‘A little mischief,’ I said; and just at that moment I saw a maid running across the lawn and behind her a man. I stood up but I did not recognize him immediately. It was my father, and I had never seen him look as he did then. He seemed to have aged by at least twenty years and what was so unusual for him, he was carelessly dressed and his cravat was ruffled.
I knew something terrible had happened.
‘Father!’ I cried.
‘Lottie.’ There was desolation in his voice.
He took me into his arms and I cried out: ‘What is it? Tell me … quickly.’
I drew away from him and saw the tears on his cheeks.
I stammered: ‘My mother … ’
He nodded, but he could not speak. Lisette was beside me. She said: ‘Is there anything I can do?’
I replied: ‘Perhaps you would take Claudine and leave us. Father,’ I went on, ‘come and sit down. Tell me what has happened.’
He let me lead him to the seat which Lisette had just vacated. I was vaguely aware of her taking a rather bewildered and inclined-to-protest Claudine across the grass.
‘You have just arrived. You must be worn out. Why … ’
‘Lottie,’ he said, ‘your mother is dead.’
‘No!’ I murmured.
He nodded. ‘Gone! She’s gone, Lottie. I shall never see her again. I could kill them … every single one of them. Why her? What had
‘But why … why my mother?’ I was trying to think of her gone, but I could only think of this poor broken man who now had to live his life without her.
‘Tell me what happened,’ I begged. ‘Talk … please … I must know.’
‘How could I have guessed how it would be? That morning she went off into the town … just as she had so many times before. She wanted to go to the milliner’s. She talked about the hat she was having made. She asked me about the colour of the feathers.’
‘Yes,’ I said soothingly. ‘And then she went to the milliner’s … ’
‘In the carriage. She had two grooms with her and her lady’s maid.’
In the carriage! I remembered it. A glorious vehicle with his crest emblazoned on it in gold.
‘I did not know that the day before one of the agitators had been preaching in the town. He had stirred them up to riot. It is going on all over France … not in any great degree and we don’t hear where it is happening, but they are working the people up in the remotest places … ’
‘Yes,’ I urged him. ‘Yes?’ I felt he was putting off telling me the dreadful truth because he could not bear to speak of it.
‘While she was in the milliner’s the riot started. It was at the bakery. She came out and must have heard the people shouting. She and her maid got into the carriage. It was immediately surrounded by the mob.’
‘Oh no,’ I murmured, and I recalled the occasion when I had been with the Comte and we had heard a man preaching revolution. I had never forgotten the fanaticism in his eyes.
‘The coachman tried to break through the crowd. It was the only thing to do.’
‘And then … ?’ I asked.
He shook his head. ‘I can’t bear to think of it. Some of those criminals seized the horses … tried to stop them. The carriage was overturned and the frightened horses tried to dash through the crowd. One of the grooms was saved, though badly hurt. The rest … ’
I put my arms round him. I tried to comfort him, but that was impossible. He sat for what seemed a long time, saying nothing, just staring blankly ahead.
I don’t remember much of the rest of that day. A shock such as this one had stunned me as it had him.
It was a week since he had come to tell me of my mother’s death but I still could not entirely believe that it had happened. I know my father tried to convince himself that he was dreaming, and that this overwhelming tragedy was a nightmare which he had conjured up out of a fevered imagination. The only comfort we could derive was from each other. We talked often of my mother, for that seemed to soothe us both and we were constantly together. I knew he could not sleep and Amélie, who was very sympathetic and eager to do all she could to help, made soothing possets conducive to sleep and I made him take them before retiring. In this way he did get a measure of rest. Sometimes he slept late into the mornings and I was pleased because that shortened the day.
I was in his room one morning when he awoke and for a few seconds he seemed happy, not remembering where he was. Then I glimpsed the man I had known. But for how briefly! It was tragic to watch the realization of what had happened dawn on him. I knew that he was never going to be happy again and he was not an old man.
