands and falling on his knees. "Faith of G.o.d! I can swear that I have none of that. I never saw one, I a.s.sure you, Monsieur. Search my person and see if you find one of those things. No, Monsieur Populus, I am only a poor little bit of a cottager, I have never broken the laws in my life. I a.s.sure you I have no such thing on me. I never saw one, Monsieur."

"My good Pioche--_Monsieur_ Pioche, citizen of the bailiwick of Grelot--do not go on your knees to one whose only aim is to be the servant of our citizens."

A suspicious, defensive look was the only expression on the rustic's face as he rose and peered furtively round to calculate his chances of escape. A little crowd was meanwhile closing up.

"Know, sir," continued Populus, "that the King, in the plent.i.tude of his goodness, has learned of the misery of his people and desires to hear their grievances and set them right. He has ordained that the grievances of Grelot be set forth for him in due form, and I undertake, sir, to act in this operation as the humble mouthpiece of my native place. More particularly his Majesty decrees that the august people do declare its will upon the formation of a const.i.tution and other grave matters, by appointing representatives of the Third Estate to the a.s.sembly of the Estates-General."

"I don't understand anything about all that."

"My dear Monsieur Pioche, that does not matter in the slightest. It is the best of reasons why you should appoint me your representative."

"I do not understand," the rustic persisted stolidly.

"_Mon Dieu!_ Monsieur Pioche," Master Populus continued, "it is very simple; promise me your vote. See what I can do for you. You pay the Seigneur twenty-six livres annual feudal rent of your holding."

"No, twenty-seven."

"Well, say twenty-seven. Now I am the intendant of this new young fool of a Seigneur, who is away all the time at Versailles. I have the sole control. Let us strike a bargain. Give me your vote and I will quietly let you off ten livres of rental. If I wish, I can find some reason for reporting you at seventeen."

Pioche's eyes a.s.sumed an uncertain light of cunning and greed.

"Don't do it, Pioche," cried a one-eyed cobbler. "Notary Mule offers to abolish all these Seigneur's rights if we elect _him_ to the States-General."

"Shut up, you tan-smelling bow-legs!" the enraged Populus retorted at a shout. "Who is this Mule, that he should represent the majesty of the bailiwick of Grelot? A cur whose very name is enough to relegate him to limbo; whose deeds are atrocities in ink, whose----"

"Nevertheless he is going to lift our dues. Master Mule is the people's man," the cobbler returned valiantly.

"What, Mule!" cried Populus with still greater scorn. "Where has he the power? Am I not the intendant? Is it not I who alone control the dues in my own person? Yes, gentlemen, who will deny that I hold, so to speak, the keys of heaven and earth in Grelot, and whom I bind shall be bound and whom I loose shall be loosed, notwithstanding the impotent cajolery of all the long-eared Mules in the kingdom?"

The whole population of the village were by this time gaping around him.

"What, you clapper-jawed thief," a voice thundered from behind, "you venture to malign my name--the honourable appellation of a respectable family! Know, sir, that I spit upon you, I strike you, I say bah to your face!"

Maitre Mule was a little round-faced man, forced by his physical inferiority to Populus to take out his valour by word of mouth.

The two went at it with recriminations, from which Germain learnt much of his own affairs. The noise of the pair shouting and threatening to fight together, and the riotous cries of the crowd, "No dues!" "Notary, give us bread!" grew at length so great that the innkeeper rushed out exclaiming, "Peace, Messieurs, peace. I have a gentleman from Paris sleeping upstairs. See, there is the baker's shop just open."

The word "baker" operated better than magic. The rioters rushed over to the wicket, which was fixed in the door of the shop, and fought and snarled with each other for their slender purchases of the bread of famine.

Such were the daily incidents which were leading men on to revolution.

CHAPTER XLIII

BACK AT EAUX TRANQUILLES

"I will alter all this," Germain determined.

Wrapping his cloak closely round him and lowering his hat to prevent recognition he mounted his horse in the courtyard of the inn and rode on.

He might have taken a path directly through his own park to the chateau, but he preferred the highway to Fontainebleau, and, pa.s.sing the gates of Eaux Tranquilles, entered the great forest.

With what emotions did not the sight of that neighbourhood thrill him.

He slacked rein to a walk, rode thoughtfully through the bare but smiling woods and picturesque openings, and stopped with deep feeling at the spring where he first met the generous benefactor of his life. It was now sparkling like crystal--its basin fringed with ice. Tears rose in his eyes and fell freely as he brought his steed into the same position as when the Chevalier had first addressed him, and he eagerly strained his sorrowful imagination to discern again the kindly features of the old man's face and look into his eyes once more.

"I was unworthy of you, my benefactor," he exclaimed. "Oh, may some path out of my misdoings be yet found which will satisfy your stainless standard!" Turning back he retraced his route and entered Eaux Tranquilles.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARIE ANTOINETTE D'AUTRICHE

Reine de France

1755-1793]

The gardens were deserted. He tied his horse to a seat and walked about.

Amidst his emotions and reminiscences the beauty of the place, even in its wintry garb, gradually introduced into his thoughts a subdued, scarcely conscious strain of delight in its ownership. He came at last to the chateau, stood before it, and looked contemplatively along its facade. It was almost too grand to seem by any possibility his, yet in very truth he was lord of Eaux Tranquilles and all its manors.

Sounds of unseemly revelry within fell upon his ear. He listened a moment, and then stepping up to the great door struck the knocker. The butler himself opened. He was half drunk, and as he was a man who had been engaged from Paris since Germain's visit he did not know the latter.

"What do you want, disturbing gentlemen's diversions?" he exclaimed insolently. "Who told you to come to this estate?"

"Its master."

"You lie. Do you want me to set the dogs on you?"

"You will neither set the dogs on me nor tell me I lie," Germain said quietly, and stepped past him into the hall.

"What do you say?" the butler shouted, foaming at the mouth and trying to seize Germain, who foiled him by drawing his sword. "Jacques! Jovite!

Constant! 'Lexandre! here; put a _canaille_ pig out who defies me!"

The door of an adjoining chamber opened, showing a table covered with gla.s.ses and bottles of choice wines, and three or four footmen in disordered liveries rushed out with some of the bottles and gla.s.ses in their hands. At the sight of Germain's face one after another stood stock still and fell upon his knees.