by Eugène Sue
And my sobs choked me.
“Brother — brother,” said Victoria to me, “this has been a fatal night to us all—”
“Listen further — above all to this,” I said to my foster-sister, controlling my emotion: “At the very moment when I recognized the voice of my expiring wife, I saw by the light of the moon a woman perched on the casement of the window—”
“A woman!” cried Victoria.
“It is she probably whose voice deceived me,” observed Sampso, “by announcing to me a message from Victoria.”
“I think so too,” I replied; “and that woman, doubtlessly the accomplice of Victorin’s crime, called to him, saying it was time to flee, and that she now was his, seeing he had kept the promise that he made to her.”
“A promise?” Again Victoria pondered. “What promise could he have made to her?”
“To dishonor Ellen—”
My foster-sister shuddered and said:
“I repeat it, Schanvoch, this crime is wrapped in some horrible mystery. But who may that woman have been?”
“One of the two Bohemian dancers who recently arrived at Mayence. Listen. Seeing that she received no answer from Victorin, and hearing the distant but approaching clamors of the soldiers who were angrily hastening to my house, she leaped down and vanished. A second after the rumbling of her cart informed me of her flight. In my despair it never occurred to me to pursue her. I knew I had just killed Ellen near the cradle of our son — Ellen, my dearly beloved wife!”
I could not continue. Tears and sobs deprived me of speech. Sampso and Victoria remained silent.
“This is a veritable abyss!” resumed the Mother of the Camps. “An abyss that my mind can not fathom. My son’s crime is great — his intoxication, so far from excusing, only serves to render the deed all the more shameful. And yet, Schanvoch, you know not what love this poor child had for you—”
“Say not so, Victoria,” I murmured, hiding my face in my hands. “Say not so — my despair becomes only more distressing!”
“It is not a reproach that I make, brother,” replied Victoria. “Had I been a witness of my son’s crime, I would have killed him with my own hands, to the end that he cease to dishonor his mother, and Gaul, that chose him chief. I refer to Victorin’s love for you because I believe that, without his being in a state of inebriety and without some dark machination, he never would have committed such a misdeed—”
“As for me, sister, I believe I see through this infernal plot—”
“You do? Speak!”
“Before the great battle of the Rhine an infamous calumny was spread over the camp against Victorin. The army’s affection for him was being withdrawn. Your son’s victory regained for him the soldiers’ affection. See how that old calumny becomes to-day a frightful reality. Victorin’s crime cost him his life — and also his son’s. His stock is extinct. A new chief must now be chosen for Gaul. Is this not so?”
“Yes, brother, all that is true.”
“Did not that unknown soldier, my traveling companion, know when he revealed to me that a crime was being committed in my house — did he not know that unless I arrived in time to kill Victorin myself in the first access of my rage, your son would certainly be slaughtered by the troops who would undoubtedly rise in revolt at the first tidings of the felony?”
“But how,” put in Sampso, “was the army apprised so soon of the felony, seeing that no one left the house?”
Struck by Sampso’s observation the Mother of the Camps started and looked at me. I proceeded:
“Who is the man, Victoria, who tore your grandson from your arms and dashed his life against the ground? The same unknown soldier! Did he yield to an impulse of blind rage against the child? Not at all! Accordingly, he was but the instrument of some ambition that is as concealed as it is ferocious. Only one man had an interest in the double murder that has just extinguished your stock — because, once your stock is extinguished Gaul must choose a new chief — and the man whom I suspect, the man whom I accuse has long wished to govern Gaul!”
“His name!” cried Victoria, fixing upon me a look of intense agony. “The name of the man whom you suspect—”
“His name is Tetrik, your relative, the Governor of Gascony.”
For the first time since I first expressed my suspicions of her relative, did Victoria seem to share them. She cast her eyes upon the corpse of her son with an expression of pitiful sorrow, kissed his icy forehead several times, and after a moment of profound reflection she seemed to take a supreme resolution. She rose and said to me in a firm voice:
“Where is Tetrik?”
