CHAPTER XXVI
KELLER BEY, INSURGENT
Among the panelled mirrors and gilt splendours of the Hotel de Ville ofAramon I opened my eyes. A doctor had been attending me. My head wastightly bandaged and my left hand was also bound up. From many aches andpains I judged that in my quality of detected spy I had been somewhatseverely dealt with, by the crowd, or perhaps my own man had rememberedthe taste of the gag and had perpetrated some little personal atrocitieson his own account, before delivering me up to justice, in order tosquare the account.
The doctor was talking to Keller Bey. It was broad day, and abundantlight, filtering through the plane trees, flooded the great room. It wasusually the Salle des Mariages, but for the time being it had beenconverted into a lounging place for the people of Aramon. I had in factawakened on election day, and in the new Commune my vote was as good asthat of any other man. At one end was a space boarded off in the regularway, into which one elector after another passed with his voting ticket,and having deposited it under the eyes of the four watchful questors,walked immediately out by the opposite door.
Presently Keller Bey passed into an inner room, which, from the gildingupon the door and the allegorical figures above holding swords ofjustice and ill-adjusted balances, I took to be a court room. It was infact the mayoral parlour, and the comfortable office coat and even thedressing-gown of the late occupant still hung on the pegs behind thedoor.
Keller Bey gave an order and I was immediately brought in and laid upona wide and springy sofa which furnished one whole side of the apartment.I noticed the device of the crossed red and black flags had been removedfrom his tie, and was now worn upon the lapel of his coat like adecoration.
As soon as the room was clear he came over and sat down beside me. Atsight of me his grim face softened almost as it was wont to do when Linnor Alida spoke to him.
"All this may seem very strange to you," he said, with a faint feelingof apology in his voice, "you who have only seen me going about thehouse like a tame cat. But since I was raised to high place andconsideration in the Internationale, the old fighting spirit rose withinme. I could not deny the appeal of my brothers to stand by them, and soyou find me here, at the head of the Commune of Aramon--at least tillthe will of the voters is ascertained. The men who are with me arehonest fellows, but, so far as I see, quite incapable of leadership. Ido not believe that the vote will strip me of any authority orresponsibility."
I thought that he was talking straight on without stopping in order toescape the question which he must have seen on my lips.
"And your duty to Linn and Alida?" I demanded abruptly. I could see himflush and pale.
"Personal and private interests must give way at such times," heanswered firmly enough, but his tones did not carry conviction, noteven, I think, to himself.
"Besides," he added, after a pause, "Linn knew that it would have tocome. I dare not refuse a call of duty because of the danger."
"It is lucky for Linn and Alida," I said with the studied cruelty onlyattained by boys, "that they have friends who put them before all publicduties."
"Sir," said Keller Bey, his cheek blanching to a kind of cadavericrigidity, so great was the intensity of his anger, "I do not allowanyone to call my actions into question."
"Call in your soldiers, Monsieur of the Internationale," I saidtauntingly, "you can soon get even with me. There are many walls betweenhere and the cottage in my father's garden. My shooting will not havethe _eclat_ of the assassination of the Paris generals, but it will comeas blithe news for the three left wondering in the garden of Gobelet."
I spoke like a bad, spiteful boy, conscious of a power to wound to thequick and thoroughly enjoying my triumph.
Keller Bey did not answer directly to my railings. He felt instinctivelythat he could not meet me along these lines.
"How did you come here?" he demanded abruptly, "and why in the coat of aGarde Nationale?"
"Because," I said, looking at him with my bandaged head lifted on myhand, "_I_ do not forget old kindnesses. Nor yet new ones--though _my_house had not been set in order and largely furnished by the kindness ofthe Deventers. I crossed the river in a boat and was going to findthem--to help them if I could, if necessary to fight and die with them,if your people should besiege them as they have done before."
Keller Bey threw out his arms suddenly with the gesture of a torturedman who seeks something to grip in his agony.
