The guardsman was a little way ahead; she hurried to keep up with him. Who would have believed that escape could have been so easy? In five minutes, she thought, I shall be with the children. They are safe … safe with Axel.
It was strange to be out walking in the streets of Paris. She realised then how little she knew the city. I should never have found the fiacre by myself, she thought.
Suddenly she saw that the guardsman had halted, and in a second she understood why. Coming towards them was a coach before which walked the torchbearers. The guardsman was signalling her not to come forward, and looking about her, she saw an alley and slipped down it. The light from the torches shone on the dark wall of the alley. She lowered her head for she had recognised the livery of La Fayette’s men and she knew that the General would be in his coach.
The coach passed so close to her that she saw La Fayette sitting in it. For an instant her heart felt as though it would choke her. Holding the veil tightly about her throat, she turned and began walking slowly down the alley.
The sound of the carriage wheels had died away and then she heard footsteps behind her. She dared not turn. Her heart was beating madly. ‘Oh, God,’ she prayed, ‘let me reach the fiacre. Let me reach my children.’
‘Madame.’ She felt she wanted to shout with relief, for it was her guide. ‘That was a near thing. If the General had seen Your Majesty … ’
‘He would not have recognised me,’ she said, for the man was trembling.
‘Madame, it is not easy for you to disguise yourself.’ He was frowning. ‘Let us go another way to the rue de l’Echelle. I am afraid that if we take the route we planned we may meet more carriages.’
‘You are right,’ she said. ‘Let us do that.’
So they walked and, after ten minutes, the man admitted that he was not sure where he was. He was not so well acquainted with this part of Paris, and these back streets were such a maze.
‘They will be waiting,’ she cried frantically. ‘They will think I have not escaped. We must find them … quickly.’
But they were lost in that maze of streets and, when they tried to retrace their way to that spot where they had met La Fayette’s carriage, they could not do so. For half an hour they sought to find their way and, when they finally reached the rue de l’Echelle, it was to discover that the others were in despair, having been waiting for almost the whole of an hour.
Antoinette took her place in the ancient fiacre; she felt too emotional for words; all she could do was take her sleeping children in her arms and hold them against her.
Fersen climbed into the driver’s seat and whipped up the horses. Precious time had been lost, and in an endeavour such as this each minute was important.
Through the narrow streets went the fiacre, Fersen alert for any sign that they were followed. The occupants of the fiacre scarcely dared speak to each other. Many possibilities occurred to them; they would feel greatly relieved when they had left Paris behind them.
At length they came to the Barrier, but the berline was not at the spot where Fersen had arranged that it should be waiting for them.
He drew up and looked around him in consternation. There was silence all about them. Fersen descended and went to the door of the fiacre.
‘Something must have happened,’ he said. ‘There may have been an alarm which caused them to move from this spot. I will leave the fiacre here and search awhile. It cannot be far away.’
After half an hour Fersen found the berline; it was about half a mile away and it had not been visible because the lamps were covered up. The driver had been alarmed by the long delay and, when horsemen had ridden past, had felt it necessary to move from the appointed spot. Fersen then drove the fiacre to the berline and the royal family moved from one to the other.
They were now ready to continue the journey; but it had been an uneasy beginning, and they had planned to leave Paris at midnight; it was now two o’clock.
Fersen drove full speed to Bondy where it was necessary to change horses, and while this was being done, Fersen examined the berline, made sure that everything was in order; then he came to the door and said his farewells. His eyes were on the Queen, hers on him.
She said in a quiet voice: ‘This could never have happened but for you.’
‘You have your parts to play,’ he said. ‘Do not forget, Your Majesty, that you are the governess.’
‘If we return,’ said the King, ‘we shall not forget you.’
‘When we return,’ corrected the Queen.
Fersen stood back from the berline; he called in a loud voice: ‘Adieu, Madame de Korff.’
The berline moved forward; Fersen lifted his hat and turned the horse, which he had arranged should be waiting for him at Bondy, towards Le Bourget.
Antoinette thought: In two days’ time we shall meet at Montmédy, but as the first light of dawn showed her his retreating figure she was conscious of foreboding. This had been his endeavour; without him, she did not feel the same confidence, the same certainty that all would be well. Only two days, she reminded herself. But a great deal could happen in two days.
The children awoke.
‘I’m hungry,’ announced the Dauphin. ‘Are we nearly there?’
‘Not long now,’ answered the Queen. ‘And we shall have our picnic now.’
‘A real picnic? In the fields?’
‘No, in the carriage. I will see what we have in the cupboard. No,’ she smiled at Madame de Tourzel who had risen and was about to open the cupboard door, ‘I shall do this. And Elisabeth shall help me. Do not forget that Elisabeth is the maid and I am Madame de Rochet, the governess. Madame de Korff, I beg you sit still and let your servants wait upon you.’
Madame Royale looked bewildered, but the Dauphin lifted his shoulders with delight.
‘You see,’ said the Queen, ‘it is a new sort of masque. You are a little girl, my darling, do not forget that. And I am your governess. You must be a little afraid of me, I think, for I am very stern, and when you speak to me you must not forget to address me as Madame Rochet.’
‘Madame Rochet. Madame Rochet …’ crooned the Dauphin.
Elisabeth brought out the silver platters which Fersen had had put into the coach, for he had deemed it inconceivable that the Queen could eat off anything but gold or silver; the Queen brought out chicken while the King found the wine.
The children laughed merrily. This was indeed a good way to enjoy a picnic. They picked the meat off the bones and threw them out of the window. The Dauphin pretended to be very much afraid of Madame Rochet and, throwing himself wholeheartedly into the game, insisted on Madame Royale’s playing it with him. But Madame Royale, who was thirteen years old, could not be so easily duped, and the tension did not escape her.
At Claye, they picked up the two ladies-in-waiting who had already been there some hours and were delighted to see the berline, for the delay had made them very anxious. The horses were changed and the journey continued.
The King studied the maps, following the route and pointing it out to Madame Royale and the Dauphin.
‘Here, you see, we have left Paris behind us … and been through Bondy and Claye. Now we come to La Ferte. Then we shall go on to Châlons-sur-Marne …’
Oh that they were there! thought the Queen, for after Châlons the worst danger would be over since the cavalry, promised by the Duc de Choiseul and Bouillé, would be waiting for them beyond that town. Then their journey to Montmédy would begin, and at Montmédy Axel would be waiting.
As the journey continued the heat in the berline became oppressive.