Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXXIII. THE TEMPLE

  This was the second morning of my life which opened in the narrow cellof a prison; and when I awoke and looked upon the bare, bleak walls, thebarred window, the strongly bolted door, I thought of the time when asa boy I slept within the walls of Newgate. The same sad sounds were nowabout me: the measured tread of sentinels; the tramp of patrols; thecavernous clank of door-closing, and the grating noise of locking andunlocking heavy gates; and then that dreary silence, more depressingthan all,--how they came back upon me now, seeming to wipe out allspace, and bring me to the hours of my boyhood's trials! Yet what werethey to this? what were the dangers I then incurred to the inevitableruin now before me? True, I knew neither the conspirators nor theircrime; but who would believe it? How came I among them? Dare I tell it,and betray her whose honor was dearer to me than my life? Yet it washard to face death in such a cause; no sense of high though unsuccessfuldaring to support me; no strongly roused passion to warm my blood, andteach me bravely to endure a tarnished name. Disgrace and dishonor wereall my portion,--in that land, too, where I once hoped to win fame andglory, and make for myself a reputation among the first and greatest.

  The deep roll of a drum, followed by the harsh turning of keys in thelocks along the corridor, interrupted my sad musings; and the nextminute my door was unbolted, and an official, dressed in the uniform ofthe prison, presented himself before me.

  "Ah, monsieur! awake and dressed already!" said he, in a gay and smilingtone, for which the place had not prepared me. "At eight we breakfasthere; at nine you are free to promenade in the garden or on theterrace,--at least, all who are not _au secret_,--and I have tofelicitate monsieur on that pleasure."

  "How, then? I am not a prisoner?"

  "Yes, _parbleu!_ you are a prisoner, but not under such heavy imputationas to be confined apart. All in this quarter enjoy a fair share ofliberty: live together, walk, chat, read the papers, and have an easytime of it. But you shall judge for yourself; come along with me."

  In a strange state of mingled hope and fear I followed the jailer alongthe corridor, and across a paved courtyard into a low hall, where basinsand other requisites for a prison toilet were arranged around the walls.Passing through this, we ascended a narrow stair, and finally entered alarge, well-lighted room, along which a table, plentifully but plainlyprovided, extended the entire length. The apartment was crowded withpersons of every age, and apparently every condition, all conversingnoisily and eagerly together, and evidencing as little seeming restraintas though within the walls of a cafe.

  The Templars 341]

  Seated at a table, I could not help feeling amused at the strange medleyof rank and country about me. Here were old _militaire_, with bushybeards and mustaches, side by side with muddy-faced peasants, whoselong, yellow locks bespoke them of Norman blood; hard, weather-beatensailors from the coast of Bretagne, talking familiarly with venerableseigneurs in all the pomp of powder and a queue; priests with shavencrowns; young fellows, whose easy looks of unabashed effrontery betrayedthe careless Parisian,--all were mingled up together, and yet not oneamong the number did I see whose appearance denoted sorrow for hiscondition or anxiety for his fate.

  The various circumstances of their imprisonment, the imputation theylay under, the acts of which they were accused, formed the topics ofconversation, in common with the gossip of the town, the news of thetheatres, and the movements in political life. Never was there a societywith less restraint; each man knew his neighbor's history too well tomake concealment of any value, and frankness seemed the order of theday. While I was initiating myself into so much of the habit of theplace, a large, flat, florid personage, who sat at the head of thetable, called out to me for my name.

  "The governor desires to have your name and rank for his list," said myneighbor at the right hand.

  Having given the required information, I could not help expressingmy surprise how, in the presence of the governor of the prison, theyventured to speak so freely.

  "Ha," said the person I addressed, "he is not the governor of theTemple; that's merely a title we have given him among ourselves. Theoffice is held always by the oldest _detenu_. Now he has been here tenmonths, and succeeded to the throne about a fortnight since. The Abbe,yonder, with the silk scarf round his waist, will be his successor, in afew days."

  "Indeed! Then he will be at liberty so soon. I thought he seemed inexcellent spirits."

  "Not much, perhaps, on that score," replied he. "His sentence is hardlabor for life at the Bagne de Toulon."

  I started back with horror, and could not utter a word.

  "The Abbe," continued my informant, "would be right happy to take hissentence. But the governor is speaking to you."

  "Monsieur le sous-lieutenant," said the governor, in a deep, solemnaccent, "I have the honor to salute you, and bid you welcome to theTemple, in the name of my respectable and valued friends here about me.We rejoice to possess one of your cloth amongst us. The last was, if Iremember aright, the Capitaine de Lorme, who boasted he could hit theConsul at sixty paces with a pistol bullet."

