CHAPTER VII. THE CLUB
So little impression had Merl's gloomy forebodings made upon CaptainMartin, that he actually forgot everything that this shrewd gentlemanpredicted, and only partially recalled them when the conversation thenext morning at the Club turned on the disturbed state of the capital.People in "society" find it excessively difficult to believe in anythinglike an organized opposition to the authorities of a government. Theyare so accustomed to hear of street assemblages being scattered by a fewsoldiers, mobs routed by a handful of mounted policemen, that they areslow to imagine how any formidable movement can take its rise in such asource. But the maladies of states, like those of the human frame,are often mere trifles in their origin; chance, and the concurrence ofevents swell their importance, till they assume an aspect of perhapsgreater menace than they deserve. This is essentially the case inrevolutionary struggles, where, at the outset, none ever contemplatesthe extent to which the mischief may reach. The proclamation of the"Ordinances," as they were called, had produced a great excitementin Paris. Groups of men in every street were gathered around some onereading aloud the violent commentaries of the public papers; thoughtfuland stern faces were met at every corner; a look of expectancy--anexpression that seemed to say, What next?--was perceptible on all sides.Many of the shops were half closed, and in some the objects of greatvalue were withdrawn to places of greater security. It was clear to seethat men apprehended some great crisis; but whence it should come, or bywhose instrumentality promoted, none seemed able to guess. Now and thena mounted orderly would ride by at a smart trot, or a patrol partyof dragoons dash past; and the significant glance that followed themindicated how full of meaning these signs appeared.
The day passed in this state of anxious uncertainty; and although thejournals discussed the condition of the capital as full of danger andmenace, an ostentatious announcement in the "Moniteur" proclaimed Paristo be tranquil. In society--at least in the world of fashion and highlife--there were very few who would have disputed the official despatch."Who and what were they who could dispute the King's Government? Who andwhere were there either leaders or followers? In what way should theyattempt it? The troops in and around Paris numbered something over fortythousand, commanded by an old Marshal of the Empire, now the trustiestadherent of royalty. The days of Mirabeaus and Robespierres and Dantonshad passed away; nor were these times in which men would like to recallthe reigns of terror and the guillotine." So they reasoned--or, if thephrase be too strong, so they talked--who lounged on soft-cushionedottomans, or moved listlessly over luxurious carpets; all agreeing thatit would be treasonable in the Ministers to retreat or abate one jot ofthe high prerogative of the Crown. Powdered heads shook significantly,and gold-embroidered vests heaved indignantly at the bare thought thatthe old spirit of '95 should have survived amongst them; but not onedreamed that the event boded seriously, or that the destinies of a greatnation were then in the balance.
It is but five-and-twenty years ago; and how much more have we learnedof the manufacture of revolutions in the interval! Barricades and streetwarfare have become a science, and the amount of resistance a half-armedpopulace can offer to a regular force is as much a matter of certaintyas a mathematical theorem. At that period, however, men were but inthe infancy of this knowledge; the traditions of the Great Revolutionscarcely were remembered, and, for the most part, they wereinapplicable.
What wonder, then, if people in society smiled scornfully at thepurposeless masses that occasionally moved past beneath their windows,shouting with discordant voices some fragments of the "Marseillaise,"or, as they approached the residence of any in authority, venturingon the more daring cry of "Down with the Ordinances!" The same tone ofhaughty contempt pervaded the "Club." Young men of fashion, little givento the cares of political life, and really indifferent to the action oflaws which never invaded the privileges of the play-table, or curtailedone prerogative of the "Coulisses," felt an angry impatience at all theturbulence and riot of the public streets.
In a magnificently furnished salon of the Club a number of these youngmen were now assembled. Gathered from every nation of Europe,--many ofthem bearing names of high historical interest,--they were, so far asdress, air, and appearance went, no ignoble representatives of theclass they belonged to. The proud and haughty Spaniard, the fierce-eyed,daring-looking Pole, the pale, intellectual-faced Italian, the courteousRussian, and the fair-haired, stalwart Saxon were all there; and,however dissimilar in type, banded together by the magic influence ofthe "set" they moved in, to an almost perfect uniformity of sentimentand opinion.
"I vote that any man be fined ten Louis that alludes, however remotely,to this confounded question again," cried Count Gardoni, risingimpatiently from his chair and approaching a card-table.
"And I second you!" exclaimed a Polish prince, with a Russian decorationat his button-hole.
"Carried _nem. con._" said Captain Martin, seating himself at theplay-table. "And now for the 'Lansquenet.'" And in a moment every seatwas occupied, and purses of gold and pocket-books of bank-notes werestrewed over the board. They were all men who played high; and the gamesoon assumed the grave character that so invariably accompanies largewagers. Wonderfully little passed, except the terms of the game itself.Gambling is a jealous passion, and never admits its votaries to wanderin their attention. And now large sums passed from hand to hand, and allthe passions of hope and fear racked heads and hearts around, while adecorous silence prevailed; or, when broken, some softly toned voicealone interrupted the stillness.
