Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXVI. THE TWO VISITS.

  Amid all the stirring duties of the next day, amid all the excitementof a new position, my mind recurred continually to the events ofthe previous twenty-four hours: now dwelling on the soiree at thePalace,--the unaccustomed splendor, the rank, the beauty I hadwitnessed; now on that eventful moment I spent behind the screen; thenon my strange rencontre with my antagonist, and that still strangersupper that followed it.

  It was not, indeed, without certain misgivings, which I could neitheraccount for nor dismiss from my mind, that I reflected on the characterand conversation of my new associates. The tone of levity in whichthey dared to speak of him whose name was to me something bordering onidolatry,--the liberty with which they ventured to canvass his measuresand his opinions, even to ridiculing them,--were so many puzzles tomy mind; and I half reproached myself for having tamely listened tolanguage which now, as I thought over it, seemed to demand my notice.Totally ignorant of all political intrigue,--unconscious that any partydid or could exist in France save that of the First Consul himself,--Icould find no solution to the enigma, and at last began to think that Ihad been exaggerating to myself the words I had heard, and permitting myignorance to weigh with me, where with more knowledge I should have seennothing reprehensible. And if the spirit in which they discussed theacts of Bonaparte differed from what I had been accustomed to, might itnot rather proceed from my own want of acquaintance with the usages ofsociety, than any deficiency in attachment on their sides? The prefetwas, of course, as an officer of the Government, no mean judge of whatbecame him; the abbe, too, as a man of education and in holy orders, wasequally unlikely to express unbecoming opinions; the Russian scarcelyspoke at all; and as for De Beauvais, his careless and headlongimpetuosity made me feel easy on his score. And so I reasoned myselfinto the conviction that it was only the ordinary bearing and everydayhabit of society to speak thus openly of one who in the narrower limitsof our little world was deemed something to worship.

  Shall I own what then I could scarcely have confessed to myself, thatthe few words De Beauvais spoke at parting,--the avowed cousinshipwith her they called "La Rose de Provence,"--did much to induce thisconviction on my mind? while his promise to present me was a pledge Icould not possibly believe consistent with any but right loyal thoughtsand honest doctrines. Still, I would have given anything for one friendto advise with,--one faithful counsellor to aid me. But again was Ialone in the world; and save the short and not over-flattering receptionof my colonel, I had neither seen nor spoken to one of my new corps.

  That evening I joined my regiment, and took up my quarters in thebarracks, where already the rumor of important political events hadreached the officers, and they stood in groups discussing the chances ofa war, or listening to the "Moniteur," which was read out by one ofthe party. What a strange thrill it sent through me to think that I wasprivy to the deepest secret of that important step on which the peace ofEurope was resting,--that I had heard the very words as they fell fromthe lips of him on whom the destiny of millions then depended! With whata different interpretation to me came those passages in the Governmentjournal which breathed of peace, and spoke of painful sacrifices toavoid a war, for which already his very soul was thirsting! and how tomy young heart did that passion for glory exalt him who could throw allinto the scale! The proud position he occupied,--the mighty chief ofa mighty nation; the adulation in which he daily lived; the gorgeoussplendor of a Court no country in Europe equalled,--all these (and more,his future destiny) did lie set upon the cast for the great game hismanly spirit gloried in.

  In such thoughts as these I lived as in a world of my own. CompanionshipI had none; my brother officers, with few exceptions, had risen from theranks, and were of that class which felt no pleasure save in the coarseamusements of the barrack-room or the vulgar jests of the service. Thebetter classes lived studiously apart from these, and made no approachesto intimacy with any newly joined officer with whose family andconnections they were unacquainted; and I, from my change of country,stood thus alone, unacknowledged and unknown. At first this isolationpained and grieved me, but gradually it became less irksome; and whenat length they who had at first avoided and shunned my intimacy showedthemselves disposed to know me, my pride, which before would have beengratified by such an acknowledgment, was now wounded, and I coollydeclined their advances.

  Some weeks passed in this manner, during which I never saw or heardof De Beauvais, and at length began to feel somewhat offended at thesuddenness with which he seemed to drop an intimacy begun at his owndesire; when one evening, as I had returned to my barrack-room afterparade, I heard a knock at my door. I rose and opened it, when, to mysurprise, I beheld De Beauvais before me. He was much thinner than whenI last saw him, and his dress and appearance all betokened far less ofcare and attention.

  "Are these your quarters?" said he, entering and throwing a cautiouslook about. "Are you alone here?"

