Read Bonnie Prince Charlie : a Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden Page 7


  CHAPTER VII: Mother!

  When Jeanne, after accomplishing her errands the next time she went out,entered Madam Vipon's, she found Ronald and Malcolm awaiting her.

  "You have told my mother?" the former asked eagerly as she entered.

  "Yes, I have told her, and if I had been an angel from heaven, with aspecial message to her, the poor lady could not have looked more happy."

  "And you have been like an angel to us!" Ronald exclaimed, taking herhand. "How can I thank you for your goodness?"

  "For shame, sir!" Jeanne said, smiling and colouring as Ronald, in hisdelight, threw his arms round her and kissed her. "Remember I am a laysister."

  "I could not have helped it," Ronald said, "if you had been the ladysuperior. And now," he went on eagerly, "is all arranged? See, I havebrought a ladder of silk rope, light and thin, but quite strong enough tobear her."

  "You take all for granted then, sir. You know I said I would take yourmessage, but that I would not engage to meddle further in it."

  "I know you said so; but I was sure that having gone so far you would dothe rest. You will, won't you, Jeanne?"

  "I suppose I must," Jeanne said; "for what with the countess on one sideand you on the other, I should get no peace if I said no. Well, then, itis all arranged. At eleven o'clock tonight you are to be on the terrace,and you can expect her there. If she does not come you will know thatsomething has occurred to prevent her, and she will come the followingnight at the same hour."

  Jeanne took the silken cords and wound them round her, under her laysister's robe, and then, with a kindly nod at Ronald, and an injunctionto be as noiseless as a mouse in climbing up the terrace, and above allnot to raise his voice in speaking to his mother, she tripped away acrossthe street to the convent.

  Malcolm and Ronald sallied out from Tours before the city gates wereclosed at sunset, and sat down on the slope which rises from the otherside of the river and waited till it was time to carry the plan intooperation. Gradually the lights disappeared from the various windows andthe sounds which came across the water ceased, and by ten o'clockeverything was profoundly still. They had, in the course of theafternoon, hired a boat, saying they were going out for a night'sfishing. This they had moored a short distance below the town, on theside of the river where they now were. They now made their way to it androwed quietly across the stream; then they left it and waded through thewater, which flowed knee deep at the foot of the walls.

  Although Tours was still a walled town the habit of keeping sentry intime of peace had long since died out, and they had no fear, at thathour, of discovery. There was no moon, but the night was bright andclear, and they had no difficulty in finding that part of the wall whichnow formed the terrace of the convent.

  They were provided with a rope knotted at every foot, and with a grapnelattached to one end. At the second attempt this caught on the parapet ofthe wall, and Ronald at once climbed it and stood on the terrace, where,a minute later, he was joined by Malcolm. The convent itself could not beseen, for a screen of trees at the foot of the wall shut it off from theview of people on the opposite bank of the river. They waited quietlyuntil a sudden peal of the bells of the numerous churches announced thatit was the hour. Then they moved towards the steps leading down into thegarden. A minute later a figure was seen approaching. Malcolm fell back,and Ronald advanced towards it. As the countess approached she held ourher arms, exclaiming:

  "My boy, my boy!" and with a cry of "Mother!" Ronald sprang forward intoher embrace.

  For a short time not a word was spoken, and then the countess murmured:

  "My God, I thank thee for this great happiness. And now, my son," shesaid, recovering herself, "tell me everything. First, have you news ofyour father?"

  "Alas, no!" Ronald said. "Nothing has been heard of him since the fatalday when he was seized; but I am convinced that he is still alive, andsince I have found you, surely I shall be able to find him."

  "Who is that with you, Ronald?"

  "That is Malcolm Anderson; it is to him I owe everything. He carried meoff and took me away with him to Scotland the day my father was arrested.He has been my best friend ever since, and it is he who brought me hereto you."

  The countess advanced to Malcolm.

  "My son has told me that we owe everything to you, my brave Malcolm!" shesaid, holding out her hand. "I guessed that it was to you that my husbandhad confided the care of the child when I learned that it haddisappeared. I remember what confidence he had in your devotion, and howhe confided everything to you."

  "He was like a brother to me, madam," Malcolm replied; "and glad indeedam I that I have been able to befriend his son and to bring him back toyou a gentleman who will be an honour even to his father's name andyours."

