The army was awake and desirous of marching; and as it was nearly five o'clock, the general gave the order to start, telling the soldiers that they should breakfast at Dawendorff, and that they were to have a double ration of brandy.
Skirmishers were thrown out to capture the sentinels as they passed; then they left the woods in three columns, one of which seized and occupied Kaltenhausen, while the other two, to the right and left of the village, drawing their light artillery after them, spread out over the plain, and marched straight for Dawendorff.
The enemy had been surprised in Kaltenhausen, and had therefore made little resistance; but the firing had given the alarm to Dawendorff, and the troops could be seen drawn up in line of battle.
A slight eminence rose at a distance of about half a cannon-shot from the village; the general put his horse to a gallop, and, followed by his staff, gained the summit of the rise, whence he could see the whole field of battle.
When he left, he directed General Macdonald to takethe first battalion of the Indre, which formed the head of the column, and dislodge the enemy from Dawendorff.
He kept the eighth chasseurs near him as a reserve, and in front he posted a battery of six guns. The battalion of the Indre, followed by the rest of the army, strategically disposed, marched straight upon the enemy. Intrenchments had been thrown up outside the village. When the Republicans were not more than two hundred yards away, Pichegru made a sign, and his artillery covered the breastworks with a leaden hail. The Prussians on their side replied with a well-directed fire, which killed about fifty. But the brave battalions which formed the attacking column went steadily forward, and, preceded by beating drums, charged the enemy with the bayonet.
Already harassed by the grape-shot which the general had turned upon them, the enemy abandoned the intrenchments, and the Republicans poured into the village with the Prussians. But in the meantime two large bodies of troops appeared on either side of the village; they were the royalist cavalry and infantry, commanded by the Prince de Condé and the Duc de Bourbon. The two bodies threatened to attack the little army in the rear, as it stood ranged in battle, as it were, behind the battalion of the Indre, of which a part was following it.
Pichegru immediately despatched Captain Gaume, one of his aides-de-camp, to order General Michaud, who commanded the centre, to form his men in a hollow square, and to receive the enemy's charge with the bayonet.
Then calling Abatucci on the other side, he ordered him to put himself at the head of the second regiment of chasseurs and to charge the royalist infantry when he judged that the grape-shot had thrown their lines into sufficient disorder.
From the top of the little hill where he stood fearlessly beside the general, Charles saw, below him, Pichegru and the Prince de Condé, or, in other words, the revolution and the counter-revolution, play at that terrible game of chess which is called war.
He saw Captain Gaume cross at a gallop the broad open space which lay to the left of the hill occupied by Pichegru, to carry the general-in-chief's order to the adjutant-general, Michaud, who had at that very moment perceived that his left was threatened by the Prince de Condé and had anticipated the order sent him.
On the right he saw Captain Abatucci take the head of the chasseurs, and descend the hill at a gentle trot, while three volleys of the cannon, fired one after the other, raked the mass of infantry which was approaching.
There was a movement of hesitation in the royalist ranks by which Abatucci profited. He ordered his men to draw their swords, and on the instant six hundred blades glittered in the rays of the sun.
The Duc de Bourbon attempted to form his men into a square, but either the confusion was too great or the order was given too late. The charge came like the deluge of a waterspout, and cavalry and infantry were seen fighting hand to hand, while, on the other side, Adjutant-General Michaud's men fired when they were not twenty-five feet away.
It would be impossible to describe the effect of this volley, fired at such close quarters. More than a hundred riders fell, some, impelled by their own momentum, rolling as far as the first ranks of the square. The prince then retired to reform his cavalry out of range of the cannon-shot.
At the same moment the battalion of the Indre was seen to retreat, although slowly. They had found the village occupied in force, and had been received by firing from every window, and also from two pieces of cannon which were set up within the village as a battery. The regiment had been obliged to fall back.
The general sent his fourth aide-de-camp, Chaumette, at full gallop to find out what had happened and to direct Macdonald to hold the position at any cost.
Chaumette crossed the field under fire of both theroyalists and the Republicans, and halted within a few feet of the intrenchments to deliver his message. Macdonald replied that he certainly should not yield the position, and that furthermore, as soon as the men had taken breath, he should make a new attempt to recapture the village of Dawendorff. But in order to facilitate the success of the movement he wished that some diversion could be made to draw off the enemy's attention for a few moments.
Chaumette returned to Pichegru, who was stationed so near the battlefield that it took only a few moments to deliver his messages and return to him with the answers.
"Take twenty-five chasseurs and four trumpeters from Abatucci," said Pichegru; "go round the village and enter the street opposite to where Doumerc will charge; have the trumpets blown as loudly as possible while Macdonald charges; the enemy will thus think it is caught between two fires and will yield."
Chaumette rode down the slope of the hill again, reached Abatucci, exchanged a few words with him, took the twenty-five men, and sent another to tell Macdonald to charge, and that he was to attack the enemy in the rear at the same time.