  "Yes," said I; "perfectly."

  "You expect no one?"

  "Not any," said I, again, still more surprised at the agitation of hismanner, and the evident degree of anxiety he labored under.

  "Thank Heaven!" said he, drawing a deep sigh as he threw himself on mylittle camp-bed, and covered his face with his hands.

  Seeing that something weighed heavily on him, I half feared to interferewith the current of his thoughts, and merely drew my chair and sat downbeside him.

  "I say, Burke, mon cher, have you any wine? Let me have a glass ortwo, for save some galette, and that not the best either, I have tastednothing these last twenty-four hours."

  I soon set before him the contents of my humble larder, and in a fewmoments he rallied a good deal, and looking up with a smile said,--

  "I think you have been cultivating your education as gourmand since Isaw you; that pasty is worthy our friend in the Palais Royal. Well, andhow have you been since we met?"

  "Let me rather ask yow," said I, "You are not looking so well as thelast time I saw you. Have you been ill?"

  "Ill! no, not ill. Yet I can't say so; for I have suffered a good deal,too. No, my friend; I have had much to harass and distress me. Ihave been travelling, too, long distances and weary ones,--met somedisappointments; and altogether the world has not gone so well with meas I think it ought. And now of you,--what of yourself?"

  "Alas!" said I, "if you have met much to annoy, I have only lived a dulllife of daily monotony. If it has had little to distress, there is fullyas little to cheer; and I half suspect the fine illusions I used topicture to myself of a soldier's career had very little connection withreality."

  As De Beauvais seemed to listen with more attention than such a themewould naturally call for, I gradually was drawn into a picture of mybarrack life, in which I dwelt at length on my own solitary position,and the want of that companionship which formed the chief charm of myschoolboy life. To all this he paid a marked attention,--now questioningme on some unexplained point; now agreeing with me in what I said by aword or a gesture.

  "And do you know, Burke," said he, interrupting me in my descriptionof those whose early coldness of manner had chilled my firstadvances,--"and do you know," said he, impetuously, "who thesearistocrats are? The sons of honest _bourgeois_ of Paris. Their fathersare worthy men of the Rue Vivienne or the Palais,--excellent people,I 've no doubt, but very far better judges of point lace and pate, dePerigord than disputed precedence and armorial quarterings. Far betterthe others,--the humble soldiers of fortune, whose highest pride istheir own daring, their own undaunted heroism. Well, well," added he,after a pause, "I must get you away from this; I can manage it in a dayor two. You shall be sent down to Versailles with a detachment."

  I could not help starting with surprise at these words, and through allthe pleasure they gave me my astonishment was still predominant.

  "I see you are amazed at what I say; but it is not so wonderful as youthink. My cousin has only to hint to Madame Bonaparte, who is at presentthere, and the thing is done."

&n
bsp; I blushed deeply as I thought of the agency through which my wishes wereto meet accomplishment, and turned away to hide my embarrassment.

  "By the bye, I have not presented you to her yet. I 've had noopportunity; but now I shall do so at once."

  "Pray, tell me your cousin's name," said I, anxious to say anything toconceal my confusion. "I 've only heard her name called 'La Rose deProvence.'"

  "Yes, that was a silly fancy of Madame la Consulesse, because Marie isProvengale, But her name is De Rochfort,--at least her mother's name;for, by another caprice, she was forbidden by Bonaparte to bear herfather's name. But this is rather a sore topic with me; let uschange it. How did you like my friends the other evening? The abb, isagreeable, is he not?"

  "Yes," said I, hesitating somewhat; "but I am so unaccustomed to hearGeneral Bonaparte discussed so freely--"

  "That absurd Polytechnique!" interrupted De Beauvais. "How many afine fellow has it spoiled with its ridiculous notions and foolishprejudices!"

  "Come, come," said I; "you must not call prejudices the attachment whichI, and all who wear an epaulette, feel in our glorious chief. There,there! don't laugh, or you 'll provoke me; for if I, an alien, feelthis, how should you, who are a Frenchman born, sympathize with such aproud career?"

