Текст книги "Zipporah's Daughter"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Sophie worked indefatigably – and Jeanne with her; and with their help we managed to make the men reasonably comfortable. Armand was in worse shape. His skin was the colour of dirty paper and his eyes completely lustreless; he had lost most of his hair and his jaws were sunken. Those years he had spent in prison had killed the old Armand and left a feeble old man in his place.

His companion, without whom he would never have been able to make the journey from Paris, was responding to treatment and although very weak still was showing signs of recovery, which was more than we could say of Armand.

He told us that he had found Armand outside the prison when the mob trooped in and he had said that he wanted to get to Aubigné. He himself had nowhere to go so he helped Armand and together they crossed Paris. He described something of the scenes there. The people were in revolt. There were meetings everywhere and crowds formed into mobs who went about looting the shops and attacking anyone who looked worth robbing, shouting as they did so ‘A bas les aristocrats.’

I wouldn’t let him talk too much—and Armand not at all. It excited them and they were both desperately weak.

We couldn’t have managed without the help of Jeanne and Sophie. Tante Berthe was very good at knowing what could best be done, and cooking the little food we ate. Lisette was less energetic than the rest of us but she comforted us in a way because she refused to be gloomy and insisted that in time everything would come right.

I had abandoned all thought of leaving France since the arrival of Armand and his companion. I was needed here and I doubted in any case that with the country in the state it was I should be allowed to get very far.

Nothing happened for several days and I was beginning to feel that we should be left alone. There was rioting in Paris.’ There was a revolution in progress, Lisette said; but here, apart from the fact that we had no servants, everything was at least peaceful.

Lisette said to me: ‘Let’s go into the town. We might find out what is happening there and perhaps buy some food.’

I agreed that it was a good idea.

‘It is better for us to look like servants,’ she said. ‘Some of them left in such a hurry that they went without all their clothes. We could find something to wear.’

‘Do you think that is necessary?’

‘A precaution.’

She laughed at me in the dress which I had put on.

‘It reminds me of the time we went to see Madame Rougemont. Ah, no longer the grand lady. Not the Comte’s daughter but a simple serving-maid.’

‘Well, you look the same.’

‘I am, after all, only the niece of the housekeeper. Come on.’

We took two ponies from the stables and rode in on them. It was all there was. The grooms who had left had taken the horses with them. On the outskirts of the town we tied up the ponies and went in on foot.

Crowds were gathering.

‘It looks as though it is a special sort of day,’ said Lisette with a smile.

We passed through the crowd in our simple dresses and the only glances which came our way were those which some men give to women who could be called young and good-looking.

‘It seems as if something special is about to take place,’ I said.

‘Probably someone coming from Paris to speak to them. Look! There is a platform set up in the square.’

‘Shouldn’t we try to buy some food?’ I asked.

‘Haven’t you noticed most of the shops are boarded up?’

‘Surely they are not afraid of a riot here!’

‘Aubigné country is not sacred any more, Lottie.’

She gave a laugh as she said that and I looked at her quickly. Her eyes were shining with excitement.

There was a hush in the crowd as a man began to mount to his rostrum. I stared at him. I knew him at once. L é on Blanchard.

‘But what … ’ I began.

‘Hush,’ whispered Lisette. ‘He is going to speak.’

A cheer went up in the crowd. He raised his hand and there was a deep silence. Then he began to speak.

‘Citizens, the day has come. That which has long been due to us is almost within our grasp. The aristocrats who have ruled us … who have lived in luxury while we starved … the aristocrats who for generations have made us their slaves … are now being conquered. We are the masters now.’

There was a deafening cheer. He held up his hand again.

‘But we are not yet there, comrades. There is work to be done. We have to rout them out of their haunts of luxury and vice. We have to cleanse those haunts. We have to remember that God gave France to the people. What they have used for centuries now belongs to us … if we take it. You have lived your lives in the shadow of the great château. You have slaved for your masters. They have kept you in a state of servile starvation to make you work the harder for them. You have lived in fear. Citizens, I tell you, that is over. It is your turn now. The revolution is upon us. We shall take their châteaux, their gold, their silver, their food, their wine. We shall no longer live on mouldy bread for which we have to pay those hard-earned sous and of which we have often not had enough to buy even that. We will march as the good citizens of Paris have shown us how to. Citizens, it is happening all over the country. We will march on the Château d’Aubigné. We will take that which is ours by right.’

