Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume II

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XV. A GOOD-BY

  "I have come to bring you a card for the Court ball, Capitaine," saidGeneral Daru, as he opened the door of my dressing-room the followingmorning. "See what a number of them I have here; but except your own,the addresses are not filled up. You are in favor at the Tuileries, itwould seem."

  "I was not aware of my good fortune, General," replied I.

  "Be assured, however, it is such," said he. "These things are not, as somany deem them, mere matters of chance; every name is well weighedand conned over: the officers of the household serve one who does notforgive mistakes. And now that I think of it, you were intimate--veryintimate, I believe--with Duchesne?"

  "Yes, sir; we were much together."

  "Well, then, after what has occurred, I need scarcely say youracquaintance with him had better cease. There is no middle course inthese matters. Circumstances will not bring you, as formerly, into eachother's company; and to continue your intimacy would be offensive to hisMajesty."

  "But surely, sir, the friendship of persons so humble as we are can bea subject neither for the Emperor's satisfaction nor displeasure, if heeven were to know of it?"

  "You must take my word for that," replied the general, somewhat sternly."The counsel I have given to-day may come as a command to-morrow. TheChevalier Duchesne has given his Majesty great and grave offence; seethat you are not led to follow his example." With a marked emphasis onthe last few words, and with a cold bow, he left the room.

  "That I am not led to follow his example!" said I, repeating his wordsover slowly to myself. "Is that, then, the danger of which he would warnme?"

  The remembrance of the misfortunes which opened my career in life camefull before me,--the unhappy acquaintance with De Beauvais, and the longtrain of suspicious circumstances that followed; and I shuddered at thebare thought of being again involved in apparent criminality. And yet,what a state of slavery was this! The thought flashed suddenly across mymind, and I exclaimed aloud, "And this is the liberty for which I haveperilled life and limb,--this the cause for which I have become an alienand an exile!"

  "Most true, my dear friend," said Duchesne, gayly, as he slipped intothe room, and drew his Chair towards the fire. "A wise reflection, butmost unwisely spoken. But there are men nothing can teach; not even the'Temple' nor the 'Palais de Justice.'"

  "How, then,--you know of my unhappy imprisonment?"

  "Know of it? To be sure I do. Bless your sweet innocence! I have beentold, a hundred times over, to make overtures to you from the Faubourg.There are at least a dozen old ladies there who believe firmly you are atrue Legitimist, and wear the white cockade next your heart. I have had,over and over, the most tempting offers to make you. Faith, I 'mnot quite certain if we are not believed to be, at this very moment,concocting how to smuggle over the frontier a brass carronade and aroyal livery, two pounds of gunpowder and a court periwig, to restorethe Bourbons!"

  He burst into a fit of laughing as he concluded; and however littledisposed to mirth at the moment, I could not refrain from joining in theemotion.

  "But now for a moment of serious consideration, Burke; for I can beserious at times, at least when my friends are concerned. You and I mustpart here; it is all the better for you it should be so. I am what theworld is pleased to call a 'dangerous companion;' and there's more truthin the epithet than they wot of who employ it. It is not because I am aman of pleasure, and occasionally a man of expensive habits and costlytastes, nor that I now and then play deep, or drink deep, or follow upwith passionate determination any ruling propensity of the moment; butbecause I am a discontented and unsettled man, who has a vague ambitionof being something he knows not what, by means he knows not how,--everwilling to throw himself into an enterprise where the prize is great andthe risk greater, and yet never able to warm his wishes into enthusiasmnor his belief into a conviction: in a word, a Frenchman, born aLegitimist, reared a Democrat, educated an Imperialist, and turnedadrift upon the world a scoffer. Such men as I am are dangerouscompanions; and when they increase, as they are likely to do in ourstate of society, will be still more dangerous citizens. But come, mygood friend, don't look dismayed, nor distend your nostrils as if youwere on the scent for a smell of brimstone,--'Satan s'en va!'"

  With these words he arose and held out his hand to me. "Don't let yourNapoleonite ardor ooze out too rapidly, Burke, and you 'll be a marshalof France yet. There are great prizes in the wheel, to be had by thosewho strive for them. Adieu!"

  "But we shall meet, Duchesne?"

  "I hope so. The time may come, perhaps, when we may be intimate withoutalarming the police of the department. But, for the present, I am aboutto leave Paris; some friends in the South have been kind enough toinvite me to visit them, and I start this afternoon."

  We shook hands once more, and Duchesne moved towards the door; then,turning suddenly about, he said, "Apropos of another matter,--thisMademoiselle de Lacostellerie.

