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IN THE REIGN OF TERROR
The Adventures of a Westminster Boy.
by G. A. Henty
PREFACE.
MY DEAR LADS,
This time only a few words are needed, for the story speaks for
itself. My object has been rather to tell you a tale of interest
than to impart historical knowledge, for the facts of the dreadful
time when "the terror" reigned supreme in France are well known to
all educated lads. I need only say that such historical allusions as
are necessary for the sequence of the story will be found correct,
except that the Noyades at Nantes did not take place until a somewhat
later period than is here assigned to them.
Yours sincerely,
G.A. HENTY.
CHAPTER I A Journey to France
"I don't know what to say, my dear."
"Why, surely, James, you are not thinking for a moment of letting
him go?"
"Well, I don't know. Yes, I am certainly thinking of it, though I
haven't at all made up my mind. There are advantages and disadvantages."
"Oh, but it is such a long way, and to live among those French people,
who have been doing such dreadful things, attacking the Bastille,
and, as I have heard you say, passing all sorts of revolutionary
laws, and holding their king and queen almost as prisoners in
Paris!"
"Well, they won't eat him, my dear. The French Assembly, or the
National Assembly, or whatever it ought to be called, has certainly
been passing laws limiting the power of the king and abolishing
many of the rights and privileges of the nobility and clergy; but
you must remember that the condition of the vast body of the French
nation has been terrible. We have long conquered our liberties,
and, indeed, never even in the height of the feudal system were the
mass of the English people more enslaved as have been the peasants
of France.
"We must not be surprised, therefore, if in their newly-recovered
freedom they push matters to an excess at first; but all this will
right itself, and no doubt a constitutional form of government,
somewhat similar to our own, will be established. But all this is
no reason against Harry's going out there. You don't suppose that
the French people are going to fly at the throats of the nobility.
Why, even in the heat of the civil war here there was no instance
of any personal wrong being done to the families of those engaged
in the struggle, and in only two or three cases, after repeated
risings, were any even of the leaders executed.
"No; Harry will be just as safe there as he would be here. As to
the distance, it's nothing like so far as if he went to India, for
example. I don't see any great chance of his setting the Thames
on fire at home. His school report is always the same - 'Conduct
fair; progress in study moderate' - which means, as I take it, that
he just scrapes along. That's it, isn't it, Harry?"
"Yes, father, I think so. You see every one cannot be at the top
of the form."
"That's a very true observation, my boy. It is clear that if there
are twenty boys in a class, nineteen fathers have to be disappointed.
Still, of course, one would like to be the father who is not
disappointed."
"I stick to my work," the boy said; "but there are always fellows
who seem to know just the right words without taking any trouble
about it. It comes to them, I suppose."
"What do you say to this idea yourself, Harry?"
"I don't know, sir," the boy said doubtfully.
"And I don't know," his father agreed. "At anyrate we will sleep
upon it. I am clear that the offer is not to be lightly rejected."
Dr. Sandwith was a doctor in Chelsea. Chelsea in the year 1790
was a very different place to Chelsea of the present day. It was a
pretty suburban hamlet, and was indeed a very fashionable quarter.
Here many of the nobility and personages connected with the court
had their houses, and broad country fields and lanes separated it
from the stir and din of London. Dr. Sandwith had a good practice,
but he had also a large family. Harry was at Westminster, going
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