Robert Tournay: A Romance of the French Revolution

by William Sage

  CHAPTER XI

  UNDER WHICH FLAG?

  As the three men came out into the corridor, the large outer door openedand a sergeant of artillery stepped over the threshold, saluted thecolonel, and stood awaiting orders. The fine snow drifted past him intothe hall, stinging the faces of von Waldenmeer and his two prisoners.

  The colonel turned toward the Frenchmen, and addressing them in hisquick way, said:--

  "It is a vile night. Give me your word not to leave the quarters towhich I assign you until sent for, and I will permit you to pass thenight more in comfort under this roof."

  Tournay gladly assented, the young von Waldenmeer spoke a few words ofcommand to the sergeant, who turned on his heel and repeated the orderin guttural tones to some snow-covered figures behind him. The doorclosed with a loud bang and the escort was heard marching away.

  Colonel Karl then led the way up a broad oaken staircase to a room atthe end of a long corridor on the upper floor.

  "My own room is just opposite," said he with a gesture of the head, ashe threw open the door. "You will be more comfortable here than in theguard-house."

  The house which General von Waldenmeer had chosen for his headquartersat Falzenberg was a commodious one, built around an open court, where insummer a fountain played in the centre of a green grass plot. Tournaystepped to one of the windows and looked out upon the scene. The bronzefigure in the fountain was draped with ice, and a great mound of snowfilled the centre of the square, where the soldiers had cleared apassage for themselves. On the opposite side were the stables, and fromthe neighing and stamping of hoofs, Tournay judged more than a dozenhorses were kept there. Lights flashed here and there as a subaltern orprivate moved about in the performance of the night's duties.

  The first thing which had struck Gaillard's eye on entering was a largecanopied bed. This reminded him too forcibly of his fatigue to beresisted. He threw himself down upon it, boots and all, and was asleepas soon as his head touched the pillow.

  Von Waldenmeer stood in the centre of the room, slapping his hessianswith a little flexible riding-whip. Tournay began to thank him for thecourtesy he had shown them, when the latter stopped him in his abruptway, saying:--

  "I was watching the Marquis de Lacheville's face while he was denouncingMademoiselle de Rochefort, and if ever I saw liar written upon a man'scountenance it was on his then. I wish that he had lied when he accusedyou of being a colonel in the Republican army." And Colonel Karl strodetoward the door impatiently.

  "Why should you have wished that?" demanded Tournay. "I am proud of myposition."

  "Bah!" exclaimed the German, with his hand on the latch, "you should bein the Prussian army. It is an honor to serve in the army that was builtup by the great Frederick. A man of your courage should not be contentto serve among those Republican brigands. Good-night,"--and hedisappeared rapidly through the door, slamming it behind him.

  Tournay roused Gaillard from his slumber. Both men were numb withfatigue. They had not taken off their clothes and slept in a bed sinceleaving Paris, and five minutes later they had thrown off their garmentsand sunk into a deep sleep in the large, white bed.

  For ten hours Tournay slept without moving. Then he yawned, threw outboth arms, opened his eyes a little, and was preparing to sleep againwhen he became conscious that a man was standing beside the bed. Openinghis heavy eyes a little further, he recognized Gaillard and said to himdrowsily:--

  "Well! What is it, Gaillard? Can't I get a few minutes' sleepundisturbed?"

  "The forenoon is half gone," replied Gaillard; "you've slept enough forone man."

  "You don't mean to say that it's morning already!" exclaimed Tournay,leaning on one elbow and blinking at the light.

  "Morning! The finest kind of a morning," replied Gaillard gayly. "I'vebeen up these two hours. I gained permission to go to our carriage, andI have taken out a change of linen from our equipment in the boot."

  Tournay sprang from the bed and looked out of the window. The sun washigh in the heaven, and the day was bright and cold.

  "That Lieutenant Sauerkraut, or whatever his name may be," saidGaillard, "has just come up to say that the general would like to seeyou at your convenience. The lieutenant was particularly civil, for him,so I surmise nothing will interfere with our early departure. It'sastonishing how quickly an underling takes his tone from his superiorofficer. I suppose it will be better for you to wait upon the general atonce, while the old gentleman is in a good humor," continued Gaillard,"and as I have been given the liberty of the courtyard, I will employthe time in looking after our horses."