  "What of her?" said I, with some curiosity in my tone.

  "Why, I have a kind of half suspicion, ripening into something like anassurance, that when we meet again she may be Madame Burke."

  "What nonsense, my dear friend! the absurdity--"

  "There is none whatever. An acquaintance begun like yours is verysuggestive of such a termination. When the lady is saucy and thegentleman shy, the game stands usually thus: the one needs control andthe other lacks courage. Let them change the cards, and see what comesof it."

  "You are wrong, Duchesne,--all wrong."

  "Be it so. I have been so often right, I can afford a false predictionwithout losing all my character as prophet. Adieu!"

  No sooner was I alone than I sat down to think over what he had said.The improbability, nay, as it seemed to me, the all but impossibility,of such an event as he foretold, seemed not less now than when first Iheard it; but somehow I felt a kind of internal satisfaction, a sense ofgratified vanity, to think that to so acute an observer as Duchesne sucha circumstance did not appear even unreasonable. How hard it is to callin reason against the assault of flattery! How difficult to resistthe force of an illusion by any appeal to our good sense and calmerjudgment!

  It must not be supposed from this that I seriously contemplated such apossible turn of fortune,--far less wished for it. No; my satisfactionhad a different source. It lay in the thought that I, the humble captainof hussars, should ever be thought of as the suitor of the greatestbeauty and the richest dowry of the day: here was the mainspring ofmy flattered pride. As to any other feeling, I had none. I admiredMademoiselle de Lacostellerie greatly; she was, perhaps, the veryhandsomest girl I ever saw; there was not one in the whole rangeof Parisian society so much sought after; and there was a degree ofdistinction in being accounted even among the number of her admirers.Besides this, there lay a lurking desire in my heart that Marie deMeudon (for as such only could I think of her) should hear me thusspoken of. It seemed to me like a weak revenge on her own indifferenceto me; and I longed to make anything a cause of connecting my fate withthe idea of her who yet held my whole heart.

  Only men who live much to themselves and their own thoughts know thepleasure of thus linking their fortunes, by some imaginary chain, tothat of those they love. They are the straws that drowning men catch at;but still, for the moment, they sustain the sinking courage, and nervethe heart where all is failing. I felt this acutely. I knew well thatshe was not, nor could be, anything to me; but I knew, also, that todivest my mind of her image was to live in darkness, and that the merechance of being remembered by her was happiness itself. It was whilehearing of her I first imbibed the soldier's ardor from her own brother.She herself had placed before me the glorious triumphs of that career inwords that never ceased to ring in my ears. All my hopes of distinction,my aspirations for success, were associated with the half predictionshe had uttered; and I burned for an occasion by which I could signalizemyself,--that she might read my name, perchance might say, "And _he_loved me!"

  In such a world of dreamy thought I pas
sed day after day. Duchesne wasgone, and I had no intimate companion to share my hours with, nor withwhom I could expand in social freedom. Meanwhile, the gay life of thecapital continued its onward course; fetes and balls succeededeach other; and each night I found myself a guest at some splendidentertainment, but where I neither knew nor was known to any one.

  It was on one morning, after a very magnificent fete at theArch-Chancellor's, that I remembered, for the first time, I had not seenmy poor friend Pioche since his arrival at Paris. A thrill of shameran through me at the thought of having neglected to ask after my oldcomrade of the march, and I ordered my horse at once, to set out forthe Hotel-Dieu, which had now been in great part devoted to the woundedsoldiers.

  The day was a fine one for the season; and as I entered the largecourtyard I perceived numbers of the invalids moving about in groups, toenjoy the air and the sun of a budding spring. Poor fellows! they werebut the mere remnants of humanity. Several had lost both legs, and fewwere there without an empty sleeve to their loose blue coats. In a largehall, where three long tables were being laid for dinner, many wereseated around the ample fireplaces; and at one of these a largergroup than ordinary attracted my attention. They were not chatting andlaughing, like the rest, but apparently in deep silence. I approached,curious to know the reason; and then perceived that they were alllistening attentively to some one reading aloud. The tones of the voicewere familiar to me; I stopped to hear them more plainly.

  It was Minette herself--the vivandiere--who sat there in the midst;beside her, half reclining in a deep, old-fashioned armchair, was "legros Pioche," his huge beard descending midway on his chest, and hisgreat mustache curling below his upper lip. He had greatly rallied sinceI saw him last, but still showed signs of debility and feebleness by thevery attitude in which he lay.

  [Illustration 194]

  Mingling unperceived with the crowd, who were far too highly interestedin the recital to pay any attention to my approach, I listenedpatiently, and soon perceived that mademoiselle was reading someincident of the Egyptian campaign from one of those innumerable volumeswhich then formed the sole literature of the garrison.

