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Silent Yearning |
Chapter 7: Search
The bright light of the noonday sun fell through the dustblind window grates to the battered table board and drew shadow-cracknels onto the countless sheets of paper in front of Oscar. With an elongated sigh she arranged the documents.
It was astonishing how many theorists, philosophers, analysts and economy theorists seemed to appear from nowhere and wanted to contribute to a better, new France. She shook out her cramped hand before she immersed the feather in the inkpot again and was set to write. Flabbergastedly Oscar paused. Vociferation and furious yells clanged to her in the small room and they did not only come from the building. They came from outside. They did not come from some single throats, but from hundreds of throats. They resembled an angry roar of a giant animal. Rapidly she put her chair aside and walked to the window. At the Place du Parivis a determined crowd teamed up. Mainly consisting of women, the people raised their fists angrily towards the sky. Many were armed with canes, and not a small part with weapons. Did a second storming of the Bastille begin?
Behind Oscar the door bumped open rigorously. With an aggressive hiss Madame Merman came into the room. Her eyes sprinkled thunderbolts.
�Those damn bastards!�
�Who?� Oscar looked at her quizzically. Madame Merman�s teeth gnashed out of anger.
�The commanders of the Royal Guard. Those bastards are supposed to have scrunched our tricolour with their feet at a banquet. Our tricolour! Our symbol of the Revolution! They will pay for that.�
�What are your plans?�
She swivelled her cane triumphantly. �The market-women from the market quarters got together. And not only them, there are more people joining from minute to minute. This day�which day is it today?�
�It�s the 5th of October.�
She nodded. A frightening fire was in her eyes. �This day will go down in history as well. We�re marching to Versailles!�
Oscar turned pale. To Versailles? Marie Antoinette? They marched against the king and the queen. She reflected. Since when have the people turned away? Since when has the hate of the third estate become overpowering? At what points could she have warned the queen better, talk more persistently to her? Has she been too careless?
�Fran�oise?� Oscar was startled from the past. �What�s up with you? Order your soldiers to help us!�
�There is nobody under my command anymore, Madame Merman.�
�I understand!� The revolutionary looked up to her grimly, turned around and almost banged into Rosalie. The chest of the young woman rose and fell. She seemed to have been running.
�The little Madame Chatelet. Come, we�re marching to Versailles. Now we will bring the queen to her knees. We were starving long enough because of her extravagance.�
�No, Madame Merman, I�m staying here.� Rosalie�s gaze was searching helplessly for Oscar�s eyes.
�As you wish!� Angrily the old one pushed her aside and disappeared.
Oscar walked towards the door.
�NO!� Rosalie tried to block the entrance with her body. �No, please Oscar, don�t do this!�
�Get out of my way, Rosalie!� Oscar looked down to her strictly.
�Lady Oscar, you can�t go to the queen to warm her. It�s too late!�
�Do you really think you could stop me by blocking the door?�
�It is too late,� Rosalie repeated suppliantly. �The events cannot be stopped anymore. Stay here! You are now fighting on our side. Have you forgotten?�
Oscar looked at her silently and for a long time. The furious women had already left the place and moved towards the castle like a giant centipede.
�Come with me!� Oscar�s dress rustled quietly when she effortlessly brushed Rosalie aside.
�But Lady Oscar? What are you up to?�
�The house is deserted. Everyone left it to gather with the market-women. Now is the best time to find out something about Andr�s whereabouts.�
�Do you want to search in the house?� Rosalie hurried to follow her.
�Yes, I have to start somewhere after all.�
�Oh no, where do you want to go now?� Rosalie stepped from one leg to the other pusillanimously.
�We did not find any documents that could help us in these rooms.� Oscar opened the front door carefully and looked around. No one was seen far and wide. The sun wandered to the northwest and reflected in the colourful window glass of the cathedral. Determinedly she stepped on the street and crossed the Place with wide steps.
