Free Heart to Heart: Ashton Ford, Psychic Detective by Don Pendleton Page B

all of Europe, and France was in chaos. The
moment was prelude to the Reign of Terror, during which 300,000
Frenchmen were arrested, 17,000 executed, and many died in prison
without trial. Robespierre was blamed for much of the "excess"—but
all was excess in those days, and one man alone could not have done
all that.
    The New France rose from this tumult with
Napoleon Bonaparte at the helm, but only after successive coups and
bloody intrigues.
    At the moment of St. Germain's rendezvous
with the countess at a Parisian church, the French monarchy had
been compromised and the nation was being governed by the National
Convention, which was dominated by Robespierre. But four years
earlier, Marie Antoinette had received prophetic warning from her
"mysterious adviser," a man who had never revealed himself to her
in person but who nonetheless had watched over the young queen
since her entry into France, giving her counsel in the form of
anonymous letters. Thus in 1788 she received a missive which she
felt compelled to share with Countess d'Adhemar, and about which
she was moved to confide: "... these are strange experiences. Who
is this personage who has taken an interest in me for so many years
without making himself known, without seeking any reward, and who
yet has always told me the truth? He now warns me of the overthrow
of everything that exists and, if he gives a gleam of hope, it is
so distant that I may not reach it."
    Handing the letter to the countess, the
queen added,
    "This time the oracle has
used the language which becomes him; the epistle is in
verse."
    Countess d'Adhemar faithfully copied the
verse into her diary:
     
    The time is fast approaching when imprudent
France,
    Surrounded by misfortune she might have
spared herself,
    Will call to mind such hell as Dante
painted.
    This day, O Queen! is near, no more can doubt
remain,
    A hydra vile and cowardly,
with his enormous horns
    Will carry off the altar, throne, and
Themis;
    In place of common sense,
madness incredible
    Will reign, and all be
lawful to the wicked.
    Yea! Falling shall we see sceptre, censer,
scales, Towers and escutcheons, even the white flag; Henceforth
will all be fraud, murders and violence,
    Which we shall find instead of sweet
repose.
    Great streams of blood are flowing in each
town; Sobs only do I hear, and exiles see!
    On all sides civil discord loudly roars,
    And uttering cries on all sides virtue
flees,
    As from the assembly votes of death
arise.
    Great God! who can reply to murderous
judges?
    And on what brows august I see the sword
descend! What monsters treated as the peers of heroes! Oppressors,
oppressed, victors, vanquished...
    The storm reaches you all
in turn, in this common wreck,
    What crimes, what evils, what appalling
guilt, Menace the subjects, as the potentates!
    And more than one usurper
triumphs in command, More than one heart misled is humbled and
repents. At last, closing the abyss and born from a black
tomb
    There rises a young lily, more happy, and
more fair.
     
    This prophecy, appalling
as it was, was not heeded. Four years later, on the eve of her
rendezvous with St. Germain, Countess d'Adhemar received the
following note, in the same hand, and signed Comte de St. Germain.
     
    All is lost, Countess! This
sun is the last which will set on the monarchy; tomorrow it will
exist no more, chaos will prevail, anarchy unequalled. You know all
I have tried to do to give affairs a different turn; I have been
scorned; now it is too late... I will watch over you; be prudent,
and you will survive the tempest that will have beaten down all. I
resist the desire that I have to see you; what should we say to
each other? You would ask of me the impossible; I can do nothing
for the King, nothing for the Queen, nothing for the Royal Family,
nothing even for the Duc d'Orleans, who will be triumphant tomorrow
and who, all in due course, will cross the Capitol to be thrown
from the top of the Tarpeian rock. Nevertheless, if you would