The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1914-02-12
CHAPTER XII.
The Mother of \ Prince

inc mOIncT OF Prince.
The walls of the palace at Ancona
dropped to the sea; against them the
waves danced Out on the blue wa
ter lay fleet of fishing boats, and the
wind tapped torn sails, and the sun
light glanced on battered hulls and
Uttered decks. The woman who sal
by an open window of the palace
pushed the black trailing of her gown
from her, as if the somberness hurt
her eyes; she laid her head against
the window-frame and stared at the
breeze-tossed waves and the fishing
fleet.
1t may be our only hope of escape
those wretched boats" she said, half
aloud, and her blue eyes were full of
sadness, almost of hopeIessness.
sound caught her ear, and she lift
ed her head quickly. The door into
the next room was partly open and
some one moved there, that was all
She turned the lines of her figure
falling again into a melancholy pose.
THE doctor takes long time" she
spoke, and gazed out once more to the
water.
There had been a spirited young
girl years before who had romped in
the gardens of Malmaison, who had
led the laughter which echoed through
those avenues of lime and plantain
whose sweetness and vivacity had
drawn the figure of Napoleon himself
into the vortex of gladness which was
her atmosphere. Always brightness
seemed to follow her through the en-
chantment Of the place; always she
seemed to move in gaiety Today, on
a March morning of 1880, this was she
-Hortense.
The daughter of France she had
been, the queen of Holland, and now
for years an exile. Here, i'll, a fugi-
tive, in her nephew's palace at An
coma, with the Austrians at the gate
of the city, she waited in anxiety al
most more intense than she could bear
the word of the doctor as to her son.
Five days before, at Forl, her older
boy had died and her sore heart
stirred with a sickening throb as she
thought OF this other--LouiS--nOw her
only child, lying in the room beyond
in a high fever, i'll with the disease
with which his brother had fallen. A
womaR's soul might well be over
crowded with such sorrow and such
fear, but there was more. Her two
boys had thrown in their lot shortly
before with the Italian revolutionists,
and had fought, and had distinguished
themselves. And now that the revo.
luton of the Romagna was a failure.
that the Austrian army was advanc-
ing VIGOROUSLY, now that death had
taken the older to safety, the younger
-Louis-the invalid lad in the room
beyond was in imminent danger. He
was excepted from the general am
nesty; the natural ways of escape
were closed, for the authorities of
Tuscany and Of Switzerland had let
her know that the Prince would not be
permitted in those territories. From
Rome two of her sons uncles, Card-
nal Fesch and King Jerome had sent
word that if he were taken by the
Austrians he was lost And at the
moment when Hortense had decided to
carry her boy off to Turkey by way
of Corfu, an Austrian fleet appeared
in the Adriatic.
In such critical state were the
affairs of the black-gowned woman
who gazed from the palace windows
to the sea. The doctor was with her
son. The boys condition seemed to
her no better, but worse than the day
before; she waited an official verdict
The door opened and she looked up as
a tall man came in.
Doctor" she stammered and
stopped-she feared to ask.
Your majesty" the old man said
gravely, 81 grieve to be the bearer
of bad news"
He is worse, Doctor?" The words
came with a gasp; she felt that she
could not face more trouble.
"Yes, your Majesty, the fever has
increased since yesterday. With his
youth and strength we may hope-if
he is carefully nursed-buJ to move
him would 5e madness"
Queen Hortense struck her hands
together What can do? What can
l do?" she demanded, and the doctor
stood gravely regarding her, helpless,
with all his devotion to the house of
Bonaparte, to suggest way out. ''If
he stays he will be taken-they will
execute him. If he goes he will die
on the way" she cried in an agony
of indecision. Doctor tell me. think
for mellow can | cave him."
And the doctor still stood silent,
suffering with the impotent desire to
help her. Tiff only the Austrians
might think that the Prince we're
gone." he stammered. and hated him
self for the futility OF the words. But
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