Macdonald immediately raised his sword, the drums beat the charge, and, amid a terrible rattle of musketry, he boldly re-entered the village. Almost at the same moment Chaumette's trumpets were heard at the other end of the village.
The disorder now became general. The Prince de Condé turned upon Michaud and his battalion, which had formed in a square. The royalist infantry began to beat a retreat before Abatucci and the eighth chasseurs; and Pichegru sent half of his reserve, about four or five hundred men, to the assistance of the battalion of the Indre, keeping the other four or five hundred with him to use in case of some unexpected emergency. As the royalist infantry retreated they fired a last volley, not at Abatucci and his chasseurs,but at the group upon the hill, where the Republican general was easily recognized by his plume and his gold epaulets.
Two men fell. The general's horse, struck in the chest, leaped in the air. Charles uttered a sigh and fell forward in his saddle.
"Ah! poor child!" cried Pichegru; "Larrey, Larrey!"
A young surgeon about twenty-six or seven approached. They held the boy upon his horse, and, as in falling he had pressed his hand to his breast, they opened his vest. The general's surprise was great when they discovered a foraging cap between the waistcoat and his shirt. They shook the cap and a bullet fell out.
"It is useless to seek further," said the surgeon; "the shirt is intact and there is no blood. The boy is not strong and the violence of the blow has made him faint. This foraging cap, which would have been of no protection in its proper place, has saved his life here. Give him some brandy and he will be all right."
"How strange," said Pichegru; "this cap belongs to the chasseurs of Condé's army."
Just then Charles revived, and his first movement, on coming to himself, was to look for the foraging cap. He was about to ask for it when he saw it in the general's hand. "Ah! general," he said, "pardon me."
"You may well ask pardon for having given us such a fright."
"Oh! not that," said Charles, smiling and pointing to the cap which Pichegru held in his hand.
"You must explain this to me," said Pichegru.
Charles came close to the general and said in a low voice: "That belongs to the Comte de Sainte-Hermine, that young noble who was shot; and when he was dying he asked me to give it to his family."
"But," said Pichegru, feeling it, "there is a letter inside."
"Yes, general; to his brother. The poor fellow feared it might be lost if he gave it to a stranger."
"While in confiding it to some one from his own part of the country he had nothing to fear, I suppose."
"Have I done wrong, general?"
"It is never wrong to fulfil the wish of a dying man, particularly when that wish is an honorable one. I may even say that it is a sacred duty to do so as soon as possible."
"But I shall probably not return to Besançon at once."
"If I try, perhaps I can find some excuse for sending you there."
"Not because you are displeased with, me, general?" asked the boy, with tears in his eyes.
"No; I will give you some commission which shall prove to your compatriots that the Jura has still another boy in the service of the Republic. Now let us see what is going on yonder."
In a few moments Charles forgot his own accident as his eyes wandered over the battlefield and the town; he held his breath in the absorbing interest of the sight, and, touching the general on the arm, pointed to the men running over roofs, jumping out of windows, and climbing over garden walls in their haste to reach the plain.
"Good," said Pichegru, "we are masters of the town, and the day is ours." Then, turning to Lieber, the only one of his officers near him, he said: "Take command of the reserve and prevent these men from rallying."
Lieber put himself at the head of the four or five hundred men and descended upon the village.
"Now," continued Pichegru with his usual calmness, "let us go to the village and see what is happening."
And accompanied only by twenty-five or thirty chasseurs of the rear-guard, together with General Boursier and Charles, he set off at a gallop on the road to Dawendorff.
Charles cast a last glance at the plain; the enemy were fleeing in all directions. This was the first time that he had seen a battle; he was now to see a battlefield. He had seen the poetical side—the movement, the fire, the smoke;but the distance had concealed all the details. He was now to see the hideous side—the agony, the immobility of death: he was about to enter upon the bloody reality.
The short distance that the little troop was obliged to cover in order to reach the plain was entirely bare, except for the wounded, the dead, and the dying. The fight had lasted barely an hour and a half, but more than fifteen hundred men lay strewn upon the battlefield.
Charles approached the line of dead with a certain degree of apprehension; at the first corpse that his horse encountered the animal shied so violently that the boy was nearly thrown. Pichegru's horse, held in better check, or perhaps better accustomed to such scenes, leaped over the obstacles; in time Charles's horse was forced to follow his example and to leap over the dead.
It was not, however, the dead that made the most impression upon Charles, but the wounded, who sought to drag themselves from beneath the hoofs of the horses of the general and his staff, by a supreme effort, or lay horribly mutilated and muttering, the death-rattle in their throats: "Comrades, for mercy's sake despatch me! despatch me!"
Others again, those who were not so grievously wounded, raised themselves upon their elbows, and, waving their caps, cried: "Long live the Republic!"