�Bernard said that Robespierre often lingers in Notre Dame. We will continue searching there. I can�t imagine that notations don�t exist anywhere. Robespierre completed his degree to be an advocate. It would infringe the principles of an advocate not to set out anything in writing.�
�No, don�t enter Notre Dame, Lady Oscar!� Rosalie ran behind her helplessly.
�What is supposed to happen, Rosalie? I am only going into a church.�
�Maybe the same thing that happened when you went to the Palais Royale back then, to look for the Black Knight. Do you want to be captured again?�
�You are taking it too far, Rosalie�� Oscar stemmed against the heavy wooden gate of the old cathedral.
Slowly one of the mighty gate wings moved and both women could slip into the dark interior of the cathedral. High candles lighted up the altarpiece at the end of the cloister. Their steps resounded hollowly on the blank flagstones when they hurried along the kneelers to the back part of the nave. They went around the altar and turned to their right until they came to a door. Unluckily for them the door was closed. On the other side all passages were barred as well. Oscar considered opening the door forcibly, but the thick oak wood with the big iron mountings just seemed too mighty to give in to her kick. Filled with bitterness she leaned against the cool wood.
�Alas, Andr�, where are you?� Her voice threw back a sad echo, full of bitterness and pain. Angrily she battered her clenched fist against the wood. Tears streamed down her face.
We could have been so happy, Rosalie. It�s all my fault. I should have recognized his love sooner.�
Rosalie softly took her arm. �Come home, Lady Oscar! Bernard is already waiting. Don�t give up your hope!� With a sigh she let Rosalie lead her outside.
They left the Ile de la Cit� over the Pont Neuf. The Seine flowed under them. The golden light of the sunrays danced over the water. Already they heard the distant shouting of many people. Rosalie and Oscar stopped at the Place de l�Ecole.
Over the Quai de la M�gisserie they saw the masses coming.
More and more people surrounded a carriage. A frightening small number of members of the Royal Guard tried to keep the people away from the splendid carriage with no success. The people shrieked and whistled. Men swayed their hats with the tricolour. Meddlesome boys ducked under the huge horses and knocked on the door of the carriage full of wantonness. The mob seemed to dance.
�What do they plan?� Oscar asked.
�They want the king and the queen to reside in Paris again,� Rosalie answered and expressed the attitude of the Third Estate.
Oscar shook her head stunnedly. �Versailles could not provide protection for the royal couple from those crowds. It�s not fortified, like the Bastille.�
Loudly, wildly and rapturously the Parisian population escorted their king to HIS Paris. From now on the royal family would reside in the Tuileries.
The high wheels of the royal carriage clattered steadily over the pavement of the broad alley. Unevenness were cushioned by the springing and the big upholstery of the seating benches. Next to them the Seine streamed.
While the crowd moved along from the outside and loudly sang �To Paris, to Paris,� Marie Antoinette pushed herself deeper into the bolster. She bowed to the rush of the people. He heart burned out of ignominy. She would never forgive them, never accept the end of the reign of the Bourbons. Her children cuddled in the warm embrace of their royal mother. The king tried to smile tensely. For hours his facial expression had not changed. Once in a while he bestowed the mob a majestic wink with his hands. The queen did not make an attempt to force herself to smile. The crowd did not want to see her smile. The opening of the Estates-General when the deputies greeted her with cold contempt, the intrusion in Versailles around her, to attack her, the queen, showed her how much she fell from favour with the people. Marie Antoinette suffered with dignity and grace, but they would not get a smile.
They almost reached the Tuileries, their future residence. The queen looked out of the window without paying attention to the crowd. Her gaze slid to the countless roofs and church spires of Paris. Along the Seine trees with red golden crowns and the last green of the past summer adorned the vicinity. The horizon slowly adopted the colour of the early dusk.
The carriage approached the Place de l�Ecole. The sun threw its last rays to the figure who stood at the foot of the Pont Neuf. The yellow shine intermingled with the blond hair of the tall woman. �Oscar?� For a last time Marie Antoinette looked into the unmistakably blue eyes, then the crowd swallowed her former friend. Just seconds later uncertainty who the figure really was drained her.
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