by Mary Dillon
CHAPTER XXI
A TEMPEST IN A BATH-TUB
"The mouse that always trusts to one poor hole Can never be a mouse of any soul."
"Prepare my bath!" Did ever such simple words have so dire a sound?Now was all hope of escape cut off; for was not the Consul's bath inthe very room into which the closet where I was hiding opened, andthrough which I had expected to make my exit as I had made myentrance? Now did I curse the folly that had led me into such a trapfor the sake of a mere adventure.
Whereas a moment ago I had been congratulating myself on the spirit ofenterprise and daring that had led me to be the witness of such greatand stirring events, I now despised it all as a silly boyishness whichhad brought me into what seemed like to prove something more than afoolish scrape. Nor could I help reflecting that whether death ordisgrace (which seemed to me far worse than death) awaited me, itwould not affect me alone. My uncle's reputation, and honor also,might easily be involved in his nephew's downfall. And, mostintolerable of all, what would the Comtesse de Baloit think when sheshould come to hear (as it was inevitable that she would) that I hadbeen caught spying like any common eavesdropper?--found hid in theConsul's private closet, taken and done to death, as I had not theleast doubt in the world I should be!
Yet it was not in me to wait idly for the worst to happen; I began atonce to plan other means of escape than those I had been relying upon.If I could not make my exit through the dressing-room, why not throughthe other apartment, from which my closet was separated only by acurtain?
As far as I could judge, the apartment had three entrance-doors. Onewhich was not within my range of vision was the one by which theministers had withdrawn and through which my uncle had returned. This,no doubt, was the main entrance, and led into some public corridor,where detection by passers-by would be certain, to say nothing of thefact that the door was no doubt strongly guarded, and by a soldier whowould not be so complacent as Gaston had been (having neither handledmy gold nor tasted a maiden's kisses as reward for his complacency).
The second door led into the dressing-room, where even now I couldhear the splashing of water and the vigorous preparations of the valetfor the Consul's bath. That, of course, was not to be considered. Thethird one was the one through which I had seen Rustan glide; and atthe thought of entering that room, and falling into the tender merciesof the mysterious Mameluke, I shuddered. A stealthy stiletto withpoisoned point I had no doubt would make short work with me. And evencould it be possible to seize a moment when Rustan was out of the roomin attendance on his master, it was more than likely the room wouldprove a _cul-de-sac_ and I would be more securely trapped than ever.
In the midst of these perplexing meditations I heard a heavy splash,followed by a vigorous sputtering, that assured me the First Consulwas already in his bath. A moment later I heard a scratching at thedoor through which my uncle had departed. ('Tis the fashion, I haveheard, at the Tuileries and St. Cloud, to scratch instead of knock.)Rustan answered it immediately, and led the gentleman who entereddirectly through the outer apartment to the dressing-room. This seemeda novel procedure to me, but I remembered that the French oftenreceived callers at the toilet, and perhaps it was nothing unusual forthe First Consul to receive his friends in the bath.
I could hear all that went on in the dressing-room; even the slightestsound was as audible in my closet as if no door intervened. I wassurprised at this until I discovered that just higher than my head asmall panel, not more than three inches square, had been removed fromthe door of the closet, admitting a little light and a little air. Itwas through this opening that sounds were conveyed, and it was throughit that I heard the Consul's voice a moment after the visitor wasconducted through the outer apartment.
"Ah, my dear Lucien! Where were you last night, and where was mybrother Joseph? Did you not intend to join me at the Theatre Francais?I expected you, and Talma showed great power in 'Hamlet.' I wassurprised and disappointed not to see you both there."
I do not remember what answer his brother made, but Bonaparte repliedwith the greatest good humor:
"You might have seen, too, that the Parisians always like to see me.In fact, I scarcely flattered myself they would ever become sosympathetic when I had to shoot them down that October day in 1795."
I could scarcely believe it was the First Consul speaking, so unlikewere his tones to any I had heard from him before,--playful,affectionate, almost tender,--and I said to myself, "Ah, this despothas a heart! He loves his brother."