  "Pardon, governor," said a handsome man in a braided frock; "we hadDucaisne since."

  "So we had, commandant," said the governor, bowing politely, "and a verypleasant fellow he was; but he only stopped one night here."

  "A single night, I remember it well," grunted out a thick-lipped,rosy-faced little fellow near the bottom of the table. "You 'll meet himsoon, governor; he 's at Toulon. Pray, present my respects--"

  "A fine! a fine!" shouted a dozen voices in a breath.

  "I deny it, I deny it," replied the rosy-faced man, rising from hischair. "I appeal to the governor if I am not innocent. I ask him ifthere were anything which could possibly offend his feelings in myallusion to Toulon, whither for the benefit of his precious health he isabout to repair."

  "Yes," replied the governor, solemnly, "you are fined three francs. Ialways preferred Brest; Toulon is not to my taste."

  "Pay! pay!" cried out the others; while a pewter dish, on which sometwenty pieces of money were lying, was passed down the table.

  "And to resume," said the governor, turning towards me, "the secretarywill wait on you after breakfast to receive the fees of initiation, andsuch information as you desire to afford him for your coming amongstus, both being perfectly discretionary with you. He who desires theprivilege of our amicable reunion soon learns the conditions on which toobtain it. The enjoyments of our existence here are cheap at any price.Le Pere d'Oligny, yonder, will tell you life is short,--very few hereare likely to dispute the assertion, and perhaps the Abbe, Thomas maygive you a strong hint how to make the best of it."

  "_Parbleu_, governor I you forget the Abbe, left us this morning."

  "True, true; how my memory is failing me! The dear Abbe, did leave us,sure enough."

  "Where for?" said I, in a whisper.

  "La Plaine de Grenelle," said the person beside me, in a low tone. "Hewas guillotined at five o'clock."

  A sick shudder ran through me; and though the governor continued hisoration, I heard not a word he spoke, nor could I arouse myself fromthe stupor until the cheers of the party, at the conclusion of theharangue, awoke me.

  "The morning looks fine enough for a walk," said the man beside me."What say you to the gardens?"

  I followed him without speaking across the court and down a flight ofstone steps into a large open space, planted tastefully with trees, andadorned by a beautiful fountain. Various walks and alleys traversedthe garden in every direction, along which parties were to be seenwalking,--some laughing, some reading aloud the morning papers; butall engaged, and, to all seeming, pleasantly. Yet did their recklessindifference to life, their horrible carelessness of each other's fate,seem to me far more dreadful than any expression of sorrow, howeverpainful; and I shrank from them as though the contamination of theirsociety might impart that terrible state of unfeeling apathy they weregiven up to. Even guilt itself had seemed less repulsive than thisshocking and unnat
ural recklessness.

  Pondering thus, I hurried from the crowded path, and sought a lonely,unfrequented walk which led along the wall of the garden. I had notproceeded far when the low but solemn notes of church music struck on myear. I hastened forward, and soon perceived, through the branches of abeech hedge, a party of some sixteen or eighteen persons kneeling on thegrass, their hands lifted as if in prayer, while they joined in a psalmtune,--one of those simple but touching airs which the peasantry of theSouth are so attached to. Their oval faces bronzed with the sun; theirlong, flowing hair, divided on the head and falling loose on eithershoulder; their dark eyes and long lashes,--bespoke them all from thatland of Bourbon loyalty, La Vendue, even had not their yellow jackets,covered with buttons along the sleeves, and their loose hose, evincedtheir nationality. Many of the countenances I now remembered to haveseen the preceding night; but some were careworn and emaciated, as iffrom long imprisonment.

  I cannot tell how the simple piety of these poor peasants touched me,contrasted, too, with the horrible indifference of the others. As Iapproached them, I was recognized; and whether supposing that I was awell wisher to their cause, or attracted merely by the tie of commonmisfortune, they saluted me respectfully, and seemed glad to see me.While two or three of those I had seen before moved forward to speakto me, I remarked that a low, swarthy man, with a scar across his upperlip, examined me with marked attention, and then whispered somethingto the rest. At first he seemed to pay little respect to whatever theysaid,--an incredulous shake of the head, or an impatient motion of thehand, replying to their observations. Gradually, however, he relaxed inthis, and I could see that his stern features assumed a look of kindermeaning. "So, friend," said he, holding out his tanned and powerful handtowards me, "it was thou saved our chief from being snared like a wolfin a trap. Le bon Dieu will remember the service hereafter; and thegood King will not forget thee, if the time ever comes for his betterfortune."

