The Blacksmith's Hammer; or, The Peasant Code: A Tale of the Grand Monarch

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER X.

  UNITED.

  Mademoiselle Plouernel stepped buoyantly towards Nominoe, reached outher hand to him, and said delightedly:

  "At last I see you again!"

  "How beautiful she is! My God, how beautiful she is!" the young manmurmured involuntarily, standing in ecstasy before the young girl whosehand he held in his own. Never before, not even at The Hague, was hedazzled by the radiant beauty of Bertha as now. For a moment he remainedas if in a transport--enraptured--in ecstatic adoration.

  Soon the intoxicating emotion was succeeded by a bitter presentiment inNominoe's heart. He knew himself to be passionately loved by Bertha. Shemust have suffered a thousand cruel pangs at the thought of the perilsthat he ran since they last met, above all at the thought of the wreckof the marriage which she had so long looked forward to. And yet, so farfrom finding her dejected, pale, emaciated by grief and despair, shestood there blooming with freshness and beauty. Love has a penetratingeye. Mademoiselle Plouernel divined the secret thought of Nominoe, andaddressing him with a charming smile, said:

  "Be frank, my friend, you find me too beautiful, do you not?"

  "What is that you say, Bertha!"

  "Admit it, pallor would better suit my cheeks than the tint of the rose.Recent tears should dim the brilliancy of my eyes. An expression ofdespair should compress my lips. Instead--my eyes shine brilliantly, mycheeks are red, and a smile sits upon my lips. Nothing in me betrays thepangs of despair; I look brimful of confidence, of calm and serene hope.What can I say to you, Nominoe?--my face can dissemble as little as myheart. Only a minute ago, before your arrival, I was happy; I see youagain, my happiness is doubled. My words, my appearance, astonish you,because you left me broken with grief. Here," added MademoisellePlouernel taking from the table the letter which her old equerry hadjust returned to her; "read this; you will then understand what seemsunexplainable to you. I sent to you a man whom I trust; he was todeliver this letter to you; he followed your traces to Guemenee, toRennes, to Nantes; nowhere could he find you."

  The young man took the letter; Bertha stepped out of the hall for amoment and quickly returned carrying a rather heavy casket. She laid thelatter upon the table where also stood some writing materials, andtraced a few lines with a firm hand. She then folded the two sheets; onthe one she wrote--_To my dear and good Marion_; on the other--_To myfaithful Du Buisson_. While Bertha was thus engaged, Nominoe informedhimself of the contents of the letter that she had handed to him. Atremor ran through his frame and his moist eyes turned to Bertha. "Whata heart! What courage! As brave as she is beautiful!" he muttered tohimself, and resumed his reading. When he finished he carried the letterto his lips. Tears covered his face. He stepped forward, transfigured.His countenance became, like Bertha's, radiantly serene. He raised hishead; his tears ceased to flow; a smile flitted over his lips; hecollected his thoughts, and said to Mademoiselle Plouernel, who steppedtowards him:

  "Bertha, the future dazzles me like your beauty; but two words about thepast: The insurrection is suppressed; Serdan is dead; my father! myfather has gone and now is reborn, and lives yonder--but, alas! I couldnot bid him my supreme adieu, and close his eyes."

  "When did that misfortune happen?"

  "At Nantes, where we stopped, together with Serdan, we hoped to be ableto rekindle the energy of the population of the town, and counteract thedefection of the peasants. But the promises of Monsieur Chaulnes hadmade their dupes in Nantes also. Hence arose a fatal division betweenthose of the inhabitants who laid down their arms, and those who wishedto remain under arms. In the midst of the discord Nantes was occupied bya strong armed force. To attempt resistance would have been folly. Theexecutions started. My father, Serdan and myself were signalled out asthe chiefs of the sedition. From the moment the King's troops occupiedNantes the town gates were watched. We could not leave the place. Somedevoted friends offered us a place of refuge, but we had to hideseparately. I left my father and Serdan. They were discovered in theirhiding places. Serdan, who was fallen upon as he lay asleep, wasarrested. The next day he was hanged. My father at least escaped such aninauspicious death. Entrenched in his room and well armed, he defendedhimself until he fell. The next day the Governor's decree was proclaimedto the sound of the trumpet pronouncing sentence of death upon all whothenceforward gave aid or comfort to the heads of the sedition. From myplace of concealment I could hear the proclamation distinctly. I wishedto surrender myself, in order to free my host from the responsibilitythat rested upon him. Besides, I was tired of life. The miscarriage ofour insurrectionary plans, the death of my father, of Serdan, of Tina mybride--the certainty of your love, Bertha, the prospect of being rebornin the invisible world, everything drove me toward what is called death.I only regretted not having seen you once more on this earth. Frightenedat my determination to surrender myself, my host opposed it warmly.Finding me set upon my purpose, he offered me a means of escape that heconsidered safe, although singular. The cemetery of the Protestants ofNantes lies outside of the walls, as a sign of contempt. It is nowforbidden to the Reformed pastors to accompany a corpse to its lastresting place. My host proposed to place me in a coffin. Two men were totransport me out of town, as if they were carrying a Protestant corpseto the grave. The plan was carried out. In that manner I was enabled toleave Nantes. Obsessed with the wish of seeing you I came to Mezlean,traveling only by night, and occasionally stopping at some solitarypeasant's hut, or hiding in the forest. In that way I succeeded incoming to you. And now, Bertha, let us forget the past, let us thinkonly of the present. A dazzling future discloses itself to my eyes."

