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Marie Antoinette Romances, Vol 4: Taking the Bastile

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<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> THE TRIO OF LOVE. Without knowing who was helping her, Andrea began to recover consciousness but instinctively she knew help had come. At length, with open but ghostly eyes, she stared at Charny without yet recognizing him. She pushed him away, with a scream, then. The Queen averted her eyes although she ought to have played the woman's part of comforter. She cast off her sister instead of supporting her. "Pardon her, my lady," said Charny, again taking his wife in his strong arms, "but something out of the way causes this. My lady is not subject to fainting fits and this is, I believe, the first time she has had one in your presence." "She must have felt much pain," returned the Queen, going back to her first impression that Andrea had overheard them. "No doubt," said the count, "and you might let me have her carried to her own rooms." The Queen rang a bell; but at the first tinkle Andrea stiffened in a culvulsion and screamed in delirium: "Oh, our Gilbert!" The Queen shuddered to hear the name and the astonished count placed his wife on a sofa. The servant who ran at the call was dismissed. Queen and nobleman looked at each other as the sufferer seemed with closed eyes to have another fit. Charny, kneeling by her, had hard work to keep her on the lounge. "I think I know this name," said Marie Antoinette, "from its not being the first time the countess has used it." [Pg 154] But as though the recollection was a menace, Andrea opened her eyes and made an effort by which she stood up. Her first intelligent glance was fondly upon Charny, who was now upright. As if this involuntary manifestation of her mind was unworthy her Spartan soul, she turned her gaze only to meet the Queen's. She bowed at once. "Good heavens, what is the matter?" inquired the count: "you alarm me, for you are usually so brave and strong—to be prey to such a swoon." "Such dreadful things have happened at Paris where you were, that if men are trembling at them, women may be excused for fainting. I am so glad you came away from the city." "Is it on my account that you felt so ill?" queried the noble. "Why, certainly, count," said Marie Antoinette as the lady made no sound. "Why do you doubt it? The countess is not a Queen; she has a right to be afraid for those she loves." "Oh, madam," rejoined Charny, perceiving jealousy in the slur, "I am sure that the countess feels more fear for her sovereign than for herself." "Still, why do we find you in the swoon in the next room?" inquired the royal lady. "I cannot tell, for I am ignorant, but in this life of fatigue and terror, led these three days, a woman's fainting is natural enough, meseems." "True," said the Queen, knowing that Andrea could not be driven out of her defenses. "For that matter, your Majesty has weeping eyes," retorted the countess, with that recovered calmness which was the more embarrassing as it was pure effort of her will and was felt to be a screen over her real feelings. Charny thought he perceived the same ironical tone that had marked the Queen's speaking a while ago. "It is not astonishing," reproved he, with slight sternness to which his voice was unaccustomed, "that a queen should weep who loves her people and knows that their blood had flowed." "Happily God hath spared yours," said Andrea, as coldly and impenetrably as ever. [Pg 155] "But her Majesty is not in question. We are talking about you. You have been frightened?" "I, frightened?" "You cannot deny you were in pain; has some mishap befallen you? Is there anybody you want to complain of—this Gilbert, whom you mentioned, for example?" "Did I utter that name?" said Andrea with such a tone of dread that the count was more startled by the outcry than by the swoon. "Strange, for I did not know it, till the King mentioned it as that of a learned physician, freshly arrived from America, I believe, and who was friendly there with General Lafayette. They say he is a very honorable man," concluded Andrea with perfect simplicity. "Then why this emotion, my dear?" said the Queen; "you spoke this Gilbert's name as though it were wrung from you by torture." "Very likely. When I went into the royal study, I beheld a stern man clad in the grim black, who was narrating the most sombre and horrid things—with frightful realism, the murders of Flesselles and Launay. I was frightened and dropped insensible. I may have spoken in my spell and the name of Gilbert would be uttered." "It is likely," said Charny, evidently disposed to let the discussion drop. "At least you are recovered now?" "Completely." "I have only one thing to entreat," said the Queen to her Lifeguardsman. "Go and tell the generals to camp where their troops are stationed and the King will issue orders to-morrow." The count bowed but darted an affectionately anxious look on Andrea which the Queen remarked. "Will you not return to the King with me?" inquired she of the countess. "Oh, no," replied the latter eagerly; "I beg leave to retire." "Oh, the King has been pleasant but you would rather not see him again? I understand. You may go, and let the count carry out his instructions." She glanced at the lord as much as to say: "Return soon!" And his look replied: "As soon as possible." [Pg 156] Andrea, with a heaving and oppressed bosom, watched her husband's movements, but as soon as he had disappeared, her forces failed her and the Queen had to run to her with the smelling salts as she sank on a stool, apologizing for the breach of etiquette in sitting in the royal presence. The feeling between the pair was strange. The Queen seemed to have affection for her attendant and the latter respect for her mistress, but they were like enemies at times. "You know, dear countess, that etiquette is not made for you. But you have nothing to say to me about this Dr. Gilbert, whose sight made so profound an impression on you?" The woman had reflected in an instant. Whatever the relation between the Queen, who was suspected of having paramours, and the King, perhaps not so gullible as he looked, Marie Antoinette might draw from her royal consort the particulars of the mesmeric trance in which Gilbert had thrown the Lady of Charny. Better her relation than the King's. With the energy of lunacy, she ran from one door to another, fastened them all, and when assured that nobody could hear or see, she flung herself on her knees before her mistress. "Save me, in heaven's name, save me!" she wailed: "and I will tell you everything!" <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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