"Is this the first time that you have ever seen a battlefield?" asked Pichegru.
"No, general," replied the boy.
"Where have you seen one before?"
"In Tacitus—that of Teutberg, with Germanicus and Cecina."
"Ah, yes," replied Pichegru, "I remember: it is when Germanicus, just before he reaches the forest, finds the eagle of the nineteenth legion which was lost with Varus."
"And do you remember that passage, general, which I understand so well now—'All the army were filled with pity as they thought of relatives, friends, the chances of war, and the destiny of men'?"
"Yes," said Pichegru. "'There were,' said Tacitus, 'in the midst of the vast clearing, whitening bones scattered where the men had fled, and lying in heaps where they had fought.' Oh! I wish I could remember the Latin text, which no translation can equal; wait: 'Medio—'"
"I remember it, general," said Charles; "'Medio campi albentia ossa ut fugerant, ut resisterant.'"
"Well done, Charles," said Pichegru; "your father made me a fine gift when he sent you to me!"
"General," asked Charles, "are you not going to send help to these poor wounded men?"
"Don't you see the surgeons who are going from one to the other, regardless of whether they are friends or enemies? We have gained at least this much in eighteen hundred years of civilization; we do not cut the throats of prisoners upon the altars of Teutates, as in the time of Armin and Marbod."
"And," said Charles, "the conquered generals are not obliged to kill themselves like Varus,infelice dextra."
"Do you think," said Pichegru, laughing, "that it is preferable to be sent to the Revolutionary tribunal like that poor Eisemberg, whose head is constantly before my eyes and whose words are constantly in my mind?"
While they were thus talking they had entered the town. Perhaps the sight was even more terrible there, because the carnage was confined to a smaller space. The fighting had been carried on from house to house. Before trying to escape from the roofs and windows, the Prussians, and particularly a small body of royalists who had remained in the town, had made a desperate defence. When their cartridgeswere exhausted they had seized upon any weapon that came to hand, and had thrown cupboards, bureaus, chairs, and even marbles from the mantel down upon their assailants from the third story windows. Some of the houses were on fire, and as there was nothing left inside to burn, their ruined proprietors, judging it useless to stop the conflagration, stood and watched their possessions burn.
Pichegru gave directions that fires should be put out as soon as possible, and then he went to the town-hall, where he always chose to lodge when on a campaign. There he received his reports.
On entering the court he perceived an ammunition wagon, carefully guarded, bearing the blue coat of arms and the three fleur-de-lis of France; it had been captured at M. de Condé's lodgings. Thinking it of importance, it had been brought to the town-hall, where, as we have said, the general was to lodge.
"Very good," said Pichegru, "I will have the wagon opened in the presence of the staff."
He dismounted, went upstairs, and took up his quarters in the council-chamber, where the officers who had taken part in the engagement arrived one after the other.
The first to come was Captain Gaume. Desiring to take part in the engagement, he had joined the square formed by General Michaud's command, and after three charges, as boldly executed as they were useless, he had seen the Prince de Condé retreat, by a wide circle, in the direction of Haguenau, leaving about two hundred of his men upon the field of battle.
General Michaud was providing lodgings for his soldiers, and had given orders for rations of bread to be cooked and sent to the neighboring villages from Dawendorff.
Then came Chaumette. In pursuance of the general's orders, he had taken his twenty-five men and entered the village at the other end, sounding the charge as boldly as if he had been at the head of six hundred men. The ruse had succeeded; the Prussians and the small body of royalists who were defending the town, believing themselves attacked in front and in the rear at the same time, had fled over the roofs of the houses, as Charles had pointed out to the general.
The next to arrive was Abatucci. He had received a sword-cut in his cheek, and his shoulder, moreover, had been dislocated. The general had noted the splendid courage with which he had charged at the head of his chasseurs; but when they reached the Prussians, the encounter had become a hand-to-hand fight and the individuals had been lost sight of.
Abatucci's horse had been struck by a bullet in the head and had fallen. While endeavoring to extricate himself, Abatucci had been struck by a sabre and had his shoulder dislocated. For a moment he thought himself lost; but a detachment of chasseurs had saved him. Nevertheless, on foot, in the midst of this terrible disorder, he had been in the greatest danger, until the chasseur Falou, the one the general had questioned the previous evening about Eisemberg, had brought him a horse which he had taken from an officer whom he had killed. At such times there is little time for words; Abatucci had grasped the reins with one hand, while with the other he had offered his purse to the chasseur. The latter refused the officer's gift, and as he was carried away by the rush of the combat, Abatucci called after him: "We shall meet again!"
Consequently when he entered the town-hall, Abatucci instituted a search for the chasseur. The young aide-de-camp's force had killed about two hundred men and captured one flag, while they themselves had lost only about eight or ten men.