I did not hear anything more that was said for a while, for I wasrevolving in my mind all possible modes of escape. I had just come tothe conclusion that the only safe way was to remain quietly where Iwas until Bonaparte should have finished his bath and left hisdressing-room (which I felt sure could not be long, since he hadalready been in the water for more than a quarter of an hour), when Iheard again that peculiar little scratching sound on the dressing-roomdoor, and Rustan entered, announcing to the Consul his brother Joseph.
"Let him come in," said the Consul; "I shall stay in the bath aquarter of an hour longer."
Black despair seized me. A quarter of an hour seemed to meinterminable when I knew not at what moment the valet would fling openthe closet door in his search for some article of dress, and discoverme. There was nothing to do, however, but to make the best of it,hoping against hope that the great Bonaparte, who seemed inordinatelyfond of his bath, would some time be through with it and leave hisdressing-room free for me to traverse it in safety. For I had made upmy mind that I would wait no longer for Felice; the first minute thatI could be quite sure that the dressing-room was vacant, I would openmy closet door and escape, trusting to find Gaston still on guard atthe outer dressing-room door.
It occurred to me that if I were only a little taller, and could lookthrough that open panel just above my head, it would be well, for thenI could assure myself that the room was empty before attempting myescape, and not stumble upon some lurking valet or Mameluke. Then Iremembered what I had noticed on entering the closet, but had notthought of since, a low three-legged taboret, not more than fiveinches high, but quite high enough, were I once upon it, to enable meto look through the open panel. I stooped carefully down and feltaround the floor of the closet in the dark. My hand struck against it.I picked it up and set it noiselessly directly under the smallopening, and slowly and carefully, and absolutely without making asound, I mounted upon it.
Just below me was the most remarkable group I had ever looked upon,or, I have no doubt, ever shall look upon. Respectfully standing nearthe bath were the two brothers Lucien and Joseph, and it was easy forme to decide at a glance which was Joseph and which Lucien, for I hadheard much of both and knew their characteristics, though I knew nottheir faces. Joseph was the handsomer of the two, and looked more likehis august brother, with the same fiery eye and mobile mouth, showingthe same excitable temperament. Lucien had the calmer face thatbelongs to a scholar, though in some respects I thought it a strongerone than his brother Joseph's. In the marble bath lay Bonaparte, onlyhis head and a little of his shoulders visible, for the water wasfrothy and opaque from quantities of cologne, whose sweet, pungentodor rose to my nostrils refreshingly. Bonaparte was in the act ofspeaking to Joseph:
"Well, brother, have you spoken to Lucien?"
"What about!" said Joseph.
"Of our plan as to Louisiana--don't you know?"
"Of _your_ plan, you mean, my dear brother; you cannot have forgottenthat--far from being mine--"
Bonaparte interrupted him with good-natured scorn.
"Well, well, preacher, I don't need to discuss that with you; you areso obstinate. I like better to talk about serious things with Lucien;for, although he sometimes takes it into his head to go against me, heknows how to give up to my idea when I think fit to change his."
Joseph's color rose quickly, and he spoke with some spirit:
"You are unjust enough to attribute to obstinacy what is the effect ofwise reflection."
Lucien was evidently afraid of an outbreak, and he interposed quicklyand laughingly:
"Then that means, brother Joseph, that I hold my ideas so lightly Ican easily be reasoned out of them."
"Ah, my dear boy," said Bonaparte, with affectionate raillery, "fearnot that any one will accuse thee of lightness. Thou art more likelyto be named 'Iron-head.'"
For a few minutes the two brothers playfully called each othernicknames, going back to the days of their boyhood in Corsica, whileJoseph stood by, looking bored and every moment growing moreimpatient. Finally he broke in quite brusquely:
"Well, you say nothing more about your famous plan!"
Bonaparte turned at once to Lucien.
"Well, Lucien, I have made up my mind to sell Louisiana to theAmericans."
"Indeed!" said Lucien, in a tone of curiosity, but with so muchcoolness I suspected he was not hearing the announcement for the firsttime.
Bonaparte turned to Joseph with an air of triumph.
"Well, Joseph, you see Lucien does not utter loud cries about thisthing. Yet he almost has a right to, seeing that Louisiana is, so tospeak, his own conquest."
