Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XIV. A SURPRISE AND AN ESCAPE

  It is a very common subject of remark in newspapers, and as invariablyrepeated with astonishment by the readers, how well and soundly sucha criminal slept on the night before his execution. It reads like awonderful evidence of composure, or some not less surprising proof ofapathy or indifference. I really believe it has as little relation toone feeling as to the other, and is simply the natural consequence offaculties overstrained, and a brain surcharged with blood; sleep beinginduced by causes purely physical in their nature. For myself, I can saythat I was by no means indifferent to life, nor had I any contempt forthe form of death that awaited me. As localities which have failed toinspire a strong attachment become endowed with a certain degree ofinterest when we are about to part from them for ever, I never heldlife so desirable as now that I was going to leave it; and yet, with allthis, I fell into a sleep so heavy and profound, that I never awoketill late in the evening. Twice was I shaken by the shoulder ere I couldthrow off the heavy weight of slumber; and even when I looked up, andsaw the armed figures around me, I could have lain down once more andcomposed myself to another sleep.

  The first thing which thoroughly aroused me, and at once brightened upmy slumbering senses, was missing my jacket, for which I searched everycorner of my cell, forgetting that it had been taken away, as thenature of my sentence was declared _infamante_. The next shock was stillgreater, when two sapeurs came forward to tie my wrists together behindmy back; I neither spoke nor resisted, but in silent submission compliedwith each order given me.

  All preliminaries being completed, I was led forward, preceded by apioneer, and guarded on either side by two sapeurs of 'the guard'; amuffled drum, ten paces in advance, keeping up a low monotonous rumbleas we went.

  Our way led along the ramparts, beside which ran a row of littlegardens, in which the children of the officers were at play. They ceasedtheir childish gambols as we drew near, and came closer up to watch us.I could mark the terror and pity in their little faces as they gazed atme; I could see the traits of compassion with which they pointed me outto each other, and my heart swelled with gratitude for even so slighta sympathy. It was with difficulty I could restrain the emotion of thatmoment, but with a great effort I did subdue it, and marched on, to allseeming, unmoved. A little farther on, as we turned the angle of thewall, I looked back to catch one last look at them. Would that I hadnever done so! They had quitted the railings, and were now standing ina group, in the act of performing a mimic execution. One, without hisjacket, was kneeling on the grass. But I could not bear the sight, andin scornful anger I closed my eyes, and saw no more.

  A low whispering conversation was kept up by the soldiers around me.They were grumbling at the long distance they had to march, as the'affair' might just as well have taken place on the glacis as two milesaway. How different were my feelings--how dear to me was now everyminute, every second of existence; how my heart leaped at each turn ofthe way, as I still saw a space to traverse and some little intervallonger to live!

  'And mayhap after all,' muttered one dark-faced fellow, 'we shall havecome all this way for nothing. There can be no fusillade without thegeneral's signature, so I heard the adjutant say; and who's to promisethat he 'll be at his quarters?'

  'Very true,' said another; 'he may be absent, or at table.'

  'At table!' cried two or three together; 'and what if he were?'

  'If he be,' rejoined the former speaker, 'we may go back again for ourpains! I ought to know him well; I was his orderly for eight months,when I served in the "Legers," and can tell you, my lads, I wouldn't bethe officer who would bring him a report or a return to sign when oncehe had opened out his napkin on his knee; and it's not very far from hisdinner-hour now.'

  What a sudden thrill of hope ran through me! Perhaps I should be sparedfor another day.

  'No, no we're all in time,' exclaimed the sergeant; 'I can see thegeneral's tent from this; and there he stands, with all his staff aroundhim.'

  'Yes; and there go the other escorts--they will be up before us if wedon't make haste; quick-time, lads. Come along, _mon cher,_' said he,addressing me--'thou'rt not tired, I hope?'

  'Not tired!' replied I; 'but remember, sergeant, what a long journey Ihave before me.'

  '_Pardi!_ I don't believe all that rhodomontade about another world,'said he gruffly; 'the Republic settled that question.'

  I made no reply, for such words, at such a moment, were the mostterrible of tortures to me. And now we moved on at a brisker pace, andcrossing a little wooden bridge, entered a kind of esplanade of closelyshaven turf, at one corner of which stood the capacious tent of theCommander-in-chief, for such, in Moreau's absence, was General Berthier.Numbers of staff-officers were riding about on duty, and a largetravelling-carriage, from which the horses seemed recently detached,stood before the tent.

  We halted as we crossed the bridge, while the adjutant advanced toobtain the signature to the sentence. My eyes followed him till theyswam with rising tears, and I could not wipe them away, as my hands werefettered. How rapidly did my thoughts travel during those few moments.The good old Pere Michel came back to me in memory, and I tried to thinkof the consolation his presence would have afforded me; but I could dono more than think of them.

  'Which is the prisoner Tiernay?' cried a young aide-decamp, cantering upto where I was standing.