While he was talking understanding flashed upon me. He was the man the Comte and I had seen all those years ago. No wonder I had felt I had seen him before. I had not completely recognized him, for when I had first seen him he had been dressed like a peasant, as he was now. He wore a dark wig which slightly changed his appearance. He did not look quite like the gentleman who had come to tutor our boys. But it was the same man. Dickon had been right. He was an agitator in the service of the Duc d’Orléans whose plan was to bring about a revolution so that he might step into the King’s shoes. As Dickon had said, Blanchard was an Orléanist. The Duc de Soissonson was too and he had come to Aubigné to investigate Armand’s band which had resulted in Armand’s receiving his lettre de cachet …arranged no doubt by men in high places. Orléans … Soissonson …

‘It is monstrous,’ I said.

‘Hush!’ warned Lisette.

I turned to her. She was staring at Léon Blanchard as though entranced.

I whispered: ‘We must get back quickly. We must warn them … ’

‘Are you ready, Citizens?’ asked Blanchard; and there was a roar from the crowd.

‘In good order then we will assemble here at dusk. These duties are best carried out at night.’

I felt as though I was choking. I wanted to shout: This man is a traitor. My father was always good to his people. Our servants lived well. How dare you say we starved them! My father always cared for their welfare. They were never given mouldy bread. And Léon Blanchard, wicked traitor that he was, lived with us … as a member of the family when he deceived us and played the part of tutor.

How we had been deceived. Dickon had been right. If only we had listened to Dickon!

Lisette was gripping my arm. ‘Be careful,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t open your mouth. Come on. Let’s get out of here.’ She almost dragged me through the crowds. We found the ponies and rode back to the château.

‘So that wicked man was a traitor all the time,’ I said.

‘It depends what you mean by traitor,’ replied Lisette. ‘He was true to his cause.’

‘The cause of revolution! What are we going to do? Leave the château?’

‘Where would we go?’

‘Are we going to wait for them to come, then?’

‘The crowd didn’t harm you, did it?’ I looked down at my plain dress. ‘No,’ she went on, ‘you look like a good servant … a woman of the right class.’

‘If they take the château … ’ I began.

Again there was that familiar lifting of her shoulders.

‘Lisette,’ I went on, ‘what’s the matter with you? You don’t seem to care.’

We went into the château. It was very quiet. I thought of the mob listening to the traitor Blanchard and I wondered if I should ever see it like this again.

I said: ‘What are we going to do? We must warn Sophie and Jeanne.’

‘For what purpose?’

‘And Tante Berthe …’ I went on.

‘She will be safe. After all, she is only a servant.’

Lisette had followed me up to my bedroom.

I said: ‘Lisette, did you know that Léon Blanchard was going to be there today.’

She smiled at me mysteriously. ‘You were always so easily deceived, Lottie,’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Léon sent word to me. He and I were great friends … intimate friends. We had such a lot in common, you see.’

‘You … and Léon Blanchard!’

She nodded, smiling. ‘I knew him during those miserable years when I was at the farm. He brought me here.’

I closed my eyes. So much was becoming clear. I remembered the groom who had brought her and that odd feeling I had had of something familiar about him.

‘What does this mean, Lisette?’ I demanded. ‘There is something you are trying to tell me. What has happened to you? You’re different.’

‘I’m not different,’ she said. ‘I was always the same.’

‘You look at me now as though you hate me.’

‘In a way,’ she said reflectively, ‘I do. And yet I am fond of you. I don’t understand my feelings for you. I always loved to be with you. We had such fun together … ’ She began to laugh. ‘The fortune-teller … yes, that was, in a way the beginning.’

‘Lisette,’ I said, ‘do you realize that that wicked man with his mob will be marching on the château at dusk?’

‘What should I do about that, Lottie?’

‘Perhaps we should get away. Hide … ’

‘Who? You and Sophie with Jeanne. What about those sick men? I don’t suppose the mob will care very much about them. They look like scarecrows anyway. Jeanne and Tante Berthe will have nothing to fear. Servants don’t.’

‘I had decided we couldn’t go and leave the men.’

‘Then we stay.’

‘Lisette, you seem … pleased.’

‘I’ll tell you, shall I? I have wanted to so many times. It goes back a long way. We are sisters, Lottie … you … myself … and Sophie. The only difference is that I was never acknowledged as you were.’

‘Sisters! That’s not true, Lisette.’

‘Oh, is it not? I have always known it. I remember our father from my babyhood. Why should he have brought me here if it were not so?’

‘He told me who you were, Lisette.’

‘He told you!’

