The Casque's Lark; or, Victoria, the Mother of the Camps

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER V.

  ASSASSINATION OF MARION.

  Endowed with rare sagacity, a straightforward and firm nature, and eversolicitous of the advice of Victoria, Marion's government was markedwith wisdom. The army grew ever more attached to him, and gave himsignal proof of its loyalty and admiration up to the day, exactly twomonths after his acclamation, when he, in turn, fell the victim ofanother horrible crime. I must narrate to you, my son, the circumstancesof this second crime. It is intimately connected, as you will discover,with the bloody plot that drew in its vortex all whom I loved andvenerated, leaving you motherless, me a widower, and Victoria desolate.

  Two months had elapsed since the fatal night when my wife Ellen,Victorin and his son lost their lives. The sight of my house becameinsupportable to me; too many were the cruel recollections thatclustered around it. Victoria induced me to move to her house withSampso, who took your mother's place with you.

  "Here I am, all alone in the world, separated from my son and grandsonto the end of my days," said my foster-sister to me. "You know,Schanvoch, all the affection of my life was centered upon those twobeings, so dear to my heart. Do not leave me alone. Come, you, your sonand Sampso, come and stay with me. You will aid me thereby to bear theburden of my grief."

  At first I hesitated to accept Victoria's offer. Due to a shockingfatality, I was the slayer of her son. True enough, she knew that,despite the enormity of Victorin's outrage, I would have spared hislife, had I recognized him. She was aware of and saw the grief that theinvoluntary and yet legitimate homicide caused me. Nevertheless, andhorrid was the recollection thereof to her, I had killed her son. Ifeared--despite all her protestations, and despite her warmly expresseddesire that I move to her house--that my presence, however much wishedfor during the first loneliness of her bereavement, might become crueland burdensome to her. Finally I yielded. Often did Sampso, in lateryears, say to me:

  "Alas, Schanvoch, it was only after I saw how tenderly you always spokeof Victorin to his mother, who, in turn, spoke to you of my poor sisterEllen in the touching terms that she did, that I, together with allthose who knew us, understood and admired what at first seemedimpossible--the intimacy of you and Victoria, the two survivors of thosevictims of a cruel fatality!"

  Whenever Victoria sufficiently surmounted her grief to consider theinterests of the country, she applauded herself on having succeeded indeciding Captain Marion to accept the eminent post of which he dailyproved himself more worthy. She wrote several times to Tetrik in thatsense. He had left the government of Gascony in order to retire with hisson, then about twenty years of age, to a house that he owned nearBordeaux, and where, as he said, he sought in poetry whatever solace hecould find for the death of Victorin and his son. He composed severalodes on those cruel events. Nothing, indeed, could be more touching thanan ode written by Tetrik on the subject of "The Two Victorins," and sentby him to Victoria. Accordingly, the letters that he addressed to herduring the two months of Marion's administration were marked withprofound sadness. They expressed in a manner at once so simple, sodelicate and so tender the affection he entertained for her family, andthe sorrow that her bereavement caused him, that my foster-sister'sattachment for her relative increased by the day. Even I shared theblind confidence that she reposed in him, and forgot the suspicions thatwere twice awakened in my mind against the man. Moreover, my suspicionsvanished before the answer made to me by Eustace, when I questioned himregarding the soldier, my mysterious traveling companion and perpetratorof the assassination of Victoria's grandson.

  "Commissioned by Captain Marion to provide him with a reliable man foryour escort," Eustace answered me, "I picked out a horseman namedBertal. He was ordered to wait for you at the city gate. After nightfallI left the advanced post of the camp contrary to orders and wentsecretly into the city. I was on my way thither when I met the soldieron horseback. He was riding along the bank of the river, and was on theway to meet you. I told him to say nothing of having met me, should herun across any of our comrades on the road. He promised secrecy, and Iwent my way. Early the next morning, as I was returning along the riverbank from Mayence, where I spent part of the night, I saw Bertal runningtowards me. He was on foot; he was fleeing distractedly before the justrage of our comrades. When I learned from his own mouth the horriblecrime that he even dared to glory in, I killed him on the spot. That isall I know of the wretch."

  So far from the information clearing up, it obscured still more themystery that brooded over that fatal night. The Bohemian girls haddisappeared; and all inquiries set on foot regarding Bertal, mytraveling companion and subsequent perpetrator of such a horrible deedas the murder of a child, agreed in representing the man as a brave andhonest soldier, incapable of the monstrous deed imputed to him, andexplainable only on the theory of drunkenness or insane fury.