"Are you going, Martin?" whispered the young French Count de Nevers, asthe other moved noiselessly back from the table.
"It is high time, I think," said Martin; "this is my seventeenth nightof losing,--losing heavily, too. I'm sick of it!"
"Here 's a chance for you, Martin," said a Russian prince, who had justassumed "the bank." "You shall have your choice of color, and your ownstake."
"Thanks; but I'll not be tempted."
"I say red, and a thousand francs," cried a Neapolitan.
"There 's heavier play outside, I suspect," said Martin, as a wild,hoarse shout from the streets re-echoed through the room.
"A fine,--a fine,--Martin is fined!" cried several around the table.
"You have n't left me wherewithal to pay it, gentlemen," said he,laughing. "I was just about to retire, a bankrupt, into private life."
"That's platoon fire," exclaimed the Pole, as the loud detonation ofsmall arms seemed to shake the very room.
"Czernavitz also fined," cried two together.
"I bow in submission to the Court," said the Pole, throwing down themoney on the table.
"Lend _me_ as much more," said Martin; "it may change my luck." And withthis gambler's philosophy, he again drew nigh the table.
This slight interruption over, the game proceeded as before. Martin,however, was now a winner, every wager succeeding, and every bet he madea gain.
"There's nothing like a dogged persistence," said the Russian. "Fortunenever turns her back on him who shows constancy. See Martin, now; bythat very resolution he has conquered, and here we are, all clearedout!"
"I am, for one," cried an Italian, flinging his empty purse on thetable.
"There's my last Louis," said Nevers. "I reserve it to pay for mysupper."
"Martin shall treat us all to supper!" exclaimed another.
"Where shall it be, then?" said Martin; "here, or at my own quarters?"
"Here, by all means," cried some.
"I 'm for the Place Vendome," said the Pole, "for who knows but we shallcatch a glimpse of that beautiful girl, Martin's 'Belle Irlandaise.'"
"I saw her to-night," said the Italian, "and I own she _is_ all you say.She was speaking to Villemart, and I assure you the old Minister won'tforget it in a hurry. Something or other he said about the noise in thestreet drew from him the word _canaille_. She turned round at once andattacked him. He replied, and the controversy grew warm; so much so,that many gathered around them to listen, a
mongst whom I saw the Ducde Guiche, Prince du Saulx, and the Austrian Minister. Nothing could bemore perfect than her manner,--calm, without any effrontery; assured,and yet no sacrifice of delicacy. It was easy to see, too, that thetheme was not one into which she stumbled by an accident; she knew everyevent of the Great Revolution, and used the knowledge with consummateskill, and, but for one slip, with consummate temper also.
"What was the slip you allude to?" cried the Russian.
"It was when Villemart, after a boastful enumeration of the superiormerits of his order, called them the 'Enlighteners of the People.'
"'You played that part on one occasion,' said she; 'but I scarcelythought you 'd like to refer to it.'
"'How so? When do you mean?' asked he.
"'When they hung you to the lanterns,' said she, with the energy ofa tigress in her look. Pardie! at that moment I never saw anything sobeautiful or so terrible."
A loud uproar in the street without, in which the sound of troop-horsespassaging to and fro could be distinguished, now interrupted thecolloquy. As the noise increased, a low, deep roar, like the sound ofdistant thunder, could be heard, and the Pole cried out,--"Messieurs lesSans-culottes, I strongly advise you to turn homewards, for, if I be notmuch mistaken, here comes the artillery."
"The affair may turn out a serious one, after all," broke in theItalian.
"A serious one!" echoed the Pole, scornfully. "How can it? Fortybattalions of infantry, ten thousand sabres, and eight batteries; arethey not enough, think you, to rout this contemptible herd of streetrioters?"
"There--listen! It has begun already!" exclaimed Martin, as the sharpreport of fire-arms, quite close to the windows, was followed by acrash, and then a wild, mad shout, half rage, half defiance.
"There's nothing for it, in these things, but speedy action," saidthe Pole; "grape and cavalry charges to clear the streets, and riflepractice at anything that shows itself at the windows."
"It is so easy, so very easy, to crush a mob," said the Russian, "if youonly direct your attention to the leader,--think of nothing but _him_.Once you show that, whatever may be the fate of others, death must behis, the whole assemblage becomes a disorganized, unwieldy mass, to besabred or shot down at pleasure."
"Soldiers have no fancy for this kind of warfare," said De Nevers,haughtily; "victory is never glorious, defeat always humiliation."