  "Very well," said Tournay. "I will go to General von Waldenmeer. I hopenothing will interfere with our immediate departure."

  General von Waldenmeer was seated at his table with a pile of maps andpapers before him. At Tournay's entrance the two officers who werestanding at the general's side withdrew to the further end of the room.It was the same room in which the scene of the previous evening hadtaken place. On the table at the general's elbow stood his beer-mug,filled with his morning draught. The old soldier was evidently very muchabsorbed in the work before him, for his heavy brows were drawn overhis eyes and his lips were moving as he studied the papers. From time totime he reached out his left hand mechanically and took up the beer-mug,refreshing himself with a long pull. With the exception of the twoofficers, there were no other occupants of the room.

  The picture of Mademoiselle Edme, as she had appeared when pleading tothe general in his behalf, was so vivid in Tournay's mind that he stoodsilently before the table, oblivious to his surroundings. He remained inthis position for some minutes when the general, upon one of hissearches for inspiration at the bottom of the beer-mug, glanced over therim and saw the Frenchman standing like a statue before him.

  "_Potstausend!_" he exclaimed, as soon as he had set down the mug andwiped the white froth from his mustache. "You were so quiet that Iforgot your existence and have been studying out a plan of campaignagainst General Hoche under your very nose. He's a clever little man, isHoche," continued the old German musingly. "There is some sport inbeating him."

  Tournay smiled quietly at hearing his idol patronizingly spoken of by anofficer who had not won half his fame.

  "I wish you better success than your predecessor in the attempt, Generalvon Waldenmeer," he said.

  The general smiled grimly at this hit and then changed the subject bysaying:--

  "Last evening I told you that I would send you back to France with anescort to the frontier."

  Tournay bowed affirmatively.

  "Since then, Mademoiselle de Rochefort has told me in full the story ofher escape from Tours, recounting your part in it, and dwelling mostflatteringly upon your bravery and discretion."

  Tournay bowed again in acknowledgment.

  "The service you have rendered the daughter of my old friend, byeffecting her rescue and bringing her here in spite of such greatobstacles, makes my obligation to you deep, very deep. My honor and myinclinations are one, when they move me to accord you, not only yourfreedom, but to offer you a commission in my son's regiment, the TenthPrussian heavy artillery."

  If the general had ordered him out to instant execution or conferredupon him in marriage the hand of his daughter Gretchen, Tournay couldnot have felt more surprise. For a few moments he could find no words inwhich to answer, and the general turned to the papers he had just laiddown.

  "Is my entry into your service made a condition of my freedom?" hefinally found breath to inquire.

  The Prussian general looked up from the map he had been studying,pressing his fat finger upon it to mark the place.

  "Certainly not," he replied, "I make no conditions in paying a debt."

  "Then I will take my liberty, which you have promised to restore to me,"answered Tournay, "and return to France."

  It was now the general's turn to be surprised.

  "You mean to say that you will go back to Paris?"

  "I shall return to the French army at--It
is needless to tell you where,as you have been studying the map so attentively."

  "But," interrupted General von Waldenmeer, "within six months our alliedarmies will be in Paris. There will be no more Republic, and every onewho has been instrumental in the death of King Louis XVI. and thedestruction of the monarchy will have to pay the penalty. You are ayoung man. You have been led into this republicanism by older heads. Ioffer you an opportunity--not only of escaping the consequences of yourfolly but the chance of redeeming yourself by fighting on the rightside--and you refuse?" and the general reached out for the beer-mug tosustain himself in his disappointment. He was so sincere in his offerand in his amazement at its refusal that the angry color on Tournay'scheek faded away and a smile crept to his lips.

  "Come," said the old general, putting down his mug after an unusuallylong pull at the contents, "you are thinking better of it. I canunderstand a soldier's disinclination to desert his colors, but this isnot as if I were asking you to be a traitor to your country. A vonWaldenmeer would cut out his own tongue rather than propose that to anyother soldier. I am putting it in your way to leave the service of afaction who by anarchy and rebellion have gained control of France.Under the banner of the allies are the true patriots of your country.You have only to throw off that red, white, and blue uniform and put onthe colors of Prussia and you are one of them."