  Nominoe was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Marion, who, a prey toviolent anxiety, cried out from the threshold:

  "An officer of the King! and soldiers!"

  "What does the officer want?" asked Bertha without stirring.

  "To search the manor, instantly, he says, for a criminal. The porterrefused to open the gate without your orders, mademoiselle; the officerthreatens to use force."

  "Heaven and earth! They will not take me alive!" cried Nominoe, drawinghis dagger partly out of its sheath. "The soldiers of the Grand Monarchwill not enjoy the pleasure of arresting me--I shall escape theirgibbet."

  "Keep cool, my friend; keep cool," replied Mademoiselle Plouernel,stepping towards the door of the hall with a tranquil smile. "Come,nurse."

  "Bertha," asked Nominoe, "where are you going?"

  "I am going to ask the officer whether he has completely lost hissenses. What! Armed men demand, at this advanced hour of the night, tosearch the house of Mademoiselle Plouernel, when she is at home! No, no!I shall induce the noble officer to postpone his search for to-morrow. Ifeel certain the officer will feel happy to accede to my wishes."

  "And suppose the officer should persist in forcing his way in?"

  "Mademoiselle, there is a safe way of escape," said Marion anxiously."The passage that leads from the close to the orchard runs under thepath that skirts the walls of the garden; once in the orchard, thefields and the seashore can be safely reached."

  "Mademoiselle!" the old equerry in turn ran in crying bewildered: "Thesoldiers have entered the yard and are trying to beat down the housedoor with the butts of their muskets."

  "The door is thick; the walls of the close are high; we still have thepassage to the orchard," observed Bertha calmly, and she added almostmirthfully: "If, contrary to my expectations, and after having _heard_me--I shall say nothing of after having _seen_ me--the officer shouldpersist in his savage conduct, then I shall return here instantly, andwe shall have time to carry out our project, Nominoe. I have penetratedyour thought. It is in accord with mine."

  As Mademoiselle Plouernel uttered these last words she cast upon Nominoea glance that intoxicated him. She left the hall followed by Marion andthe old equerry and went to the manor door.

  Left alone, Nominoe exclaimed in a transport of joy:

  "She knows my mind! Oh, God be blessed for having brought me back toMezlean! The min
utes are numbered! I must now hasten to fulfill myfather's wishes in the matter of our family narratives and relics. Onthe eve of the insurrection he deposited them at Vannes with a faithfuland devoted friend, the only relative we have left in Brittany."

  Nominoe drew a thick package from his pocket, laid it beside him, andrapidly covered several leaves with a fine and close writing.Mademoiselle Plouernel re-entered the hall, and smilingly said toNominoe:

  "We were wholly wrong, my friend, in doubting the gallantry of theofficer. 'Is it not true, monsieur,' I asked him, 'that it is not yourintention to invade to-night the dwelling of a young lady, who is alonein her house with her nurse and an old grey-headed equerry? To-morrow itwill be daylight. The gate of the manor shall be thrown open to you. Youshall then search for your criminal. Place your sentries at the gate.Surround the walls, if you fear escape in that quarter. To-morrow Ishould be happy to express to you my appreciation of your courtesy, andto the best of my powers I shall do you the honors of my house.' Ourman," Bertha added, "lost himself in apologies; he postponed forto-morrow his visit to the manor, and asked my pardon for the liberty hewould take of placing sentrymen at the gate and at the wall of the closein order to render all escape impossible. Thereupon I bade the officergood evening--and here I am back again."