I knew what the Consul meant by that, for it was Lucien who hadnegotiated the San Ildefonso treaty which gave Louisiana to France.This speech of his brother's seemed to irritate Joseph still more, andhe replied quite sharply:
"I assure you, if Lucien says nothing, he thinks none the less."
"Indeed!" said Bonaparte, his eyes beginning to flash and his lip tocurl. "And why should he be diplomatic with me?"
It was evident that Lucien thought it time to come forward to supportJoseph, but that he also wished to placate the rising wrath of theConsul. So he spoke very gently:
"I really think as my brother Joseph does on this matter, and Iundertake to say that the Chambers will never assent."
Bonaparte's head shot up above the rim of the bath-tub, and he leveleda fiery glance at Lucien.
"_You_ undertake to say! A pretty piece of business!" with an air andtone of withering contempt.
"Yes; and _I_ undertake to say," cried Joseph, in a tone of triumph,"that it will be so. And that is what I told the First Consul before."
"And what did I say?" said the Consul, his tone rising with his wrath,and with his head still above the rim of the bath-tub, looking byturns quickly from one brother to the other, as if not to lose anychange in the countenance of either.
"You declared," said Joseph, his voice also rising, "you would getalong without the assent of the Chambers; did you not?"
"Exactly," said Bonaparte, concentrated irony in his tone. "That iswhat I took the liberty to say to Monsieur Joseph, and what I repeathere to Citizen Lucien, begging him to give me his opinion about it,derived from his paternal tenderness for that mighty diplomaticconquest of his, the treaty of San Ildefonso."
Now I thought this a very unkind thrust at Lucien, for I had heardhis part in the treaty had been most creditable and that the FirstConsul had been much pleased with it. I could see that Lucien found ithard to brook, but he struggled for mastery with himself, and spokestill gently:
"My brother, my devotion is deep enough to sacrifice everything foryou, except my duty. If I believed, for example, this sale ofLouisiana would be fatal to me alone, I would consent to it to proveto you my devotion. But it is too unconstitutional."
Bonaparte broke into his sentence with a fit of rasping, sarcasticlaughter, sinking back into the bath-tub almost in a convulsion ofdemoniacal mirth.
"Ha, ha, ha! You are drawing it fine. 'For example'!" His wordsstruggled out in the intervals of his spasms of laughter. "Ha, ha, ha!'For example'!"--catching his breath. "'Unconstitutional'! That'sdroll from you; a good joke--ha, ha!" As his laughter ceased anexpression of ironical and contemptuous rage passed over his face.
"How have I touched your constitution?" he cried. "Answer!"
"I know well," said Lucien, still trying to control himself, "you havenot done so; but you know well that to alienate any possession of therepublic without the consent of the Chambers is unconstitutional."
That last word seemed to drive the Consul beside himself. Once morehis head shot above the top of the bath-tub, and with blazing eyes heshook his fist at Lucien.
"Clear out!" he shouted. "'Constitution'! 'Unconstitutional'!'Republic'! Great words--fine phrases! Do you think you are still atthe Club of St. Maximin? We are past that, you had better believe!Parbleu! You phrase it nobly. 'Unconstitutional'! It becomes you well,Sir Knight of the Constitution, to talk that way to me. You hadn't thesame respect for the Chambers on the eighteenth Brumaire."
Lucien, roused at last, broke in, in a tone as high as Bonaparte's:
"You well know, my dear brother, that your entry into the Five Hundredhad no warmer opponent than I. No! I was not your accomplice, but therepairer of the evil which you had done to yourself!--and that at myown peril, and with some generosity on my part, because we did notthen agree. Not to boast, I may add that no one in Europe, more thanI, has disapproved the sacrilege against the national representation."
Bonaparte's eyes blazed like diamonds.
"Go on--go on!" he thundered. "That's quite too fine a thing to cutshort, Sir Orator of the Clubs! But at the same time take note ofthis: that I shall do just as I please; that I detest, withoutfearing, your friends the Jacobins!--not one of whom shall remain inFrance if, as I hope, things continue to remain in my hands; and that,in fine, I snap my fingers at you and your 'national representation.'"