  "If you talk of sympathy, Burke, let me ask you. Have you ever heardspeak of certain old families of these realms who have been drivenforth and expatriated to seek a home among strangers,--themselves thedescendants of the fairest chivalry of our land, the proud scions ofSaint Louis? and has your sympathy never strayed across sea to minglewith their sorrows?" His voice trembled as he spoke, and a large tearfilled his eye and tracked its way along his cheek, as the last wordvibrated on his tongue; and then, as if suddenly remembering how farhe had been carried away by momentary impulse, he added, in an alteredvoice, "But what have we to do with these things? Our road is yet to betravelled by either of us,--yours a fair path enough, if it only fulfilits early promise. The fortunate fellow that can win his grade while yeta schoolboy--"

  "How came you to know--"

  "Oh! I know more than that, Burke; and, believe me, if my foolishconduct the first day we met had led to anything disastrous, I shouldhave passed a life of sorrow for it ever after. But we shall have timeenough to talk over all these matters in the green alleys of Versailles,where I hope to see you before a week be over. Great events may happenere long, too. Burke, you don't know it; but I can tell you, a war withEngland is at this moment on the eve of declaration."

  "Perhaps," said I, somewhat piqued by the tone of superiority in whichhe had spoken for some minutes, and anxious to assume for myself aposition which, I forgot, conferred no credit by the manner of itsattainment, "I know more of that than you are aware of."

  "Oh," replied he, carelessly, "the gossip of a mess is but little to berelied on. The sabreurs will always tell you that the order to march isgiven."

  "I don't mean that," said I, haughtily. "My information has a highersource, the highest of all,--Greneral Bonaparte himself!"

  "How! what! Bonaparte himself!"

  "Listen to me," said I; and hurried on by a foolish vanity, and astrange desire I cannot explain to make a confidant in what I felt tobe a secret too weighty for my own bosom, I told him all that I hadoverheard when seated behind the screen in the salon at the Tuileries.

  "You heard this,--you, yourself?" cried he, as his eyes flashed, and hegrasped my arm with an eager grip.

  "Yes, with my own ears I heard it," said I, half trembling at thedisclosure I made, and ready to give all I possessed to recall my words.

  "My friend, my dear friend," said he, impetuously, "you must hesitate nolonger; be one of us."

  I started at the words, and growing pale with agitation as the verythought of the importance of what I had related flashed across me, Istammered out, "Take care what you propose to me, De Beauvais. I do not,I cannot, fathom your meaning now; but if I thought that anything liketreachery to the First Consul--that anything traitorous to the greatcause of liberty for which he has fought and conquered--was meditated, I'd go forthwith and tell him, word for word, all I have spoken now, eventhough the confession might, as it would, humble me forever, and destroyall my future hope of advancement."

  "And be well laughed at for your pains, foolish boy!" said he, throwinghimself back in his chair, and bursting out into a fit of laughter. "No,no, Burke; you must not do anything half so ridiculous, or my prettycousin could never look at you without a smile ever after. And _apropos_, of that, when shall I present you? That splendid jacket, andall that finery of dolman there, will make sad work of her poor heart."

  I blushed deeply at the silly impetuosity I had betrayed myself into,and muttered some equally silly apology for it. Still, young as I was, Icould perceive that my words made no common impression on him, and wouldhave given my best blood to recall them.

  "Do you know, De Beauvais," said I, affecting as much of coolness as Icould, "do you know, I half regret having told you this. The mannerin which I heard this conversation--though, as you will see, quiteinvoluntary on my part--should have prevented my ever having repeatedit; and now the only reparation I can make is to wait on my colonel,explain the whole circumstance, and ask his advice."

  "In plain words, to make public what at present is only confided to afriend. Well, you think the phrase too strong for one you have seen buttwice,--the first time not exactly on terms such as warrant the phrase.But come, if you can't trust me, I 'll see if I can't trust you."

  He drew at these words a roll of paper from his pocket, and wasproceeding to open it on the table when a violent knocking was heard atmy door.

  "What 's that? who can it be?" said he, starting up, and growing pale asdeath.

  The look of terror in his face appalled me; and I stood, not able toreply, or even move towards the door, when the knocking was repeatedmuch louder, and I heard my name called out. Pointing to a closet whichled from the room, and without speaking a word, I walked forward andunlocked the door. A tall man, wrapped in a blue cloak, and wearinga cocked hat covered with oilskin, stood before me, accompanied by asergeant of my troop.

  "This is the sous-lieutenant, sir," said the sergeant, touching his cap.

  "That will do," replied the other; "you may leave us now." Then turningto me he added, "May I have the favor of a few minutes' conversationwith you, Mr. Burke? I am Monsieur Gisquet, chef de police of thedepartment."

  A trembling ran through me at the words, and I stammered out somethingscarce audible in reply. Monsieur Gisquet followed me as I led theway into my room, which already had been deserted by De Beauvais; andcasting a quick glance around, he leisurely took off his hat and cloakand drew a chair towards the table.

