A Wife's Duty Part 22

No one likes to give up any power once possessed. Pendarves had flattered himself La Beauvais fondly loved him; and his bitter grief at her apparent desertion of him, arose from wounded pride, and the fear of having lost his power over her, more than from pining affection.

But she had written to him; she was trying to gain admittance to his prison:--his wounded vanity therefore was at rest on one point, and the sight of me was grateful because it ministered to it in another.

But I did not, could not reason then: I only felt; and what with jealousy, and what with my fears for his life, now, I thought, endangered by me, I was ill and evidently wretched the whole time I staid. But Seymour's manner to me was most soothing, and even tender. At that moment I could better have borne indifference from him; for I was conscious that I had weakly given way to the feelings of an injured jealous woman, and had thereby probably given the seal to his fate!

Glad was I when the jailor summoned me; for I was anxious to tell De Walden the folly which I had committed; and I saw that Seymour was hurt at the cold and hurried manner in which I bade him farewell.

When I saw De Walden, he told me that he had called in vain on La Beauvais. .h.i.therto; but would try again and again. On hearing what had pa.s.sed between us he became alarmed, but declared that he could not have forgiven me if I had spoken or acted otherwise. That day some of the tyrant's creatures were in our shop, and one of them desired to see the other shop-woman, declaring Alice was not pretty enough to wait on them; and that they were resolved the next time they came to see _la belle Angloise_.--But every other fear was soon swallowed up in one.

Juan overheard that night in the Thuilleries gardens, that the Englishman Pendarves would be brought before the tribunal the day after the next, and there was no doubt of his being executed with several others directly!!!

The moment, the dreaded moment was now indeed at hand, and how was it to be averted? De Walden heard this intelligence also, and came to me immediately. But all hope seemed vain, because he was to be condemned to satisfy private wishes, and not because any public wrong could be proved against him; and he left me in utter despair. But he also left me to reflect; and the result was a determination to act resolutely and immediately, and to risk the event. Suffice, that I called my faithful servants into my room, reminded them of that fidelity and obedience to me which they had vowed to my poor mother on her death-bed, and told them the hour for them to prove their attachment and fulfil their vow was now arrived. This solemn adjuration was answered by as solemn a.s.surances to obey me in whatever I required of them. I first required that they should keep all I was now going to say, and all they or I were going to do, profoundly secret from De Walden. I saw Juan recoil at this; but I was firm, and he swore himself to secrecy. I then unfolded to them my scheme, and had to encounter tears, entreaties urged on bended knee, that I would give up my rash design, and consider myself.

But they might as well have talked to the winds. "I feel," said I, "by the suddenness of this proceeding, that my treatment of La Beauvais has done this, and it is my duty, at all risks to myself, to save my husband from the death to which I have hurried him." The faithful creatures were silenced, but not convinced. Still, finding they could not prevent my purpose, and that I declared I would cry "_Vive le Roi_," that I might die with my husband, they prepared in mournful obedience to consult with me on the best means of accomplis.h.i.+ng my wishes.

My plan was this: I resolved to ask permission to take a last farewell of Pendarves at night, after I had seen him in the morning, and then change clothes with him, and remain in his stead.

"And as Benoit was ill in bed this evening, when you went," said I, "there is no likelihood that he will be well to-morrow; so my plan cannot injure him. Therefore, let us be prepared to execute what I have designed, directly."

"Well! my comfort is," said Juan, "that my master will not consent to risk your life to save his."

"Not willingly; but I shall force him to do it."

"Well! we shall see."

You may remember how I used to regret my great height, because Pendarves did not admire tall women; but now how I valued it, as it made it more easy for Pendarves to pa.s.s for me, and therefore might aid my efforts to save his life!

We agreed that Alice and Juan should be in waiting with a covered peasant's cart, at the end of the Luxembourg gardens; that then he should drive him and her to our lodging in the Champs Elisees, which we had again hired, where he was to pa.s.s for me, and still hide his face as if in great affliction. The house was kept by a deaf, stupid old woman, who was not likely to suspect any thing. And at day-break, Pendarves in a peasant's dress, with Alice by his side, dressed like a peasant also, with her hood over her face, was to drive on day and night when he had pa.s.sed the barrier, which we hoped it would be easy to do, till some place of safe retreat offered itself on the road. And I knew that on this road was the _chateau_ of a gentleman whom we had known and had done kindnesses for in England, who had contrived like some others to take no part in politics, and had retained his house and his land.

All was procured and ready as I desired; and, having written down my scheme for my husband, conjuring him to grant my request, I went to the prison in the morning with a beating heart, lest Benoit should be well enough to be at his post. But he was not only unwell; he was dismissed from his office. The _bon Benoit_, as he was called, was too good for his situation.[20]

[Footnote 20: An historical fact.]

Seymour beheld with wonder, and no small alarm, my cheek, now flushed, now pale, my tremulous voice, and my abstracted manner; and I once more saw in him that affectionate interest and anxiety so dear to my heart.

"You are ill, my beloved," said he at length.

"Beloved!" How the word thrilled through my heart! I never expected to hear it again from his lips; and the sound overcame me. "I shall be better soon," cried I, bursting into tears.

The surly jailor (Oh! how unlike Benoit!) who had taken his place, now summoned me away, and I slided my letter into my husband's hands. "Read it," said I, "and know that your doom is fixed for to-morrow; therefore I conjure you by our past loves to grant the request which this letter contains; and if you think I have deserved kindness from you, comply with my wishes."

Seymour, who had heard nothing of his approaching fate, took the letter, and listened to me with a bewildered air; and I hastened from the prison. I had easily obtained permission to return to the prison at night.

