Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXXIX. A SORROWFUL PARTING

  The general was as good as his word, and I now enjoyed the mostunrestricted liberty; in fact, the officers of the garrison said truly,that they were far more like prisoners than I was. As regularly asevening came, I descended the path to the village, and, as the belltolled out the vespers, I was crossing the little grass-plot to thecottage. So regularly was I looked for, that the pursuits of eachevening were resumed as though only accidentally interrupted. Theunfinished game of chess, the half-read volume, the newly-begun drawing,were taken up where we had left them, and life seemed to have centreditself in those delightful hours between sunset and midnight.

  I suppose there are few young men who have not, at some time or otherof their lives, enjoyed similar privileges, and known the fascination ofintimacy in some household, where the affections became engaged as theintellect expanded, and, while winning another's heart, have elevatedtheir own. But to know the full charm of such intercourse, one must havebeen as I was--a prisoner--an orphan--almost friendless in the world--avery 'waif' upon the shore of destiny. I cannot express the intensepleasure these evenings afforded me. The cottage was my home, and morethan my home. It was a shrine at which my heart worshipped--for I wasin love! Easy as the confession is to make now, tortures would not havewrung it from me then!

  In good truth, it was long before I knew it; nor can I guess how muchlonger the ignorance might have lasted, when General Urleben suddenlydispelled the clouds, by informing me that he had just received from theMinister of War at Vienna a demand for the name, rank, and regiment ofhis prisoner, previous to the negotiation for his exchange.

  'You will fill up these blanks, Tiernay,' said he, 'and within a month,or less, you will be once more free, and say adieu to Kuffstein.'

  Had the paper contained my dismissal from the service, I shame to ownit would have been more welcome! The last few months had changed all thecharacter of my life, suggested new hopes and new ambitions. The careerI used to glory in had grown distasteful; the comrades I once longed torejoin were now become almost repulsive to my imagination. The marquisehad spoken much of emigrating to some part of the new world beyond seas,and thither my fancy alike pointed. Perhaps my dreams of a future werenot the less rose-coloured that they received no shadow from anythinglike a 'fact.' The old lady's geographical knowledge was neitheraccurate nor extensive, and she contrived to invest this land of promisewith old associations of what she once heard of Pondicherry--withcertain features belonging to the United States. A glorious country itwould indeed have been, which, within a month's voyage, realised allthe delights of the tropics, with the healthful vigour of the temperatezone, and where, without an effort beyond the mere will, men amassedenormous fortunes in a year or two. In a calmer mood, I might, indeedmust, have been struck with the wild inconsistency of the old lady'simaginings, and looked with somewhat of scepticism on the map for thatspot of earth so richly endowed; but now I believed everything, providedit only ministered to my new hopes. Laura evidently, too, believed inthe 'Canaan' of which, at last, we used to discourse as freely as thoughwe had been there. Little discussions would, however, now and then varythe uniformity of this creed, and I remember once feeling almost hurt atLaura's not agreeing with me about zebras, which I assured her were justas trainable as horses, but which the marquise flatly refused ever touse in any of her carriages. These were mere passing clouds: the regularatmosphere of our wishes was bright and transparent. In the midst ofthese delicious daydreams, there came one day a number of letters tothe marquise by the hands of a courier on his way to Naples. What theircontents I never knew, but the tidings seemed most joyful, for the oldlady invited the general and myself to dinner, when the table was deckedout with white lilies on all sides; she herself, and Laura also, wearingthem in bouquets on their dresses.

  The occasion had, I could see, something of a celebration about it.Mysterious hints to circumstances I knew nothing of were constantlyinterchanged, the whole ending with a solemn toast to the memory of the'Saint and Martyr'; but who he was, or when he lived, I knew not onesingle fact about.

