The Short Reign of Pippin IV Read online

  “Do you have a flashlight?”

  “Of course, Sire.”

  “Lend it to me.” Pippin went into the kiosk to the little shelf with its pad and pencil. “What is your name?” he asked.

  “Vautin, Sergeant Vautin, Sire.”

  Pippin wrote on the pad, “Sergeant Vautin is hereby relieved of duty and authorized to begin furlough of two weeks beginning at—” “What time is it?”

  “Twelve and twenty minutes, Sire.”

  Pippin continued: “at 12:20 a.m.” He filled in the date and signed it “Pippin IV, King of France, Commander-in-Chief of All Armed Forces.” He handed the order and the flashlight to the soldier.

  Sergeant Vautin put the light on the paper and read it carefully.

  “I can’t see who could find fault with that, Sire. But who is to guard the gate?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on it.”

  “Don’t you want to go to the riots, Sire?”

  “Not particularly,” said Pippin.

  He watched the soldier ride happily away on his bicycle and then he sat down with his back against the kiosk.

  The night was chilly but brilliant with stars, and it was very quiet. No automobiles moved on the highways. Far away the lights of Paris were reflected in a glow against the sky. The great palace was dark behind him. He thought to himself that no night had been so still here for fifty years at least.

  And then he heard the distant hum of a motor, then saw the lights of a speeding car. It screeched to a stop at the gates—a Buick convertible. The headlights blinded Pippin sitting against the kiosk.

  Tod Johnson leaped out of the car and left the motor running. “Hurry up, sir. Get in.”

  Clotilde called from the car, “Hurry, Father!”

  Tod said, “You can put on some of my clothes in the car. We’ll get to the Channel by daylight.”

  Pippin got slowly to his feet. “What is it you intend to do?”

  “We’re going to try to get across the Channel.”

  “Is it so bad, then?”

  “You don’t know, sir. Paris is a mess. You’ve been deposed, sir. They’re yelling for the Republic. If I didn’t have an American car we wouldn’t have got through.”

  Pippin asked, “Where is Madame?”

  “I don’t know, sir. She was supposed to go with Uncle Charlie, but she disappeared.”

  “And where is Uncle Charlie?”

  “He went south. He's going to try to cross into Portugal. Come on, sir! Hurry!!”

  “You aren't in any danger,” Pippin said. “What happened?"

  “You didn't listen to what I told you,” said Tod. “You didn't have the money and the proxies. You didn't even have the stockholders.”

  Pippin walked to the car. “Are you all right, Clotilde?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “To Hollywood,” she said. “Don’t forget, I'm an artiste.”

  “I had forgotten," he said. And to Tod, “You will take care of her?”

  “Sure, but come on—get in! Don't worry about anything. Maybe you'd like to learn the chicken business. And you can write articles. They all do. You've got to get away, now, sir. Here, I've got a bottle of brandy. Have a drink.”

  Pippin took a swallow from the bottle. And suddenly he laughed.

  “Don't be upset,” said Tod. “We'll get you through.”

  “I'm not upset,” said Pippin Héristal. “I was just thinking about Julius Caesar. He did it once. With five legions he surrounded Vercingetorix at Alesia and he pacified Gaul."

  “Maybe Gaul doesn't want to be pacified," said Tod.

  The king was silent for a moment and then he said, “That seems to be the truth. And so perhaps even Caesar didn’t do it. Maybe Gaul can only be pacified by Gaul."

  “Do hurry, Father,” said the subdued Clotilde. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

  The king said, “Take care of her—as much as anyone can take care of anyone.”

  “Come along, sir.”

  “No,” said Pippin. “I am not going. I think in a very little while they will forget me.”

  “They’ll kill you, sir.”

  “I don’t think so,” said the king. “I really don’t think so. And besides, I can’t leave Marie. I wonder where she could have gone? You’re sure she isn’t with Uncle Charlie?”

  “No. The last we saw her was in Sancerre. She went shopping with a basket on her arm. Won’t you get in?” Pippin said, “This is probably my last act as king. These are my orders. You will proceed to a Channel port. You will do your best to find a boat to take you and Clotilde to England. These are your orders, Tod. See that you carry them out.”

  “But-”

  “You have your orders,” said the king. “Grant me the final courtesy of obeying them.”

  He watched the Buick move away and then he strolled back to the palace to find his corduroy jacket and his crash helmet.

  It was during that night that the delegates constituted themselves a National Assembly. They proclaimed the Republic. The Tricolor rose on public buildings.

  The gendarmerie moved out to put a stop to looting. The banks were declared closed for the time being.

  M. Sonnet, to great applause, asked M. Magot to form a coalition government. The king was declared deposed and outlawed.

  M. Magot was able to form a government in a few hours. It will be remembered that the Coalition Government lasted until February third of the following year.

  The motor scooter ran out of gasoline in the Bois de Boulogne, and Pippin left it leaning against a tree and continued on foot. It was dawn when he turned off the Champs Elysées into the Avenue de Marigny.

  From out of the shadows a gendarme moved to intercept him. “You have your card of identity, M’sieur?”

  Pippin brought out his wallet and handed over his card. The gendarme studied it and said, “Pippin Héristal. Why, I remember you, M’sieur. You live at Number One.”

  “That is correct,” said Pippin.

  “There’s been looting,” the gendarme observed. “I didn’t recognize you in the helmet. Have you been on a trip, M’sieur?”

  “Yes,” said Pippin, “quite a long trip.”

  The gendarme saluted. “Everything seems quiet now,” he said.

  “Will you have a cigarette?”

  “Thank you. Ah! a Lucky Strike.”

  “Keep the package,” said Pippin. He winked. “I’ve been out of the country.”

  The gendarme smiled. “I understand, M’sieur.” And he put the package in his pocket under his cape.

  Pippin had to ring the bell endlessly before the concierge shuffled bleary-eyed and ill-tempered to open the iron gate for him.

  “A strange time to be coming in,” he muttered.

  Pippin placed a bill in his hand. “It’s a long trip from Strasbourg.”

  “You have come from Strasbourg?”

  “Well, in one jump from Nancy.”

  “I myself am from Lunéville. How does the country look?”

  “They had a great harvest. The geese looked fine and fat. And they say the wine—”

  “I’ve heard—I’ve heard. But did you hear how the elections in Lunéville came out? That is a very important thing. You see, the mayoralty has been held—” He closed his fist in front of him. “It is time for change—everyone feels that. Everyone, that is, but—” He tightened his fist again.

  Pippin said, “I will have to trouble you to open my door—my keys—”

  “But Madame is in. You have only to ring. And what a turning out she’s given it. Carry this, carry that. What a fury! Now the party in Lunéville that has held it in a grip-”

  Pippin said, “Good night, M’sieur. I will want to hear another time. It’s a long ride from Nancy.”

  He crossed the courtyard to the entrance of the stablehouse. He took off his crash helmet and brushed back his hair with his fingers—and finally he laid his finger on the ivory button of the bell. />