  "You must not thank me," said I, smiling; "the service I rendered wasone instigated by friendship only. I know not your plans; I never knewthem. The epaulette I wear I never was false to."

  A murmur of dissatisfaction ran along the party, and I could mark thatin the words they interchanged, feelings of surprise were mingled withdispleasure. At last, the short man, commanding silence with a slightmotion of the hand, said,--

  "I am sorry for it,--your courage merited a better cause; however, theavowal was at least an honest one. And now, tell us, why came you here?"

  "For the very reason I 've mentioned. My presence at the chateau lastnight, and my discovery during the attack, were enough to impute guilt.How can I clear myself, without criminating those I would not name?"

  "That matters but little. Doubtless, you have powerful friends,--richones, perhaps, and in office; they will bear you harmless."

  "Alas! you are wrong. I have not in all the length and breadth of Franceone who, if a word would save me from the scaffold, would care to speakit. I am a stranger and an alien."

  "Hal" said a fair-haired, handsome youth, starting from the grass wherehe had been sitting, "what would I not give now, if your lot was mine.They 'd not make my heart tremble if I could forget the cabin I was bornin."

  "Hush, Philippe!" said the other, "the weapon is not in their armory tomake a Vendean tremble--But, hark! there is the drum for the inspection.You must present yourself each day at noon, at the low postern yonder,and write your name; and mark me, before we part, it cannot serve us, itmay ruin you, if we are seen to speak together. Trust no one here' Thosewhom you see yonder are half of them _moutons_."

  "How?" said I, not understanding the phrase.

  "Ay, it was a prison word I used," resumed he. "I would say they are butspies of the police, who, as if confined for their offences, are onlyhere to obtain confessions from unguarded, unsuspecting prisoners. Theirfrankness and sincerity are snares that have led many to the guillotine:beware of them. You dare not carry your glass to your lip, but themurmured toast might be your condemnation. Adieu!" said he; and as hespoke he turned away and left the place, followed by the rest.

  The disgust I felt at first for the others was certainly not lessened bylearning that their guilt was stained by treachery the blackest that candisgrace humanity; and now, as I walked among them, it was with a senseof shrinking horror I recoiled from the very touch of the wretches whosesmiles were but lures to the scaffold.

  "Ha! our lost and strayed friend," said one, as I appeared, "come hitherand make a clean breast of it. What amiable weaknesses have introducedyou to the Temple?"

  "In truth," said I, endeavoring to conceal my knowledge of myacquaintances' real character, "I cannot even guess, nor do I believethat any one else is wiser than myself."

  "_Parbleu!_, young gentleman," said the Abbe, as he spied meimpertinently through his glass, "you are excessively old-fashioned foryour years. Don't you know that spotless innocence went out with theBourbons? Every one since that dies in the glorious assertion of hispeculiar wickedness, with certain extenuating circumstances which hecalls human nature."

  "And now, then," resumed the first speaker, "for your mishap,--what wasit?"

  "I should only deceive you were I to give any other answer than myfirst. Mere suspicion there may be against me; there can be no more."

  "Well, well, let us have the suspicions. The 'Moniteur' is late thismorning, and we have nothing to amuse us."

  "Who are you?" cried another, a tall, insolent-looking fellow, with adark mustache. "That 's the first question. I've seen a _mouton_ in ahussar dress before now."

  "I am too late a resident here," answered I, "to guess how far insolencegoes unpunished; but if I were outside these walls, and you also, I 'dteach you a lesson you have yet to learn, sir."

  "_Parbleu!_" said one of the former speakers, "Jacques, he has youthere, though it was no great sharpness to see you were a _blane-bec_."

  The tall fellow moved away, muttering to himself, as a hearty laughbroke forth among the rest.

  "And now," said the Abbe, with a simper, "pardon the liberty; but haveyou had any trifling inducement for coming to pass a few days here? Wereyou making love to Madame la Consulesse? or did you laugh at GeneralBonaparte's grand dinners? or have you been learning the Englishgrammar? or what is it?"

  I shook my head, and was silent.

  "Gome, come, be frank with us; unblemished virtue fares very ill here.There was a gentleman lost his head this morning, who never did anythingall his life other than keep the post-office at Tarbes; but somehowhe happened to let a letter pass into the bag addressed to an elderlygentleman in England, called the Comte d'Artois, not knowing that thecount's letters are always 'to the care of Citizen Bonaparte.' Well,they shortened him by the neck for it. Cruel, you will say; but so muchfor innocence."