  Accordingly, my son, Marion governed Gaul for two months to thesatisfaction of all. One evening, shortly before sunset, seeking somediversion from the grief that oppressed me, I took a walk into the woodsnear Mayence. I had been walking ahead mechanically a long time, seekingonly silence and seclusion and thus penetrating deeper and deeper intothe wood, when my feet struck an object that I had not noticed. Itripped and was thus drawn from my sad revery. At my feet lay a casquethe visor and gorget of which were turned up. I recognized on the spotMarion's casque by those features peculiar to the casque that he wore. Iexamined the ground more attentively by the last rays of the sun whichpenetrated the foliage with difficulty. I detected traces of blood onthe grass; I followed them; they led to a thicket; I entered it.

  There, stretched upon some tree branches that were bent and broken withhis fall, I saw Marion, bareheaded and bathed in his own blood. Ithought he was dead, or at least unconscious. I was mistaken. As Istooped to raise him and to give him some aid, my eyes caught his; theywere fixed but still clear, despite approaching dissolution.

  "Go away, Schanvoch!" Marion said in a voice that though faintingindicated anger. "I dragged myself to this spot in order to die inpeace--I threw myself into this thicket to escape detection. Go away,Schanvoch! Leave me alone!"

  "Leave you!" I cried, looking at him in stupor and observing that hisblouse was red with blood just above the heart. "Leave you when yourblood is flowing over your clothes, and when your wound is perhapsmortal!"

  "Oh, perhaps!" replied Marion with a sarcastic smile. "It is certainlymortal, thanks to the gods!"

  "I shall run to town!" I cried without stopping to consider the distancethat I had just walked, absorbed as I was in my own sorrow. "I shall gofor help!"

  "Ha! Ha! Ha!--to run to the city--and we are two leagues away!" repliedMarion with a lugubrious peal of laughter. "I am not afraid of any helpthat you may bring, Schanvoch. I shall be dead in less than a quarter ofan hour. But, in the name of heaven, go away!"

  "Are you resolved to die--did you smite yourself with your sword?"

  "You have said it."

  "No! You are trying to deceive me. Your sword is in its sheath."

  "What is that to you? Go away--"

  "You were struck by an assassin!" I exclaimed as I ran forward andpicked up a sword still bloody, that my eyes just fell upon and that layat a little distance. "This is the weapon that was used."

  "I fought in loyal combat--leave me--Schanvoch--"

  "You did not fight, and you did not wound yourself. Your sword liesbeside you in its sheath. No, no! You fell under the blows of somecowardly assassin. Marion, let me examine your wound. Every soldier issomething of a surgeon--if the flow of blood is staunched it may beenough to save your life--"

  "Stop the flow of blood!" cried Marion casting at me an angry look."Just you try to stop the flow of the blood from my wound, and you willsee how I will receive you--"

  "I shall endeavor to save you," I answered, "despite yourself."

  As I spoke I approached Marion who lay flat upon his back. Just as Istooped over him he bent both his knees over his stomach and immediatelystruck out violently with his feet. The
kick took me in the chest andthrew me over upon the grass--so powerful was the expiring Hercules.

  "Will you still bring me help despite myself?" asked Marion as I roseup, not angry but desolate over his brutality. If I should be overcomein this sad struggle, it was clear that I would be compelled to give upthe hope of bringing help to the wounded man.

  "Very well! Die!" I said to him, "since such is your wish. Die, sinceyou forget that Gaul needs your services. But be sure of one thing--yourdeath will be avenged--we shall discover the name of your assassin--"

  "There has been no assassin--I gave myself the wound--"

  "This sword belongs to someone," I said picking up the weapon. As Iexamined it I thought I could see through the blood that covered it thatits blade bore an inscription. To ascertain the fact, I wiped it withsome leaves. While I was engaged at this Marion cried in agony:

  "Will you leave that sword alone! Quit rubbing upon the blade! Oh! Mystrength fails me, or I would rise and snatch the weapon from yourhands. A curse upon you, who have come to disturb my last moments! Oh!It must be the devil who sent you!"

  "It is the gods who sent me!" I cried struck almost dumb with horror."It is Hesus who sent me for the punishment of the most horrible ofcrimes! A friend slay his friend!"

  "You lie! You lie!"

  "It is Eustace who dealt you the wound!"

  "You lie! Oh! Why am I sinking so fast--I would smother those words inyour cursed throat!"

  "You were struck by this sword, the gift of your friendship to aninfamous murderer--"

  "It is false!"

  "'_Marion forged this sword for his dear friend Eustace_'--that is thesentence engraved upon this blade," I replied to him pointing with myfinger at the inscription graven in the steel. "This is the sword thatyou forged yourself."