  That evening--I cannot readily forget it--was the first I had ever anopportunity of being alone with Laura! Hitherto the marquise had alwaysbeen beside us; now she had all this correspondence to read overwith the general, and they both retired into a little boudoir forthe purpose, while Laura and myself wandered out upon the terrace,as awkward and constrained as though our situation had been the mostprovoking thing possible. It was on that same morning I had received thegeneral's message regarding my situation, and I was burning with anxietyto tell it, and yet knew not exactly how. Laura, too, seemed full of herown thoughts, and leaned pensively over the balustrade and gazed on thestream.

  'What are you thinking of so seriously?' asked I, after a long pause.

  'Of long, long ago,' said she, sighing, 'when I was a little child. Iremember a little chapel like that yonder, only that it was not on arock over a river, but stood in a small garden; and though in a greatcity, it was as lonely and solitary as might be--the Chapelle de St.Blois.'

  'St. Blois, Laura!' cried I; 'oh, tell me about that!'

  'Why, you surely never heard of it before,' said she, smiling. 'It wasin a remote quarter of Paris, nigh the outer Boulevard, and known to buta very few. It had once belonged to our family; for in olden times therewere chateaux and country-houses within that space, which then was partof Paris, and one of our ancestors was buried there. How well I rememberit all! The dim little aisle, supported on wooden pillars; the simplealtar, with the oaken crucifix, and the calm, gentle features of thepoor cure.'

  'Can you remember all this so well?' asked I eagerly, for the theme wasstirring my very heart of hearts.

  'All--everything--the straggling, weed-grown garden, through which wepassed to our daily devotions, the congregation standing respectfully tolet us walk by, for my mother was still the great Marquise d'Estelles,although my father had been executed, and our estates confiscated. Theywho had known us in our prosperity were as respectful and devoted asever; and poor old Richard, the lame sacristan, that used to take mymother's bouquet from her, and lay it on the altar; how everythingstands out clear and distinct before my memory! Nay, Maurice, but I cantell you more, for strangely enough, certain things, merely trifles inthemselves, make impressions that even great events fail to do. Therewas a little boy, a child somewhat older than myself, that used to servethe mass with the pere, and he always came to place a footstool or acushion for my mother. Poor little fellow, bashful and diffident he was,changing colour at every minute, and trembling in every limb; and whenhe had done his duty, and made his little reverence, with his handscrossed on his bosom, he used to fall back into some gloomy corner ofthe church, and stand watching us with an expression of intense wonderand pleasure! Yes, I think I see his dark eyes, glistening through thegloom, ever fixed on me! I am sure, Maurice, that little fellow fanciedhe was in love with me!'

  'And why not, Laura? was the thing so very impossible? was it even sounlikely?'

  'Not that,' said she archly; 'but think of a mere child; we were bothmere children; and fancy him, the poor little boy, of some humble house,perhaps--of course he must have been that--raising his eyes to thedaughter of the great "marquise"; what energy of character there musthave been to have suggested the feeling! how daring he was, with all hisbashfulness!'

  'You never saw him afterwards?'

  'Never!'

  'Never thought of him, perhaps?'

  'I'll not say that,' said she, smiling. 'I have often wondered to myselfif that hardihood I speak of had borne good or evil fruit. Had hebeen daring or enterprising in the right, or had he, as the sad timesfavoured, been only bold and impetuous for the wrong!'

  'And how have you pictured him to your imagination?' said I, as ifmerely following out a fanciful vein of thought.

  'My fancy would like to have conceived him a chivalrous adherent to ourancient royalty, striving nobly in exile to aid the fortunes of somehonoured house, o
r daring, as many brave men have dared, the heroic partof La Vendee. My reason, however, tells me that he was far more likelyto have taken the other part.'

  'To which you will concede no favour, Laura; not even the love ofglory.'

  'Glory, like honour, should have its fountain in a monarchy,' cried sheproudly. 'The rude voices of a multitude can confer no meed of praise.Their judgments are the impulses of the moment. But why do we speak ofthese things, Maurice? nor have I, who can but breathe my hopes for acause, the just pretension to contend with you, who shed your blood forits opposite.'

