第92章 MAMMA QUEEN.(7)

"You will not weep again if the people shout and laugh?" asked Marie Antoinette. "You will not be afraid any more?"

"No, I will not be afraid any more. Oh, you shall be satisfied with me, mamma queen! I have paid close attention to all that you said to the two gentlemen, and I am very glad that you did not allow M. de Lafayette to walk behind us. The people would then have believed that we are afraid, and now they shall see that we are not so at all."

"Well, come, my child, let us go," said Marie Antoinette, giving her hand to her son, and preparing to leave the pavilion.

But on the threshold the dauphin stopped, and looked imploringly up into the face of his mother.

"I should like to ask you something, mamma queen."

"Well, what is it, my little Louis? What do you wish?"

"I should like to have you allow me to go alone, else the people would believe that I am afraid and want you to lead me. And I want to be like the Chevalier Bayard, about whom the Abbe talked with me to-day. I want to be sans peur et sans reproche, like Bayard."

"Very well, chevalier," said the queen, with a smile, "then walk alone and free by my side."

"No, mamma, if you will allow me, I will walk before you. The knights always walk in advance of the ladies, so as to ward off any danger which may be in the way. And I am your knight, mamma, and I want to be as long as I live. Will you allow it, my royal lady?"

"I allow it! So go in front, Chevalier Louis Charles! We will take the same way back by which we came."

The dauphin sprang over the little square in front of the pavilion, and down the alley which led to the Arcadia Walk along the side of the quay.

Before the little staircase which led up to this walk, he stopped and turned his pretty head round to the queen, who, followed by the two lackeys, was walking slowly and quietly along.

"Well, Chevalier Bayard," asked the queen, with a smile, "what are you stopping for?"

"I am only waiting for your majesty," replied the child, gravely.

"Here is where my knightly service commences, for here it is that danger begins."

"It is true," said the queen, as she stopped at the foot of the steps and listened to the loud shouting which now became audible.

"One would think that a storm had been Sweeping over the ocean, there is such a thundering sound. But you know, my son, that the storms lie in God's hand, and that He protects those who trust in Him. Think of that, my child, and do not be afraid!"

"Oh, I am not afraid!" cried the boy, and he sprang up the stairs like a gazelle.

The queen quickened her steps a little, and seemed to be giving her whole attention to her son, who went before her with such a happy flow of spirits, and appeared to hear nothing of what was passing around her. And yet, behind the fence which ran along the left side of the Arcadia Walk all the way to the quay, was a dense mass of people, head behind head, and all their blazing eyes were directed at the queen, and words of hate, malediction, and threatening followed her every step which she took forward.

"See, see," cried a woman, with dishevelled hair, which streamed out from her round cap, and fell down over her red, angry face--" see, that is the baker's woman, and the monkey that jumps in front of her is the apprentice-boy! They can dress themselves up and be fine, for all is well with them, and they can eat cakes, while we have to go hungry. But wait, only wait! times will be different by and by, and we shall see the baker-woman as hungry as we. But when we have the bread, we will give her none--no, we will give her none!"

"No, indeed, we will give her none!" roared, and cried, and laughed, and howled the mob. And they all pressed closer up to the fence, and naked arms and clinched fists were thrust through the palings, and threatened the queen, and the dauphin, who walked in front of his mother.

"Will he be able to bear it? Will my poor boy not weep with fear and anxiety? "That was the only thought of the queen, as she walked on past the angry roars of the crowd. To the dauphin alone all her looks were directed; not once did she glance at the fence, behind which the populace roared like a pack of lions.

All at once the breath of the queen stopped, and her heart ceased beating, with horror. She saw directly at the place where the path turned and ran away from the fence, but where, before making the turn, it ran very near the fence, the bare arm of a man extended through the paling as far as possible, and stretching in fact half-way across the path, as if it were a turnpike-bar stopping the way.

The eyes of the queen, when they fell upon this dreadful, powerful arm, turned at once in deep alarm to the dauphin. She saw him hesitate a little in his hurried course, and then go slowly forward.

The queen quickened her steps in order to come up with the dauphin before he should reach the danger which confronted him. The people outside of the fence, when they saw the manoeuvre of the man who was forcing his arm still farther in, stopped their shouting and lapsed into a breathless, eager silence, as sometimes is the case in a storm, between the successive bursts of wind and thunder.

Every one felt that the touch of that threatening arm and that little child might be like the contact of steel and flint, and elicit sparks which should kindle the fires of another revolution.

It was this feeling which made the crowd silent; the same feeling compelled the queen to quicken her steps, so that she was close to the dauphin before he had reached this terrible turnpike-bar.

"Come here, my son," cried the queen, "give me your hand!"

But before she had time to grasp the hand of the little prince, he sprang forward and stood directly in front of the outstretched arm.

"My God! what will he do?" whispered the queen to herself.

At the same instant, there resounded from behind the fence a loud, mighty bravo, and a thousand voices took it up and cried, "Bravo! bravo!"

The dauphin had stretched up his little white hand and laid it upon the brown, clinched fist that was stretched out toward him, and nodded pleasantly at the man who looked down so fiercely upon him.