“He awaits your orders in the next room, I presume, with Captain Marion. What are your orders?”
“I wish them both to come in, immediately.”
“In this chamber of death?”
“Yes, in this chamber of death. Yes, here, Schanvoch, before the inanimate remains of your wife, my son and his child. If it was that man who wove this dark and horrible plot, then, even if he were a demon of hypocrisy and bloodthirstiness, he can not choose but betray himself at the sight of his victims — at the sight of a mother between the corpses of her son and grandson; at the sight of a husband beside the corpse of his wife. Go, brother. Order them in! Order them in! Then also, we must at all cost find that unknown soldier, your traveling companion!”
“I have thought of that—” and struck with a sudden thought, I added: “It was Captain Marion who chose the rider that was to escort me.”
“We shall question the captain. Go, brother. Order them in! Order them in!”
I obeyed Victoria and called in Tetrik and Marion. Both hastened to answer to the summons.
Despite the grief that rent my heart I had the fortitude to watch attentively the face of the Governor of Gascony. The moment he stepped into the room, the first object he seemed to notice was the corpse of Victorin. Tetrik’s features immediately assumed the appearance of unspeakable anguish; tears flowed copiously down his cheeks; clasping his hands he dropped on his knees near the body and cried in a voice that seemed rent with grief:
“Dead at the prime of his age — dead — he, so brave — so generous! The hope, the strong sword of Gaul. Ah! I forget the foibles of this unhappy youth before the frightful misfortune that has befallen my country!”
Tetrik could not proceed. Sobs smothered his voice. On his knees and cowering in a heap, his face hidden in his hands and dropping scalding tears he remained as if crushed with pain near Victorin’s body.
Standing motionless at the door, Captain Marion was the prey of profound internal sorrow. He indulged in no outbursts of moans; he shed no tears; but he ceased not to contemplate the corpse of Victoria’s grandson with a pathetic expression, as the little body lay in my son’s cradle; and presently I heard him say in a low voice looking from Victoria to the innocent victim:
“What a calamity! Ah! poor child! Poor mother!”
Captain Marion then took a few steps forward and said in short and broken words:
“Victoria — you are to be pitied — I pity you. Victorin loved you — he was a worthy son — I also loved him. My beard has turned grey, and yet I found a delight in serving under that young man. He was the first captain of our age. None of us can replace him. He had but two vices — the taste for wine and, above all, the pest of profligacy. I often quarreled with him on that. I was right, you see it! Well, we must not quarrel with him now. He had a brave heart. I can say no more to you, Victoria. And what would it boot? A mother can not be consoled. Do not think me unfeeling because I do not weep. One weeps only when he can; but I assure you that you have my sympathy from the bottom of my heart. I could not be sadder or more cast down had I lost my friend Eustace—”
And taking a few steps, Marion again looked from Victoria to her little grandson, repeating as his eyes wandered from the one to the other:
“Oh! the poor child! Oh! the poor mother!”
Still upon his knees beside Victorin, Tetrik d
id not cease sobbing and moaning. While his grief was as demonstrative as Captain Marion’s was reserved, it seemed sincere. Nevertheless, my suspicions still resisted the test, and I saw that my foster-sister shared my doubts. Again she made a violent effort over herself and said:
“Tetrik, listen to me!”
The Governor of Gascony did not seem to hear the voice of his relative.
“Tetrik,” Victoria repeated, leaning over to touch the man’s shoulder, “I am speaking to you; answer me.”
“Who speaks?” cried the governor as if his mind wandered. “What do they want? Where am I?”
A moment later he raised his eyes to my foster-sister and cried surprised:
“You here — here, Victoria? Oh, yes! I was with you shortly ago — I had forgotten. Excuse me. My head swims. Alas! I am a father — I have a son almost of the age of this unfortunate boy. More than anyone else, I pity you!”
