The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II). Lever Charles James
bent down her head and sat as though overcome.
“Come, Dora,” said Martin, kindly, “rouse yourself; you are always equal to an effort when necessity presses. Tell Kate here what you wish, and she ‘ll do it.”
“I want no aid, – no assistance, sir. Miss Henderson is her own mistress, – she may do what, or go where she pleases.”
Martin made a sign to Kate not to mind what he believed to be the mere wandering of an over-excited brain; and then bending down over the chair, said, “Dear Dora, we must be active and stirring; the people will soon be masters of the capital, – for a while, at least, – and there is no saying what excesses they will commit.”
“Do not offend Miss Henderson, sir,” interposed Lady Dorothea; “she has equal confidence in their valor and their virtue.”
“What does this mean? – when did she fall into this state?” asked he, eagerly. And although only spoken in a whisper, Lady Dorothea overheard them, and said, – “Let her tell you. She can give you the very fullest explanation.”
“But, Dora, this is no time for trifling; we are here, in the midst of an enraged populace and a maddened soldiery. There, listen! – that was artillery; and now, hear! – the bells of the churches are sounding the alarm.”
“They are ringing the knell of the Monarchy!” said Kate, solemnly.
A hoarse, wild shout – aery like that of enraged wild beasts – arose from the Place beneath, and all rushed to the window to see what had occurred. It was a charge of heavy cavalry endeavoring to force the barricade; and now, vigorously repulsed by the defenders, men and horses were rolling on the ground in terrible confusion, while on the barricade itself a hand-to-hand conflict was raging.
“Sharp work, by George!” said a voice behind Kate’s shoulder. She turned and saw Captain Martin, who had just joined them unobserved.
“I thought you many a mile away,” said Kate, in a whisper.
“So I should have been,” replied he, in the same tone, “but I was n’t going to lose this. I knew it was to come off to-day, and I thought it would have been a thousand pities to be absent.”
“And are your wishes, then, with these gallant fellows?” said she, eagerly. “Do I hear you aright, that it was to aid them you remained? There! see how they bear down on the soldiery; they will not be restrained; they are crossing the barricade, and charging with the bayonet. It is only for liberty that men can fight thus. Oh that I were a man, to be amongst them!”
A stray shot from beneath here struck the architrave above their heads, and sent down a mass of plaster over them.
“Come, Dora, this is needless peril,” said Martin, drawing her within the room. “If you will not leave this, at least do not expose yourself unnecessarily.”
“But it is exactly to get away – to escape while there is time – that I came for,” said the Captain. “They tell me that the mob are getting the best of it, and, worse again, that the troops are joining them; so, to make sure, I ‘ve sent off Fenton to the post for horses, and I ‘m expecting him every moment. But here he is. Well, have you got the horses?”
“No, sir: the horses have all been taken by the people to mount orderlies; the postmaster, too, has fled, and everything is in confusion. But if we had horses the streets are impassable; from here to the Boulevard there are no less than five barricades.”
“Then what is to be done?” cried Martin.
“They say, sir,” replied Fenton, “that by gaining the outer Boulevard on foot, carriages and horses are easily found there, to reach Belleville, St. Germain, or Versailles.”
“He is right,” said the Captain; “there is nothing else to be done. What do you think?” said he, addressing Kate, who stood intently watching the movements in the Place beneath.
“Yes; do you agree with this plan?” asked Martin, approaching her.
“Look!” cried she, eagerly, and not heeding the question; “the troops are rapidly joining the people, – they come in numbers now, – and yonder is an officer in his uniform.”
“Shame on him!” exclaimed Lady Dorothea, indignantly.
“So say I too,” said Kate. “He who wears a livery should not assume the port and bearing of a free man. This struggle is for liberty, and should only be maintained by the free!”
“How are we to pass these barricades?” cried Martin, anxiously.
“I will be your guide, sir, if that be all,” said Kate. “You may trust me. I promise no more than I can perform.”
“She speaks truly,” said Lady Dorothea. “Alas that we should see the day when we cannot reject the aid!”
“There is a matter I want to speak to you about,” said Martin, drawing his father aside, and speaking in a low, confidential tone. “Massingbred – Jack Massingbred – is now here, in my room. I know all about my mother’s dislike to him, and he knows it; indeed, he has as much as owned to me that he deserved it all. But what is to be done? We cannot leave him here.”
“How came he to be here?” asked Martin.
“He accompanied me from the Club, where, in an altercation of some sort, he had just involved himself in a serious quarrel. He came here to be ready to start this morning for Versailles, where the meeting was to take place; but indeed he had no thought of accepting shelter under our roof; and when he found where he was, it was with the greatest difficulty I could persuade him to enter. None of us anticipated such a serious turn of affairs as this; and now, of course, a meeting will be scarcely possible. What are we to do with him?”
“Ask him frankly to join us if we obtain the horses.”
“But my mother?”
“I ‘ll speak to her, – but it were better you did it, Harry. These are not times to weigh scruples and balance difficulties. I don’t myself think that Massingbred treated us fairly, but it is not now I ‘d like to remember it. There, go; tell her what you have told me, and all will be well.”
The Captain drew nigh Lady Dorothea, and, leaning over her chair, whispered to her for some minutes. At first, a slight gesture of impatience burst from her, but afterwards she seemed to hear him calmly and tranquilly.
“It would seem as though the humiliations of this night are never to have an end,” said she, with a sigh. “But I’ll bear my share of them.”
“Remember,” said the other, “that it was by no choice of his he came here. His foot was on the threshold before he suspected it.”
“Miss Henderson sent me, my Lady,” said a servant, entering hastily, “to say that there is not a minute to be lost. They are expecting an attack on the barricade in the Rue de la Paix, and we ought to pass through at once.”
“By whose orders?” began she, haughtily; then, checking herself suddenly, and in a voice weak and broken, added: “I am ready. Give me your arm, Harry, and do not leave me. Where is Mr. Martin?” asked she.
“He is waiting for your Ladyship at the foot of the stairs with another gentleman,” said the servant.
“That must be Massingbred, for I told them to call him,” said the Captain.
When Lady Dorothea, supported by the arm of her son, had reached the gate, she found Martin and Massingbred standing to receive them, surrounded by a numerous escort of servants, each loaded with some portion of the family baggage.
“A hasty summons, sir,” said she, addressing Massingbred, and thus abruptly avoiding the awkwardness of a more ceremonious meeting. “A few hours back none of us anticipated anything like this. Will it end seriously, think you?”
“There is every prospect of such, madam,” said he, bowing respectfully to her salutation. “Every moment brings fresh tidings of defection among the troops, while the Marshal is paralyzed by contradictory orders.”
“Is