"I had not thought youth so cruel," he moaned. "Do you not understandthat I am here to prevent all that? I stand between the hotheads andDennis Deventer. His wife and family are as safe here as mine in yourfather's garden, of which you are so good as repeatedly to remind me!"
I am afraid that my expression expressed unbelief.
"You must pardon me," I said suavely and still provocatively, "but Ihave been among the chimneys of the Chateau Schneider when themitrailleuses were talking. You intend to rule justly and love mercy,but what of the men about you? I have seen them streaming across theopen court wrecking and destroying."
"Exactly," said Keller Bey, with suddenly recovered dignity, "but then Iwas not at the direction of affairs. If any man now disobeys he shall bemade to feel the vengeance of the Internationale! We shall sow fearamong them as corn is sown on a windy day."
At this moment Keller was summoned outside, and I could hear his voicedominating and allaying a quarrel between functionaries, as I lay backlistening and determined to find out what he intended to do with myselfas soon as he came back. But one thing and another was referred to himfor judgment, and it was the better part of an hour before he came inholding a sheaf of telegrams in his hand. A secretary accompanied him,and I had perforce to put off my demand.
Keller Bey had evidently regained some of the old military readinesswhich had made him the favourite lieutenant of the great Emir. Hedictated telegrams and dispatches to Paris, to St. Etienne, to Narbonne,and especially a long communication to Gaston Cremieux at Marseilles.
There were (he said) certainly men at Aramon and to spare, but for themoment each Commune in revolt must depend upon itself. When theprovisional Government of Aramon, of which he was the head, had handedover its powers to a properly elected Commune, then would be the time tospeak of sending reinforcements to a greater neighbour. It was true thatthere were no troops belonging to the expelled Government of Versaillesin the city of Aramon itself, but to the north the ancient, highlyclerical Avignon offered an excellent centre for collecting an armycorps. The Government of the Assembly, exiled to Versailles, had itshands tied by the marvellous success of the Paris revolt. But save thatthe Commune of Paris was sending a pair of delegates to arrange terms ofassociation, no help need be looked for from that quarter.
At last Keller Bey made an end and dismissed the secretary. Then he sata while with his head upon his hands in deep thought.
I interrupted his meditation with my question.
"And now, Keller Bey, what do you mean to do with me?"
He did not reply instantly, but continued his meditations in silence. Iwas compelled to put the question three times, and the third time withsome heat, before he raised his head to answer.
"In the meantime I shall keep you by me as a hostage. The voting is notyet over, and, though I do not anticipate any violent change, there isalways a possibility that the fiery spirits may urge violent measures.In that case I shall use you for a messenger to our friends at ChateauSchneider. In any case, you have come to me and here you had betterstay. It may be necessary also to communicate with my family and in thatmatter I could trust only you."
This was a great disappointment to me, who had thought that an hourwould see me inside the walls of the Chateau Schneider, talking withMrs. Deventer or sneaking off into the conservatory or out upon the roofwith Rhoda Polly for one of our long talks about everything in heavenabove and on the earth beneath.
But it was very evident that Keller Bey had made up his mind, and, atany rate, I had galled him too bitterly in the beginning of our
conversation to admit of my finishing it by asking a favour. I onlyshrugged my shoulders and said mockingly:
"Perhaps you would like me to lead your thousand men to Marseilles aswell?"
"Indeed," he replied unexpectedly, "I am not sure but that it is anexcellent idea--you are a friend of Gaston Cremieux. I could send you ascivil delegate without awakening any jealousy among the chiefs ofbattalion. It is a suggestion which will bear thinking over--certainlynot to be lost sight of."
* * * * *
I had many and excellent opportunities of watching Keller Bey in his newcharacter of insurrectional leader during the days which followed. Asevery one anticipated, his name led the list of the new Commune by manythousands majority. The others came meekly behind, even the Pere Felixonly emerging from the crowd by a head.
What specially gratified Keller Bey was that no member of the noisy gangof wreckers had been chosen.
"What did I tell you?" he cried, patting me on the shoulder; "ourGovernment is to be a model of firmness and sobriety."