  "The inscription proves nothing," observed Marion in great anguish. "Theman who struck me stole the sword from my friend Eustace--that's all."

  "You still seek to screen that man! Oh! There will be no punishment toosevere for the cowardly murderer!"

  "Listen, Schanvoch," replied Marion in a sinking and suppliant voice: "Iam about to die--nothing is denied to an expiring man--"

  "Oh! Speak! Speak, good and brave soldier. Seeing that, to themisfortune of Gaul, fatality prevents me from saving you, speak! I shallexecute your last will--"

  "Schanvoch, the oath that soldiers give each other at the moment ofdeath--is sacred, is it not?"

  "Yes, my brave Marion."

  "Swear to me--that you will reveal to no one that you found here thesword of my friend Eustace."

  "You, his victim--and you wish to save him!"

  "Promise me, Schanvoch, that you will do as I ask you--"

  "Save the monster from condign punishment! Never! No, a thousand timesno!"

  "Schanvoch, I implore you--"

  "Your murder shall be avenged--"

  "Be, then, yourself accursed! You who say 'No!' to the prayer of anexpiring man--to the prayer of an old soldier--who weeps--you see it. Isit agony?--is it weakness?--I know not, but I weep--"

  And large drops of tears rolled down his face that gradually grew morelivid.

  "Good Marion, your kindheartedness distresses me! You, imploring mercyfor your murderer!"

  "Who else would take an interest in the unhappy fellow--if I did not?"he answered with an expression of ineffable mercifulness.

  "Oh! Marion, those words are worthy of the young man of Nazareth, whommy ancestress Genevieve saw put to death in Jerusalem!"

  "Friend Schanvoch--mercy--you will say nothing--I rely upon yourpromise--"

  "No! No! Your celestial mercifulness only renders the crime moreatrocious. No pity for the monster who slew his friend!"

  "Go away from me!" feebly murmured Marion, sobbing.

  "It is you who harrow my last moments! Eustace only slew my body--butyou, pitiless before my agony, you torture my very soul!"

  "Your despair distresses me--and yet listen, Marion. It is not merelythe friend, the old friend that the assassin struck at--"

  "For twenty-three years we never left each other's side, Eustace and I,"Marion mumbled moaning.

  "No, it is not the friend only that the monster struck in striking you,it was also, and perhaps especially, the Chief of Gaul and general ofthe army that he aimed at. The mysterious cause of this crime may be ofdeep interest to the country's future. The mystery must be fathomed,uncovered--"

  "Schanvoch, you do not know Eustace. He cared little, I know, whether ornot I was Chief of Gaul or general of the army. Moreover, what does thatconcern me--now, when I am about to live in yonder new worlds? All I askof you is that you grant me this last request--do not denounce my friendEustace. I implore you with clasped hands--"

  "Granted! I shall keep the secret, but under one condition, that youinform me how the crime was committed."

  "How can you have the heart to drive such a bargain--the peace ofmind--a dying man--"

  "The welfare of Gaul may be at stake, I tell you! Everything points toan infernal plot in this dark affair, the first victims of which wereVictorin and his son. That is why I insist upon learning from you thedetails of this atrocious murder."

  "Schanvoch--a minute ago I could still distinguish your face--the colorof your clothes--now I see before me only a vague shape. Make haste,make haste!"

  "Answer--how was the crime committed? By Hesus, tell me, and I swear toyou I shall keep the secret--not otherwise."

  "Schanvoch--my good friend--"

  "Was Eustace acquainted with Tetrik?"

  "Eustace never as much as spoke to him--"

  "Are you certain?"

  "Eustace told me so--he ever felt--without knowing why--an aversion forthe governor--I was not surprised at that. Eustace loved only me--"

  "And he killed you! Speak, and I swear to you, by Hesus, that I shallkeep the secret--otherwise, not!"

  "I shall speak--but your silence on the matter will not suffice me. Ascore of times I proposed to my friend Eustace to share my purse--he metmy tender with insults. Oh! his is not a venal soul--not his--he has nomoney--he must surely be without any resources whatever--how will he beable to flee?"

  "I shall help him to flee--I shall furnish him the money that he mayneed--I shall be only too glad to rid the camp of such a monster withall possible speed!"

  "A monster!" murmured Marion reproachfully. "You are very severe towardsEustace."

  "How did he manage to inflict a mortal wound upon you, and what was hisreason? Answer my question."

  "Since I was acclaimed Chief of Gaul and general, my friend Eustacebecame more peevish than ever before, and more sullen--than he usuallywas--he feared, poor soul, that my elevation would make me proud--"

  Marion choked in his speech. Throwing his arms about at random, hecalled out:

  "Schanvoch, where are you?"