Macdonald waited until Abatucci had finished his report before beginning his. At the head of the battalion of the Indre he had borne the brunt of the battle, receiving at first the fire from the intrenchments, and then entering the town. We know how he had been received there. Each house had vomited flames like a volcano; but in spite of the rain ofbullets, which had greatly reduced his forces, he had continued to advance, until, turning into the principal street of the town, he had been confronted with two cannon, which had poured forth grape-shot at a distance of only five hundred feet. It was then that the battalion of the Indre had had to beat a retreat, and had fallen back without leaving the town.
True to his promise, Macdonald, after giving his men time to breathe, had re-entered the town, and, animated by the trumpets sounding at the other end of the village, his force reached the great square, intending to capture the two cannon. But the chasseurs had already taken possession of them.
From that moment the village of Dawendorff was won. Besides the two cannon, a military wagon, or caisson, as we have said, bearing the fleur-de-lis of France, had fallen into the hands of the victorious army.
The general, thinking that it might contain money belonging to the Prince de Condé, had given orders to have it opened in the presence of his staff.
Lieber arrived last. Followed by Abatucci's chasseurs, he had pursued the enemy for more than three miles, and had taken three hundred prisoners.
The day had been fortunate; they had slain about a thousand of the enemy, and upward of six hundred had been taken prisoner.
Larrey set Abatucci's dislocated shoulder.
The members of the staff being all present, they went down into the court and a locksmith was sent for. There was one near at hand, and he came shortly, bringing his instruments. In a moment the cover was raised; they found one of the compartments filled with long rolls like cartridges. They broke one and found that it contained gold. Each roll contained one hundred guineas—two thousand five hundred francs, stamped with the effigy of King George. There were three hundred and ten rolls, making in all seven hundred and seventy-five thousand francs.
"Faith!" said Pichegru, "this is wonderfully fortunate; we will use it to pay the soldiers. Are you there, Estève?"
Estève was the paymaster of the Army of the Rhine.
"Have you ascertained how much is due the men?"
"About five hundred thousand francs. I will show you my accounts."
"Take five hundred thousand francs at once, citizen Estève," said Pichegru, laughing, "and pay the men. You will use the ground floor for your office. I will take the next story."
The five hundred thousand francs were counted out to citizen Estève.
"Now," continued Pichegru, "there are twenty-five thousand francs to be divided among the battalion of the Indre, which has suffered the most."
"That is about thirty-nine francs for each man," said citizen Estève.
"You will keep fifty thousand francs for the need of the army."
"And the remaining two hundred thousand francs?"
"Abatucci shall carry them to the Convention, with the flag we have captured; it is well to show the world that Republicans do not fight for money. Let us go upstairs, citizens," continued Pichegru, "and leave citizen Estève to his work."
Pichegru'svalet de chambre, who had the good sense not to change his title for that of an official, and his name of Leblanc for that of Lerouge, had, in the meantime, set the table for breakfast, and covered it with the provisions which he had brought with him—a necessary precaution when, as now, they passed from the battlefield to the breakfast table.
Our young men, wearied, hungry, some of them even wounded, were not insensible to the prospect of breakfast, of which they felt the greatest need. But the cheers of satisfaction redoubled when they saw among a number of bottles, whose simplicity denoted their democratic origin, six others with silver collars, showing that they belonged to the best houses of Champagne.
Pichegru himself noticed it, and, turning to his valet, said with military freedom: "Ah, Leblanc, is it my birthday or yours? Or is it simply to celebrate our victory of to-day that we find such wine upon my table? Do you know that I should get my throat cut for this if it were reported to the Committee of Public Safety?"
"Citizen general," replied the valet, "those are not the reasons, although, for that matter, your victory deserves to be celebrated; and on a day when you have taken seven hundred and fifty thousand francs you may well drink twenty francs' worth of champagne without wronging the government. No, general, do not let your conscience trouble you; the champagne which you will drink to-day will cost neither you nor the government a penny."
"I hope, rascal," said Pichegru, laughing, "that it has not been stolen from some wine merchant, or pillaged from some cellar?"
"No, general, it was a patriotic gift."
"A patriotic gift?"
"Yes, from citizen Fenouillot."
"Who is citizen Fenouillot? Is that the lawyer at Besançon; for there is such a lawyer at Besançon, is there not, Charles?"
"Yes," replied the boy, "he is one of my father's best friends."
"He has nothing to do with lawyers, or with Besançon either for that matter," said Leblanc, who was permitted to speak freely with the general; "he is citizen Fenouillot, commercial traveller for the house of Fraissinet of Châlons, who, in gratitude for the service you have done him in delivering him out of the hands of the enemy, has sent you these six bottles of wine, so that you may drink them to your own health and to that of the Republic."
"Then your citizen Fenouillot was here with the enemy?"
"Certainly, since he was a prisoner, he and his samples."
"Do you hear, general?" asked Abatucci.