And so it was, as far as Keller Bey could make it. But there remaineddangerous elements of which he was ignorant, but which were very clearto Dennis Deventer, who had seen the leaven of evil at work for manyyears.
On the morrow began the organisation of the services of the newGovernment. It was a strange installation, and I sat there like aspectator in a good seat at a theatre and watched the play. None ofthose who were on the stage seemed to have any idea of theridiculousness of the performance. Only I, outside all wire-pulling, sawthe truth. The rest were hypnotised by the wonderful thing which hadhappened--a Commune at Aramon!
Hour by hour I saw Aramon being cut off from the world. At the firstnews of the election of a Commune the officials of the post office haddisappeared. Piles of letters accumulated on the desks and before theranged pigeon-holes. Sacks arrived by train so long as these wererunning, and were heaped in corners. The telegraphic machines were setdown where the operators had abandoned them. I amused myself by callingup the different towns in our neighbourhood, but received answers onlyfrom Marseilles and Narbonne. The rest had nothing to say to a revoltedcity like ours. By and by Narbonne was abruptly cut off, probably atCette or some intervening town favourable to the Government ofVersailles.
Half of Keller Bey's time was taken up with such matters as the choiceof a new post office staff. Where they came from I cannot imagine, theseseekers after office. And their credentials! One highly recommendedclaimant for the office of receiver of contributions had been expelledby the brutal tyranny of Napoleon from a Tobacco Bureau. He hadthereafter languished in prison, not, as he gave Keller to understand,as a political victim, but as a good, solid embezzler of Governmentmoney. Yet he was supported by a Commandant of the National Guards, arelative of his own, and but for my chance recognition of him, woulddoubtless have been appointed.
The post office staff was soon complete--director, assistants,money-order clerks, telegraph clerks, and messengers--postmen for thedistrict town deliveries, postmen for the rural rounds--but after thefirst solemn sorting of the _debris_ left behind by the old staff, notso much as a letter or a newspaper, to pass from hand to hand, even as acuriosity!
The civil services, the mayoral staff, the judges of the tribunal,judges of the commercial court, Procureur of the Republic and so forthgave a little more trouble. Pere Felix was appointed President of theTribunal, and his good nature and popularity promised easy sentences forthe malefactors of Aramon. But they gave him for public prosecutor oneRaoux, a little wizened wisp of a man, a shoemaker and bold orator ofthe bars, who in his readiness of denunciation threw Fouquier-Tinvilleinto the shade, and in irreverence and insolence approached RaoulRigault himself. Raoux was high in the National Guards, which Keller Beyhad not yet begun to recognise as the power behind his throne.Consequently he had a real influence and soon aspired to nothing lessthan a ministry of justice, both making denunciations and by hisauthority sending the denounced to prison.
The officers of the city gaol were almost the only ones who remained ofthe civil servants of the Empire. They were mostly Corsicans, and astheir chief Calvi said: "They had come to France to keep prisonerssafely." He would give a receipt for each on arrival, and exact asimilar receipt on his leaving the Chateau du Monsieur le Duc. But hewould take the same pains with the prisoners of the new Government aswith those of the old--and so, since, in fact, no Communard wished tobecome a turnkey, a _garde-chiourme_, Calvi and his staff were left inundisputed possession of the Central Prison and House of correction ofthe department of Rhone-et-Durance.
Some of the happenings were curious. The prisoners within, sentenced tovarious terms of reclusion and imprisonment under the Empire, foundthemselves on their release walking about in a world which knew notJoseph. Some were rearrested as spies, but even the vibrant littlecobbler Raoux could not break down the excellence of the alibi whichthey had ready to hand.