‘Yes, he did. You are not his daughter. He didn’t know you until you were three or four years old.’

‘That’s a lie.’

‘Why should he lie to me? And if you had been his daughter he would have acknowledged you as such.’

‘He did not because my mother was a poor woman … not like yours … living in a great mansion … as noble as he was almost … and he married her.’

‘I know what happened, Lisette, because he told me. Your mother was his mistress but after you were born. He first discovered you when he visited her and you were there. When your mother was dying she sent for her sister Berthe and asked her to take care of you. The Comte then brought Tante Berthe here as housekeeper and allowed you to stay here and be educated with us because of his affection for your mother.’

‘Lies!’ she cried. ‘That was his story. He did not want to acknowledge me because my mother was only a seamstress.’

I shook my head.

‘Yes,’ she went on, ‘he told you those lies because he wanted to excuse himself. I was never treated quite as one of you, was I? I was always the housekeeper’s niece. I wanted to be acknowledged. Who wouldn’t? And then … Charles came along.

‘You mean Charles, my husband?’

‘Charles. He was fun wasn’t he? But what a fool to go to America. He was going to marry Sophie until that disaster in the Place Louis XV. I thought when my father knew that I was going to have a child he would have arranged the marriage with Charles.’

‘The child … ’

‘Don’t be so innocent, Lottie. Charles saw us both at the fortune-tellers, didn’t he? He always used to say he liked us both and he didn’t know which one he preferred. He used to take me to those rooms which Madame Rougemont let to gentlemen and their friends. I was glad when I knew I was going to have a child. I was silly enough to think that it would make all the difference, that my father would acknowledge me and Charles would marry me. But what did they do to me? They made Tante Berthe take me away and they found a crude farmer husband for me. I shall never forget or forgive. After that I hated the Comte and all he stood for.’

I was so shocked I could only mutter. ‘Yet you wanted more than anything to be part of it!’

‘I hated it, I tell you. I met Léon when he was talking in the town near us. We became friends. My husband died when the mob led by Léon set fire to his granaries … ’

‘So that was done … by Léon!’

She lifted her shoulders and gave me that smile which I was beginning to dread and fear.

‘You are very innocent, Lottie. You would have done so much better to marry your Dickon when you had a chance. He made things uncomfortable for us. He was too clever, wasn’t he? But he is far away now.’

I said slowly: ‘Blanchard was the man you said was a groom lent by your neighbours.’ I was remembering the incident in the stable when I thought I had seen him before. I had been right in that.

‘Of course. Léon thought I could do good work at the château. Besides, it was a home for me and your husband’s son. I wonder you never saw the likeness. I could see it. Every day he reminded me of Charles. But it did not occur to you, did it, dear innocent sister.’

‘Remember, you are not my sister. Lisette, how could you lie to us … all those years? How could you pretend?’

She wrinkled her brows as though trying to think. Then she said: ‘I don’t know. I was so fond of you sometimes. Then I would think of all you had and that we were sisters and how unfair it was. Then I hated you. Then I forgot it and was fond of you again. It doesn’t matter now.’

‘And you knew that Armand was in the Bastille?’

‘Léon did not tell me everything … only what it was necessary for me to know. But I guessed and I wasn’t sorry. Armand deserved what he got. He always looked down on me—he was always the high and mighty Vicomte. It is amusing to think of him in prison.’

‘How can you talk like that!’

‘Easily,’ said Lisette. ‘If you had been humiliated as I have been you would be the same.’

‘And Léon Blanchard told you he was going to be in the town today?’

She nodded. ‘I wanted you to see and hear him. I wanted you to know how things were. I have been longing to tell you for so long. I wanted you to know that I was your sister.’

Tante Berthe had come into the room. She said: ‘There is nothing much left in the kitchens. I have made a little soup. What is the matter?’

I said: ‘We have been into town. Léon Blanchard was there preaching revolution. They will be coming to the château.’

Tante Berthe turned pale. ‘Mon Dieu,’ she murmured.

Lisette said: ‘Lottie has been telling me a tale. She says I am not the Comte’s daughter. As if I did not always know I was. She says the Comte did not know me until I was three or four years old. It isn’t true, is it? It isn’t true?’

Tante Berthe looked steadily at Lisette. She said: ‘The Comte took you in because he was a good and kind gentleman. You and I owe him much. But he was not your father. Your father was the son of a tradesman and he worked in his father’s shop. Your mother told me this before you were born when I came to Paris to try to persuade her to return home. She couldn’t, of course, as she was to have a child. I helped her through her confinement. She insisted on keeping you and this she tried to do through her needlework. She couldn’t make ends meet and started having gentlemen friends who helped her to pay the rent and feed her child.’