  "Are we alone, sir?" said he, in a measured tone of voice, while his eyefell with a peculiar meaning on a chair which stood opposite to mine, onthe opposite side of the stove.

  "I had a friend with me when you knocked," I muttered, in a broken anduncertain accent; "but perhaps--"

  Before I could finish my sentence the door of the cabinet slowlyopened, and De Beauvais appeared, but so metamorphosed I could scarcelyrecognize him; for, short as the interval was, he had put on my olduniform of the Polytechnique, which, from our similarity in height,fitted him perfectly.

  "All safe, Tom," said he, stealing out, with an easy smile on hiscountenance. "Par Saint Denis! I thought it was old Legrange himselfcome to look for me. Ah, Monsieur, how d' ye do? You have given me arare fright tonight. I came to spend the day with my friend here, and,as ill luck would have it, have outstayed my time. The _ecole_ closes atnine, so that I 'm in for a week's arrest at least."

  "A cool confession this, sir, to a minister of police!" said Gisquet,sternly, while his dark eyes surveyed the speaker from head to foot.

  "Not when that minister is called Gisquet," said he, readily, and bowingcourteously as he spoke.

  "You know me, then?" said the other, still peering at him with a sharplook.

  "Only from your likene
ss to a little boy in my company," said he, "HenriGisquet. A fine little fellow he is, and one of the cleverest in theschool."

  "You are right, sir; he is my son," said the minister, as a pleasedsmile passed over his swarthy features. "Come, I think I must get yousafe through your dilemma. Take this; the officer of the night will besatisfied with the explanation, and Monsieur Legrange will not hear ofit."

  So saying, he seized a pen, and writing a few lines rapidly on a pieceof paper, he folded it note fashion, and handed it to De Beauvais.

  "A handsome ring, sir!" said he, suddenly, and holding the fingerswithin his own; "a very costly one, too."

  "Yes, sir," said De Beauvais, blushing scarlet. "A cousin of mine--"

  "Ha, ha! an amourette, too. Well, well, young gentleman! no need offurther confessions; lose no more time here. Bonsoir."

  "Adieu, Burke," said De Beauvais, shaking my hand with a peculiarpressure.

  "Adieu, Monsieur Gisquet. This order will pass me through the barrack,won't it?"

  "Yes; to be sure. You need fear no interference with my people either,go where you will this evening."

  "Thanks, sir, once more," said he, and departed.

  "Now for our business, Mr. Burke," said the minister, opening his packetof papers before him, and commencing to con over its contents. "I shallask you a few questions, to which you will please to reply with all theaccuracy you can command, remembering that you are liable to be calledon to verify any statement hereafter on oath. With whom did you speak onthe evening of the 2d of May, at the soiree of Madame Bonaparte?"

  "I scarcely remember if I spoke to any one save Madame herself. Astrange gentleman, whose name I forget, presented me; one or two others,also unknown to me, may have spoken a passing word or so; and whencoming away I met Monsieur de Beauvais."

  "Monsieur de Beauvais! who is he?"

  "_Ma foi_ I can't tell you. I saw him the day before for the first time;we renewed our acquaintance, and we supped together."

  "At Beauvilliers's?" said he, interrupting.

  "Pardieu, Monsieur!" said I, somewhat stung at the espionage on mymovements; "you seem to know everything so well already, it is quiteneedless to interrogate me any further."

  "Perhaps not," replied he, coolly. "I wish to have the names of theparty you supped with."

  "Well, there was one who was called the prefet, a large, full, elderlyman."

  "Yes, yes, I know him," interrupted Gisquet again. "And the others?"

  "There was an abbe, and a secretary of the Russian mission."

  "No other?" said he, in a tone of disappointment.

  "No one, save De Beauvais and myself; we were but five in all."

  "Did no one come in daring the evening?

  "No, not any."

  "Nor did any leave the party?"

  "No; we separated at the same moment."

  "Who accompanied you to the barracks?"

  "No one; I returned alone."

  "And this Monsieur de Beauvais,--you can't tell anything of him? Whatage is he? what height?"

  "About my own," said I, blushing deeply at the thought of the eventsof a few moments back. "He may be somewhat older, but he looks not muchmore than twenty-one or two."

  "Have you mentioned any of these circumstances to any of your brotherofficers or to your colonel?"

  "No, sir, never."

