“What is that?”
“Sire, as I told your Majesty, this box contains only papers which are easily read, and might be taken, and on which depends the honor of a woman.”
“And that woman is the countess?”
“Yes, Sire. That honor will not be endangered while this matter is confined to the knowledge of your Majesty. Open it, Sire,” said Gilbert, approaching the casket, and presenting the key of it to the king.
“Sir,” replied Louis XVI. coldly, “take away this box; it belongs to you.”
“Thank you, Sire, but what are we to do with the countess?”
“Oh, do not, above all, wake her up here. I wish to avoid all recriminations and painful scenes.”
“Sire,” said Gilbert, “the countess will only awake in the place where you wish her to be carried.”
“Well, let her be taken to the queen’s apartment, then.”
Louis rang the bell. An officer entered the room.
“Captain,” said he, “the Countess de Charny has just fainted here, on hearing the news from Paris. Have her taken to the queen’s room.”
“How long will it take to carry her there?” asked Gilbert of the king.
“About ten minutes,” replied the latter.
Gilbert laid his hand on the countess.
“You will awake in three quarters of an hour,” said he.
Two soldiers entered,—the order having been given by the officer,—who carried her away in an arm-chair.
“Now, Monsieur Gilbert, what more do you desire?” asked the king.
“Sire, I desire a favor which would draw me nearer to your Majesty, and procure me at the same time an opportunity to be useful to you.”
The king endeavored to divine what he could mean.
“Explain yourself,” said he.
“I should like to be one of the physicians in ordinary to the king,” replied Gilbert; “I should be in the way of no one; it is a post of honor, but rather a confidential than a brilliant one.”
“Granted,” said the king. “Adieu, Monsieur Gilbert. Ah! by the bye, a thousand compliments to Necker. Adieu.”
Then, as he was leaving the room:—
“My supper!” cried Louis, whom no event, however important, could induce to forget his supper.
Chapter XXV
In The Queen’s Apartments
WHILE the king was learning to oppose the revolution philosophically, by going through a course of occult sciences, the queen who was a much more substantial and profound philosopher, had gathered around her in her large cabinet all those who were called her faithful adherents, doubtless because there had been no opportunity afforded to any one of them either to prove or to try his fidelity.
In the queen’s circle, also, the events of that terrible day had been related in all their details.
She had even been the first to be informed of them, for, knowing her to be undaunted, they had not feared to inform her of the danger.
Around the queen were assembled generals, courtiers, priests, and ladies. Near the doors and behind the tapestries which hung before them might be seen groups of young officers, full of courage and ardor, who saw in all revolts a long desired opportunity to evince their prowess in presence of the fair sex, as in a tournament.
All of these, whether intimately connected with the court, or devoted servants of the monarchy, had listened with attention to the news from Paris, which had been related by Monsieur de Lambesq, who, having been present during those events, had hastened to Versailles with his regiment, still covered with the sand of the Tuileries, in order to state the real position of affairs to the affrighted courtiers, and thus afford them consolation; for many of them, although the misfortune was sufficiently serious, had greatly exaggerated it in their apprehension.
The queen was seated at a table. It was no longer the gentle and lovely bride, the guardian angel of France, whom we saw appear at the opening of this cycle, crossing the northern frontier, an olive-branch in her hand. It was no longer even that gracious and beautiful princess whom we saw one evening entering with the Princess de Lamballe into the mysterious dwelling of Mesmer, and seating herself, laughing and incredulous, near the symbolical vat, of which she had come to ask a revelation of the future.