"On my side," shouted Lucien, "I do not snap my fingers at you,Citizen Consul, but I well know what I think about you."
"What do you think about me, Citizen Lucien? Parbleu! I am curious toknow. Out with it!"
"I think, Citizen Consul, that, having sworn to the constitution ofthe eighteenth Brumaire, as President of the Council of the FiveHundred, and seeing you despise it thus, if I were not your brother Iwould be your enemy!"
"My enemy!" screamed Bonaparte. "Try it once! That's rather strong!"And, shaking his fist at Lucien, as he had done once before, "Thou myenemy!" he screamed again, and then sank back in the water up to hisneck, as if exhausted. In a moment he spoke again in a somewhatquieter tone:
"Cease this miserable caviling which you and Joseph are at work onnight and day--ridiculous for him, and still less appropriate for you.It is not from you that I expect lessons in government. Enough! Forgetall you have said about it! I shall contrive to dispense with you. Aprecious, well-disposed pair of brothers you are! Please call back thevalet; I must get out of the bath-tub at once."
The valet had come in; Joseph and Lucien, thinking the matter wasdropped, were turning toward the door; the valet was spreading openthe sheet to wrap up his master, when the Consul suddenly returned tothe charge, and thundered in a tone that made Lucien and Joseph startand turn back quickly, and the valet drop the sheet from his tremblinghands:
"Well, sirs, think what you please about the sale of Louisiana! butyou may both of you put on mourning over this thing--you, Lucien, overthe sale of your province; you, Joseph, because I propose to dispensewith the consent of all persons whatsoever. Do you hear?"
I fairly shivered in my hiding-place at such an outbreak on such atopic in the presence of a servant. Lucien shrank farther toward thedoor, but Joseph, who had held his peace through the quarrel of thetwo brothers, stung by the scornful words and manner, and especiallyby the contemptuous "Do you hear?" which was like a cutting snapper tothe Consul's lashing wrath, rushed back, exclaiming:
"You will do well, my dear brother, not to lay your plan before theChambers, for I swear to you I will put myself, if necessary, at thehead of the opposition which will certainly be made."
There was no reply from Bonaparte but an outburst of loud and sardoniclaughter.
Joseph flushed dark red, and, almost beside himself with rage,stooping over the figure that lay immersed in the bath, screamed out:
"Laugh! laugh! laugh, then! All the same, I shall do what I say, and,though I do not like to mount
the tribune, this time you'll see methere!"
At these words, Bonaparte rose in the bath-tub so as to show half hisbody out of the water, opaque and frothy with cologne, and pale as hisbrother was red, he cried sternly:
"You will not need to play the orator, for I repeat to you that thisdebate will not take place, because the plan so unlucky as to bedisapproved by you, conceived by me, negotiated by me, will beratified and executed by me--by me alone; do you understand?--by me!"Then he sank back once more to his neck in the water. Joseph, whoseself-control was all gone, his face aflame, roared:
"Well, general, on my side, I tell you that you and I and all thefamily, if you do what you say you will, may get ready to join shortlythose poor innocent devils whom you so legally, so humanely,--aboveall, with so much justice,--have had transported to Cayenne!"
This was a terrible home thrust, and I could see Lucien draw hastilystill farther back toward the door, and the valet literally cowered.
"You insolent fellow!" thundered Bonaparte. "I ought--" But I did nothear the rest of the sentence, for as he spoke he rose quickly fromthe water and plunged heavily back, so that the water dashed out in aflood on the floor. Lucien, who was back by the door, escaped awetting; but Joseph received the splash full in his face, and hisclothes were drenched. The valet ran to Joseph's assistance, but hadno more than begun to sponge him off than he fell to the floor in afainting fit. The quarrel was calmed at once, and the Bonapartesgood-heartedly ran to the rescue. Joseph hurried to pick him up fromthe wet floor; Lucien rang the bell so hard that Rustan and anotherservant came running in, frightened; and the First Consul, his eyesand lips just visible above the rim of the bath-tub, called outsympathetically:
"Carry off the poor fellow, and take good care of him."