  "And now let us sit down here," the countess said, taking a seat upon abench. "It gets light very early, and you must not stay after twoo'clock, and there is so much for me to hear."

  For the next two hours Ronald sat holding his mother's hand, while hetold her the story of his life. "And now, mother," he said, when he hadconcluded, "we have but an hour left, for it has just struck one, and wehave not said a word yet about the principal thing of all. How are we toobtain your freedom? Cannot you arrange to escape with us? I do not, ofcourse, mean tonight, for we have nothing prepared, and, moreover, Ipromised Jeanne that there should be no attempt at escape; but we cancome again when everything is ready. We shall, of course, need a disguisefor you, for there will be a hot pursuit when your escape is known. Butwe might manage to reach the coast and cross over to England, and so makeour way north."

  "No, my son," the countess said. "I have thought it over in every waysince I knew you were here, and I am resolved to remain here. Were I tofly, the last hope that your father might be freed would be lost. Myfather would be more than ever incensed against him and me; and,moreover, although that is but a minor consideration, there would be nohope whatever of your ever recovering the rank and estate to which youare entitled. No, I am resolved to wait here, at any rate so long as myfather lives. At his death doubtless there will be some change, for asheiress to his estates my existence must be in some way recognized, andmy family may be enabled to obtain my release when his powerfulopposition is removed; if not, it will be time to take the idea of flightinto consideration; till then I remain here. Now that I have seen you,now that I know you as you are, for I can just make out your face by thelight of the stars, I shall be as near contentment and happiness as I canbe till I meet your father again. In the meantime your good friend herecan advise you far better than I can as to what your course had betterbe. If you can obtain any high influence, use it for obtaining yourfather's release. If it be accompanied by a sentence of exile from Franceit matters not, so that he is freed. You can then return here, and I willgladly fly with you to join him in Scotland."

  Malcolm now rose from his seat and left mother and son half an hourtogether. When two o'clock struck he returned to them.

  "There is the signal," the countess said, rising, "and now we must part."She had already refused to accede to Ronald's entreaty that she wouldmeet him there again.

  "No, my son, we have been permitted to meet this once, but we must nottempt fortune again. Sooner or later something would be sure to occurwhich would lead to discovery, and bring ruin upon all our plans. It ishard to say no, and to refuse the chance of seeing you again now that wehave come together, but I am fully resolved that I will not risk it."

  "We will see you safe up the ladder, mother," Ronald said. "It is no easymatter to climb up a rope ladder swinging loosely."

  "No, I discovered that in descending," the countess said; "but if youcome with me you must take off your boots--the print of a man'sfootstep in the garden would ruin us all; and mind, not a word must bespoken when we have once left the terrace."

  Taking off their boots they accompanied her through the garden. There wasa last passionate embrace at the foot of the ladder, then the countessmounted it while they held it steady. Dir
ectly she entered the window sheundid the fastening of the rope inside and let the ladder drop down tothem. Five minutes later Ronald descended the rope into the river.Malcolm shifted the grapnel so that it caught only on the edge of theparapet and could be shaken off from below when the strain on the ropewas removed, then he slid down to Ronald's side. A sharp jerk broughtdown the grapnel, and they returned along the edge of the river as theyhad come, crossed in the boat, and waited for morning.

  They waited two days longer in Tours in order that they might receive,through Jeanne from the countess, a list of the noble families to whichshe was related, with notes as to those persons of whom she had seen mostbefore her marriage, and who she believed would be most disposed to exerttheir influence on her behalf.

  "Jeanne," Ronald said, "I am troubled that I do not know what I can do toshow you how grateful I am. I should so like to give you some souvenir,but what can I do--you could not wear brooches, or earrings, ortrinkets."

  "That I could not, monsieur," Jeanne broke in with a smile; "and if Icould I would not accept them from you. I have done what I have donebecause I pitied your mother and you, and I am content that if I havebroken the rules I have done it with a good purpose."

  "Well, Jeanne," Ronald said, "you may not be a lay sister all your life;you have taken no vows that will bind you for ever, and I have no doubtthat the lady superior can absolve you from your engagements should youat any time wish to go back to the world; if so, and if I am still inFrance, I will come to dance at your wedding, and will promise you aspretty a necklace and earrings as are to be found in Touraine."