  "For the last time, then, gentlemen, I must express my sincere sorrowthat I have neither murder, treason, nor any other infamy on myconscience which might qualify me for the distinguished honor ofassociating with you. Such being the case, and my sense of my deficiencybeing so great, you will, I 'm sure, pardon me if I do not obtrude onsociety of which I am unworthy, and which I have now the honor to wisha good day to." With this and a formal bow, returned equally politely bythe rest, I moved on, and entered the tower.

  Sombre and sad as were my own reflections, yet did I prefer theircompany to that of my fellow-prisoners, for whom already I began toconceive a perfect feeling of abhorrence. Revolting, indeed, was theindifference to fame, honor, and even life, which I already witnessedamong them; but what was it compared with the deliberate treachery ofmen who could wait for the hour when the heart, overflowing with sorrow,opened itself for consolation and comfort, and then search its everyrecess for proofs of guilt that should bring the mourner to thescaffold?

  How any government could need, how they could tolerate, such assassinsas these, I could not conceive. And was this his doing? were these hisminions, whose high-souled chivalry had been my worship and my idolatry?No, no; I'll not believe it. Bo
naparte knows not the dark and terriblesecrets of these gloomy walls. The hero of Arcole, the conqueror ofItaly, wots not of the frightful tyranny of these dungeons: did he butknow them, what a destiny would wait on those who thus stain with crimeand treachery the fame of that "Belle France" he made so great!

  Oh! that in the hour of my accusation,--in the very last of my life,were it on the step of the guillotine,--I could but speak with words toreach him, and say how glory like his must be tarnished if such deedswent on unpunished; that while thousands and thousands were welcominghis path with cries of wild enthusiasm and joy, in the cold cells of theTemple there were breaking hearts, whose sorrow-wrung confessions wereregistered, whose prayers were canvassed for evidences of desires thatmight be converted into treason. He could have no sympathy with men likethese.. Not such the brave who followed him at Lodi; not kindred soulswere they who died for him at Marengo. Alas, alas! how might men readof him hereafter, if by such acts the splendor of his greatness wasto suffer stain! While thoughts like these filled my mind, and in theexcitement of awakened indignation I trod my little cell backwards andforwards, the jailer entered, and having locked the door behind him,approached me.

  "You are the Sous-Lieutenant Burke: is it not so? Well, I have a letterfor you; I promised to deliver it on one condition only,--which is, thatwhen read, you shall tear it in pieces. Were it known that I did this,my head would roll in the Plaine de Grenelle before daybreak tomorrow.I also promised to put you on your guard: speak to few here; confide innone. And now here is your letter."

  I opened the billet hastily, and read the few lines it contained, whichevidently were written in a feigned hand.

  "Your life is in danger; any delay may be your ruin. Address the minister at once as to the cause of your detention, and for the charges under which you are committed; demand permission to consult an advocate, and when demanded it can't be refused. Write to Monsieur Baillot, of 4 Rue Chantereine, in whom you may trust implicitly, and who has already instructions for your defence. Accept the enclosed, and believe in the faithful attachment of a sincere friend."

  A billet de hanque for three thousand francs was folded in the note, andfell to the ground as I read it.

  "_Parbleu!_ I'll not ask you to tear this, though," said the jailer, ashe handed it to me. "And now let me see you destroy the other."

  I read and re-read the few lines over and over, some new meaningstriking me at each word, while I asked myself from whom it could havecome. Was it De Beauvais? or dare I hope it was one dearest to me of allthe world? Who, then, in the saddest hour of my existence, could stepbetween me and my sorrow, and leave hope as my companion in the drearysolitude of a prison?

  "Again I say be quick," cried the jailer; "my being here so long may beremarked. Tear it at once."

  He followed with an eager eye every morsel of paper as it fell from myhand, and only seemed at ease as the last dropped to the ground; andthen, without speaking a word, unlocked the door and withdrew.

  The shipwrecked sailor, clinging to some wave-tossed raft, and watchingwith bloodshot eye the falling day, where no friendly sail has onceappeared, and at last, as every hope dies out one by one within him, hehears a cheer break through the plashing of the sea, calling on himto live, may feel something like what were my sensations, as once morealone in my cell I thought of the friendly voice that could arouse mefrom my cold despair, and bid me hope again.

  What a change came over the world to my eyes! The very cell itself nolonger seemed dark and dreary; the faint sunlight that fell through thenarrow window seemed soft and mellow; the voices I heard without struckme not as dissonant and harsh; the reckless gayety I shuddered at, thedark treachery I abhorred,--I could now compassionate the one and openlydespise the other; and it was with that stout determination at my heartthat I sallied forth into the garden, where still the others lingered,waiting for the drum that summoned them to dinner.