  "Very right, sir. These are times in which discretion is of no commonimportance. I have only to recommend similar circumspection in future.It is probable that some of these gentlemen may visit you and writeto you; they may invite you to sup or to dine. If so, sir, accept theinvitation. Be cautious, however, not to speak of this interview to anyone. Remember, sir, I am the messenger of one who never forgave a breachof trust, but who also never fails to reward loyalty and attachment. Ifyou be but prudent, Mr. Burke, your fortune is certain."

  With these words. Monsieur Gisquet threw his cloak over his shoulder,and raising his hat, he bowed formally to me and withdrew; leaving me tomeditations which, I need not say, were none of the happiest.

  If my fears were excited by the thought of the acquaintances I had sorashly formed, so also was my pride insulted by the system of watchingto which my movements had been subjected; and deeper still, by theinsulting nature of the proposal the minister of police had not scrupledto make to me,--on reflecting over which, only, did I perceive how baseand dishonorable it was.

  "What!" asked I of myself, "is it a spy--is it a false underhandbetrayer of the men into whose society I have been admitted on terms offriendly intercourse--he would make of me? What saw he in me or in myactions to dare so far? Was not the very cloth I wear enough to guard meagainst such an insult?" Then came the maddening reflection, "Why hadI not thought of this sooner? Why had I not rejected his proposal withscorn, and told him that I was not of the stuff he looked for?"

  But what is it that he wished to learn? and who were these men, and whatwere their designs? These were questions' that flashed across me; and Itrembled to think how deeply implicated I might become at any moment inplans of which I knew nothing, merely from the imprudence with which Ihad made their acquaintance. The escape of De Beauvais, if discovered,would also inevitably involve me; and thus did I seem hurried along by atrain of incidents without will or concurrence, each step but increasingthe darkness around me.

  That Gisquet knew most of the party was clear; De Beauvais alone seemedpersonally unknown to him. What, then, did he want of me? Alas! it was atangled web I could make nothing of: and all I could resolve on was, toavoid in future all renewal of intimacy with De Beauvais; to observe thegreatest circumspection with regard to all new acquaintance; and sincethe police thought it worth their while to set spies upon my track, tolimit any excursions, for some time at least, to the routine of my dutyand the bounds of the barrack-yard. These were wise resolutions, andif somewhat late in coming, yet not without their comfort; above all,because, in my heart, I felt no misgivings of affection, no lack ofloyalty, to him who was still my idol.

  "Well, well," thought I, "something may come of this,--perhaps a war. Ifso, happy shall I be to leave Paris and all its intrigues behind me,and seek distinction in a more congenial sphere, and under other bannersthan a police minister would afford me."

  With thoughts like these I fell asleep, to dream over all the eventsof the preceding day, and wake the next morning with an aching head andconfused brain,--my only clear impression being that some danger hungover me; but from what quarter, and how or in what way it was to be metor averted, I could not guess.

  The whole day I felt a feverish dread lest De Beauvais should appear.Something whispered me that my difficulties were to come of myacquaintance with him; and I studiously passed my time among my brotherofficers, knowing that, so long as I remained among them, he wasnot likely to visit me. And when evening came, I gladly accepted aninvitation to a barrack-room supper, which, but the night before, Ishould have declined without hesitation.

  This compliance on my part seemed well taken by my companions; and intheir frank and cordial reception of me, I felt a degree of reproachto myself for my having hitherto lived estranged from them. We had justtaken our places at table, when the door was flung wide open, and ayoung captain of the regiment rushed in, waving a paper over his head,as he called out,--

  "Good news, mes braves, glorious news for you! Listen to this: TheEnglish ambassador has demanded his passports, and left Paris. Expressesare sent off to the fourth corps to move towards the coast; twelveregiments have received orders to march; so that before my Lord leavesCalais, he may witness a review of the army. '"

  "Is this true?"

  "It is all certain. Read it; here 's the 'Moniteur,' with the officialannouncement."

  In an instant a dozen heads were bent over the paper, each eager to scanthe paragraph so long and ardently desired.

  "Come, Burke, I hope you have not forgotten your English," said themajor. "We shall want you soon to interpret for us in London; if,pardieu, we can ever find our way through
the fogs of that ill-starredisland."

  I hung my head without speaking; the miserable isolation of him who hasno country is a sad and sickening sense of want no momentary enthusiasm,no impulse of high daring can make up for. Happily for me, all weretoo deeply interested in the important news to remark me, or pay anyattention to my feelings.