  "But now, my friend," Bertha proceeded in a more serious tone, after apause, "in an hour it will be daylight. Before that hour shall haveelapsed we must take and carry out a resolution that has been longdecreed. You must have been convinced thereof by the letter which Iwrote to you. And, once upon this subject, I must say that, even if thedeath of your bride had not rendered our marriage impossible, it becameso by reason of your encounter with my brother. You struck him with asword; I could not accept your hand, now that it is reddened with mybrother's blood. Above all, however legitimate the revolt was, it causedhis death, and you were one of the chiefs of the uprising. An abyssseparates us in this world, Nominoe. Back in this manor after theburning of the Castle of Plouernel, I faced the reality withoutweakness. Our separation, the barriers that rendered our unionimpossible, weakened in nothing my love. That can not be affected byearthly causes. But my existence--sorely tried by so many misfortunes,by so many and cruel disappointments, even in the bosom of my ownfamily--was becoming intolerable to me. Our marriage being broken off,my life lacked purpose. Then came the passionate desire to see my motheragain, and shall I confess it to you?--an invincible, a devouringcuriosity regarding the worlds where our lives are continued, body andsoul: a curiosity that bordered on vertigo, when, back at Mezlean, andseated here in the evening with my eyes fixed upon the sky, Icontemplated the myriads of stars, where our re-births are effected, asinfinite in number as all eternity. All these reasons determined me toleave this world, to the end of rejoining my mother and waiting for you,Nominoe, there where we shall meet again those whom we have loved. Mydetermination being taken, I wrote to you, I wished to bid you good-byeand receive a word of farewell from you. My emissary departed in questof you. Soon a metamorphosis operated itself in me. The burninginsomnias, the painful anxieties that had so long been undermining myhealth and exhausting my strength, ceased in the face of the certaintythat soon I should meet again my mother, and soon my enchanted eyes willhave opened to the marvels of the new worlds! This assurance gave me theneeded peace of mind. My health recovered rapidly; my days passed inineffable reveries while waiting for the return of the messenger whocarried my letter to you. And yet, at times, I felt a sort of hesitationwith regard to the manner in which I was to undertake that voyage, whichseems so distant, and yet lasts but the length of a breath. I wentalmost every day to Karnak, where your ancestress Hena, the Virgin ofthe Isle of Sen, immolated herself centuries ago, offering her blood asa sacrifice to the gods of Gaul. I delighted in strolling along thatdeserted beach that the winds and waves ever beat against. Occasionally,I clambered up the highest of the Karnak rocks, the top of which offersa sort of platform, and I thought of leaping from there into the wavesthe foam of which seethes at the foot of the boulder. Other times Ithought of imitating your ancestress Hena; I thought of cutting with afirm hand the slender thread that fetters our existence here below. Butone day Marion accidentally informed me that one of her relatives_blew_--besides that he was ruining himself in the attempt to discoverthe philosopher's stone. I knew that those _blowers_, being experts inalchemy, often find in their alembics things that they do not lookfor--subtile poisons, sudden and frightful in their effects, which oursad days have, alas! often seen employed with disastrous results. Amongother things these alchemists have discovered what is called the _powderof succession_. I went with Marion to Vannes, where the good manresides; I promised him a liberal reward if he would prepare me a mortalbeverage, one that was certain and that left the victim in full controlof his senses up to the last moment. Attracted by the prospect of gain,the blower set his retorts over the fire, and, in order to prove to methe efficacy of his liquid, left the room and quickly returned with ablack cat in his arms. 'Just watch the effect of my philter,' said theblower to me, 'watch!' and before I had time to object to theexperiment, he poured a few drops of the liquid into the mouth of thepoor animal. The cat immediately lay down quietly. Her eyes remainedclear, brilliant and alert. She stretched herself out with easyplayfulness. But by little and little sleep seemed to overcome her, shelay down on one side; made a few slight motions--and expired peacefully,without the slightest tremor or symptom of pain. The alchemist had toldme the truth! I took my newly acquired treasure with me. The certaintyof a death that was so easy and sweet capped my sense of security,confidence and safety. Finally, returning to Mezlean this very night, mymessenger informed me of the fruitlessness of his search for you,Nominoe. The revolt, of which you were one of the leaders, has provokedfrightful reprisals. Brittany swims in blood. I decided to depart beforeto-morrow from this homicidal earth. I gave my last instructions to myold servitors. Under the pretext of contemplating a long voyage, Ienclosed my testament in this casket."