  "The redoubt," continued Minette, "was strongly defended in front bystockades and a ditch, while twelve pieces of artillery and a force ofseven hundred Mamelukes were within the works. Suddenly an aide-de-camparrived at full gallop, with orders for the Thirty-second to attack theredoubt with the bayonet, and carry it. The major of the regiment (thecolonel had been killed that morning at the ford) cried out,--

  "'Grenadiers, you hear the order,--Forward!' But the same instant aterrible discharge of grape tore through the ranks, killing three andwounding eight others. 'Forward, men! forward!' shouted the major. Butno one stirred."

  "_Tete d'enfer_," growled out Pioche, "where was the tambour?"

  "You shall hear," said Minette, and resumed.

  "'Do you hear me?' cried the major, 'or am I to be disgraced forever?Advance--quick time--march!'

  "'But, Major,' said a sergeant, aloud, 'they are not roasted applesthose fellows yonder are pelting.'

  "'Silence!' called out the major; 'not a word! Tambour, beat thecharge!'

  "Suddenly a man sprang up to his knees from the ground where he had beenlying, and began to beat the drum with all his might. Poor fellow! hisleg was smashed with a shot, but he obeyed his orders in the midst ofall his suffering.

  "'Forward, men! forward!' cried the major, waving his cap above hishead. 'Fix bayonets--charge!' And on they dashed after him.

  "'Halloo, comrades!' shouted the tambour; 'don't leave me behind you.'And in an instant two grenadiers stooped down and hoisted him on theirshoulders, and then rushed forward through the smoke and flame. Crashingand smashing went the shot through the leading files; but on they went,leaping over the dead and dying."

  "With the tambour still?" asked Pioche.

  "To be sure," said Minette; "there he was. But listen:--

  "Just as they reached the breach a shot above their heads came whizzingpast, and a terrible bang rang out as it went.

  "'He is killed,' said one of the grenadiers, preparing to lower thebody; 'I heard his cry.'

  BrowneDrummerBoy121]

  "'Not yet, Comrade,' cried the tambour; 'it is the drum-head they havecarried away, that's all;' and he beat away on the wooden sides harderthan ever. And thus they bore him over the glacis, and up the rampart,and never stopped till they placed him, sitting, on one of the guns onthe wall."

  "Hurrah! well done!" cried Pioche; while every throat around himre-echoed the cry, "Hurrah!"

  "What was his name, Mademoiselle?" cried several voices. "Tell us thename of the tambour!"

  "_Ma foi, Messieurs!_they have not given it."

  "Not given his name," growled they out. "_Ventrebleu!_ that is too bad!"

  "An he had been an officer of the Guard they would have told us hiswhole birth and parentage," said a wrinkled, sour-looking old fellow,with one eye.

  "Or a lieutenant of hussars, Mademoiselle!" said Pioche, looking fixedlyat the vivandiere, who held the book close to her face to conceal a deepblush that covered it.

  "But, halloo, there! Qui vive?" The cuirassier had just caught a glimpseof me at the moment, and every eye was turned at once to where I wasstanding. "Ah, Lieutenant, you here! Not invalided, I hope?"

  "No, Pioche. My visit was intended for you; and I have had the goodfortune to come in for the tale mademoiselle was reading."

  Before I had concluded these few words, the wounded soldiers, or such ofthem as could, had risen from their seats, and stood respectfully aroundme; while Minette, retreating behind the great chair where Pioche lay,seemed to wish to avoid recognition.

  "Front rank, Mademoiselle! front rank!" said Pioche. "_Parbleu!_when onehas the 'cross of the Legion' from the hands of the Emperor himself, oneneed not be ashamed of being seen. Besides," added he, in a lower tone,but one I could well overhear, "thou art not dressed in thy uniform now;thou hast nothing to blush for!"

  Still she hung down her head, and her confusion seemed only to increase;so that, unwilling to prolong her embarrassment, which I saw my presencehad caused, I merely made a few inquiries from Pioche regarding his ownhealth, and took my leave of the party.

  As I rode homeward, I could not help turning over in my mind the wordsof Pioche, "Thou art not in thy uniform now; thou hast nothing to blushfor!" Here, then, seemed the key to the changed manner of the poor girlwhen I met her at Austerlitz,--some feeling of womanly shame at beingseen in the costume of the vivandiere by one who had known her only inanother guise. But could this be so? I asked myself,--a question avery little knowledge of a woman's heart might have spared me. And thuspondering, I returned to the Luxembourg.