As for me, the excitement was too much for me also. I did not faint,but my stool, which was none of the steadiest on its three legs,suddenly tipped from the excess of my emotion, and, though I caughtmyself from falling entirely, I yet made what sounded to my horrifiedears a deafening racket. In reality I suppose it was only a slightscuffling noise, but it was enough to catch the quick ears of theFirst Consul and Rustan.
"What was that?" I heard the First Consul say in a startled tone.
"I think, sir, it was some noise in the closet," I heard Rustan reply."If Monsieur Joseph will assist in supporting your valet, I willinvestigate."
Now was my last hour come. But I was not going to die like a rat in atrap. I would rush out the door into the public corridor, and, ifnecessary, slay the guard and make one bold dash for safety. I drew mysword from its scabbard to have it in readiness in my hand forwhatever might befall, pulled back the curtain, and came near runningthrough the body my pretty Felice! She was coming to keep her promiseto me and show me the way out. She did not seem to see my sword, butthe moment she saw me she spoke in great excitement:
"Make haste, Monsieur; there is not a moment to lose. You can escapethrough the main corridor. But you must be quick, for the Consul mayfinish his bath at any minute, and his brothers retire here to awaithim while he dresses."
We were hurrying toward the door as she spoke, but I, feeling as ifthe Mameluke were close behind me, seized her hand and dragged herroughly into the corridor as I whispered:
"Yes, we must be quick, for Rustan is after us!"
With a half-suppressed scream she let go my hand, turned to Gaston,who was standing at the door motionless as a statue and, to allappearance, deaf and blind as one also, uttered the one word,"Rustan!" and fled swiftly down the dark side corridor, leaving meutterly bewildered. The western sun was flooding the cabinet of theFirst Consul when I went into my hiding-place, but the sun had set andtwilight had fallen and the candles had been long lit when I steppedout into the corridor. The wax tapers set in sconces along thecorridor lighted it but poorly, and I knew not which way to go.
"Run, Monsieur!" cried Gaston, in a terrified whisper, "straight downthe corridor till you come to the grand staircase. And run as if thedevil was after you, for he is!"
That was all I needed,--a word of direction,--and I was off. Butscarcely had I gone a few feet when I heard a great noise and shoutingbehind me, and Gaston crying, "Stop thief!" I thought at first he wasturning traitor, now that he had my gold piece with no chance ofgaining another from me. But as I ran the faster, and the noise behindme did not seem to gain on me, as I feared it might, I concluded hewas making a great outcry to cover his own part in my escape, andperhaps was hindering the pursuit more than helping it.
Yet when I came to the turn of the grand staircase I thought for amoment I had also come to the end of my days; for just as I felt sureI was distancing those behind me, there came running swiftly toward mefrom the other end of the dim corridor an officer with sword drawn,and I saw he would meet me exactly at the head of the grand staircase.The light from a tall taper fell on his face as he neared thestaircase. It was the Chevalier Le Moyne!
I had but a moment to think. Should I stop to engage with him, I hadno doubt I could unsword him as easily as he had unsworded me in thedance by Chouteau's Pond; but the delay would bring a score to hishelp, and I would be quickly overpowered, if not done to death atonce. Neither did I like to turn my back on that drawn sword as I fleddown the steps, feeling sure it would spit me through the shoulders,much as Narcisse spitted the wild fowl for roasting at Emigre'sRetreat. But above all I did not wish the chevalier to see my face;for, even should I make good my escape, Paris would be no safe placefor me should he recognize in the flying "thief" his hated St. Louisrival.
I pulled my hat low over my eyes, lifted my left arm before my face asif to shield it from his sword, rushed straight toward him, met him,as I thought I should, at the top of the staircase, and, with a quicktwist of my foot (a school-boy's trick), sent him sprawling down thestairs. In three great bounds I had cleared the staircase and hisprostrate body, and like a whirlwind I threw myself upon the sentry atits foot, who--half dazed by this sudden descent of the chevalier andmyself, one rolling and bumping from step to step, the other leapingthrough the air like some great winged creature--was nevertheless inthe act of raising his gun to fire at me. As I hurled my great weightfull upon him, the gun flew from his hands, and his littledancing-master figure went pirouetting across the terrace into thedarkness beyond, in a vain struggle to recover his balance. I sprangdown the terrace after him, and disappeared in the friendly darkness.