  Mademoiselle Plouernel paused. Only then did she notice that Nominoe,who was seated in an attitude of deep meditation, with his foreheadresting upon his hand, was writing with the other. Until that moment thecasket had concealed from Bertha's eyes the motion of his hand.

  "Nominoe!" said Mademoiselle Plouernel in a tone of kind reproach, "Ithought you were listening to my words--what are you writing there?"

  "I am writing down your words, Bertha."

  "Why so?"

  "To join them to this," and Nominoe held up the envelope which he hadlaid upon the table.

  "What does that package contain?"

  "It contains the account of our love, which we may both be proud of. Itis the narrative of what has happened to us, dear Bertha."

  "And for whom do you destine that account?"

  "For the descendants of the Lebrenn family," answered Nominoe, readingfrom one of the pages of his manuscript:

  "Oh, sons of Joel--you who some day will read these lines traced by me, Nominoe Lebrenn, at this supreme hour, at the manor of Mezlean, under the eyes of Bertha of Plouernel--fail not to remember that angel of goodness and of concord, and, in her name, forget, pardon the injuries that her family has done to ours. Be merciful! Neither vengeance nor reprisals!"

  "Noble heart!" answered Bertha with eyes moist with tears, andcontemplating Nominoe with an expression of boundless love."Accordingly, you are resolved, like myself, firmly resolved, to leavethis sad earth for another dwelling place?"

  "Even if an infamous death, from which only voluntary death could snatchme, did not await me to-morrow, my most ardent wish would be toaccompany you, Bertha, upon this mysterious voyage."

  "But to whom are you going to deliver the story of your life? To yourfather's brother, Gildas Lebrenn, the leasehold farmer of Karnak?"

  "We dug the grave of Gildas, who was butchered by the King's soldiers onthe staircase of the Castle of Plouernel."

  "Will you then bequeath it to the father of your bride
, your mother'sbrother?"

  "Tankeru, the blacksmith, was arrested day before yesterday in hishouse, taken to Vannes, and broken alive on the wheel, along with Madokthe miller. The inoffensive Paskou the Long, the 'Baz-valan' of mynuptials, was not spared either--he was hanged, like so many thousandsof other insurgents!"

  Nominoe rose, took up and opened his traveling wallet, and drew from itthe iron head of a heavy blacksmith's hammer.

  "Look at this, Bertha! This shall be joined to our family relics--sadand painful relics of a serf family."

  "What sort of a hammer is that? It carries, cut into the iron head theBreton words _Ez-Libr_."

  "They mean _To Be Free_. It was the device of Tankeru the blacksmith.He used this hammer as his weapon during the insurrection. I arrivedthis morning before dawn in the forest of Mezlean, feeling greatlyalarmed over the fate of Tina's father. I went to his house early thismorning. I calculated upon waiting there for nightfall, not daring todraw near Mezlean by daylight. I found at Tankeru's house only hisdesolate old mother. Tankeru had been arrested. Distracted with despairshe informed me of her son's execution. My eyes alighted upon his hammerwhich lay near his extinct forge. I took its iron head. The blacksmith'shammer shall be joined to our symbolic relics. The manuscripts and therelic are to be forwarded to a relative, an artisan at Vannes, who willtransmit them to his children. One of them will, perhaps, continue ourplebeian annals by writing the history of Mademoiselle Plouernel andNominoe Lebrenn."

  Nominoe then proceeded to write and to read as he wrote:

  "I, Nominoe Lebrenn, write this on the 17th of July, 1675, at the manorof Mezlean, one hour before dawn. Bertha of Plouernel is standing besideme. In a few minutes we shall leave the manor, which is surrounded bysoldiers. The passage that leads from the close to the orchard runsunder the road along which the sentries are on watch."

  Nominoe stopped writing and asked Bertha:

  "I understand it will be easy for us to reach the fields and theseashore after we are in the orchard?"

  "Very easy, my friend. The owners of this manor had the vaulted passagedug under the road in order not to have to cross it every time theywished to go to the garden. The high walls that surround it will shelterus from the sight of the soldiers. The door that leads to the fields canbe easily opened."

