The important day had arrived. The sun was shining brilliantly and this seemed a good omen. There would be few people in the city, I whispered to Elisabeth; they would be out in the country on such a day. Madame Rochereuil had gone off to visit her sick friend; and the day passed very slowly so that I thought it would never end. But outwardly it appeared to be an ordinary day, which was as we wanted it.
At last it was supper time; we lingered as usual, but naturally there was not the same ceremony as we had had to endure at Versailles. At least we could be thankful for this. I went to my bedroom and from there hurried to my daughter’s on the first floor. The waiting woman, Madame Brunier, opened the door. I told her that she must dress Madame Royale as quickly as possible and be prepared to slip out of the chateau with Madame de Neuville, the Dauphin’s waiting woman. A cabriolet was waiting for them at the Pont-Royal; they were to leave Paris at once and wait for us at Claye.
My daughter was old enough to guess what this meant. She did not ask questions. Poor child, she was being brought up in an odd world. She looked a little surprised at the simple dress we had made for her; it was cotton with little blue flowers on a gosling-green background pretty enough for the daughter of a Russian lady; scarcely a Princesse’s gown.
I kissed her and held her against me for a few seconds.
“My darling Mousseline,” I whispered.
“You will obey quickly?”
And she nodded and said, “Yes, Maman,” almost reproach fully as though she was surprised I should ask.
Then to my son’s room. He was already awake and gave a cry of delight when he saw me.
“Maman,” he cried.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going where there are a lot of soldiers.”
“May I take my sword? Quick, bring me my sword, Madame. And my boots.
I’m going to be a soldier. “
He was dismayed when he saw what he was to wear:
a girl’s dress!
“Oh … is it a play, then?” he asked.
“So we are going to be disguised.” He began to laugh. He loved playacting.
“And at night too,” he added.
“That is the best time for plays.”
‘now, my little Chou d’Amour, you must be quiet and quick and do what you’re told. Everything depends on that. “
He nodded conspiratorially.
“Trust Chou d’Amour, Maman.”
“I do, my darling,” I said kissing him.
It was a quarter to eleven. Axel had worked out times very carefully and we should be on our way. The plan was that the children with Madame de Tourzel should leave first. I had been against this, for I could not bear to think of the children’s beginning the perilous journey without me, but Axel would be with them until I joined them and that had to be my consolation.
Madame de Tourzel picked up the Dauphin, and, taking my daughter’s hand, I led the way to the apartments of one of the gentlemen of the bedchamber who had left Paris only the day before, consequently his apartments were empty. I had the key to these apartments and we went in. From there we stepped into the Cour des Princes through a door which was unguarded. Waiting there was Axel. I scarcely recognised him in his coachman’s uniform.
In the middle of the courtyard was the citadine which was to take them to the rendezvous in the Rue de l”Echelle at the corner of the Place du Petit-Carrousel.
Axel lifted the Dauphin into the carriage; Madame Royale followed with Madame de Tourzel, and Axel shut the door. He looked at me for a brief second, and although he dared not speak he was telling me that he would defend them with his life if need be. Then he leaped into the coachman’s seat, cracked his whip and the dtadine moved, off.
I felt sick with apprehension. What if my children should be recognised? What if my son in his excitement at the adventure should betray them? What if they should be attacked? Memories of faces I had seen in the mob kept coming into my mind; I kept thinking of those dirty bloodstained hands touching my darlings.
But Axel was there to defend them. His love for me would give him the strength of ten men and the cunning to outwit a mob of savages.
But I must not stand here in the Cour des Princes. If I were recognised the whole plan would fail. I was courting disaster; I went quickly back into the palace through the empty apartments to the drawing-room, where Provence and his wife were saying goodbye. I embraced them and wished them good fortune. He and his wife had never been friends to me, but misfortune had softened resentments. Provence was more of a realist than Louis. Perhaps had he been the King . But who could say? Now, though, rivalry had gone. The only goal of us all was to preserve the Monarchy.
I heard them leave through those empty apartments. In their shabby carriages they left the Tuileries and were on their way.
I left the King in conference with La Fayette and went to my room. My women undressed me; the servants fastened the shutters and I was alone. I looked at the clock. It was eleven-fifteen—the longest half-hour I had ever known.
Madame Thiebaut came into the room. I was out of bed in a second and she was helping me to put on the grey gown and black mantle. There was a large hat with a veil falling from it to shade my face. I looked unlike myself-but I was ready.
Madame Thiebaut slipped back the bolt on the door and I started out. I jumped back in terror. There was a sentry outside my door. I shut the door quietly and looked at Madame Thiebaut. What now? They had heard.
They were waiting for me to go, and then . they would stop me. Had they already stopped the citadinef What was happening to my children, to my lover?
Madame Thiebaut said she would slip out and that might engage the sentry’s attention; when his back was turned I must somehow cross the corridor and reach those empty apartments. It was a desperate plan; but it had to be.
And we did it. I had always been light on my feet, and spurred on by the thought of the children, I dashed across the corridor to the staircase and flew down. I stood for a second listening; there was no sound of commotion. I had succeeded.
Outside the unguarded door of the empty apartment the loyal guard who was to conduct me to the rendezvous in the Rue de L’Echelle was waiting. He was disguised as a courier and I scarcely recognised him.
“Madame,” he whispered, and I could sense his agitation. The affair of the sentry had delayed me almost ten minutes. You should take my arm.”
I did so and we walked across the Cour des Princes in the manner, I hoped, of a courier and his wife or mistress.
No one looked at us. It is succeeding, I thought. Soon I shall be with the children.
It was fantastic. Here I was walking through the streets of Paris on the arm of a courier, brushing shoulders with men and women who did not give me a second glance . fortunately. I wondered what they would say, what they would do, if someone suddenly recognised the Queen. But it was something I dared not think of.
How little I knew of our capital city! The alleys and byways were new to me. All I knew of it were the palaces, the Opera House, the theatres. My companion drew up suddenly with a start, for a coach was coming towards us and before it walked the torchbearers in the livery of La Fayette. I was quickly drawn into the dark shadow. I lowered my head, but through my veil I saw the General. There was one second when, had he looked into my face, he who knew me so well would have recognised me, and that would have been the end of everything.
But luck at that moment was with me. He did not glance at the woman on the pavement and his coach went rattling on. I felt dizzy with the shock, and I heard the man beside me whisper: “Thank God, Madame! A lucky escape.”
“Perhaps,” I murmured, ‘he would not have recognised me in this. “