  "Very well, that is a bargain," Jeanne said laughing; "and it is notimpossible, young sir, that some day I may hold you to your promise, foronly last market day I met my father, and he spoke more kindly to me thanhe used to, and even said that he missed me; and I hear that the millerhas found someone who will put up with him for the sake of his money. Ishouldn't be surprised if, when that comes off, father wants me homeagain; but I sha'n't go directly he asks me, you may be sure, but shallbargain that if there be again any question of a husband it will be forme to decide and not him."

  The next day Ronald and his companion started for Paris. They were highlygratified with the success which had attended them, and Ronald felt hiswhole life brightened now that he had found the mother who had been solong lost to him. On arriving at Paris they found that Colonel Hume'sregiment had returned to the capital. It was not expected that therewould at present be any further fighting on the frontier, and two orthree of the Scotch regiments had been brought back. Ronald at oncecalled on Colonel Hume and related to him the success which had attendedthe first portion of his undertaking.

  "I congratulate you indeed," Colonel Hume said. "I own that I thoughtyour enterprise was a hopeless one, for it seemed to me impossible thatyou should be able to obtain an interview with a lady closely imprisonedin a convent. Why, Anderson, it is plain now that your talents have beenlost, and that you ought to have been a diplomatist instead of wastingyour time as a soldier. The way you carried out your plan was indeedadmirable, and I shall really begin to think that Ronald will yetsucceed; and now, my young friend, what do you mean to do next?"

  "Would it be possible, sir, to ascertain where my father is confined?"

  "I think not, my lad," the colonel said gravely. "In addition to the fouror five prisons in Paris there are a score of others in different partsof France. The names of the prisoners in each are known only to thegovernors; to all others within the walls they exist as numbers only. Thegovernors themselves are sworn to secrecy, and even if we could get atone or two of them, which would be difficult enough, we could hope for nomore. Nor would it be much satisfaction to you merely to know in whichprison your father is lying, for it is a very different matter tocommunicate with a prisoner in one of the royal fortresses to passing amessage to a lady detained in a convent. I can see nothing for you but tofollow the example of your mother and to practise patience, so conductingyourself as to gain friends and make a name and influence, so that atyour grandfather's death we may bring as strong a pressure as possible tobear upon the king."

  "How old is my grandfather?" Ronald asked.

  "He is a man about sixty."

  "Why, he may live twenty years yet!" Ronald exclaimed bitterly.

  "Do not look at the worst side of the question," Colonel Hume repliedwith a smile. "But he may live some years," he went on more gravely, "andin the meantime you must think what you had better do. I will tell you asa great secret, that it has been finally resolved that an expeditionshall sail this winter for Scotland, and fifteen thousand troops willassemble at Dunkirk under Marshal Saxe. Nothing could be more opportune.We are to form part of the expedition, with several other Scottishregiments. You are too young as yet for me to ask for a commission foryou, but if you like I will enroll you as a gentleman volunteer; in thisway you may have an opportunity of distinguishing yourself. I willintroduce you to the Chevalier, and it may be that if he succeeds ingaining the crown of Scotland, if not of England, he will himself askKing Louis as a personal favour to release and restore to him ColonelLeslie of Glenlyon, who fought bravely with him in '15. If the expeditionfails, and we get back alive to France, I will then obtain for you acommission in the regiment, and we can carry out our plan as we arranged.What do you say to that?"

  "I thank you greatly, sir, and accept your offer most gratefully. I seethat I am powerless to do anything for my father now, and your plan givesat least a prospect of success. In any case nothing will give me so muchdelight as to serve with the regiment he formerly commanded, and under sokind a friend as yourself."

  "That is settled then," Colonel Hume said; "and now about outfit. Agentleman volunteer wears the uniform of the officers of the regiment,and indeed is one in all respects except that he draws no pay. My pursewill be at your disposal. Do not show any false modesty, my lad, aboutaccepting help from me. Your father would have shared his last penny withme had I needed it."

  "I thank you heartily, colonel, for your offer, and should it benecessary I will avail myself of it, but at present I have ample funds.Malcolm carried off with me a bag with a hundred louis, and up to the daywhen I landed in France these had never been touched. I have eighty ofthem still remaining, which will provide my outfit and my maintenance fora long time to come."