"But who talks of defeat?" exclaimed the Pole, passionately. "Theofficer who could fail against such an enemy should be shot by acourt-martial. We have, I believe, every man of us here, served; andI asked you, what disproportion of force could suggest a doubt ofsuccess?"
As he spoke, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a youngman, with dress all disordered, and the fragment of a hat in his hand,entered.
"What, Massingbred!" cried one, "how came you to be so roughly handled?"
"So much for popular politeness!" exclaimed the Russian, as he took upthe tattered remains of a dress-coat, and exhibited it to the others.
"Pardon me, Prince," replied Massingbred, as he filled a glass ofwater and drank it off, "this courtesy I received at the hands of themilitary. I was turning my cab from the Boulevard to enter this street,when a hoarse challenge of a sentry, saying I know not what, attractedmy attention. I drew up short to learn, and then suddenly came a rushof the people from behind, which terrified my horse, and set him off atspeed; the uproar increasing, the affrighted animal dashed madly onward,the crowd flying on every side, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past myhead, cutting my hat in two; a second, at the same instant, struck myhorse, and killed him on the spot, cab and all rolling over as he fell.How I arose, gained my legs, and was swept away by the dense torrent ofthe populace, are events of which I am very far from clear. I only knowthat although the occurrence happened within half an hour ago, it seemsto _me_ an affair of days since."
"You were, doubtless, within some line of outposts when firstchallenged," said the Pole, "and the speed at which you drove wasbelieved to be an arranged plan of attack, for you say the mob followedyou."
"Very possibly your explanation is the correct one," said Massingbred,coolly; "but I looked for more steadiness and composure from the troops,while I certainly did not anticipate so much true courtesy and kindnessas I met with from the people."
"Parbleu! here's Massingbred becoming Democrat," said one. "The nextthing we shall hear is his defence of a barricade."
"You'll assuredly not hear that I attacked one in such company asinflicted all this upon me," rejoined he, with an easy smile.
"Here's the man to captivate your 'Belle Irlandaise,' Martin," criedone. "Already is he a hero and a martyr to Royal cruelty."
"Ah! you came too late to hear that," said the Pole, in a whisper toMassingbred; "but it seems La Henderson became quite a Charlotte Cordaythis evening, and talked more violent Republicanism than has been heardin a salon since the days of old Egalite."
"All lights must be extinguished, gentlemen," said the waiter, enteringhastily. "The street is occupied by troops, and you must pass out by theRue de Grenelle."
"Are the mobs not dispersing, then?" asked the Russian.
"No, your Highness. They have beaten back the troops from the QuaiVoltaire, and are already advancing on the Louvre."
"What absurdity!" exclaimed the Pole. "If the troops permit this, thereis treason amongst them."
"I can answer for it there is terror, at least," said Massingbred."All the high daring and spirit is with what you would call theSans-culottes."
"That a man should talk this way because he has lost a cab-horse!" criedthe Pole, insolently.
"There are men who can bear the loss of a country with moreequanimity,--I know that," whispered Massingbred in his ear, with allthe calm sternness of an insult.
"You mean this for _me?_" said the Pole, in a low voice.
"Of course I do," was the answer.
"Where?--when?--how?" muttered the Pole, in suppressed passion.
"I leave all at your disposal," said Massingbred, smiling at the other'seffort to control his rage.
"At Versailles,--to-morrow morning,--pistols."
Massingbred bowed, and turned away. At the same instant the waiterentered to say that the house must be cleared at once, or all within itconsent to remain close prisoners.
"Come along, Martin," said Massingbred, taking his arm. "I shall wantyou to do me a favor. Let us make our escape by the Rue de Grenelle, andI 'll engage to pilot you safely to your own quarters."
"Has anything passed between you and Czernavitz?" asked Martin, as theygained the street.
"A slight exchange of civilities which requires an exchange of shots,"said Jack, calmly.
"By George! I 'm sorry for it. He can hit a franc-piece at thirtypaces."
"So can I, Martin; and, what's more, Anatole knows it. He's as braveas a lion, and it is my confounded skill has pushed him on to thisprovocation."
"He 'll shoot you," muttered Martin, in a half revery.
"Not impossible," said Massingbred. "He's a fellow who cannot concealhis emotions, and will show at once what he means to do."
"Well, what of that?"
"Simply, that if he intends mischief I shall know it, and send a bulletthrough his heart."
Little as Martin had seen of Massingbred,--they were but Clubacquaintances of a few weeks back,--he believed that he was one of thosesmart, versatile men who, with abundance of social ability, acquirereputation for higher capacity than they possess; but, above all, henever gave him credit for anything like a settled purpose or a sternresolution. It was, then, with considerable astonishment that he nowheard him avow this deadly determination with all the composure thatcould vouch for its sincerity. There was, however, little time to thinkof these things. The course they were driven to follow, by by-streetsand alleys, necessitated a long and difficult way. The greatthoroughfares which they crossed at intervals were entirely in thepossession of the troops, who challenged them as they approached, andonly suffered them to proceed when wel
l satisfied with their account.The crowds had all dispersed, and to the late din and tumult there hadsucceeded the deep silence of a city sunk in sleep, only broken by thehoarse call of the sentinels, or the distant tramp of a patrol.
