The Whites and the Blues (19 page)

"As I have been," he answered, laughing.

'' Remember that I offer you a place in my army as a lieutenant, or as an interpreter."

"And you, citizen-general, must remember that I, find ing myself unworthy, have refused. In condemning me they

have put me outside the pale of manhood. Well, I strike them secretly."

"Very well. And now, what do you want?"

"Some money to buy other clothes, and your orders."

Pichegru stretched out his hand and took a folio of as-signats and a pair of scissors from a chair. It was what he received every month for his expenses at the seat of war. The month was not more than half gone, but the folio was nearly used up.

He cut three days' pay, amounting to four hundred and fifty francs, from it and gave them to the spy.

4 * Buy some clothes with that,'' he said.

"That is too much; I shall only want peasant's clothes," said the Pole.

"Perhaps to-morrow you will be obliged to buy another disguise."

"Very well. And now your orders ?"

"Listen carefully to what I have to say," said Pichegru, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder.

The young man listened with his eyes fastened upon Pichegru; it seemed as if he were trying to see as well as to hear the words.

"I am advised," resumed Pichegru, "that the army of the Moselle, commanded by Hoche, is about to join mine. This union accomplished, we shall attack "Woerth, Froesch-willer and Eeichsoffen. Well, I must know the number of men and cannon that defend these places as well as the best points of attack. You will be aided by the hatred that our peasants and the Alsatian bourgeois bear the Prussians.''

"Shall I bring you the information here ? Will you wait for it, or will you start to meet the army of the Moselle ?"

"In three or four days you will probably hear firing in the direction of Marschwiller, Dawendorff, or Uberack; you may join me wherever I am."

Just then the door opened and a young man, about twenty-five or six, wearing a colonel's uniform, entered.

From his light hair and mustache, and ruddy complex-

ion, it was plain to be seen that he was one of the many Irishmen who had taken service in France now that she was likely to go to war with England.

"Ah! is it you, my dear Macdonald," said Pichegru, making a sign to the young man, "1 was just going to send for you; here is one of your Scotch or English country men."

"Neither the English nor the Scotch are my country men, general," said Macdonald. "I am Irish."

"I beg your pardon, colonel," said Pichegru, laughing, "I did not mean to insult you, I only meant that he speaks nothing but English, and, as I do not know it very well, I want to know what he is saying."

*' Nothing is easier,'' replied Macdonald. Then, address ing the young man, he put several questions to him, to which the other replied without an instant's hesitation.

"Has he told you what he wants?" asked Pichegru.

"Yes," replied Macdonald; "he asks for a place in the commissary department.''

"Then," Piehegru said to the Pole, "that is all I wanted to know. Do what you have been told, and do not forget anything. If you will be good enough to translate what I have said to him, Macdonald, you will be doing me a great service.''

Macdonald repeated, word for word, in English, what the general had said. The pretended Englishman bowed and went out.

"Well," asked Pichegru, "how does he speak English?' 7

"Admirably," replied Macdonald; "he has a slight ac cent which makes me think that he comes rather from the provinces than from London or Dublin. Only one would have to be English or Irish to detect it."

"That is all I wanted to know," said Pichegru, with a laugh. And he returned to the large room, followed by Macdonald.

CHAPTER XX

THE DYING MAN T S PROPHECY

MOST of the officers attached to Pichegru's staff were away on some special service or reoonnoissance when Charles reached headquarters.

On the following day, all the orders having been given for a speedy departure, and each one having returned, the breakfast-table was full. At the table, besides Colonel Macdonald, whom we have already seen, were seated four brigadier-generals, the citizens Lieber, Boursier, Michaud and Hermann; two staff-officers, the citizens Gaume and Chaumette; and two aides-de-camp, the citizens Doumerc and Abatucci.

Doumerc was a captain of cavalry and about twenty-two years old; he was born in the neighborhood of Toulon, and, as far as physical excellence went, he was one of the finest men in the army. As for his courage, in those days brav ery was not even considered a merit. He had one of those charming characters which enlivened the calm though some what cold serenity of Pichegru, who rarely took part in the conversation and who smiled as it were with his mind only.

Abatucci was a Corsican. At the age of fifteen he had been sent to the military school of Metz, and had become a lieutenant of artillery in 1789 and captain in 1792. It was while he held the latter rank that he was appointed aide-de camp to Pichegru. He was a fine young man of twenty-two or three, and of acknowledged bravery. He was lithe and vigorous, with a bronzed complexion, which lent to his beauty, of the Greek type, an effect similar to that observed in the ancient medals; and this contrasted strangely with his spontaneous, almost childlike gayety.

Nothing could have been more enjoyable than were the meals of these young men, although the table resembled

that of Lacedaemona. Woe to him who came late, whether detained by love or war; he found the dishes washed and the bottles empty, and had to eat his dry bread amid the laughter and jokes of his companions.

But not a week passed without leaving an empty place at the board. The general, as he entered, would notice it, and, by a gesture, order the cover of the absent one re moved; he had died for his country. They drank to his memory, and all was over.

There was something of sovereign grandeur in this care lessness of life and forgetfulness of death.

The siege of Toulon had engaged the attention of the young men for the last few days almost as much as if they had been actors on the scene.

Toulon, it will be remembered, had been delivered to the English by Admiral Trogoff, whose name, we regret to say, we are not able to find in any encyclopedia; the names of traitors should be preserved.