  'Here, sir,' replied the sergeant, pushing me forward.

  'So,' rejoined the officer angrily, 'this fellow has been writingletters, it would seem, reflecting upon the justice of his sentence, andarraigning the conduct of his judges. Your epistolary tastes are like tocost you dearly, my lad; it had been better for you if writing had beenomitted in your education. Reconduct the others, sergeant, they arerespited; this fellow alone is to undergo his sentence.'

  The other two prisoners gave a short and simultaneous cry of joy as theyfell back, and I stood alone in front of the escort.

  '_Parbleu!_ he has forgotten the signature,' said the adjutant, castinghis eye over the paper: 'he was chattering and laughing all the time,with the pen in his hand, and I suppose fancied that he had signed it.'

  'Nathalie was there, perhaps,' said the aide-de-camp significantly.

  'She was, and I never saw her looking better. It's something like eightyears since I saw her last; and I vow she seems not only handsomer butfresher, and more youthful, to-day than then.'

  'Where is she going?--have you heard?'

  'Who can tell? Her passport is like a firman--she may travel where shepleases. The rumour of the day says Italy.'

  'I thought she looked provoked at Moreau's absence; it seemed like wantof attention on his part, a lack of courtesy she's not used to.'

  'Very true; and her reception of Berthier was anything but gracious,although he certainly displayed all his civilities in her behalf.'

  'Strange days we live in!' sighed the other; 'when a man's promotionhangs upon the favourable word of a----'

  'Hush!--take care!--be cautious!' whispered the other. 'Let us notforget this poor fellow's business. How are you to settle it? Is thesignature of any consequence? The whole sentence is all right andregular.'

  'I shouldn't like to omit the signature,' said the other cautiously; 'itlooks like carelessness, and might involve us in trouble hereafter.'

  'Then we must wait some time, for I see they are gone to dinner.'

  'So I perceive,' replied the former, as he lighted his cigar, and seatedhimself on a bank. 'You may let the prisoner sit down, sergeant, andleave his hands free; he looks wearied and exhausted.'

  I was too weak to speak, but I looked my gratitude; and sitting downupon the grass, covered my face and wept heartily.

  Although quite close to where the officers sat together chatting andjesting, I heard little or nothing of what they said. Already the thingsof life had ceased to have any hold upon me; and I could have heard ofthe greatest victory, or listened to a story of the most fatal defeat,without the slightest interest or emotion.
An occasional word or a namewould strike upon my ear, but leave no impression nor any memory behindit.

  The military band was performing various marches and opera airs beforethe tent where the general dined, and in the melody, softened bydistance, I felt a kind of calm and sleepy repose that lulled me into aspecies of ecstasy.

  At last the music ceased to play, and the adjutant, starting hurriedlyup, called on the sergeant to move forward.

  'By Jove!' cried he, 'they seem preparing for a promenade, and we shallget into a scrape if Berthier sees us here. Keep your party yonder,sergeant, out of sight, till I obtain the signature.'

  And so saying, away he went towards the tent at a sharp gallop.

  A few seconds, and I watched him crossing the esplanade; he dismountedand disappeared. A terrible choking sensation was over me, and Iscarcely was conscious that they were again tying my hands. The adjutantcame out again, and made a sign with his sword.

  'We are to move on!' said the sergeant, half in doubt.

  'Not at all,' broke in the aide-de-camp; 'he is making a sign for youto bring up the prisoner! There, he is repeating the signal--lead himforward.'

  I knew very little of how--less still of why--but we moved on in thedirection of the tent, and in a few minutes stood before it. Thesounds of revelry and laughter--the hum of voices, and the clink ofglasses-together with the hoarse bray of a brass band, which againstruck up--all were commingled in my brain, as, taking me by the arm, Iwas led forward within the tent, and found myself at the foot of a tablecovered with all the gorgeousness of silver plate, and glowing withbouquets of flowers and fruits. In the one hasty glance I gave, beforemy lids fell over my swimming eyes, I could see the splendid uniforms ofthe guests as they sat around the board, and the magnificent costume ofa lady in the place of honour next the head.

  Several of those who sat at the lower end of the table drew back theirseats as I came forward, and seemed as if desirous to give the general abetter view of me.

  Overwhelmed by the misery of my fate, as I stood awaiting my death, Ifelt as though a mere word, a look, would have crushed me but one momentback; but now, as I stood there before that group of gazers, whoseeyes scanned me with looks of insolent disdain, or still more insultingcuriosity, a sense of proud defiance seized me, to confront and darethem with glances haughty and scornful as their own. It seemed to me sobase and unworthy a part to summon a poor wretch before them, as if towhet their new appetite for enjoyment by the aspect of his misery, thatan indignant anger took possession of me, and I drew myself up to myfull height, and stared at them calm and steadily.