"It is all over, I suppose," said Martin. "The sight of theeight-pounders and the dark caissons has done the work."
"I don't think so," said Massingbred, "nor do the troops think so.These mobs are not like ours in England, who, with plenty of individualcourage, are always poltroons in the mass. These fellows understandfighting as an art, know how to combine their movements, arrangethe modes of attack or defence, can measure accurately the meansof resistance opposed to them, and, above all, understand how to beled,--something far more difficult than it seems. In _my_ good boroughof Oughterard,--or yours, rather, Martin, for I have only a loan ofit,--a few soldiers--the army, as they would call them--would sweep thewhole population before them. Our countrymen can get up a row, thesefellows can accomplish a revolt,--there's the difference."
"And have they any real, substantial grievance that demands such anexpiation?"
"Who knows?" said he, laughingly. "There never was a Government too badto live under,--there never was one exempt from great vices. Half thepolitical disturbances the world has witnessed have arisen from causesremote from State Government; a deficient harvest, a dear loaf, theliberty of the Press invaded,--a tyranny always resented by those whocan't read,--are common causes enough. But here we are now at the PlaceVendome, and certainly one should say the odds are against the people."
Massingbred said truly. Two battalions of infantry, with a battery ofguns in position, were flanked by four squadrons of Cuirassiers, theformidable array filling the entire "Place," and showing by their airand attitude their readiness for any eventuality. A chance acquaintancewith one of the staff enabled Massingbred and Martin to pass throughtheir lines and arrive at their hotel.
"Remember," said the officer who accompanied them, "that you are closeprisoners now. My orders are that nobody is to leave the Place under anypretext."
"Why, you can scarcely suspect that the Government has enemies in thisaristocratic quarter?" said Massingbred, smiling.
"We have them everywhere," was the brief answer, as he bowed and turnedaway.
"I scarcely see how I'm to keep my appointment at Versailles to-morrowmorning," said Massingbred, as he followed Martin up the spaciousstairs. "Happily, Czernavitz knows me, and will not misinterpret myabsence."
"Not to say that he may be unable himself to get there," said Martin.As he spoke, they had reached the door, opening which with his key, theCaptain motioned to Massingbred to enter.
Massingbred stopped suddenly, and in a voice of deep meaning said, "Yourfather lives here?"
"Yes,--what then?" asked Martin.
"Only that I have no right to pass his threshold," said the other, ina low voice. "I was his guest once, and I 'm not sure that I repaid thehospitality as became me. You were away at the time."
"You allude to that stupid election affair," said Martin. "I can onlysay that I never did, never could understand it. My only feeling wasone of gratitude to you for saving me from being member for theborough. Come along," said he, taking his arm; "this is no time for yourscruples, at all events."
"No, Martin, I cannot," said the other. "I 'd rather walk up to one ofthose nine-pounders there than present myself to your lady-mother--"
"But you needn't. You are _my_ guest; these are _my_ quarters. You shallsee nobody but myself till you leave this. Remember what the Captaintold us; we are prisoners here." And without waiting for a reply, Martinpushed him before him into the room.
"Two o'clock," said Massingbred, looking at his watch; "and we are to beat Versailles by eight."
"Well, leave all the care of that to me," said Martin; "and do you throwyourself on the bed there, and take some rest. Without you prefer to supfirst?"
"No, an hour's sleep is what I stand most in need of; and so I 'll saygood-night."
Massingbred said this less that he wanted repose than a brief intervalto be alone with his own thoughts. And now, as he closed his eyes toaffect sleep, it was really to commune with his own heart, and reflectover what had just occurred.
Independently that he liked Czernavitz personally, he was sorry for aquarrel at such a moment. There was a great game about to be played, anda mere personal altercation seemed something small and contemptible inthe face of such events. "What will be said of us," thought he, "butthat we were a pair of hot-headed fools, thinking more of a miserableinterchange of weak sarcasms than of the high destinies of a wholenation? And it was _my_ fault," added he to himself; "I had no right toreproach him with a calamity hard enough to bear, even without itsbeing a reproach. What a strange thing is life, after all!" thoughthe; "everything of greatest moment that occurs in it the upshot of anaccident,--my going to Ireland, my visit to the West, my election, mymeeting with Kate Henderson, and now this duel." And, so ruminating, hedropped off into a sound sleep, undisturbed by sounds that might wellhave broken the heaviest slumber.
The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II) Page 7
