CHAPTER VI
AN OLD MAN MASTERFUL
Deventer and I came upon Rhoda Polly while we were getting our breathafter the rush upstairs. We were old friends, and Rhoda Polly did noteven put aside her rifle to greet us.
"Come from school without leave--run away--good!" she exclaimed. "Haveyou made it all right with father?"
"Not yet--that is--the fact is---we thought you might as well come alongwith us, Rhoda Polly."
"You think there will be a storm, Hugh?"
"Sure of it, but at least you can tell the Pater that Cawdor here is noprodigal. He comes with his father's blessing and a whole pile of papermoney."
"Father is among his entrenchments on the roof," said the girl; "betterwait till he comes down. He is never quite himself when he is up thereand the wind is blowing. Now tell me what made you run away?"
"We are going to enlist among Garibaldi's volunteers, and fight forFrance--at least that's what Cawdor says. But I mean to stay here tillall is safe for mother and you."
At this moment Rhoda Polly nudged us. There was a sound of heavy decidedfootsteps grating on the steel ladder which led to the roof, then athump and the noise of feet stamping on the floor above us.
"He has been lying behind the chimney till he is stiff," whispered RhodaPolly. "Give him time to limber himself."
For a minute all was quiet along the Potomac, and then a mighty voicewas heard demanding "those two young rascals."
Deventer's smile was somewhat forced, and it might only have been themoonlight, but he certainly looked both sick and white about the gills.I was not greatly affected, but then I had not had his discipline. Mycase and credit were clear. All the same, it was obvious that the DennisDeventer who captained his forces against the insurgents within thewalls of Chateau Schneider, and the seeker after knowledge who prowledabout my father's library or listened modestly to his interminableexpositions, were very different persons.
"Better not keep him waiting," said Rhoda Polly. "I will take you. Hehas a room for himself fitted up on the third floor."
At the opening of the door we saw a long table covered with guns andrevolvers, each ready to the hand, while behind the centre ran acontinuous mountain range of ammunition in packets of gay-colouredgreen, red, and yellow.
"What's all this, boys?" said Dennis Deventer gruffly, as soon as hecaught sight of us. "Now, you Rhoda Polly, hold your tongue! You are notput up to tell their story. Come--out with it. What is it?"
He thrust his hands through his crisping mane of hair with quick,nervous movements.
"Come, get it into word, Master Hugh Deventer. You were put to do yourduty at school. Why didn't you stay put?"
Hugh Deventer had a difficulty about articulation. He was bold and bravereally, besides being extraordinarily strong of body, but something inthe tones of his father's voice seemed to make all these qualities,which I had seen proved so often, of no use to him. I looked at RhodaPolly, and, to my amazement, even she appeared a little anxious. I beganvaguely to understand the difference among parents, and to realise thatwith a father of the calibre of the Old Man Masterful I might haveturned out a very different sort of son.
Finally Deventer managed to stammer out his account of the retreat ofthe troops and the hoisting of the Red Flag.
"I knew that they would be besieging you," he said, "so I came. I couldnot stop there doing mathematics, hearing the shots go off, and thinkingwhat might be happening to my mother and the girls!"
I could see in a moment that he had taken good ground with his father.The strong muscular hands were laid flat on the table, with a loud clapwhich made the pistols spring.
"You did pretty well in your examinations--they tell me?"
"Second--Cawdor was first. He coached me, or I should never have gotwithin smelling distance. As it was we halved the honours, and wereasked to dine with the _proviseur_ and professors when we got back."
"You look a perfect ox for strength. Let me see if you can lift thistable without disturbing anything."
Deventer smiled for the first time, and after trying about for a littletime so as to find the proper centre of gravity, he lifted the table,guns, ammunition and all, holding them with flexible arm on the level ofhis father's eyes. I think he was perfectly happy at that moment.
Old Dennis did not smile like his son. He only nodded, and said, "Yes,you may be useful. Can you shoot?"
"Fairly," Deventer admitted, "but not so well as Cawdor; and you shouldjust see him send the Frenchmen's foils twirling to the roof of thegymnasium. He has fought three duels, Pater, and won every time. Eventhe Frenchmen could not deny it!"
"Gilt-edged nonsense--duelling," old Dennis broke out, "though yourgrandfather was out a score of times in County Down in his day. But whatdo you do when the Frenchmen challenge you?"
"Oh," cried Hugh gleefully, "I just chase them or their seconds till Icatch them, and then I spank them till they agree that honour issatisfied. Generally by that time they are crying with rage, but thatdoes not matter. However, they mostly let me alone now."
"Well done, Hugh," said his father; "have something to eat, and thencome up and find me on the roof. We ought to have something lively toamuse you before the morning. By the way, Cawdor, what does your fathersay to all this?"
Deventer forestalled me, for he was anxious that I should say nothingabout the draught from the window or my father's sending me off.
"His father sent him along with his blessing, and eight hundred andfifty francs."
"Well," rapped out the old man with the mane of grey hair, "you can keepthe blessing, but I will take care of the money for you."