"It will be the last time. You will never come again," said the brutal gaoler: "your husband will never come back when he goes to the tribunal to-morrow, so come and welcome!"

I spent the intervening time in writing a letter to De Walden, inclosing one for my uncle, which I begged him to forward; and I arranged every thing as if death awaited me. Nay, how could I be a.s.sured that it did not? but I kept all my fears to myself and talked of hope alone to my poor servants, who wandered about, the pictures of grief.

When De Walden called that day I would not see him, but lay down on purpose to avoid him; for I dreaded to meet his penetrating glance.

As it was now the middle of July, days were shortening, and by eight o'clock twilight was gathering fast. My appointment was for half-past seven; and by a bribe I obtained leave from Benoit's unworthy successor to stay till half-past eight.

Then, summoning all my fort.i.tude, I entered the cell of my husband. I shall pa.s.s over the first moments of our meeting; but I shall never forget them, and I am soothed and comforted when I recollect all that escaped from that affectionate and generous, though misguided being.

Suffice, that all his arguments were vain to persuade me that he was not worthy to be saved, at even the smallest risk to a life so precious as mine.

"My life precious!" cried I: "a being without any near and dear ties!

with neither parent, child, nor husband, I may _now_ say," cried I, thrown off my guard by the consciousness of a desolate heart.

"I have deserved this reproach," said Seymour; "you have indeed no husband, therefore why should not I die? as, were I gone, Helen, I feel, I know, that you would be no longer desolate!"

I understood his meaning, but did not notice it. Bitter was now the anguish which I felt; nay, so violent was my distress, and so earnest my entreaties that he would escape, as the idea that he refused me in consequence of what I had just said, would, if he perished, drive me, I was convinced, to complete distraction, that he at last consented to my request.

"But, take notice," said he, "that I do it with this a.s.surance, that, if my escape puts you in peril, I will return and suffer for or with you; and then you shall again find that you have a husband, Helen, and our union shall be renewed in death, and cemented in our blood.--I say no more. You command, and it is my duty to obey."

He then took off his _robe de chambre_ which he wore in prison; and I dressed him in the loose gown I had made up for the occasion, and long enough to hide his feet; and even when he had my bonnet on, I had the satisfaction of seeing that he did not look much taller than I did. I now wrapt his robe tight round me, put all my hair under his night-cap and with my handkerchief at my eyes awaited the gaoler's summons; while Pendarves dropped the veil, and covered his face with his handkerchief as if in grief. But the anxious heavings of my bosom and the mournful ones of his were only too real. Every thing favoured us; the wind was high, and, by blowing the door to, blew out the lamp which the gaoler held: therefore the only light was from a dim lamp in the pa.s.sage. At the door stood the trembling Juan.

"There, take care of her; for she totters as if she was drunk," said the gaoler; "I warrant you she will never come again."

In five minutes more Seymour was in the cart, and very shortly after he reached our cottage in safety, and was, as me, lying in my bed in the Champs Elisees. I, meanwhile, went to bed, and made no answer, but by groans to the "Good night" and brutal consolations of the gaoler, when he came to lock me up, without the smallest suspicion who I was. But when I heard myself actually locked up for the night, I threw myself on my knees in a transport of devout grat.i.tude.

The next morning I rose after short and troubled rest, seating myself with my back to the door, that I might remain undiscovered as long as I could, in order to give my husband more time to get away. But I could no longer r.e.t.a.r.d the awful moment; for my gaoler came to summon me before the tribunal.

"I am quite ready!" said I, turning slowly round. I leave you to imagine his surprise, his indignation, his execrations, and his abuse. I forgave him, for the poor wretch feared for his place, if not for his life.

"Yes: you shall go before the tribunal," said he, seizing me with savage fury. "But no, I must first send after your rascally husband."

He then locked me in; and I saw no more of him for two hours, when I heard a great noise in the pa.s.sage, down which my cell when open looked, and presently the door was unlocked by the gaoler himself, who exclaimed with a malignant smile, "Your husband is taken, and brought back! Look out, and you will see him!"

I _did_ look out, I did see him, unseen by him at first, and I saw him walking up the pa.s.sage with La Beauvais weeping on his arm, and one of hers thrown across his shoulder.

An involuntary exclamation escaped me; and I retreated back into the cell. I have since heard that Henroit and his guards, De Walden and Juan, were in the pa.s.sage; but I only saw my husband and La Beauvais; and leaning against the wall I hid my face in my hands, oppressed with a thousand contending and bewildering sensations.

"There!" said the vindictive gaoler, ushering in Pendarves, as if he felt how painful a _tete-a-tete_ between us now would be; "there, citizen! I shall shut you up with your wife, till I know what is to be done with her. But perhaps you would like the other _citoyenne_ better?"

"Peace!" cried Pendarves, "and leave us alone!"

"Helen!" said my husband.

"Mr. Pendarves!"

"I see how it is, Helen; nor can I blame you: appearances were against me. But I must and will a.s.sure you, that that person's appearing at such a time, and her behaviour, were as unexpected as they were unwelcome."

Still I spoke not: no, not even to inquire why I had the misery of seeing him return; and ere I had broken this painful but only too natural silence, and had only just resumed my woman's gown, the door was again thrown open, and an officer of the National Convention came to say, that I was allowed to return home for the present, till further proceedings were resolved upon.

"Take notice, sir," said Pendarves, "that this lady's only fault has been too great a regard for an unworthy husband; and that what you may deem a crime, the rest of Europe will call a virtue."

The officer smiled; and wis.h.i.+ng my husband good night, I followed where he led.

At the gate I found De Walden, who accompanied me home, having first been a.s.sured by the officer that I should be under surveillance.

"And is it thus, rash Helen, you use your best friends, and risk an existence so valuable?" cried De Walden.