CHAPTER XXIII.
THE ROYAL LOCKSMITH.
As the King had undertaken a very important piece of locksmith work, he
sent his valet Hue to beg General Lafayette to come into his smithy.
It was on the second floor above his bedroom, with inner and outer
stairs.
Since morning he had been hammering away at the work for which Master
Gamain gave him praise and so much regret that the politicians should
take him away from it to trouble about foreign countries.
Perhaps he wanted to show the Commander of the National Guard that
however weak as a monarch, he was mighty as a Tubal Cain.
On the road Count Louis had time to meditate; and he concluded that the
Queen knew nothing of his errand. He would have to study the King’s
reception and see if he did not give some sign of better understanding
what brought him to Paris than his cousin the marquis.
The valet did not know Bouille so that he only announced the general.
“Ah, it is you, marquis,” said the King, turning. “I must ask pardon for
calling you up here, but the smith assures you that you are welcome in
his forge. A charcoal-burner once said to my ancestor Henry IV.: ‘Jack
is king in his own castle.’ But you are master in the smithy as in the
palace.”
Louis spoke much in the same way as Marie Antoinette.
“Sire, under whatever circumstances I present myself to your Majesty,”
said Lafayette, “and whatever costume your Majesty is in, the King will
be ever the sovereign and I the faithful subject and devoted servant.”
“I do not doubt that, my lord; but you are not alone. Have you changed
your aid-de-camp?”
“This young officer, Sire, whom I ask leave to introduce, is my cousin,
Count Louis Bouille, captain in the Provence Dragoons.”
“Oh, son of Marquis Bouille, commander of Metz?” said the King, with a
slight start not escaping the young man.
“The same, Sire,” he spoke up quickly.
“Excuse me not knowing you, but I have short sight. Have you been long
in town?”
“I left Metz five days ago; and being here without official furlough but
under special permission from my father, I solicited my kinsman the
marquis for the honor of presentation to your Majesty.”
“You were very right, my lord, for nobody could so well present you at
any hour, and from no one could the introduction come more agreeably.”
The words “at any hour” meant that Lafayette had the public and private
entry to the King. The few words from the sovereign put the young count
on his guard. The question about his coming signified that he wanted to
know if Charny had seen his father.
Meanwhile Lafayette was looking round curiously where few penetrated; he
admired the regularity with which the tools were laid out. He blew the
bellows as the apprentice.
“So your Majesty has undertaken an important work, eh?” queried
Lafayette, embarrassed how to talk to a King who was in a smutty apron,
with tucked up sleeves and had a file in his hand.
“Yes, general, I have set to making our magnus opus a lock. I tell you
just what I am doing or we shall have Surgeon Marat saying that I am
forging the fetters of France. Tell him it is not so, if you lay hold of
him. I suppose you are not a smith, Bouille?”
“At least I was bound apprentice, and to a locksmith, too.”
“I remember, your nurse’s husband was a smith and your father, although
not much of a student of Rousseau acted on his advice in ‘Emile’ that
everybody should learn a craft, and bound you to the workbench.”
“Exactly; so that if your Majesty wanted a boy----“
“An apprentice would not be so useful to me as a master,” returned the
King. “I am afraid I have ventured on too hard a job. Oh, that I had my
teacher Gamain, who used to say he was a crafts-master above the
masters.”
“Is he dead, my lord?”
“No,” replied the King, giving the young gentleman a glance for him to
be heedful; “he lives in Versailles, but the dear fellow does not dare
come and see me at the Tuileries for fear he will get an ill name. All
my friends have gone away, to London, Turin or Coblentz. Still, my dear
general, if you do not see any inconvenience in the old fellow coming
with one of his boys to lend me a hand, I might ask him to drop in some
day.”
“Your Majesty ought to know perfectly that he can see and send for
anybody.”
“Yes, on condition that you sentries search them as the revenue officers
do those suspected of smuggling; poor Gamain will believe he is to be
hanged, drawn and quartered if they found his bag of tools on him and
took his three-cornered file for a stiletto!”
“Sire, I do not know how to excuse myself to your Majesty, but I am
answerable for your person to the Powers of Europe, and I cannot take
too many precautions for that precious life to be protected. As for the
honest fellow of whom we are speaking, the King can give what orders he
pleases.”
“Very well; thank you, marquis; I might want him in a week or ten
days--him and his ’prentice,” he added, with a glance at Bouille; “I
could notify him by my valet Durey, who is a friend of his.”
“He has only to call to be shown up to the King; his name will suffice.
Lord preserve me from getting the title of your jailer, Sire; never was
the monarch more free; and I have even desired your Majesty to resume
hunting and riding out.”
“Thank you, but no more hunts for me! Besides, you see I have something
to keep me in doors, in my head. As for traveling, that is another
matter; the last trip from Versailles to Paris cured me of the desire to
travel, in such a large party at all events.”
He threw a glance to Bouille who ventured to blink to show that he
understood.
“Are you soon going back to your father?” inquired the King of the
latter.
“Sire, I am leaving Paris in a couple of days to pay a visit to my
grandmother, living in Versailles; I am bound to pay my respects. Then I
am charged by my father to attend to a rather important family matter,
for which I expect to see the person who will give me the directions in
about a week. So I shall hardly be with my father before the first week
in December, unless the King has particular reasons for me to see him
sooner.”
“No, my lord, take your time; go to Versailles and transact your
business and when done, go and tell the marquis, that I do not forget
him as one of my faithful lieges, and that I will speak of him one of
these days to General Lafayette for him to advance him.”
Lafayette smiled faintly at this allusion to his omnipotence.
“Sire,” he said, “I should have long ago recommended Marquis Bouille to
your Majesty had he not been my kinsman. The fear of raising the cry
that I am looking after my family alone prevented me doing him this
justice.”
“This chimes in nicely, then; we will speak of this matter again.”
“The King will kindly allow me to say that my father would consider any
change of a post a disgrace that robbed him of the chance to serve your
Majesty particularly.”
“Oh, that is fully understood, count,” responded Louis the King, “and
Marquis Bouille shall not be moved without it being according to his
desires and mine. Let General Lafayette and I manage this, and you run
to your pleasure-making without altogether forgetting business. Good
bye, gentlemen!”
He dismissed them with a majestic manner in singular contrast with the
vulgar attire.
“Come, come,” he said to himself, when the door was shut. “I believe the
young blade has comprehended me, and that in a week or so we shall have
Master Gamain coming to aid me, _with his ’prentice_.”