  "Here I am, close to you--"

  "I see you no longer," he said in a sinking voice. "Lean my back againsta tree--I am--smothering--"

  With no little difficulty I did what Marion desired; his Herculean bodywas heavy. Finally, however, I succeeded in drawing him up with his backagainst the nearest tree. Reclined against it, Marion continued in avoice that steadily grew feebler:

  "In the measure that--the ill temper of my friend Eustace increased--Isought to show myself even more friendly than usual towards him. I couldunderstand his apprehensions. Already, when I was only a captain, hecould not bring himself to treat me as his former companion at theanvil. When I became general and Chief of Gaul he took me for apotentate. As to myself, certain that I esteemed him none the less--Ialways laughed in his face at his rudeness--I laughed--I did wrong--thepoor fellow was suffering. To make it short--to-day he said to me:'Marion, it is a long time since we took a walk together, shall we takea stroll in the woods, near the city?' I had a conference with Victoria.But fearing to displease my friend Eustace, I wrote to the Mother of theCamps, excusing myself--and he and I started on our walk arm in arm. Iwas reminded of the days of ou
r apprenticeship in the forest ofChartres--where we used to go to trap magpies. I felt buoyant--anddespite my grey beard--knowing that nobody saw us--I indulged in allmanner of boyish tricks in order to amuse Eustace. I mimicked, as in thedays of our boyhood, the cry of--the magpies--by blowing upon a leafheld close to my lips. I did other monkey tricks of the same nature--Itwas singular--I never felt in better spirits than to-day--Eustace, onthe contrary did not move--a muscle of his face--not--a smile could beextracted from him. We were a few steps from here, he behind me--hecalled me--I turned around--and you will see, Schanvoch, that therecould not have been any wicked purpose on his part--only insanity--pureinsanity. The moment that I turned around he threw himself upon me swordin hand--and--as he plunged the weapon into my side he cried: 'Do yourecognize this sword, you who forged it yourself?' I admit--I was not alittle surprised--I fell under the blow--I called out to my friendEustace: 'What ails you? Explain yourself at least. Have I offended youin aught without knowing?' But I was only speaking--to the trees--thepoor crazy man had vanished--leaving his sword beside me--anotherevidence of insanity--the weapon--you will notice--Schanvoch--theweapon--bore on the blade the inscription: 'Marion forged this sword forhis dear friend Eustace.'"

  These were the last intelligible words of the good and brave soldier. Heexpired a few minutes later uttering incoherent words, among which theserecurred with greatest frequency:

  "Eustace," "flee," "save yourself."

  After Marion had given up the ghost, I hastened back to Mayence in orderto notify Victoria of the occurrence, nor did I conceal from her that mysuspicions again pointed to Tetrik as having a hand in the plot. Theman, I explained, left again vacant the government of Gaul by theremoval of Marion, after Victorin and his son were gotten out of theway. Although desolate by the death of Marion, my foster-sistercombated my suspicions with regard to Tetrik. She reminded me that Imyself, more than two months before the murder of Marion, was so struckby the expression of hatred and envy betrayed by the face and words ofthe captain's old companion, that I said to her before Tetrik thatMarion must be very much blinded by his affection to fail to perceivethat his friend was devoured by implacable jealousy. Victoria shared theopinion of the good Marion, that the crime to which he had fallen avictim had no other cause than the envious hatred of Eustace, who wasdriven to the point of insanity by the more recent elevation of hisfriend. Besides, a singular coincidence, on that same day myfoster-sister received from Tetrik, then on his way to Italy, a letterin which he informed her that seeing his health was daily declining, thephysicians saw but one chance of safety for him--a trip to some southerncountry. For that reason he was on the way to Rome with his son.

  These facts, Tetrik's conduct since the death of Victorin, the touchingletters that he wrote, together with what seemed to be the irrefutablearguments advanced by Victoria, once more overthrew my mistrust towardthe Governor of Gascony. I also arrived at the conclusion, which wascertainly justified on the face of the events, that, in view of theprevious behavior of Eustace, the atrocious murder committed by him hadno other motive than a savage jealousy, that was driven to the point ofinsanity by the recent distinction that fell to the lot of his friend.

  I kept the promise that I made to the good and brave Marion at the hourof his death. His assassination was attributed to some unknown murderer,but not to Eustace. I took the man's sword with me to Victoria; nosuspicion was drawn to the actual felon, who was never more seen eitherat Mayence, or in the camp. Marion's remains, wept over by the wholearmy, received the pompous military honors due to a general and a Chiefof Gaul.