"Perhaps he might be able to give us some useful information," suggested Doumerc.
"Where does your citizen live?" asked Pichegru.
"Here, in the hotel to the left of the town-hall."
"Put on an extra plate—there, just opposite mine—and then go tell citizen Fenouillot that I request the pleasure of his company at breakfast with us. Gentlemen, take your customary places while we are waiting."
The officers seated themselves as usual, and Pichegru put Charles at his left.
Leblanc put on the extra plate and then went out.
Five minutes later he returned. He had found citizen Fenouillot just about to sit down to breakfast, but he had eagerly accepted the general's invitation. Consequently, he was following the messenger who had been sent for him; and, in fact, a moment after Leblanc had returned, some one knocked at the door, giving the Masonic raps.
Leblanc hastened to open it.
A man about thirty-five years of age stood upon the threshold, attired in the civilian's dress of that period—a pointed, broad-brimmed hat, a loose cravat, and a waistcoat with large lapels. He had on a brown coat with long skirts, tight, light-colored trousers and top boots; his complexion was fair and his hair curled naturally; he had brown eyebrows and whiskers, the latter half-hidden in his cravat. His eyes were bold, his nose was large and his lips were thin. As he entered the dining-room, Fenouillot hesitated slightly.
"Come in, citizen Fenouillot," said Pichegru, who had seen the hesitation, slight as it was.
"Upon my word," said the latter easily, "the thing wasof so little consequence that I hesitated to believe that your kind invitation was intended for me."
"What of little consequence? Do you know that, with my allowance of five hundred francs a day, I should have to go three days without eating in order to afford fare like this? So sit down opposite me, citizen. Take your place!"
The two officers who were appointed to sit beside him moved their chairs and pointed to his. Citizen Fenouillot sat down, and the general cast a rapid glance at his snow-white linen and his carefully kept hands.
"And you were a prisoner when we entered Dawendorff?"
"About that, general. I did not know the road to Haguenau was invested until I was stopped by some Prussians, who were preparing to drink my samples when, happily, an officer arrived who took me to the commander-in-chief. I thought I had nothing more to fear than the loss of my samples, and was already consoling myself with that notion when the word 'spy' fell upon my ears. At that, as you can readily understand, I began to think, and then I asked to be taken to the commander of the royalists."
"The Prince de Condé?"
"I would have asked for the devil himself, as you can well imagine! They took me to the Prince, who examined my papers, and as I answered all his questions frankly, and he saw, after tasting my wine, that it was not of a kind that a dishonest man would carry, he told his allies, the Prussians, that I was a Frenchman, and that he would detain me as his prisoner."
"And was your detention hard?" asked Abatucci, while Pichegru regarded his guest with a scrutiny that showed he was rather inclined to share the Prussian general's opinion.
"Not at all," replied citizen Fenouillot; "the Prince and his son liked my wine, and they treated me with a consideration almost equal to that which you have shown me, although I must confess that when the news of the capitulation of Toulon arrived, yesterday, and I, as a good Frenchman, could not conceal my delight, the Prince, with whom I was talking at the time, dismissed me in a very bad humor."
"Ah, ha!" exclaimed Pichegru; "then Toulon has really been recaptured from the English?"
"Yes, general."
"What day was Toulon taken?"
"The 19th."
"And to-day is the 21st. Impossible! The devil! the Prince de Condé has not the telegraph at his disposal."
"No," replied the other; "but he has the pigeon-post, and carrier-pigeons travel forty-eight miles an hour. In short, the news came to Strasbourg, where pigeons abound, and I myself saw the little note in the Prince's hands. The note was small, having been fastened under the bird's wing, but the writing was fine, and therefore it contained several details."
"And do you know what they were?"
"The city capitulated on the 19th. That same day part of the besieging army entered, and, in the evening, by order of the commissioner of the Convention, two hundred and thirteen persons were shot."
"Is that all? Did it not mention a certain Buonaparte?"
"Yes, indeed; it said that the capture of the city was due to him."
"He is certainly my cousin," said Abatucci, laughing.
"And my pupil," added Pichegru. "Faith, so much the better! The Republic needs men of genius to offset such wretches as Fouché."
"Fouché?"
"Was it not Fouché who followed the French army to Lyons, and on the first day he was in power ordered two hundred and thirteen men shot?"
"Ah, yes; but that was at Lyons. At Toulon it is citizen Barras."
"And who is citizen Barras?"
"Only a deputy from the Var, who has served in India,and learned there to imitate the habits of the Nabobs. At the Convention he sits with the Mountain. At all events; it looks as if they were going to shoot all the population, and raze the town."
"Let them destroy and shoot! The sooner they do it, the quicker they will get through," said Pichegru. "Faith! I prefer our former good God to the modern Supreme Being who permits such horrors."
"And what do they say of my cousin Buonaparte?"
