If at Faust You Don`t Succeed

CHAPTER 12

Mack rushed back to the bridge. It was jammed, packed, loaded, overburdened, and suffused throughout its length and width with carts and their attendant horses and drivers. There were carts to the right and carts to the left and low, lean carts between. Mack raged among them, trying to get some order. But more and more carts came piling onto the bridge, drawn there by Michael's promise of early morning price reductions at the big market in Varennes.

The pilings groaned ominously. Then one last cart piled high with dried herring from the Baltic shouldered itself onto the bridge. There was a creak of tortured timbers, and then the whole thing gave way.

Mack scrambled off the bridge just in time to save himself a dunking. The bridge collapsed in slow motion, and carts fell dreamily into the limpid waters of the Aire. A many-throated cry of chagrin could be heard, and a great bellowing of oxen. Then there was silence. And then, from the distance, could be heard a jingling sound—the harness of the king's horses as the royal coach came up the road and pulled to a halt before the ruined bridge.

Losing no time, Mack hurried over to the royal coach. "Your Majesty!" he said. There is still time."

"What are you talking about?" Marie Antoinette asked. "The bridge is blocked. We are undone."

"Yet there is still a way," Mack said.

"What is that, pray tell?"

"Get out of the coach at once, Your Majesties. We will purchase horses from the yokels about here and ride, back at first toward Paris, that will throw them off the trail, then we will take another branching and get across the frontier to safety. There is still time to effect your escape."

Louis turned to his wife. "What do you think?"

"Sounds too risky to me," Marie Antoinette said.

The king demurred, and Marie didn't think much of the scheme, but finally they agreed. Mack coaxed them out of the coach. They stood in the early morning light looking more than a little stupid, and as if unused to standing on their own feet on the ground. Mack hurried away and hired horses. He had calculated that they could still get out of this. After all, no one knew the king was here. No one except Drouet, and he had left him securely trussed back in Saint-Menehould.

The king approached the horse Mack had gotten for him, and somewhat hesitantly got up on it. Then Marie Antoinette climbed up on the other horse. At last, all was in readiness.

But then, just before they could ride off, a cloud of dust appeared down the road and grew larger and separated into separate riders. It was Drouet, and he was at the head of a thousand armed men.

Spotting the big yellow coach he cried, "The king and queen! Put them under arrest! They must return to Paris immediately!"

Guardsmen did as he bid. Drouet rode up to Mack.

"So, we meet again. You did me a poor service back there, citizen. I think I'll do the same for you."

Gesturing to two guards, he said, "This man is a counterrevolutionary. Seize him!"

Mack said, "Just tell me one thing. How did you get here so quickly?"

"Not through your help," Drouet said. "Luckily for me, this gentleman came along and rendered assistance."

Another rider trotted up and Mack saw that it was Faust.

"You again!" he breathed.

Faust smiled smugly. "I got away from the soldiers easily enough, and then I found this fellow and helped him, and so put paid to your scheme."

Then Mephistopheles appeared. "Let that man go," he said to Drouet.

Drouet was badly frightened by the demon, but he blustered, "We're holding this man for the tribunal."

Mephistopheles said, "Sorry. Supernatural matters take precedence. This is the end of the contest."

He reached out and put his hand on Mack's shoulder. They vanished together. A moment later, Marguerite vanished, too.