M. Thiers, doubtless through patriotism, said that he was a Kussian. Alas! he was a Breton.

The first news was not reassuring, and the young men, particularly those who were cavalry officers, had laughed heartily over General Cartaux's plan, which was embodied in the following lines:

The general body of artillery will bombard Toulon for . three days; at the end of which time I shall attack it in three columns and take it.

Then the news came that General Dugommier had suc ceeded Cartaux. This inspired a little more confidence; but as he had returned from Martinique only two years before, and had been a general but eighteen months, he was an unknown quantity.

The last news received was that the siege had been begun according to all the rules of scientific warfare; that the ar tillery in particular was commanded by an officer of merit, and was doing efficient service. The natural result of all

this was that the "Moniteur" was impatiently waited for each day.

It arrived just as they had finished breakfast. The gen eral took it from the hands of the soldier who brought it in, and threw it across the table to Charles, saying: "Here, citizen secretary, this is a part of your duties; look and see if there is anything about Toulon.''

Charles, blushing up to his eyes, opened the paper, and stopped at these words:

Letter from General Dugommier, dated at headquarters at Ottioules, 10th Frimaire, year II.

CITIZEN MINISTER— The day has been hot but fortunate. Two days ago an important battery opened fire on Mai-bosquet, and has done greaL damage to that post and its surroundings. This morning at five o'clock the enemy made a vigorous sortie, by which at first they carried all our advance posts to the left of this battery. At the first firing we were all swiftly transferred to the left wing.

I found almost all our forces in flight. General Gamier complained that his troops had abandoned him, and I or dered him to rally them and to report ready to retake our battery. I took command of the third battalion of the Iser, hoping to reach the same battery by another way. We were fortunate enough to succeed, and the position was soon re covered. The enemy, repulsed, retreated on every side, leaving a large number of wounded and dead. This sortie cost their army more than twelve hundred in killed, wounded, and prisoners; among the latter were several officers of superior rank, including their general-in-chief, O'Hara, who was wounded in the right arm.

Both generals were wounded in this action. I received two severe contusions—one in the right arm and another in the shoulder—neither of which is dangerous. After having repulsed the enemy, our Eepublicans, by a courageous but disorderly movement, marched toward Malbosquet, covered by the formidable fire of this fort. They captured the tents 01 a camp which had been abandoned in consequence of their intrepid movement. This action, which is a great tri umph for the arms of the Eepublic, is an excellent augury for future operations; for what can we not attain by a con certed and organized attack, when we have done so well with an improvised one ?

I cannot sufficiently extol the conduct of all those who fought. Among those who particularly distinguished them selves, and who were of the most assistance to me in rally ing the forces for the advance, were citizens Buona Parte, commanding the artillery, and Ar£na and Cervoni, adju tant-generals. DUGOMMIER, General-in-Chief.

"Buona Parte," said Pichegru; "that must be the young Corsican to whom I was tutor, who showed such a marked talent for mathematics.''

"There is a family named Buonaparte in Ajaccio," said Abatucci, "whose head, Charles de Buonaparte, was aide in Paoli's camp; they are cousins, these Buonapartes."

"The deuce," said Doumerc, "you are all cousins in Corsica.''

"If it is the Buonaparte 1 mean," said Pichegru, "he is a young man five feet one or two inches tall, with straight hair plastered down at the temples, who did not know a word of French when he came to Brienne; he was of a mis anthropic solitary turn of mind, strongly opposed to the union of Corsica with France, and a great admirer of Paoli. In two or three years he learned all that Father Patrault —by the way, Charles, he was the protector of your friend Euloge Schneider—could teach."

"Only," continued Abatucci, "they do not write the name as the 'Moniteur' has it, cut in two in the middle —it is simply Buonaparte."

A loud noise was heard at this point of the conversation, and every one hastened to the window overlooking the Kue de Strasbourg.

They were so near the enemy that they expected a sur prise at every moment. They all seized their swords. Dou-mere, who was nearer the window than the others, not only picked up his sword, but sprang out of the window, and rushed up the street to a turning where he could see the whole length of the road. But when he reached it, he shrugged his shoulders in token of disappointment, and returned to his companions with slow steps and bent head.

"What is it?" asked Pichegru.

"Nothing, general, except the unfortunate Eisemberg and his staff on their way to the guillotine."

"But," said Pichegru, "are they not going straight to the citadel? We have always been spared this sight hitherto."

"That is true, general, but they have resolved to strike a blow this time that will send terror to the hearts of the soldiers. The execution of a general and his staff is such a good example for all the other generals and their staffs, that it has been judged advisable to have us all present at the spectacle.''

"But," hazarded Charles timidly, "those were not sounds of sorrow but bursts of laughter that I heard."

A soldier coming from the same direction as the proces sion chanced to pass at this moment; the general recog nized in him a man from the village of Arbois. He was a chasseur in the eighth regiment named Falou. The general called him by name.

The chasseur stopped short, looked to see who had called Mm, turned on his heel, and saluted.

"Come here," said the general.

The chasseur approached him.

"What is the cause of this laughter?" asked Pichegru. "The people are not insulting the condemned men, are they ?"

'' Quite on the contrary, general, they are pitying them.''

"But what is the meaning of those bursts of laughter then?"

"It is not their fault, general; he would make a mile stone laugh I"

"Who?"

"The surgeon Figeac, who is to be guillotined; he is cracking so many jokes from the top of the cart that even the condemned men are convulsed with laughter."

The general and his companions looked at each other.

1 ' The time seems to me rather ill-chosen for mirth,'' said Pichegru.

"Well, he seems to have found a laughable side to death."