It was time. Starting from the gloom in every direction, armed figuresseemed to spring from the ground, while down the great staircasebehind me clattered, shrieking and shouting in every key, a throng ofofficers and soldiers, led by a dark figure gliding swiftly andsilently far in advance, and holding in his upraised hand somethingthat glittered as it caught the rays from wax tapers. In the very actof springing down the first terrace, I saw the glittering dagger leaveRustan's hand, hurled straight at my head, and heard it fall far belowme on the stone parapet of the last terrace.
It was but the work of a moment to run swiftly to the pines and findFatima, and lead her out of the thicket. I had not found my seat uponher back when she bounded away into the dark, straight down the broadgreen allee that led toward the Bois de Boulogne and Paris. Then wasthere hurrying to horse, and the pounding of many hoofs behind me onthe soft turf, and the wild clamor of confused orders shouted backand forth, and a fusillade of bullets firing into the dark, if bychance one might find its mark.
But I no longer felt any fear. Fatima was stretching away beneath mewith the swift and easy motion of a bird, and I did not believe therewas a horse in all France could overtake her. The night was my friend,too, and a dark night it was; for the clouds had gathered and shut outeven the faint light of stars, and I could not so much as see my handbefore my face. But I could trust Fatima to find her way, and I feltnothing but a wild exhilaration as we went swinging along in greatstrides through the cool, damp night breeze, and I could tell, fromthe clamor of voices and pounding of hoofs growing more distant, thatwe were gaining on our pursuers.
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Out from the soft turf of the park we clattered on to the stonystreets of the little village. Here there were lights, and peoplepassing to and fro, who stopped and stared at the wild flight of horseand rider. But none molested until the hallooes and the clatter ofhoofs of those following reached their ears. Then men rushed out fromlow taverns, from hut and hovel and respectable houses, brandishingarms and shouting "Stop thief!" and adding much to the noise andexcitement, but availing nothing to stop the fugitive. Only one youngfellow, an officer by his dress, snatched a gun from a bystander, andfired with so true an aim that had I not ducked my head I would havehad no head to duck.
But in a few moments we had left the village behind us and were oncemore on the unlighted country roads. Faster and faster we flew, byhedge and stone wall and orchard, whence the night breeze wafted thescent of blossoming fruit-trees, with ever the sound of hallooes andhoofs growing fainter in the distance.
Yet not until I had long ceased to catch even the slightest sound ofpursuit, and we were well on our way through the gloomy depths of theBois,--night haunt of robbers, suicides, and assassins,--did I drawrein and give Fatima a chance to breathe. As we ambled along, mypulses growing quieter as Fatima's breath no longer came in deep-drawnsobs, but regularly in warm puffs from her wide nostrils, I fell tothinking over the events of the afternoon.
Now that it was all safely over, and no ill had befallen me, and I hadbrought no disgrace upon my uncle, I was elated beyond measure that myadventure had exceeded my wildest hopes of its success. I had seen thegreat Bonaparte, and would henceforth know him as no man outside thecircle of his intimate friends could possibly know him. He would nolonger be, in my eyes, the impossible hero of romance, faultless andbeyond criticism, but a man with more than the ordinary man's meed ofshortcomings as to temper, yet with also a thousand times more thanany ordinary man's power to control men and mold circumstance.Dictatorial, harsh, intolerant of all opinions that did not coincidewith his own, brooking no interference with his methods or suggestionsas to his duty, he could yet be playful and affectionate with thebrother he loved, sympathetic with a servant whom his own harsh temperhad frightened into fainting, and touched with a soft feeling ofregret for the colony he ruthlessly alienated from the fatherland.
My mind pictured him vividly in every aspect in which I had seen him,but strongest and most persistent of all was the vision of the figurein the deep-armed chair, bowed in mournful thought, or with armoutstretched to my uncle, and voice trembling with suppressed emotion,saying:
"Let the Louisianians know that we separate ourselves from them withregret. Let them retain for us sentiments of affection. And may ourcommon origin, descent, language, and customs perpetuate thefriendship!"