  Again the flush of resentment rose to Tournay's cheek, but as he lookeddown upon the German general who in perfect good faith and seriousnessmade him such a proposal, and as he realized the utter impossibility ofeither of them ever seeing the subject in the same light, his look ofanger changed to one of amusement, and a grim smile twitched at thecorners of his mustache.

  "I appreciate the honor you would do me, General von Waldenmeer, but Iprefer to pay the penalty of my folly and remain loyal to the FrenchRepublic."

  The general took up his papers again. "Very well," he said gruffly. "Iwill provide you with an escort over the frontier. It will be ready tostart within the hour." His eyebrows came down and he became deeplyimmersed in the study of the map.

  Tournay stood for a few moments looking at the fat forefinger of the oldsoldier as it traced its way over the surface of the map. His thoughtswere of Mademoiselle de Rochefort. He wondered whether she had set outon her way to Hagenhof. He almost hoped that she had left and that hewould be spared the pain of parting from her. Yet if she were still atFalzenberg he knew he never could force himself to leave and not make anattempt to bid her good-by.

  It was with these conflicting emotions, mingled with a reluctance tomention her name to the gruff old general, that he said in a lowvoice:--

  "Has Mademoiselle de Rochefort started on her journey to Hagenhof?"

  He received no answer.

  There had been a slight tremor in his voice as he spoke Edme's name.Hesitating for a moment, he stepped to the table and placing one hand onit he asked again in a steady tone, "When does Mademoiselle de Rochefortgo to Hagenhof?"

  The one word "To-morrow" came abruptly out of the large head buried inthe papers before him.

  Tournay drew a sigh of relief. If she had gone away, leaving him noword, he would have been the most miserable of men. Without furtherwords with the general he turned and left the room.

  As he went along the hallway be heard the rustle of a woman's gownbehind him, and turning, saw to his great satisfaction the figure ofAgatha hurrying toward him.

  "Agatha," he exclaimed, as she came up to him, "where is mademoiselle?Can I see her?"

  "Mademoiselle is in Frau Krieger's apartment at the further end of theeast wing. If you will come with me I will show you where it is. It isfortunate that I have met you as I do, else it would have been difficultto find you in this large place."

  "Then you were sent to fetch me?" inquired Tournay eagerly.

  "I did not say that," replied Agatha with a quiet smile.

  "But you evidently were in search of me," persisted Tournay.

  "I have no time to answer questions now," she replied, with a laugh."Here is the room," and she ushered him into a long old-fashioned salon,whose uncomfortable pieces of furniture looked as if they had stood forgenerations staring at their own ugly reflections in the polishedsurface of the floor.

  At one end of the room stood a porcelain stove in which a fire wasburning; but the large white sepulchral object seemed to chill theatmosphere more than the fire could warm it. Two high windows hung withheavy curtains faced the square in front of the house, while in the reartwo other windows looked out upon the courtyard.

  Frau Krieger, the widow of a Prussian officer of high rank, had reservedthe salon and one or two adjoining rooms for her own use, and saw withpride the remainder of her domicile turned into barracks by General vonWaldenmeer and his staff.

  "Wait here a moment and I will tell mademoiselle," said Agatha,traversing the salon and disappearing through a door in the furtherside. Tournay walked to the front window and glanced out on the street.

  The sentinel at the porte-cochere was on the point of presenting arms toLudwig von Waldenmeer, who rode out; and two of the general's staffofficers stood smoking and chatting in front of the building. Tournay'salert ear caught the sound of light footsteps, and he turned just asEdme crossed the threshold from the inner room.

  He had told himself many times within the last few minutes that theinterview must be a brief one if he were to retain complete mastery overhis feelings. As he approached her, his face, in spite of his efforts tocontrol it, expressed some of the emotions which the sight of herawakened.

  She extended her hand to him in her graceful, natural way, and he bentover it, mechanically uttering the words he had been repeating over andover to himself.

  "I have come, mademoiselle, to say adieu."

  At this, the color which had mantled her cheek as he touched her fingersdisappeared.