‘You mean she was a … prostitute!’

‘No, no,’ cried Tante Berthe fiercely. ‘She only had friends whom she liked … and they helped her because they wanted to. The Comte was one of them. When she knew herself to be dying she asked me to come to her. She wanted me to take care of you. The Comte called when I was there. He was concerned about your mother’s health and he talked to me about the future. He told me that when he had visited her he had discovered that she had a little girl hidden away. He was touched by this. He thought your mother a brave woman. When she died he offered me the post of housekeeper to the château and allowed me to bring you with me.’

‘Lies!’ cried Lisette. ‘All lies!’

‘It’s the truth,’ said Tante Berthe. ‘I swear it in the name of the Virgin.’

Lisette looked as though she were going to burst into tears. I knew that the dream of a lifetime was crumbling about her.

She went on shouting: ‘It is lies … All lies.’

The door opened and Sophie came in.

‘What’s the matter?’ she said. ‘I could hear the shouting in Armand’s room.’

‘Sophie,’ I said, ‘we are in acute danger. The mob will come to the château at dusk. Léon Blanchard is bringing them.’

‘Léon … !’

I said gently: ‘What Dickon suspected was true. Léon Blanchard was not a real tutor. He was here to spy for the Orléanists. The Duc de Soissonson was one of them, too. We have just heard him inciting the mob to march on the château. When he comes with them you will see for yourself.’

‘Léon?’ she repeated in a dazed way.

‘Oh Sophie,’ I said. ‘There has been such deceit. Terrible things are happening everywhere in France. How can we know who is with us and who against us?’

‘I don’t believe that Léon … ’ she began and Lisette began to laugh hysterically.

‘Then I’ll tell you,’ she said. ‘Léon brought me to Lottie. He was my lover before that and when we were here … and still is. You see, even though your father acknowledged you as his daughter, you did not have all your own way. Léon, whom you wanted, was my lover. Charles, who was Lottie’s husband, was my lover. He wasn’t so particular in the bedroom whether my father called me daughter or not. But I am the Comte’s daughter. They are going to try to prove that I was not, but I am, I tell you. I am. I am of noble birth … as noble as either of you. We all have the same father … no matter what anyone says.’

Sophie was looking at me helplessly. I went to her and put my arm about her.

‘It’s true isn’t it,’ she said, ‘that Léon cared about me? He did care a little.’

‘He was here on a mission,’ I said.

‘But he was in love with Lisette all the time. He was only pretending … ’

‘People do pretend sometimes, Sophie. We were all deceived.’

‘And I blamed you. I blamed you for making up tales about him … tales which were not true. I said your lover murdered Armand that you might have my father’s wealth. I said all this of you, Lottie, and I tried to believe it, but I think something inside me rejected it. I didn’t really believe it. Perhaps I always knew that Léon could not have cared for me. It was the same with Charles. When I found that flower in his apartment I started to hate you.’

‘I was never there, Sophie. I lost the flower he bought for me. It was not my flower you found.’

‘What is all this about a flower?’ asked Lisette.

I turned to her. ‘What does it matter now? It was all long ago. Charles bought a flower for me in the street and Sophie found one like it in his bedroom.’

‘A red peony,’ said Lisette. Then she started to laugh. There was an element of hysteria in that laugh. ‘It was I who left the flower behind, Sophie. I dropped it in Charles’s apartment. I borrowed it from Lottie’s room because it matched my dress, I remember. I forgot about it. It was only an artificial flower anyway. It is proof to you, Sophie, that he was my lover. I had his child, you know. Yes, Louis-Charles is his son.’

‘Stop it, Lisette,’ I cried. ‘Stop it.’

‘Why should I? This is the moment of truth. Let us stop deceiving ourselves. Let us all show what we really are.’

The tears were running down Sophie’s cheeks making her hood wet. I put my arms round her and she clung to me.

‘Forgive, Lottie,’ she said. ‘Forgive … ’

I said: ‘When people know they understand. There is nothing to forgive, Sophie.’ I kissed her scarred cheek. ‘Dear Sophie,’ I said, ‘I am glad we are sisters again.’

Lisette and Tante Berthe watched us. Tante Berthe’s practical mind was trying to work out what we should do. Lisette still seemed bemused.