  "There is another advantage in your being a volunteer, rather than on thelist of officers, Ronald; in that if it is necessary at any time, youcan, after a word with me, lay aside your uniform and go about youraffairs as long as you choose without question, which would be hard to doif you belonged regularly to the regiment."

  At the end of a week Ronald had procured his uniform, and was presentedby the colonel to the officers of the regiment as Ronald Leslie, the sonof an old friend of his, who was joining the regiment as a gentlemanvolunteer. Malcolm joined only in the capacity of Ronald's servant. Itwas painful to the lad that his old friend and protector should assumesuch a relation towards him, but Malcolm laughed at his scruples.

  "My dear Ronald," he said, "I was your father's servant, and yet hisfriend. Why should I not act in the same capacity to you? As to theduties, they are so light that, now I do not belong to the regiment, myonly difficulty will be to kill time. There is nothing to do save topolish up your arms and your equipment. Your horse will be looked afterby a trooper so long as you are with the regiment. I shall call you inthe morning, get your cup of chocolate, and prepare your dinner when youdo not dine abroad, carry your messages when you have any messages tosend, and escort you when you go about any business in which it ispossible that a second sword would be of use to you. As I have said, theonly trouble will be to know what to do with myself when you do not wantme."

  It was now the end of August, and for the next four months Ronald workedhard at drill. He soon became a general favourite with the officers. Thefact that his name was Leslie, and that he was accompanied by Malcolm,who was known to many of the old soldiers as being devoted to theirformer colonel and
as having in some strange way disappeared from theregiment at the same time, gave ground to a general surmise that Lesliewas the colonel's son.

  Malcolm himself, when questioned, neither denied nor acknowledged thefact, but turned it off with a joke and a laugh. He was soon as much athome in his old regiment as if he formed a part in it, and when notrequired by Ronald passed the greater part of his time with his formercomrades. As was natural, the opinion entertained by the men as toLeslie's identity was shared by the officers. The avoidance by Ronald ofany allusion to his family, his declining when he first came among themto say to which branch of the Leslies he belonged, and the decided mannerin which Colonel Hume, the first time the question was broached in hishearing in Ronald's absence, said that he begged no inquiries would bemade on that score; all he could assure them was that Leslie's father wasa gentleman of good family, and a personal friend of his own--put astop to all further questioning, but strengthened the idea that had gotabroad that the young volunteer was the son of Colonel Leslie.

  Early in January the 2d Scottish Dragoons marched for Dunkirk, wheretwenty thousand men assembled, while a large number of men of war andtransports were gathered in the port. One day, when Ronald was walking inthe street with Malcolm at his heels, the latter stepped up to him andtouched him.

  "Do you see that officer in the uniform of a colonel of the BlackMusketeers, in that group at the opposite corner; look at him well, forhe is your father's greatest enemy, and would be yours if he knew who youare; that is the Duke de Chateaurouge."

  Ronald gazed at the man who had exercised so evil an influence upon thefate of his parents. He was a tall dark man with a pointed moustache, andof from forty to forty-five years of age. His features were regular andhandsome; but in his thin straight eyebrows, the curl of his lips, and acertain supercilious drooping of the eyelids, Ronald read the evilpassions which rendered him so dangerous and implacable an enemy.

  "So that is the duke!" Ronald said when he had passed on. "I did not knowhe was a soldier."

  "He is an honorary colonel of the regiment, and only does duty when it iscalled on active service; but he served in it for some years as a youngman, and had the reputation of being a good soldier, though I know thathe was considered a harsh and unfeeling officer by the men who servedunder him. That is the man, Ronald, and if you could get six inches ofyour sword between his ribs it would go a good long way towards obtainingyour father's release; but I warn you he is said to be one of the bestswordsmen in France."

  "I care not how good a swordsmen he is," Ronald said hotly, "if I do butget a fair chance."

  "Don't do anything rash, Ronald; I have no fear about your swordsmanship,for I know in the last four months you have practised hard, and thatFrancois says that young as you are you could give a point to any officerin the regiment. But at present it were madness to quarrel with the duke;you have everything to lose and nothing to gain. If he killed you therewould be an end of you and your plans; if you killed him you would haveto fly the country, for a court favourite is not to be slain with as muchimpunity as a bourgeois, and equally would there be an end of all hope ofobtaining your father's release.