  "You have not seen General von Waldenmeer, then?" she asked quickly.

  "Yes, mademoiselle, and because I have seen him I intend to start atonce."

  "General von Waldenmeer says that in less than three months' time thePrussian army will be in Paris," said Edme.

  A slight smile of incredulity was Tournay's only reply.

  "The monarchy will be restored," she continued; "little mercy will beshown the Republicans. They will have justice meted out to them by theirconquerors."

  "The allied armies will never reach Paris, mademoiselle, and before theyrestore the monarchy they must kill every Republican who stands betweenthem and the throne."

  "I do not want them to kill you," she said simply.

  His heart beat wildly. For an instant he did not speak. When he couldtrust his voice to answer he said:--

  "I thank you deeply for your solicitude, mademoiselle, but whateverhappens I must go back to my duty."

  Edme hesitated a moment, then spoke, at first with evident effort; thenwarming into a tone of almost passionate entreaty.

  "You have done much for an unhappy woman, Robert Tournay. Theremembrance of the loyalty and devotion with which you watched over andprotected me shall never pass out of my memory. The de Rocheforts do noteasily forget such a debt as I owe you. In an attempt to repay it insome measure, I persuaded General von Waldenmeer to offer you anhonorable position in his service. I am a proud woman, Monsieur Tournay,and it cost me something to make such an appeal to the Prussian officer,and now you reject his offer and present yourself before me so coollyand say carelessly, 'I have come, mademoiselle, to bid you adieu.'"

  "You think it easy for me to say those words?" replied Tournayvehemently.

  She did not wait for him to finish, but went on:--

  "I place it in your power to serve the rightful cause, honorably andloyally,--the cause of the king; _my_ cause, Robert Tournay, and yourefuse to do so."

  "Do you not see that what you propose would be my dishonor?" he askedgently.

  "No," answered Edme firmly. "You are a brave but obstinate man, whomadly pursues a wicked course; because, having once espous
ed it, youthink to desert it would be disloyal. You are mad, Robert Tournay, but Iwill rescue you from your folly. I will save you in spite of yourself. Icommand you to stay here!" and with the same imperious gesture which heknew so well of old, she stood before him, her dark blue eyes, as wastheir wont under stress of excitement, flashing almost black. The tonewas one of command, but there was in it a note of entreaty that went tohis heart. He caught the hand which she held out to him, and exclaimedfervently:--

  "I would give ten years of life to be able to obey you, but it cannotbe. You do not know what you are asking of me or you would not put myhonor thus upon the rack. It is cruel of you, mademoiselle, but Iforgive you. You cannot understand. How should you--you are of theMonarchy, and I am of the Republic. The Republic calls me and I mustgo."

  "The Republic!" repeated Edme, "Oh! execrable Republic! It has robbed meof everything in the world--family, estate, friends, and now"--Shepaused, the sentence incomplete upon her lips, and looked at him with anexpression of pain upon her face as if some violent struggle weretaking place within her. "And now you are going back to it. You maybecome its victim; you, who are so brave and strong and noble. Yes," shecontinued, "I will give the word its full meaning, Robert Tournay, youare noble--too noble to become a martyr in such a cause. I entreat younot to go. I fear for your safety."

  Tournay's head swam. For a moment he felt that he must fold her in hisarms and tell her that for her sake he would give up everything in theworld for which he had striven,--country, liberty, and honor; theRepublic itself.

  With a mighty effort he threw off the feeling of weakness, passionatelycrying, "For God's sake, mademoiselle, do not speak to me like that. Youwill make me forget my manhood. You will make me act so that yourrespect, which I have been so fortunate as to win, will turn tocontempt. You could almost make me turn traitor to the Republic."

  "What is this Republic? this creature of the imagination which you placeabove all else in the world?" she asked impetuously. "What has it donefor France? What has it done for you?"

  Before Tournay could answer, the sound of martial music was heardoutside, and the measured tread of passing troops shook the room. Hestepped to the window and drawing aside the curtains motioned Edme tocome to his side.

  Wonderingly she approached and saw a brigade of infantry passing inreview of the general of division. They marched with absoluteprecision, the sun reflecting on the polished barrels of their guns ason a solid wall.

