第211章 JOSEPHINE.(2)

"I!" cried Fouche, in amazement. "But you know that it is impossible, for you have heard my conversation with the consul. He himself said, 'The republic demands a royal victim. If it is not this so-called King Louis, let it be the Duke d'Enghien, for a victim must fall, in order to intimidate the royalists, and bring peace at last."

"But I will not have you bring human victims," cried Josephine; "the republic shall no longer be a cruel Moloch, as it was in the days of the guillotine. You shall, and you must, save the son of Queen Marie Antoinette. I desire to have peace in my conscience, that I may live without reproach, and be happier perhaps than now."

"But it is impossible," insisted Fouche. "You have heard yourself that if, before the sun goes down, Louis be not imprisoned, the sun of my good fortune will have set."

"And I told you, Fouche, that if you do this--if you become a regicide a second time--I will be your unappeasable enemy your whole life long; I will undertake to avenge on you the death of the queen and her son; I will follow your every step with my hate, and will not rest till I have overthrown you. And you know well that Bonaparte loves me, that I have influence with him, and that what I mean to do, I accomplish at last by prayers, tears, and frowns. So do not exasperate me, Fouche; do not make me your irreconcilable enemy. Save the son of the king whom you killed, conciliate the shades of his unhappy parents. Fouche, we are in the cabinet of the queen! Here she often tarried, here she often pressed her son to her heart, and asked God's blessing on him. Fouche, the spirit of Marie Antoinette is with us, and she will know it if you in pity spare the life of her son. Marie Antoinette will accuse you at the throne of God, and plead with God to show you no compassion, if you refuse to be merciful to her son. Fouche, in the name of the queen--on my knees--I implore you, save her son!"

And Josephine, her face bathed in tears, sank before him and raised her folded hands suppliantly to Fouche. The minister, deeply moved, pale with the recollections which Josephine awakened within him, stooped down to her, and bade her arise; and when she refused, and begged and threatened, and wept, his obstinacy was at last touched, or perhaps his prudence, which counselled him to make a friend, rather than an enemy, out of the all-powerful wife of the future emperor.

"Rise, madame," he said. "What mortal is able to resist your requests, since Bonaparte himself cannot? I will save your protege, whatever shall come to me afterward from it."

She sprang up, and in the wildness of her joy threw her beautiful arms around Fouche's neck, and kissed him.

"Fouche," she said, "I give you this kiss in the name of Queen Marie Antoinette. It is a kiss of forgiveness, and of blessing. You swear to me that you will save him?"

"I swear it, madame!"

"And I swear to you that as soon as he is saved, and Bonaparte's anger can no longer reach him, I will confess all to my husband, and put it in such a Light that Bonaparte shall thank and reward you.

Now tell me, how you will save him."

"I shall only be able if you will help me, madame."

"I am ready for any thing--that you know well. Tell me what I shall do."

"You must yourself direct a few lines to the young man, conjuring him in the name of his mother to fly, to save himself from the anger of the First Consul--to leave Europe."

"Oh! Fouche, how sly you are!" said Josephine, sadly.

"You want my handwriting, in order to justify yourself to the First Consul in case of emergency, very good. I will write the billet."

She hastened to her table, dashed a few words upon paper, and then passed the note to Fouche. "Read it," she said; "it contains all that is necessary, does it not?"

"Yes, madame; and you have written in such beautiful and moving words, that the young man will be melted, and will obey you. Will you now have the goodness to put the note in an envelope and to address it?"

She folded it, and put it into an envelope. "To whom shall I address it?" she then asked.

"Address it to King Louis XVII."

She did so with a quick stroke of the pen and handed the letter to Fouche. "Take it," she said, "it is your justification. And in order that you may be entirely secure," she continued, with a slight smile, "retain this letter yourself. What I would say to this young man I would rather communicate by word of mouth."

"How," cried Fouche, " you want--"

"To see and speak with the king," she said, sorrowfully, "to beg his forgiveness for myself and Bonaparte. Hush! do not oppose me, I am resolved upon it. I want to see the young man."

"But he cannot come here, madame--here, into the very den of the lion."

"No, not here, into the desecrated palace of the kings," she answered, bitterly. "No, he cannot come here--I shall go to him."

"You are jesting, madame, it is impossible. You, the wife of the First Consul, you will--"

"I want to fulfil a duty of gratitude and of loyalty, Fouche. In my heart I still feel myself the subject of the queen. Let me follow the call of my heart! Listen! My carriage stands ready. I was intending to drive to my friend Madame Tallien. I will take a pleasure-drive instead. In the Bois de Boulogne I will cause the carriage to stop, send it away, and return on foot. You will await in there with a fiacre and take me to the king."

"It shall be so," said Fouche. "Your will shall be my law. I only ask that you hasten, for you know well that I have much to do to-day. I shall take advantage of the time to procure for the young man the necessary passports for travel. But, madame, you must help him leave the city. For you know that the gates are all closed."

"I will tell Bonaparte that I am troubled to be in the city, now that it is so shut in. I will drive out to St. Cloud. His carriage can follow mine, and if the gate-keeper puts hinderances in the way, I will command him to let Louis pass. Now let us hasten!"