"They say that he is a young artillery officer," continued citizen Fenouillot, "and a friend of young Robespierre."
"Come, general," said Abatucci, "if he is on such good terms with the Jacobins as that, he will make his way and protect us in the bargain."
"Speaking of protection," said citizen Fenouillot, "is what the Duc de Bourbon told me when he was eulogizing you true?"
"Very kind of the Duc de Bourbon," said Pichegru, laughing. "What did he tell you?"
"That it was his father, the Prince de Condé, to whom you owed your first promotion."
"Yes," replied Pichegru.
"How was that?" asked three or four voices.
"I was serving as a common soldier in the royal artillery, when one day the Prince de Condé, who was present at the battery exercises at Besançon, came over to the gun which he considered the best managed; but while the gunner was sponging the piece it went off and shot away his arm. The prince attributed this accident to me, accusing me of not having properly closed the orifice with my thumb. I let him talk, and my only reply was to show him my bleeding hand. My thumb was turned back, and almost torn from the hand. Here," he continued, holding out his hand; "here is the scar. The prince forthwith promoted me to the rank of sergeant."
Little Charles, who was near the general, took his handas if he wanted to examine it, and with a sudden movement stooped and kissed it.
"Why, what are you doing?" asked Pichegru, pulling his hand away quickly.
"I? Nothing," said Charles. "I admire you."
Just then the door opened, and the chasseur Falou appeared, led by two of his comrades.
"Your pardon, captain," said one of the soldiers to Abatucci; "but you said you wanted to see him, did you not?"
"Of course I want to see him."
"There, is it true?" asked the soldier.
"It must be so, as the captain says it is."
"Just imagine, he did not want to come; we had to drag him here by main force."
"Why didn't you want to come?" asked Abatucci.
"Oh! I thought it was just to say silly things to me."
"What do you mean?"
"See here, general; I will make you the judge."
"I am listening to you, Falou."
"Why, you know my name!" Then, turning to his comrades, he cried, "Say, the general knows my name."
"I have said that I am listening to you; what is it you wish to say?" asked the general.
"Well, general, this is how it happened; we were charging, weren't we?'
"Yes."
"My horse shied to avoid stepping on a wounded man—you know those animals are so intelligent."
"Yes, I know."
"And mine especially. I found myself face to face with one of those emigrated nobles. Ah! he was a fine youngfellow, not more than twenty-two at the most. When he aimed a blow at my head I had to defend myself—"
"Certainly."
"And to return the blow; there was no other way, was there?"
"No, of course not."
"One doesn't need to be a provost to know that! He fell. He had swallowed more than six inches of steel."
"That was certainly more than he needed."
"Yes, general," said Falou, laughing at the joke he had in mind to say, "but one can't always stop to measure."
"I was not blaming you, Falou."
"Well, then, he fell, and there was a magnificent horse without a rider. I took him by the bridle, and just then I saw the captain, who had no horse at all, and so I said to myself: 'This horse belongs to the captain.' I put spurs to him, and he struggled like the devil in holy water in the midst of five or six aristocrats. I killed one and wounded another. 'Come, captain!' I called out to him, 'put your foot in the stirrup.' When his foot was in the stirrup it did not take him long to mount, and that's all there is to it."
"No, that is not all; for you cannot make me a present of a horse."
"Why can't I make you a present of a horse? Are you too proud to take it from me?"
"No; and to prove it, my brave fellow, will you do me the honor to put your hand there."
"The honor will be mine, captain," said Falou, advancing toward Abatucci.
The officer and the soldier clasped hands.
"Now I am paid, and I even owe you something; but no money, captain," said Falou.
"Very well; you have exposed your life for me, and—"
"Exposed my life for you?" cried Falou. "I defended it, that was all. Would you like to see how the aristocrat went? Here!"
Falou drew out his sword and showed the blade, of which an inch and a half was broken off.
"You can see that my hand was not weak; but we are well cared for, captain, and I shall get another sword. But sell you a horse—I, Falou? Never! Never!"
And Falou had already reached the door, when the general spoke to him.
"Come here, my brave fellow."
Falou turned around, trembling with emotion, and saluted.
"You are a Franc-Comtois?"
"A little, general."
"From what part?"
"Boussière."
"Are your parents still living?"
"I have an old mother. Can I call that parents?"
"Yes. And what does your old mother do?"
"Oh! poor dear woman, she knits my socks and spins my shirts."
"And how does she support herself?"
"With what I send her. But as the Republic is in debt, and my pay is five months in arrears, she cannot be getting along very well. But, thanks to the Prince de Condé's treasure wagon, we shall be paid up. Noble prince, how my mother will bless him!"
"What, your mother will bless an enemy of France?"
"How will she know the difference? The good God will know that she is in her dotage."
"Then you are going to send her your pay?"
"Oh! I shall keep a bit for a drop of wine."
"Keep it all."