  "There go the best troops in the world," said Tournay. Edme looked up inhis face with surprise at his sudden change of manner.

  "The soldiers of Prussia: at the command of their officers they willmarch like that to the batteries' mouth, closing up the gap of thefallen men with clock-work movements. There are two hundred thousand ofthem, and they are preparing to attack France. Joined with them are thetried veterans of Austria. On the sea," he continued, "the fleets ofEngland are bearing down upon the ports of France. In the south, Spainis pouring her soldiers over the Pyrenees. These allied armies havebanded together to destroy France. Yet we shall throw them back again,as we did at Wattignes and at Jemappes. There the flower of the Europeanarmies was scattered by our raw French troops. Although outnumbered andoutmanoeuvred, the _men_ of France hurled back their foes in brokenand disordered array. And why? Because in the heart of every Frenchmanburns the new-born fire of liberty. He is fighting for the freedom hehas bought so dearly. He is fighting for that Republic which has madehim what he is--a _man_! It is France against the world! and by theRepublic alone will she triumph over her enemies. That is my answer,mademoiselle. The Republic has made a new France, and _I_ am part of it.At her call I must leave everything and go to her defense."

  While he spoke thus, Edme saw his face animated with a light she hadlearned to know so well,--the same light that had shone from his eyeswhen he confronted the mob in her chateau; the same fire that flashed ashe defended himself before General von Waldenmeer.

  "You say I place my duty to the Republic above any earthlyconsideration," he said. "Let me tell you that I hold your respect stilldearer. If I should desert my cause, the cause for which I have lived,should I not lose that respect? Ask your own heart, mademoiselle, wouldit not be so?"

  She stood in silence. Then her eyes met his. He read her answer therebefore she spoke, and in the look she gave him he thought he read stillmore--something he dared not believe, scarcely dared hope.

  "You are right," she replied, speaking slowly and distinctly. "Go backto France! It is I who bid you go."

  "I knew you would tell me to go," he replied.

  The sound of voices in the corridor outside fell upon their ears.

  "There are Gaillard and the escort," said Tournay, sadly. "Mademoiselle,good-by! I may never see you again. But I thank God that you are here insafety, and I shall find some happiness in the thought that I have beenan instrument in your deliverance."

  She did not answer, but stretched out her hand to him. He took it, anddropping on one knee, put it to his lips. "It is for the last time," hesaid, looking up at her. His face was deadly pale, and there was a lookof pleading in his brown eyes.

  She placed her other hand upon his head. It was but the slightest touch,as if she yielded to a sudden impulse, and then with the same swiftmovement she drew away from him.

  "As it _must_ be, I pray you to go quickly," she said, and withoutwaiting for a reply she turned and left him.

  Tournay rose to his feet,--"I swear to you now, mademoiselle, that someday I shall see you again," and he rushed from the room to the courtyardbelow.

  "Are the horses ready?" he whispered hoarsely, grasping Gaillard by thearm.

  "At the door with an escort of Prussian officers," was the reply.

  "What time is it?"

  "Three hours before dark."

  "We must be over the frontier and well into France by to-night," wasTournay's rejoinder. "Come!"

  Standing by the window, Edme saw him leap into the saddle. He gave onelook in her direction, but could not see her, concealed as she was bythe heavy curtains.

  She heard the officers laughing and talking among themselves. She sawone of the men jump from his horse, tighten a saddle girth, and remountwith an agile spring. Then Colonel von Waldenmeer approached andaddressed some remark to Robert Tournay. The latter, who had beensitting erect and motionless upon his horse, turned slightly in thesaddle to answer the Prussian officer.

  Edme could see that his features were set and their expression stern.

  Colonel von Waldenmeer mounted his own horse, gave a word of command,and the party started forward.

  Edme watched them as they went up the road. Ten horses riding twoabreast, the snow flying out from under the heels of the gallopinghoofs. She watched them until the square shoulders of Colonel Tournaywere hardly distinguishable from those of Colonel Karl who rode besidehim. The cavalcade disappeared around a bend in the road, and Edmeturned from the wintry aspect without to the dreary salon with a heavyheart.