  "When we leave the orchard," Nominoe proceeded to write, "we shallhasten to the seashore. The stones of Karnak rise there. The night isclear; the moon shines. Guided by the mellow light of the planet, Berthaand I, holding each other's hands, will climb the stairs of the ancientrock consecrated to the sacrifices, the druid trysting place, where ranthe blood of Hena, the Virgin of the Isle of Sen. When Bertha and Ishall have reached the platform of the granite rock, then, in thepresence of the immensity of the sky and the ocean, the illimitableexpanses of which will spread before our eyes, we shall kneel down, andjoining our voices, say to the God of justice:

  "'We could not be joined in this world--we decided to be joined indeath! in death, the mysterious dawn of our eternal re-birth! Thisexpiatory union of a daughter of the conquering Franks with a son of thesubjugated Gauls being impossible in the sight of man, we consecrate itbefore Thee. Our two souls are merged into one. May it please Thee, Oh,Almighty! that it may be likewise henceforth with our two races whichhave so long been enemies! May it please Thee to cause the one to regretthe iniquities it has committed for these many centuries, and the otherto pardon them! May it please Thee to cause this revolt, to which theoppressed were driven by an excess of hardships, to be a lesson to thevanquishers. May it please Thee so to ordain it that this shall be thelast time blood is shed in these impious conflicts! May it please Theethat in the future the children, whether of the conquerors or theconquered, be forever equal in rights, equal in duties, equal injustice, and be like brothers in a broad humanity, Oh, God our Father!Freedom, equality, fraternity--the Universal Republic!'

  "Having finished our prayer, Bertha and I--"

  "Your pen, my friend!" said Mademoiselle Plouernel. "Give me your pen!"

  And leaning over the table she wrote at the bottom of the page whichNominoe had begun:

  "I, Bertha of Plouernel, close the narrative of what is to happen in afew minutes. Our prayer being finished, Nominoe and I, both upon ourknees and filled with confident joy, will approach our lips to the magicphilter which is to give us admission to the starry spheres; we shallsoon thereupon feel our souls untrammeling themselves from theirterrestrial wrappage, and fly radiant towards the Infinite. Death is butthe separation of the body from the soul."

  As Bertha was tracing these last lines the clock of the manor struckthree in the morning.

  "Nominoe," said Mademoiselle Plouernel, "let us make haste; it will notbe long before daylight. Place this paper and the iron hammer head inyour traveling wallet. We shall leave them upon the table, addressed tothe person that you may designate. My old servant will forward it tohim, as I shall instruct him by a last word from my hand," she added, asshe wrote the instructions to Du Buisson.

  While Nominoe placed the papers and the iron hammer head in his wallet,Bertha opened her casket, took from it a little flask filled with abluish liquid, hid the same in her bosom, wrapped herself in a silkmantle, and reaching out her hand to Nominoe, said with a celestialsmile:

  "Come, my friend, let us depart for those mysterious worlds that noneknows--and which we shall know at the hour of our re-birth!"

  "Let us depart, Bertha!"

  Mademoiselle Plouernel and Nominoe Lebrenn left the hall of the manor ofMezlean to descend into the underground passage.

  * * * * *

  The sky above is beautifully serene. The dew of night impregnates theatmosphere of this delightful summer's night with a delicate freshness.The approaching dawn is paling the stars, and tingeing the easternhorizon purple. The silence of the solitude is alone disturbed by theimposing murmur of the sea, calmly and sonorously rolling upon the shorewhere rise the stones of Karnak, sacred stones of ancient Gaul! giganticpillars of a temple that has the firmament for its dome! Their ten longavenues converge towards the colossal sacrificial altar. Glory to theGod of Gaul!

  The horizon is reddened by the first fires of day. The crests of thelong stretched waves of the azure ocean become transparently ruddy. Thesands of the beach glisten like golden dust. The sun flares up; its raysseem to envelop the sacrificial altar with a dazzling aureola; above,the birds are singing their morning symphony.

  On the altar, lifeless, close to each other, their arms interlaced in asupreme and chaste embrace, lie Bertha of Plouernel and Nominoe Lebrenn.Their beauty survives their death throes. With a smile upon their lipsand their eyes half shut, they seem to slumber wrapped in peacefulrepose. Their immortal soul has left their earthly bodies; it has fledto reincarnate itself in a new body, a body appropriate to the worldthat is to be their dwelling place, like the traveler who dons lighterclothing when journeying in a milder climate.