  As she spoke, she hurried from the balcony, and quitted the room. It wasthe first time, as I have said, that we had ever been alone together,and it was also the first time she had ever expressed herself stronglyon the subject of party. What a moment to have declared her opinions,and when her reminiscences, too, had recalled our infancy! How oftenwas I tempted to interrupt that confession by declaring myself, and howstrongly was I repelled by the thought that the avowal might sever usfor ever! While I was thus deliberating, the marquise, with the general,entered the room, and Laura followed in a few moments.

  The supper that night was a pleasant one to all save me. The rest weregay and high-spirited. Allusions, understood by them but not by me, werecaught up readily, and as quickly responded to. Toasts were uttered, andwishes breathed in concert, but all was like a dream to me. Indeed myheart grew*heavier at every moment. My coming departure, of which I hadnot yet spoken, lay drearily on my mind, while the bold decision withwhich Laura declared her faith showed that our destinies were separatedby an impassable barrier.

  It may be supposed that my depression was not relieved by discoveringthat the general had already announced my approaching departure, and thenews, far from being received with anything like regret, was madethe theme of pleasant allusion, and even congratulation. The marquiserepeatedly assured me of the delight the tidings gave her, and Laurasmiled happily towards me, as if echoing the sentiment.

  Was this the feeling I had counted on? were these the evidences ofan affection for which I had given my whole heart? Oh, how bitterlyI reviled the frivolous ingratitude of woman! how heavily I condemnedtheir heartless, unfeeling nature! In a few days, a few hours, perhaps,I shall be as totally forgotten here as though I had never been, and yetthese are the people who parade their devotion to a fallen monarchy, andtheir affection for an exiled house. I tried to arm myself with everyprejudice against Royalism. I thought of Santron and his selfish,sarcastic spirit. I thought of all the stories I used to hear ofcowardly ingratitude and noble infamy, and tried to persuade myself thatthe blandishments of the well born were but the gloss that covered crueland unfeeling natures.

  For very pride s sake, I tried to assume a manner cool and unconcernedas their own. I affected to talk of my departure as a pleasant event,and even hinted at the career that Fortune might hereafter open to me.In this they seemed to take a deeper interest than I anticipated, and Icould perceive that more than once the general exchanged looks withthe ladies most significantly. I fear I grew very impatient at last.I grieve to think that I fancied a hundred annoyances that were neverintended for me, and, when we arose to take leave, I made my adieux witha cold and stately reserve, intended to be strongly impressive and cutthem to the quick.

  I heard very little of what the general said as we ascended the cliff.I was out of temper with him, and myself, and all the world; and it wasonly when he recalled my attention to the fact, for the third or fourthtime, that I learned how very kindly he meant by me in the matter of myliberation; for while he had forwarded all my papers to Vienna, he wasquite willing to set me at liberty on the following day, in the perfectassurance that my exchange would be confirmed.

  'You will thus have a full fortnight at your own disposal, Tiernay,'said he, 'since the official answer cannot arrive from Vienna beforethat time, and you need not report yourself in Paris for eight or tendays after.'

  Here was a boon now thrown away! For my part, I would a thousand timesrather have lingered on at Kuffstein than have been free to travelEurope from one end to the other. My outraged pride, however, put thisout of the question. La Marquise and her niece had both assumed a mannerof sincere gratification, and I was resolved not to be behindhand in myshow of joy. I ought to have known it, said I again and again. I oughtto have known it. These antiquated notions of birth and blood can neverco-exist with any generous sentiment. These remnants of a worn-outmonarchy can never forgive the vigorous energy that has dethroned theirdecrepitude. I did not dare to speculate on what a girl Laura might havebeen under other auspices; how nobly her ambition would have soared;what high-souled patriotism she could have felt; how gloriously shewould have adorned the society of a regenerated nation. I thought of heras she was, and could have hated myself for the devotion with which myheart regarded her.