Some alarmed good women by asking news of the Emperor, or loudlyexpressing disbelief in a _cafe_ when the disasters of the war werehinted at. A ruffianly fellow, excited by his first cup of spirits forsome years, offered to fight any man who dared to say that the Germanshad entered Paris. So fiercely did he assault the original patriot whohad mentioned the fact, that the rest of the party, gathered over theircards and mulled wine in the Cafe Jacquard, denied one by one that theyhad ever heard of such a thing. Finally the tyranny of the "nervi" orticket-of-leave man became so overbearing that it took half a company ofNational Guards with fixed bayonets to convey him to the "gendarmerie,"and from thence, after due committal, to the gloomy prison-house ofMonsieur le Duc, from which he had been but three hours released. He hadstruggled gallantly against bayonet prick and rifle butt. The escort,amateurs at this kind of work, had pitied the few wardens who musthandle such a desperado.
But when the first policeman appeared he merely bade the "nervi" lay histhumbs together, and in an instant he was leading the formidable warriorwhither he would as submissive and obedient as a child. Calvi was calledand came hastily in, donning a uniform coat, and leaving a half-playedgame of "dames" behind him.
He examined the order of the new Procureur. The stamp was as usual. Thesignature mattered nothing to Calvi, who looked up at the rioter with akind of reproach.
"Number 333," he said, with severity, "if you had told us that we wereto be honoured with your custom so soon again, you would have saved usthe trouble of whitewashing your cell. Take care not to overturn thematerials which have been left, make yourself as comfortable as you canto-night, and you can do the rest of the work to-morrow. Good night,gentlemen of the National Guard!"
He should have said "citizens," and every man knew it; but after all hewas a miserable child of the Isle of Despots, and besides, no citizen,however loyal, objects to being called a gentleman once in a way.
Keller gave me work to do occasionally. I drafted proclamations and,after rounding the sentences to make them more sonorous, I carried themto the Communal printing office, which did not differ from otherprinting offices, save that, in the absence of a master, each printerlounged and smoked about the cases, or took himself off to the nearestgrog-shop in the intervals of labour. Often I had to work Keller Bey'sname for all it was worth, and threaten a guard and the Bastille ofAramon before I could get anything done.
Sometimes, during my long hours of waiting at the printing office of theCommune, I strolled up to the Aramon station. Only a stray lamp-cleanersat with his legs dangling from the platform and spat upon the quicklyrusting rails, looking over his shoulder occasionally to throw a remarkto the single Garde National, who, though on duty, had laid his rifleand cartridge-belt upon a luggage-barrow, sought out a pile of "returnedempty" sacks of coarse jute, arranged these to his mind, and finally hadlaid himself down on them, only rolling over occasionally to refill hispipe or to wheel his couch into a shady place or one more convenient fora friendly gossip. On the whole this was the man I liked best. His"relief," a burly fellow from the Hard Stone Qu
arries above the town,calmly divested himself of his coat, wrapped his feet in his cloak, drewhis coat loosely over him, put his head on his knapsack, and slept hiswatch out on the green velvet cushions of the first-class waiting-room.
Above, the man really responsible, the station-master of AramonJunction, was supposed to be busying himself with a report of thereopening of the line between Lyons and Marseilles. This news had beenbrought to Keller Bey by my friend of the travelling bed on the luggagetruck. He considered it hard that Monsieur Weyse never came down topatrol the platform and pass the time of day. He yearned for society,and one of the comfortable arm-chairs in the station-master's room wouldhave appealed to him strongly. It was the unseen official's own fault ifa man so naturally companionable as he of the luggage-barrow were drivenby neglect to prefer a complaint against him.
The expanse of empty quays and innumerable parallels of iron railspreyed on his spirits. He tired of the man who cleaned lamps and satupon the stone parapet. He had already heard all his opinions, knewwhere he was going to place his oaths, and scented his grotesque andimproper anecdotes afar off--with a sense of loathing because, inaddition to all, the lamp-man spat with a regularity and vigoursingularly disgustful to a Frenchman, who does not use his tobacco inthe "plug" form.