“Time presses and the occasion is grave,” replied my foster-sister solemnly while she fastened a penetrating look upon Tetrik in order to fathom the man’s most hidden thoughts. “Private sorrow is hushed before the public interest. I have my whole life left to weep my son and grandson; but we have only a few hours to consider the succession of the Chief of Gaul and of the general of the army—”
“What!” exclaimed Tetrik. “At such a moment as this—”
“I wish that before daylight breaks upon us, I, Captain Marion and you, Tetrik, my relative, one of my most faithful friends, you, who are so devoted to Gaul, you, who grieve so bitterly over Victorin — I wish that we three revolve in our wisdom what man we shall to-morrow propose to the army as my son’s successor.”
“Victoria, you are a heroic woman!” cried Tetrik clasping his hands in admiration. “You match with your courage and patriotism the most august women who have honored the world!”
“What is your opinion, Tetrik, as to the successor of Victorin? Captain Marion and myself will speak after you,” the Mother of the Camps proceeded to say without noticing the praises of the Governor of Gascony. “Yes, whom do you think capable of replacing my son — to the glory and advantage of Gaul?”
“How can I give you my opinion?” Tetrik replied dejectedly. “How can I give you advice upon a matter of such gravity, when my heart is racked with pain — it is impossible!”
“It is possible, since you see me here — between the corpses of my son and my grandson — ready to give my opinion—”
“If you insist, Victoria, I shall speak, provided I can collect my thoughts. I am of the opinion that Gaul needs for her chief a wise, firm and enlightened man, a man who inclines to peace rather than to war — especially now when we no longer have the neighborhood of the Franks to fear, thanks to the sword of this young hero, whom I loved and will eternally mourn—”
At this moment the governor interrupted himself to give renewed vent to his grief.
“We shall weep later,” said Victoria. “Life is long enough, but the night is short. It will soon be morning.”
Tetrik wiped his eyes and proceeded:
“As I was saying, the successor of our Victorin should, above all, be a man of good judgment, and of long and approved devotion in the service of our beloved Gaul. Now, then, if I am not mistaken, the only one whom I can think of who unites these virtues, is Captain Marion, whom we see here.”
“I!” cried the captain raising his two enormous hands heavenward. “I, the Chief of Gaul! Grief makes you talk like a fool! I, Chief of Gaul!”
“Captain Marion,” Tetrik resumed in a dismal accent, “I know that the shocking death of Victorin and his innocent child has thrown my mind into disorder and desolation. And yet I believe that at this moment I speak not like a fool but like a sage — and Victoria will herself be of my opinion. Although you do not enjoy the brilliant military reputation of our Victorin, whom we shall never be able to mourn sufficiently, you have deserved, Captain Marion, the confidence and affection of our troops by your good and numerous services. Once a blacksmith, you exchanged the hammer for the sword; the soldiers will see in you one of their own rank rise to the dignity of chief through his valor and their own free choice. They will esteem you all the more knowing, above all, that, although you reached distinction, you never lost your friendship for your old comrade of the anvil.”
“Forget my friend Eustace!” said Marion. “Oh! Never!”
“The austerity of your morals is known,” Tetrik proceeded to say; “your excellent judgment, your straightforwardness, your calmness, are, according to my poor judgment, a guarantee for the future. You have put into practice Victoria’s wise thought that now the days of barren war are ended, and the hour has come to think of fruitful peace. The task is arduous, I admit; it can not choose but startle your modesty. But this heroic woman, who, even at this terrible moment, forgets her maternal despair in order to turn her thoughts upon our beloved country, Victoria, I feel certain, in presenting you to the soldiers as her son’s successor, will pledge herself to assist you with her precious counsel. And now, Captain Marion, if you will hearken to my feeble voice, I implore you, I beg you in the name of Gaul to accept the reins of office. Victoria joins me in demanding of you this fresh proof of self-sacrificing devotion to our common country!”
“Tetrik,” answered Marion in a grave voice, “you have ably described the man who is needed to govern Gaul. There is only one thing to change in the picture that you have drawn, and that is its name. In the place of my name, insert your own — it will then be complete—”
“I!” cried Tetrik. “I, Chief of Gaul! I, who in all my life never have held a sword in my hand!”