  I never closed my eyes the entire night. I lay down and walked aboutalternately, my mind in a perfect fever of conflict. Pride, a falsepride, but not the less strong for that, alone sustained me. The generalhad announced to me that I was free. Be it so; I will no longer be aburden on his hospitality. La Marquise hears the tidings with pleasure.Agreed, then, we part without regret. Very valorous resolutions theywere, but come to, I must own, with a very sinking heart and a verycraven spirit.

  Instead of my full uniform, that morning, I put on half dress, showingthat I was ready for the road; a sign, I had hoped, would have spokenunutterable things to La Marquise and Laura.

  Immediately after breakfast, I set out for the cottage. All the way, asI went, I was drilling myself for the interview by assuming a tone ofthe coolest and easiest indifference. They shall have no triumph over mein this respect, muttered I. Let us see if I cannot be as unconcernedas they are! To such a pitch had I carried my zeal for flippancy, that Iresolved to ask them whether they had no commission I could executefor them in Paris or elsewhere. The idea struck me as excellent, soindicative of perfect self-possession and command. I am sure I musthave rehearsed our interview at least a dozen times, supplying all thestately grandeur of the old lady and all the quiet placitude of Laura.

  By the time I reached the village I was quite strong in my part, andas I crossed the Platz I was eager to begin it. This energetic spirit,however, began to waver a little as I entered the lawn before thecottage, and a most uncomfortable throbbing at my side made me standfor a moment in the porch before I entered. I used always to make myappearance unannounced, but now I felt that it would be more dignifiedand distant were I to summon a servant, and yet I could find none. Thehousehold was on a very simple scale, and in all likelihood the laboursof the field or the garden were now employing them. I hesitated what todo, and after looking in vain around the _cour_ and the stable-yard, Iturned into the garden to seek for some one.

  I had not proceeded many paces along a little alley, flanked by twoclose hedges of yew, when I heard voices, and at the same instant my ownname uttered.

  'You told him to use caution, Laura; that we know little of this Tiernaybeyond his own narrative----'

  'I told him the very reverse, aunt. I said that he was the son of aloyal "Garde du Corps," left an orphan in infancy, and thrown by forceof events into the service of the Republic; but that every sentiment heexpressed, every ambition he cherished, and every feeling he displayed,was that of a gentleman; nay, further----' But

  I did not wait for more, for, striking my sabre heavily on the groundto announce my coming, I walked hurriedly forward towards a small arbourwhere the ladies were seated at breakfast.

  I need not stop to say how completely all my resolves were routed by thefew words I had overheard from Laura, nor how thoroughly I recanted allmy expressions concerning her. So full was I of joy and gratitude, thatI hastened to salute her before ever noticing the marquise, or beingconscious of her presence.

  The old lady, usually the most exacting of all beings, took my omissionin good part, and most politely made room for me between herself andLaura at the breakfast-table.

  'You h
ave come most opportunely, Monsieur de Tiernay,' said she; 'fornot only were we just speaking of you, but discussing whether or not wemight ask of you a favour.'

  'Does the question admit of a discussion, madame?' said I, bowing.

  'Perhaps not, in ordinary circumstances, perhaps not; but-----' shehesitated, seemed confused, and looked at Laura, who went on--'My auntwould say, sir, that we may be possibly asking too much--that we maypresume too far.'

  'Not on my will to serve you,' I broke in, for her looks said much morethan her words.

  'The matter is this, sir,' said the aunt: 'we have a very valuedrelative----'

  'Friend,' interposed Laura, 'friend, aunt.'

  'We will say friend, then,' resumed she; 'a friend in whose welfare weare deeply interested, and whose regard for us is not less powerful, hasbeen for some years back separated from us by the force of those unhappycircumstances which have made so many of us exiles! No means haveexisted of communicating with each other, nor of interchanging thosehopes or fears for our country's welfare which are so near to everyFrench heart! He is in Germany, we are in the wild Tyrol, one-half theworld apart, and dare not trust to a correspondence the utterance ofthose sympathies which have brought so many to the scaffold!'