"And the old woman?"
"I will take care of her."
"General," said Falou, shaking his head, "I don't understand."
"Let me see your sword."
Falou unbuckled his sword and handed it to the general.
"Oh!" said Falou, "it's in a sorry condition."
"In other words," said the general, drawing his from its scabbard, "it is not fit for use. Take mine." And Pichegru, unbuckling his own sword, gave it to him.
"But, general, what shall I do with your sword?"
"You will defend yourself, and return blow for blow."
"I should never dare to use it."
"Then you will let it be taken from you."
"I! I will defend it with my life." Then, putting the hilt of the sword to his lips, he kissed it.
"That will do. When the sword of honor that I have sent for comes, you can return me this one."
"Oh!" said Falou, "if it is all the same to you, general, I would rather keep this one."
"Well, then, keep it, animal; and do not put on so many airs."
"Oh! comrades!" cried Falou, darting out of the room, "the general called me animal, and gave me his sword! Long live the Republic!"
"Very fine," said a voice in the corridor; "but that is no reason for overturning your friends, particularly when they come as ambassadors to the general."
"What is the meaning of that?" said Pichegru. "Go see, Charles, and receive these ambassadors."
Charles, delighted to have an active share in the proceedings, darted to the door, and returned in a moment, saying: "General, they are delegates from the regiment of the Indre, who have come in the name of their comrades, with Corporal Faraud at their head."
"Who is Corporal Faraud?"
"The man of the wolves last night."
"But last night he was a common soldier."
"And now, general, he is a corporal; to be sure his stripes are made of paper."
"Paper stripes?" said the general, frowning.
"Oh! I don't know," said Charles.
"Admit the citizen delegates of the regiment of the Indre."
Two soldiers entered behind Faraud, who proudly displayed the paper stripes on his sleeves.
"What does this mean?" asked Pichegru.
"General," replied Faraud, carrying his hand to his cap, "we are delegates from the regiment of the Indre."
"Ah, yes," said Pichegru, "who have come to thank me for the favor I have just done them."
"On the contrary, general, we have come to refuse."
"To refuse? and why?" asked Pichegru.
"Confound it, general," said Faraud, with a twist of the neck peculiar to himself, "they say they fight for the glory of the Republic, for the preservation of the rights of man, and for nothing else. As for what they have done, they say it is no more than what their comrades have done, and they deserve no greater reward than the others. They have heard that they have only to go to citizen Estève to receive their back pay. If this incredible news is true, then that is all they want." And Faraud ended with the same peculiar twist of the neck by means of which he expressed all his emotions, whether sad or gay.
"Then they refuse?" asked Pichegru.
"Flatly," replied Faraud.
"And the dead," asked Pichegru; "do they refuse?"
"Who?"
"The dead."
"They have not been consulted, general."
"Then you may say to your comrades that I never take back what I have once given; the bounty money that I gave to the living will be distributed among the fathers and mothers, the brothers and sisters, the sons and daughters of the dead. Have you any objections to make to that?"
"None, general."
"That is fortunate. And now come here."
"I, general?" asked Faraud with a twist of the neck.
"Yes, you."
"Here I am, general."
"What are those sardines there?" asked Pichegru.
"Those are my corporal's stripes."
"Why paper?"
"Because we had no woollen stuff."
"Who made you a corporal?"
"My captain."
"What is your captain's name?"
"René Savary."
"I know him; he is a lad of nineteen or twenty."
"But who can strike hard just the same, general."
"Why did he make you a corporal?"
"You know well enough," said Faraud, with his customary gesture.
"Why no, I do not."
"You told me to make two prisoners."
"Well?"
"I made them; two Prussians."
"Is that true?"
"You can read it on my stripes"; and he raised his arm so that Pichegru could read the two lines of writing on them. He read:
Fusileer Faraud, of the Second Battalion of the Indre, has taken two Prussians prisoner; by reason of which I have appointed him corporal, subject to the approval of the commander-in-chief.René Savary.
Fusileer Faraud, of the Second Battalion of the Indre, has taken two Prussians prisoner; by reason of which I have appointed him corporal, subject to the approval of the commander-in-chief.
René Savary.
"I really took three prisoners," said Faraud, coming closer to the general.
"Where is the third?"
"The third was a fine young man, an aristocrat. You would have had to shoot him, which would have pained you, or to spare him, which would have compromised you."
"Well? and so—"
"And so, I let him—I let him go; there!"
"Good," said Pichegru, with tears in his eyes, "I make you a sergeant."
The chasseur Falou and the corporal Faraud have not, I hope, made you forget the citizen Fenouillot, commercial traveller for the house of Fraissinet at Châlons, nor the six bottles of champagne which he in his gratitude offered to Pichegru.