I was sent to interview the station-master as to the famous report. Ifound him comfortably ensconced at his fireside, his legs embracing oneside and the other of the hearth, a huge pile of the complete works ofVictor Hugo, the Brussels edition, on a chair by his side. He wasfathoms deep in the third volume of "Les Miserables." I never saw a manmore enraptured nor one more enviable. I stood and looked at him, abroad, beefy man with a shrewd Scottish countenance. His uniformed coatand gold-broidered cap were neatly placed on a chair behind him. But theman himself, in a long blouse drawn well above his knees, so that hemight feel the comforting of the fire, continued his reading without apause, stirring the logs occasionally with his toe.
I was sorry to interrupt him, but I was resolved to make a friend, forhere was a man with a set of Hugo. I had already been at the MunicipalLibrary, but there, the collection dating entirely from the times of theEmpire, it of course contained nothing of Hugo's later than "Hernani."
"Your servant, sir!"
Already at a mere waft of my entrance he had sprung to his feet and laiddown his book.
"You take me a little by surprise--ah--from Keller Bey? Are you aCommunard, young man?"
I reassured him. Keller Bey's family lived with my father across thewater in Languedoc. I had been captured and had given my parole, but Iwas no partisan. I acted as occasional secretary to Keller Bey, that wasall.
He shook his head sorrowfully, for I think the verdancy of my youthappealed to him.
"Do not run with the wolves too long or the wolf-hunters may not stop toask the difference. There is a fable about that--which I have readsomewhere--in Perrault or La Fontaine. Take back your parole and get outof Aramon. All this foolishness will go like that----" (he snapped hisfinger and thumb in the air), "and I only hope that I shall have time toread Hugo once through before I have again to think of a train everyfive minutes pouring north and south, east and west, through AramonJunction!"
I put the question of the report as delicately as possible. I haverarely seen a Frenchman laugh more boisterously.
"But I have made no report. Why should I? I have received none andwritten none. The wires are cut in all directions. I have not atelegraphist on the place. There are my files if you want to look.Everything is going by the branch lines on the other side, but even ofthat I know only what I can see from my bedroom window, the white steamof trains trailing off among the green woods, and sometimes the dullrumble of a heavily laden goods convoy crossing a bridge. Of positiveknowledge concerning railway affairs I have none. I sit and read Hugoand wait for the end of things. The old life will come back soon enough.Meanwhile I am earning my salary, and when traffic opens a pretty sumwill be owing to me on the books of the company.
"See here," he said, chuckling, "this is my only report. I will write itbefore your eyes."
He pointed to a folio which lay open with the day and date, but all elseblank. He took a pen and wrote:
"As yesterday--no change. Guards--Caspar and Nolli. Both quiet.Messenger from Communal Government to ask about a report I am supposedto be making. Exhibit this."
"There you are--you can copy that if you like. I give you my word ofhonour that is all the report I ever write, and that is just enough toprove me on the spot, able for duty, and to claim my pay!"
I told Monsieur Weyse that I would not trouble him further. I shouldexplain the foolish rumour to Keller Bey, and in all things he mightcount upon me. At the same time _if_ there happened to be any volume ofHugo he was not using----! Well, he might imagine my gratitude.
He sprang to his feet with a kind of smothered whoop and began to delveamong the pile which occupied the chair and slopped over upon the floor.
"Here--here," he explained, "take the first two volumes of "LesMiserables." It is the best of all. I shall read faster than you, for Ihave nothing else to do, and I keep it up far into the night. Why, myfriend, if you come to-morrow, I shall have the third volume ready foryou. No, no, don't thank me, but go instead and get your head clear ofthis noose. This Communist Aramon is going to be no safe place to playunpaid secretary in after a week or two. Those white wreaths of smokeagainst the Cevennes tell me that. The Company and the Government areworking together over there, and when they are ready--it will be goodnot to be here and in your shoes!"
"But, Monsieur Weyse, you will be here!"
"Ah, that is different! I am a lonely man, and a servant in the way ofhis duty. Nothing can come amiss to me. Even if either side fortifiesthe junction buildings--why, I am the station-master acting for theCompany. I sit and write my report once a day, and for the rest I readHugo. Nothing is more simple. But as for you, take an old man's word.You are better anywhere than where you are!"