  'We would ask of you to see him, Monsieur de Tiernay, to know him,'burst out Laura; 'to tell him all that you can of France--above all, ofthe sentiments of the army; he is a soldier himself, and will hear youwith pleasure.'

  'You may speak freely and frankly,' continued the marquise; 'the countis man of the world enough to hear the truth even when it gives pain.Your own career will interest him deeply; heroism has always had a charmfor all his house. This letter will introduce you; and as the generalinforms us you have some days at your own disposal, pray give them toour service in this cause.'

  'Willingly, madame,' replied I, 'only let me understand a littlebetter----'

  'There is no need to know more,' interrupted Laura; 'the Count deMarsanne will himself suggest everything of which you will talk. He willspeak of us, perhaps--of the Tyrol--of Kuffstein; then he will lead theconversation to France--in fact, once acquainted, you will follow thedictates of your own fancy.'

  'Just so, Monsieur de Tiernay; it will be a visit with as little ofceremony as possible----'

  'Aunt!' interrupted Laura, as if recalling the marquise to caution; andthe old lady at once acknowledged the hint by a significant look.

  I see it all, thought I De Marsanne is Laura's accepted lover, and I amthe person to be employed as go-between. This was intolerable, and whenthe thought first struck me, I was beside myself with passion.

  'Are we asking too great a favour, Monsieur de Tiernay?' said themarquise, whose eyes were fixed upon me during this conflict.

  'Of course not, madame,' said I, in an accent of almost sarcastic tone.'If I am not wrong in my impressions, the cause might claim a deeperdevotion; but this is a theme I would not wish to enter upon.'

  'We are aware of that,' said Laura quickly; 'we are quite prepared foryour reserve, which is perfectly proper and becoming.'

  'Your position being one of unusual delicacy,' chimed in the marquise.

  I bowed haughtily and coldly, while the marquise uttered a thousandexpressions of gratitude and regard to me.

  'We had hoped to have seen you here a few days longer, monsieur,' saidshe, 'but perhaps, under the circumstances, it is better as it is.'

  'Under the circumstances, madame,' repeated I, 'I am bound to agree withyou'; and I turned to say farewell.

  'Rather, _au revoir_, Monsieur de Tiernay,' said the marquise;'friendship, such as ours, should at least be hopeful; say then _aurevoir_.'

  'Perhaps Monsieur de Tiernay's hopes run not in the same channel as ourown, aunt,' said Laura, 'and perhaps the days of happiness that we lookforward to would bring far different feelings to his heart.'

  This was too pointed--this was insupportably offensive I and I was onlyable to mutter, 'You are right, mademoiselle'; and then, addressingmyself to the marquise, I made some blundering apologies about hasteand so forth; while I promised to fulfil her commission faithfully andpromptly.

  'Shall we not hear from you?' said the old lady, as she gave me herhand. I was about to say, 'Under the circumstances, better not'; but Ihesitated, and Laura, seeing my confusion, said, 'It might be unfair,aunt, to expect it; remember how he is placed.'

  'Mademoiselle is a miracle of forethought and candour too,' said I.'Adieu! adieu for ever!' The last word I uttered in a low whisper.

  'Adieu, Maurice,' said she, equally low, and then turned away towardsthe window.

  From that moment until the instant when, out of breath and exhausted, Ihalted for a few seconds on the crag below the fortress, I knew nothing;my brain was in a whirl of mad, conflicting thought. Every passionwas working within me, and rage, jealousy, love, and revenge werealternately swaying and controlling me. Then, however, as I looked downfor the last time on the village and the cottage beside the river, myheart softened, and I burst into a torrent of tears. There, said I, asI arose to resume my way, there! one illusion is dissipated; let me takecare that life never shall renew the affliction! Henceforth I will be asoldier, and only a soldier.