“Victoria said it,” replied Marion. “The season for war is over, the season for peace has come. In times of war we need warriors — in times of peace we need men of peace. You belong to the latter category, Tetrik; it is your place to govern — do you not think so, Victoria?”
“By the manner in which he has governed Gascony, Tetrik has shown how he would govern Gaul,” answered my foster-sister; “I join you, captain, in requesting — my relative — to replace my son—”
“What did I tell you?” broke in Captain Marion, addressing Tetrik. “Would you still refuse?”
“Listen to me, Victoria; listen to me, Captain Marion; listen to me, Schanvoch,” replied the governor turning towards me. “Yes, you also, Schanvoch, listen to me, you who are as stricken as Victoria. You, who, in your nervous friendship for this august woman, suspected my sincerity; I wish you all to believe me. I have received an incurable wound here, in my heart, by the occurrences of this fatal night; they have bereft us at once, in the person of our unfortunate Victorin and in that of his innocent son, of the present and the future support of Gaul. It was for the purpose of securing and rendering the future certain that I sought to induce Victoria to propose her grandson to the army as the heir of Victorin, and that I have made this journey to Mayence. My hopes are dashed — an eternal sorrow takes their place—”
After stopping for a moment in order to allow his inexhaustible tears to flow, the governor proceeded:
“My resolution is formed. Not only do I decline the power that is offered me, but I shall also give up the government of Gascony. The few years of life left to me shall henceforth be spent with my son in seclusion and sorrow. At another time I might have been able to render some service to our country, but that is now past with me. I shall carry into my retirement a grief that will be rendered less unbearable by the knowledge that my country’s future is in such worthy hands as yours, Captain Marion, and that Victoria, the divine genius of Gaul, will continue to watch over our land. And now, Schanvoch,” added the Governor of Gascony turning once more towards me, “have I put an end to your suspicions? Do you still think me ambitious? Is my language, are my actions those of a perfidious or treacherous man? Alas! Alas! I never thought that the frightful misfortunes of this night would so soon afford me the opportunity to justify myself—”
“Tetrik,” said Victoria extending h
er hand to her relative, “if ever I could have doubted the loyalty of your heart, I would at this hour perceive my error—”
“And I admit it freely, my suspicions were groundless,” I added in turn. After all that I had seen and heard, I was, as Victoria, convinced of her relative’s innocence. And still, as my mind ever returned to the mysterious circumstances that surrounded the events of that night, I said to Marion, who, silent and pensive, seemed overwhelmed with the tender that was made to him:
“Captain, yesterday I asked you for a discreet and safe man to serve me as escort.”
“You did.”
“Do you know the name of the soldier whom you picked out for me?”
“It was not I who chose him — I do not know his name.”
“And who chose him?” asked Victoria.
“My friend Eustace is better acquainted with the soldiers than I am. I commissioned him to find me a safe man, and to order him to repair after dark to the town gate, where he was to wait for the rider whom he was to accompany on the journey.”
“And after that,” I asked the captain, “did you see your friend Eustace again?”
“No; he has been mounting guard at the outposts of the camp since last evening, and he was not to be relieved until this morning.”
“But at any rate we could learn from him the name of the rider who escorted Schanvoch,” observed Victoria. “I shall let you know later, Tetrik, the importance that I attach to that information, and you will be able to counsel me.”
“You must excuse me, Victoria, if I do not acceed to your wishes,” the governor replied with a sigh. “Within an hour, at earliest dawn, I shall leave Mayence — the sight of this place is too harrowing to me. I have a humble retreat in Gascony; I shall bury my life there in the company of my son; he is to-day the only consolation left to me.”
“My friend,” said Victoria reproachfully, “do you leave me at such a moment as this? The sight of this place is harrowing to you, you say — and what about myself? Does not this place recall at every turn memories that must distress me? And yet I shall leave Mayence only when Captain Marion will no longer stand in need of whatever counsel he may think that he may be in need of from me at the start of his government.”