‘You should really get out,’ said Tante Berthe. ‘Perhaps we all should. You certainly, Madame Lottie.’

‘And what of the men?’ I asked.

‘We can’t move them.’

‘I shall stay here,’ I said.

Tante Berthe shook her head and Lisette said: ‘You and I have nothing to fear, Tante Berthe. You are a servant and although I am aristocrat Léon Blanchard is my friend. He will see that I am safe.’

‘Be silent’, cried Tante Berthe. She shook her head and turned away muttering: ‘What is best? What can be done?’

‘There is nothing,’ I replied, ‘but to wait.’

We waited through the long afternoon. The heat was intense. It seemed to me that I was seeing everything with especial clarity. Perhaps that was how it was when one looked Death in the face. I had seen the mob at Léon Blanchard’s meeting and could picture those people marching on the château with the bloodlust in their eyes. I thought of my mother’s stepping out of the shop and finding herself in the midst of such a crowd. I pictured the carriage as I had so often before. I saw the frightened horses. What had she felt in those horrific moments? I had heard of the people’s violence when they had smashed up the town and I knew that human life meant little to them. And as the daughter of the Comte d’Aubigné I was one of the enemy. I had heard that they had hanged one of the merchants from a lamp-post because they said he had put up the price of bread.

I had never before come face to face with death; but I knew that I was facing it now. I was aware of a light-headedness. I felt strangely remote. Fear was there, yes, but not fear of death but of what must happen before it. I knew now how people felt in their condemned cells awaiting the summons.

I looked at the others. Did they feel the same? Armand was too ill to care. He had suffered so much already. His companion was in the same condition. Sophie? I did not think she cared very much. Life was not very precious to her, though she had changed since Armand’s return.

Lisette? I could not understand Lisette. All those years when I had believed her to be my friend she had harboured a hatred of me. I would never forget the triumphant look in her eyes when she considered how I should be made to suffer. I could not believe that she had really hated me all those years because I was recognized as the Comte’s daughter and she thought she should be.

What did I know of Lisette? What did I know of anyone, even myself? People were made up of contradictions and when one nurtures a great grievance through life that must have a lasting effect. Least of all I understood Lisette. Why did she care so much for birth? She was on the side of the revolutionaries. She hated the aristocrats and yet she insisted she was one of them.

The sound of a bee buzzing at the window caught my attention. I thought how wonderful it was to see living creatures, to look at the blue sky, to hear the gentle lap of the water of the moat against the green earth. All that I had taken for granted until I was confronted by the thought that I should never see or hear them again.

Tante Berthe said she thought we should all be together. She would bring the men to my bedroom if we would help her. They could both lie on my bed while we waited.

I nodded and with the help of Sophie and Jeanne we brought the men in.

They looked very ill.

I told Armand what was happening. He nodded and said: ‘You should get away. You shouldn’t stay here. Leave us.’

‘There is nowhere we can go, Armand,’ I told him. ‘And in any case we wouldn’t leave you.’

‘No,’ said Sophie firmly, ‘we should not leave you.’

Armand became animated then. ‘You must,’ he cried. ‘I have seen the mob. That day in Paris. You have no idea what they are like. They cease to be men and women. They are wild animals … ’

I said: ‘Armand, we are not going to leave you.’

‘You … ’ he insisted. ‘You should go. The servants could stay. They might be safe.’

‘Lie back,’ I commanded. ‘Rest while you can. The servants have already gone and we are staying.’

It was a long afternoon.

Sophie sat at my feet on a footstool. Jeanne was close to her. I knew that Jeanne would never leave her as long as they both lived.

I said: ‘Sophie, you have a wonderful friend in Jeanne. Have you ever thought how lucky you are to have her?’

She nodded.

‘She loves you,’ I went on.

‘Yes, she loves me. The others … ’

‘It is over. They would never have been faithful. Charles wasn’t to me, and Léon Blanchard is only faithful to a cause.’

‘They will take us, Lottie … you, Armand and me because of our father.’

Lisette was listening and she said: ‘And they will take me, but I shall be safe because Léon will not let them hurt me.’

Sophie flinched and Jeanne whispered: ‘I should never let you be hurt, Mademoiselle Sophie.’

There was a long silence. We were all listening intently. We must all have been thinking that they might not wait until evening.

‘I wish I could go back,’ said Sophie. ‘I’d be different. I would say, I lost so much—’ she touched her face beneath her hood ‘—but it showed me how truly fortunate I was in Jeanne.’