And with that he held out his hand. Quite instinctively I gave it tohim, without thinking what I was doing. Then, the next moment, Iregretted the act and strove to undo it. I remembered mutteringsomething about fighting for France and joining the levies of Garibaldi,when I should need all the money I could get.
But old Dennis calmly locked my banknotes away in his safe, and assuredme that I might 'list if I liked, but that it would be a downrightfool's trick to carry about so much money among a parcel of Italians. Hewould send it on to me as I wanted it--twenty francs at a time. I couldpick it up as I went, either at a bank, or from a correspondent of theSmall Arms firm.
Once left to ourselves, Rhoda Polly seemed to think that we had comerather well out of the scrape.
"But it was Cawdor being there that saved you," said Rhoda Polly."Father got so keen about Angus not spending his father's money, that heforgot about you. Now, you have only to run straight and do as you arebid----"
"Do you think I shall be able to go with Cawdor when this simmers down?I want to wear the red blouse as much as he does."
"As to that I don't know," said Rhoda Polly. "I don't believe he took itthat you wanted to go soldiering as well. He means to put you into theworks--fair field--no favour--up at five in the morning, breakfast in atin can--that sort of thing--and as for Garibaldi's red jackets, he willsell them guns, but I rather fancy he will keep his son at home."
"Well," said Deventer, "I shall be ready for the works all in good time,but if Cawdor goes off with Garibaldi, I go. I could not stay behind.Nor could even the Pater keep me. He would not chain me to a wall,and----"
"At any rate," broke in the watchful Rhoda Polly, "here you are now, andthe better you please the commander-in-chief the better chance therewill be for you afterwards when the time comes. I shall do what I canfor you, Hugh."
"Thanks, old girl," said Deventer. "Where are Hannah and Liz?"
"Where should they be but in bed, where, of course, I ought to be also.Only I have a dispensation to get what sleep I can in the daytime. I cansee in the dark better than anyone in the house. I saw them gatheringfor the attack under the shadow of the pines on Thursday night, an hourafter the moon had gone down. The Pater said it was a near shave, andspoke about my 'high-power vision' as if it were an attachment he hadhad fitted before I was born."
The defence of the Chateau was unde
rtaken by the entire English-speakingcolony of Aramon. The wives and children of the overseers and foremenwere lodged in the rooms looking on the inner quadrangle, but took theirmeals in the great hall floored with many-coloured marbles. Theirhusbands and the younger unmarried men looked in occasionally when theycould get off, ate what snacks stood handy on the sideboard anddisappeared.
It was their duty to keep a watch over the workshops of the Company, andon the roof of the stables were half a dozen mitrailleuses ready tosweep the open square which lay out flat as a billiard-board beneath thewindows of the Chateau Schneider, surrounded by workshops andstorehouses on every side.
But a far more dangerous task was the raid through the ateliersthemselves, which Dennis Deventer ordered to be made at irregularintervals.
"The divils would be breaking up the Company's machinery if I did notkeep all their little plans in the back of my head. And that's none soeasy, young Cawdor, for mark me this, 'tis easy to keep track of what aclever man will imagine to do. You have only to think what you would doyourself in his place. But you never know where ignorant stupid foolswill break out, and that's the danger of it, Angus me lad!"
"But," I said, "they cannot all be such fools, for with my own eyes Isaw them send the regular soldiers to the rightabout."
"The regular soldiers--raw levies mostly, I tell you," burst out oldDennis fiercely. "I should know, for I armed them man by man out of myown gun-sheds and rifle-racks. And I tell ye that beyond a fewinstruction sergeants from the artillery, there was divil a man amongthem who could point a chassepot or lay a piece. Our noisyrevolutionaries simply frightened them out of the town, and if it hadnot been for our little stock company here, the biggest manufacturingarsenal in France would have been in their hands. Even as it is theyhave found enough rifles to arm themselves, but so far we have saved themitrailleuses and the field artillery. The deputation which came fromMarseilles did not go away very much the richer."
"But what is it that they want, sir?" I asked.
Dennis Deventer looked at me straight between the eyes.
"They want what they ought to have, Angus me boy, and what they shouldhave, if I were not a servant of the Small Arms Company."
I was taken aback at his answer, though I had heard something like itfrom my father. But in his case I had taken it for mere poetry orphilosophy, and so thought no more about it. But a man like DennisDeventer, who was fighting these very insurgents--why, I tell you it wasa curious thing to listen to, and made me wonder if I had heard aright.The old man continued, his bold blue eyes looking straight over myshoulder as if he saw something beyond me.
"You ask me why in that case I am fighting men who are in the right?Right is right, and wrong is wrong, you say. But bide a moment, MasterAngus. I agree that these poor devils should have better wages, shorterhours, and a chance to lead the lives of human beings. I agree that atleast half of the net profits we make ought to go to the men who madeevery penny. The proportion would not be too large. I should be willingthat my own share should be cut down to help this along. But, also,Angus me lad, I know that murder and arson are not the best way for mento get their rights. General insurrection is still worse. They havetried to kill me, who am their best friend. That is nothing. It belongsto the business of manager. It is one of our risks. But they have alsotried to break the machinery and to set fire to the buildings. Theywould burn Aramon if they could--they are so ill-advised. And what for?Only to find themselves left stranded without work or wages.