  'So, then!' cried a deep soldierlike voice from the far end of thetable, which I at once recognised as the general-in-chief s--'so, then,gentlemen, we have now the honour of seeing amongst us the hero of theRhine! This is the distinguished individual by whose prowess the passageof the river was effected, and the Swabian infantry cut off in theirretreat! Is it not true, sir?' said he, addressing me with a savagescowl.

  'I have had my share in the achievement,' said I, with the cool air ofdefiance.

  '_Parbleu!_ you are modest, sir. So had every drummer-boy that beat histattoo! But yours was the part of a great leader, if I err not?'

  I made no answer, but stood firm and unmoved.

  'How do you call the island which you have immortalised by your valour?'

  'The Fels Insel, sir.'

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  'Gentlemen, let us drink to the hero of the Fels Insel,' said he,holding up his glass for the servant to fill it. 'A bumper--a full, aflowing bumper! And let him also pledge a toast in which his interestmust be so brief. Give him a glass, Contard.'

  The order was obeyed in a second; and I, summoning up all my courage toseem as easy and indifferent as they were, lifted the glass to my lips,and drained it off.

  'Another glass now to the health of this fair lady, through whoseintercession we owe the pleasure of your company,' said the general.

  'Willingly,' said I; 'and may one so beautiful seldom find herself in asociety so unworthy of her!'

  A perfect roar of laughter succeeded the insolence of this speech; amidwhich I was half pushed, half dragged, up to the end of the table wherethe general sat.

  'How so, _coquin_; do you dare to insult a French general at the head ofhis own staff!'

  'If I did, sir, it were quite as brave as to mock a poor criminal on hisway to his execution!'

  'That is the boy!--I know him now!--the very same lad!' cried the lady,as, stooping behind Berthier's chair, she stretched out her hand towardsme. 'Come here; are you not Colonel Mahon's godson?'

  I looked her full in the face; and whether her own thoughts gave theimpulse, or that something in my stare suggested it, she blushed tillher cheeks grew crimson.

  'Poor Charles was so fond of him!' whispered she in Berthier's ear; andas she spoke, the expression of her face at once recalled where I hadseen her, and I now perceived that she was the same person I had seen attable with Colonel Mahon, and whom I believed to be his wife.

  A low whispering conversation now ensued between the general and her, atthe close of which he turned to me and said--

  'Madame Merlancourt has deigned to take an interest in you--you arepardoned. Remember, sir, to whom you owe your life, and be grateful toher for it.'

  I took the hand she extended towards me, and pressed it to my lips.

  'Madame,' said I, 'there is but one favour more I would ask in thisworld, and with it I could think myself happy.'

  'But can I grant it, _mon cher_?' said she, smiling.

  'If I am to judge from the influence I have seen you wield, madame, hereand elsewhere, this petition will easily be accorded.'

  A slight flush coloured the lady's cheek, while that of the generalbecame dyed red with anger. I saw that I had committed some terribleblunder, but how, or in what, I knew not.

  'Well, sir,' said Madame Merlancourt, addressing me with a statelycoldness of manner, very different from her former tone, 'let us hearwhat you ask, for we are already taking up a vast deal of time that ourhost would prefer devoting to his friends--what is it you wish?'

  'My discharge from a service, madame, where zeal and enthusiasm arerewarded with infamy and disgrace; my freedom to be anything but aFrench soldier.'

  'You are resolved, sir, that I am not to be proud of my protege,' saidshe haughtily; 'what words are these to speak in presence of a generaland his officers?'

  'I am bold, madame, as you say, but I am wronged.'

  'How so, sir--in what have you been injured?' cried the general hastily,'except in the excessive condescension which has stimulated yourpresumption. But we are really two indulgent in this long parley.Madame, permit me to offer you some coffee under the trees. Contardo,tell the band to follow us. Gentlemen, we expect the pleasure of yoursociety.'

  And so' saying, Berthier presented his arm to the lady, who sweptproudly past without deigning to notice me. In a few minutes the tentwas cleared of all, except the servants occupied in removing the remainsof the dessert, and I fell back, unremarked and unobserved, to take myway homeward to the barracks, more indifferent to life than ever I hadbeen afraid of death.

  As I am not likely to recur at any length to the somewhat famous personto whom I owed my life, I may as well state that her name has sinceoccupied no inconsiderable share of attention in France, and herhistory, under the title of _Memoires d'une Contemporaine_, excited adegree of interest and anxiety in quarters which one might have fanciedfar above the reach of her revelations. At the time I speak of, Ilittle knew the character of the age in which such influences wereall powerful, nor how destinies very different from mine hung upon thefavouritism of 'La belle Nathalie.' Had I known these things, and, stillmore, had I known the sad fate to which she brought my poor friend,Colonel Mahon, I might have scrupled to accept my life at such hands,or involved myself in a debt of gratitude to one for whom I wassubsequently to feel nothing but hatred and aversion. It was indeeda terrible period, and in nothing more so than the fa
ct that acts ofbenevolence and charity were blended up with features of falsehood,treachery, and baseness, which made one despair of humanity, and thinkthe very worst of their species.