Jeanne said: ‘Don’t, my precious one. Don’t upset yourself. It’s bad for your face when you cry.’

We were silent again and I thought: If I could have foreseen … if I could go back … how differently I should act. I could see Sabrina’s face. ‘Don’t go,’ she had said. ‘Wait till Dickon comes back.’ I should have waited for Dickon. He had not really been out of my thoughts although I had tried to prevent his intruding on them. Of what use was it to think of him now? It only meant bitter recriminations against myself for my folly.

I should have married him. Heaven knew, I had wanted to. I should have taken what I could get. I should have forgotten my doubts … my determination to accept nothing but perfection.

If I could only turn to him now … if I could shut out my thoughts of the perfidy of Lisette, the unfaithfulness of Charles, of death, if I could forget the wasted years, I would be content. But it was now too late.

‘Too late,’ Sophie whispered it. I laid my hand on her shoulder and she leaned against my knee.

I said: ‘But we know now. I am glad we came to an understanding while there was still time.’

It would be dark soon. The danger hour was near.

Lisette left and did not return until the darkness deepened. I gasped when I saw her. She was wearing one of my gowns—one which I had had made some time ago for a ball. It was one of the most elaborate gowns I had ever possessed. The skirt was of plum-coloured velvet and chiffon of a lighter shade; the tightly fitted bodice was studded with pearls. About her neck was the diamond necklace which the Comte had given my mother on their wedding-day and which was now mine.

‘Lisette!’ I cried as she entered.

‘Are you mad?’ said Tante Berthe.

Lisette laughed at us. ‘I should have had these things,’ she said. ‘I have as much right to them as Lottie has—more, because I am older. My father treated me badly but now he is dead.’

‘Lisette,’ I said, ‘when the mob see you like that what do you think they will do?’

‘I will tell them, “Yes, I am an aristocrat but I have always been for the people I have worked with Léon Blanchard. Ask him. He will tell you I speak the truth.” I shall come to no harm then.’

‘You foolish girl!’ cried Tante Berthe.

Lisette shook her head and laughed. She came and stood close to me, her hands on her hips, taunting, and I thought: Her obsession has driven her mad.

‘I always wanted this dress,’ she said, ‘and the necklace goes with it so well. It belongs to me now. Everything here belongs to me. It is my right and Léon will see that it is given to me.’

I turned away from her. I could not bear the look in her eyes. I thought: Truly she is mad.

They were coming. I could hear the shouts in the distance. I went to the window. There was a strange light out there. It came from the torches they were carrying.

I heard their chanting voices. ‘Au château! À bas les aristocrats! À la lanterne!’

I thought of the lifeless body of the merchant hanging from the lamp-post and I felt sick with fear.

They were coming nearer and nearer.

Tante Berthe said: ‘The drawbridge will stop them.’

‘Not for long,’ I answered.

We looked at each other fearfully and Lisette glided from the room.

‘Where has she gone?’ asked Sophie.

‘To take off that finery if she has any sense,’ retorted Tante Berthe.

I said: ‘I am going to find her. I am going to talk to her.’

I found her mounting the spiral staircase to the tower. I saw her standing on the battlements. The light from the torches had thrown a fierce glow over the scene for the mob was very close … right at the castle gates.

She stood there on the battlements. She looked magnificent with the diamonds sparkling at her throat.

The mob shouted when they saw her.

‘Lisette,’ I called. ‘Come down. Come down.’

She held up her hand and there was silence. She called out to the mob: ‘I am the daughter of the Comte d’Aubigné … an aristocrat by birth.’

The mob started to shout. ‘À bas les aristocrats. À la lanterne!’

She shouted above the noise and eventually they were quiet, listening.

‘But I have worked for your cause. My friend is Léon Blanchard and he will confirm this. I have worked for you, my friends, against the overlords, against those who caused the price of bread to be so high, against those whose extravagances have impoverished France. I will prove to you that I am your friend. I will let down the drawbridge so that you may enter the castle.’

There was a roar of applause.

She dashed past me. I thought of trying to stop her. She would let them in but did it matter? They would not allow the drawbridge to stop them for very long.

She would save herself at the cost of Sophie’s life and mine. It was the final act of hatred.

I went back to the room. They were all waiting expectantly. It would not be long now. The mob would soon be storming the castle.

Jeanne did a strange thing. She untied Sophie’s hood and took it off so that the hideous disfigurement was displayed. ‘Trust me,’ she whispered to Sophie, who had gasped with dismay. ‘I know these people. I think it best. Trust me.’