"This is a flea-bite," he went on. "I defend the Chateau because of mywife and daughters. But the business began when the men saw the mastersflaunting their riches, entertaining the Emperor and Empress at the costof millions on the very day when processes were being served from doorto door of the rows of cottages belonging to the Company. A man may burnhis hand or hurt his foot, but he must by no means get behind with hisrent. If we had not laid a dozen firebrands by the heels withouttroubling the police, blood would have been shed in Aramon that day ofthe Imperial reception."
Dennis Deventer had spoken with such determination and cold anger, thatit took me with a new surprise to see him spring like a boy up the steelladder on to the roof in answer to some call unheard by me.
Rhoda Polly followed, and Hugh and I did not stay behind. Rhoda Pollygave us both a hand.
"Mind your feet," she whispered, "there are all sorts of thingsscattered about."
I could hear the voice of Dennis Deventer somewhere in the darkness. Thestars were still keen and bright, though the morning of the Midi wasnigh to the breaking.
"Clear machine-guns three, four, and six," he ordered. "Train them onthe doors of the fitting-shed. There are lights over yonder I don'tlike, and I can sniff the paraffin in the air!"
Deventer and I stood quite still with Rhoda Polly between us. Neither ofus knew what to do. We had received no word of command, and what we hadjust heard had somehow dislocated our simple world of duty. We hadimagined all the right to be on one side, all the wrong on the other.Now quite unexpectedly we saw the "tatter of scarlet" from a new angle.Its colour heightened till it glowed like a ruby. After all it stood foran idea--the ideal even which had brought us from school, and sent us onour wild-goose chase for Garibaldi.
The weak were to be supported against the strong. Perhaps, after all,those who had been long driven to the wall were at last to hold thecrown of the causeway.
Meanwhile, peering into the night we could see the dark masses of menclustering about the street corners of Aramon. The stars were paling alittle when we saw them suddenly bunch together and run towards the longtiled roofs of the fitting-sheds, filled with valuable new machinery.Lanterns winked and tossed as they went, torches flamed high, and therecame to our ears a kind of smothered cheer.
"Are you there, Jack Jaikes?"
"Here, sir."
"Aim well in front of them, and let them have it as soon as they getclose to the buildings. The ricochet from the walls will scare them aswell as anything else."
There was no hesitation in the Old Man's fighting dispositions, whateverhe might think privately of the men's cause. He would protect hismaster's property, and point out in the most practical way to the menthat they were going the wrong way about to get their wrongs redressed.
"B-r-r-r! B-r-r-r!" whirred and spluttered the mitrailleuses. Thesefirst machine-guns made a curious noise like the explosion of manysulphur matches held one after the other over a lamp chimney. Theeffect, however, was wonderful. The black rush of men checked itself ascore of paces from the fitting-sheds. Several fell to the ground, witha clatter of spilt petroleum cans, but the most turned tail and ran ashard as possible for the shelter of the streets and the trees along theboulevards.
One man only, very broad in the shoulders, bareheaded and belted with ared sash, kept on. He was carrying a torch dipped with tar, and this hethrust repeatedly under the doorway of the atelier.
"Give me Number 27, quick!" commanded Dennis Deventer. "I know who thatman is, and I am sorry, but he must be stopped."
Jack Jaikes placed the rifle in the old man's hand, and everybody heldtheir breaths. The lintel of the fitting-shed protected the fire-raisera little. We could see him thrusting with his torch till the sparks andsmoke almost enveloped him. Then he threw down the torch and ran heavilyback. He took hold of the first jar of petroleum which had beenabandoned in the flight, and was hastening back with it when Number 27spoke. The man appeared to gather himself up. Then he made a springforwards, spilling the oil in a gush in the direction of the smoulderingtorch.
But there came no answering burst of flame. The distance was too great.Dennis watched a moment after reloading, then shook his head gloomily.
"He was a good workman too--yet that does not help a man when once themaggot begins to gnaw underneath the brain pan."
The next day broke fresh and bright, with only that faint touch ofCamargue mist which the sun dissolves in his first quarter of an hour.
From the roof and northern balcony we cou
ld hear a curious thuddingsound in the direction of the moulding-works.
"The steam hammer," said Jack Jaikes; "pity we did not think to put herout of gear."
When he came down the chief listened a moment with his better ear turnedtowards the sound. Then he smiled ironically.
"They are trying to get a big field-gun ready for us. Luckily we havesent off the last we had in store. But they can't do it. At least theycan't do it in time. There are good workmen and capital fitters amongthem, but who is to do their calculations?"
"No matter," grumbled Jack Jaikes, half to himself, "they will go byrule of thumb, and though their gun would not pass army tests, they willmake it big enough and strong enough to drive a solid shell in at oneside of this house and out at the other."
At that moment the girls came down for breakfast, and there was no moretalk about the insurgents, or the state of siege at Chateau Schneider.
A Tatter of Scarlet: Adventurous Episodes of the Commune in the Midi 1871 Page 7