There was still one of these bottles to empty when the general returned to his place at table. Citizen Fenouillot opened it, or rather tried to do so, but in so unskilful a manner that Pichegru smiled and took the bottle from his hand; then cutting the cords, he opened the wires with the thumb of his left hand, which had retained all its strength.
"Come, citizen," said he, "a last glass to the prosperity of the arms of the Republic."
The commercial traveller raised his glass higher than any of the others.
"And," he added, "may the general finish gloriously what he has already gloriously begun."
All the officers joined noisily in the proposed toast.
"And now," said Pichegru, "as I agree with the toast which the citizen has just proposed, we have not an instant to lose. To-day's fight is but the prelude to two more serious battles; for we must win two more in order to regain the lines of Weissembourg, which were lost by my predecessor. The day after to-morrow we will attack Froeschwiller; in four days the line, in five we shall be at Weissembourg, and in six we shall have relieved Landau." Then, addressing Macdonald, he said: "My dear colonel, you are, as you know, my right hand. I intrust to you the duty of visiting all the posts, and of telling each corps which one it is to occupy. You are to command the left wing, and Abatucci the right; I will be in the centre. Seethat the soldiers want for nothing. No superfluities, but they must have a little more than the necessaries." Then he said to the other officers: "You all know the regiments under your command, citizens; you know those on whom you can depend. Call their officers together and tell them that I am writing to-day to the Committee of Public Safety that we shall sleep at Froeschwiller the day after to-morrow. Also that in eight days at the latest we shall be at Landau; and let them remember one thing, that if that promise is broken, my head will pay the forfeit."
The officers rose, and, buckling on their swords, they prepared to leave the room to execute the orders they had received.
"As for you, Charles," continued Pichegru, "go into the room which has been made ready for us, and see if the mattresses are in their proper places. You will find on a chair a little package addressed to you; open it, and, if the contents pleases you, use it at once, for it belongs to you. If you feel any pain from the concussion you have received, tell me of it, and not the surgeon."
"Thanks, general," answered Charles; "but I do not need any other compresses there than the one which stopped the bullet. As for the bullet itself," continued the boy, taking it from his pocket, "I shall keep it to give to my father."
"And you can roll it in the certificate that I shall write for you. And now, my boy, go."
Charles went out. Pichegru glanced at citizen Fenouillot, who was still sitting in his place, went to the doors that gave access to the dining-room, bolted them, and then returned to his place opposite his guest, who had watched his movements with the utmost astonishment.
"There," said he, "now we are alone, citizen."
"Alone, general?" asked the commercial traveller.
"Let us play above-board."
"I ask nothing better."
"Your name is not Fenouillot, you are not related tothe lawyer at Besançon, you were not the Prince de Condé's prisoner, you are his agent."
"That is true, general."
"And you remained by his order to make me some proposals from the royalists at the risk of being shot."
"That is also true."
"But you said to yourself, 'General Pichegru is brave and he will understand that it requires a certain degree of courage to do what I am doing; perhaps he will not shoot me, though he may refuse; and then he will send me back to the prince with his refusal.'"
"That is also true; but I hope that after having heard me—"
"After having heard you there is just one case in which I shall have you shot; of that I warn you."
"What is that?"
"If you should put a price on my treason."
"Or your devotion."
"We will not discuss the words, but the thing. Are you disposed to answer all my questions?"
"I am, general."
"I am going to cross-examine you, I warn you."
"Go on."
Pichegru drew his pistols from his belt and laid one on either side of his plate.
"General," said the pretended clerk, laughing, "I hope those are not your cards that you are laying on the table."
"Have the goodness to put my pistols on the mantel-shelf, since you are nearer to it than I am," replied Pichegru, "they are not comfortable in my belt." And he pushed his pistols within the other's reach, who carried them to the mantel-shelf and returned to his seat.
Pichegru bowed slightly and the other did the same.
"Now," said Pichegru, "let us begin."
"I am waiting."
"What is your name?"
"Fauche-Borel."
"Where do you come from?"
"Neuchâtel. Only my name might have been Fenouillot, and I might have come from Besançon, since I belong to a Franche-Comté family which did not leave until after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes."
"In that case I should have recognized you for a fellow-countryman by the accent."
"Excuse me, general, but how did you know that I was not a commercial traveller for champagne."
"By the way you opened the bottles. Citizen, another time choose another character."
"What one, for instance?"
"A bookseller."
"You know me, then?"
"I have heard of you."
"In what way?"
"As an uncompromising enemy of the Republic, and the author of royalist pamphlets. Excuse me if I continue to question you."
"Continue, general; I am at your service."
"How did you become an agent for the Prince de Condé."
"My name first attracted the attention of the Regent[3]in a royalist pamphlet of M. d'Antragues, entitled 'Memoirs of the Regency of Louis Stanislas Xavier, son of France, uncle of the King, and Regent of France.' He noticed it a second time when I induced the inhabitants of Neuchâtel to sign the Act of Union."