  "No, for the present you must be content to bide your time. Still it isas well for you to know your foe when you see him, and in the meantime goon frequenting the various schools of arms and learn every trick of thesword that is to be taught. Look!" he went on, as a group of mountedofficers rode down the street; "that is Marshal Saxe, one of the bestsoldiers in France, if not the best, and just as wild and reckless inprivate life as he is calm and prudent as a general."

  Ronald looked with some surprise at the great general. He had expected tosee a dashing soldier. He saw a man who looked worn and bent withdisease, and as if scarce strong enough to sit on his horse; but therewas still a fire in his eye, and as he uttered a joke to an officerriding next to him and joined merrily in the laugh, it was evident thathis spirit was untouched by the disease which had made a wreck of hisbody.

  A few days later a messenger arrived with the news that the French fleetfrom Brest had sailed, and had met the English fleet which had gone offin pursuit of it, and the coast of Kent was in consequence unguarded.Orders were instantly given that the troops should embark on board thetransports, and as fast as these were filled they set sail. Theembarkation of the cavalry naturally took longer time than that of theinfantry, and before the Scottish Dragoons had got their horses on boarda portion of the fleet was already out of sight.

  "Was there ever such luck!" Malcolm exclaimed, after assisting in gettingthe horses on board, a by no means easy task, as the vessel was rollingheavily at her mooring. "The wind is rising every moment, and blowingstraight into the harbour; unless I mistake not, there will be no sailingtonight."

  This was soon evident to all. Signals were made from ship to ship, freshanchors were let down, and the topmast housed. By midnight it was blowinga tremendous gale, which continued for three days. Several of thetransports dragged their anchors and were washed ashore, and messagesarrived from different parts of the coast telling of the wreck of many ofthose which had sailed before the storm set in.

  The portion of the fleet which had sailed had indeed been utterlydispersed by the gale. Many ships were lost, and the rest, shattered anddismantled, arrived at intervals at the various French ports. The blowwas too heavy to be repaired. The English fleet had again returned to thecoast, and were on the lookout to intercept the expedition, and as thiswas now reduced to a little more than half of its original strength nosurprise was felt when the plan was abandoned altogether.

  Marshal Saxe with a portion of the troops marched to join the army inFlanders, and the Scotch Dragoons were ordered to return to Paris for thepresent.

  For a year Ronald remained with the regiment in Paris. He had during thattime been introduced by Colonel Hume to several members of his mother'sfamily. By some of these who had known her before her marriage he waskindly received; but all told him that it would be hopeless to make anyefforts for the release of his father as long as the Marquis deRecambours remained alive and high in favour at court, and that anymovement in that direction would be likely to do harm rather than good.Some of the others clearly intimated to him that they considered that thecountess had, by making a secret marriage and defying her father'sauthority, forfeited all right to the assistance or sympathy of hermother's family.

  Twice Ronald travelled to Tours and sent messages to his mother throughJeanne, and received answers from the countess. She had, however, refusedto meet him again on the terrace, saying that in spite of the love shehad for him, and her desire to see him again, she was firmly resolved notto run the risk of danger to him and the failure of all their hopes, byany rash step.

  At the end of the summer campaign in Flanders Marshal Saxe returned toParis, and Colonel Hume one day took Ronald and introduced him to him,having previously interested the marshal by relating his history to him.The marshal asked Ronald many questions, and was much pleased with hisfrank manner and bearing.

  "You shall have any protection I can give you," the marshal said. "No manhas loved adventures more than I, nor had a fairer share of them, and mysympathies are altogether with you; besides, I remember your father well,and many a carouse have we had together in Flanders. But I am a soldier,you know, and though the king is glad enough to employ our swords infighting his enemies, we have but little influence at court. I promiseyou, however, that after the first great victory I win I will ask therelease of your father as a personal favour from the king, on the groundthat he was an old comrade of mine. I can only hope, for your sake, thatthe marquis, your grandfather, may have departed this world before thattakes place, for he is one of the king's prime favourites, and even therequest of a victorious general would go for little as opposed to hisinfluence the other way. And now, if you like, I will give you acommission in Colonel Hume's regiment. You have served for a year as avolunteer now, and younger men than you have received commissions."

  Ronald thanked the marshal mo
st heartily for his kind promise, but saidthat at present he would rather remain as a volunteer, because it gavehim greater freedom of action.

  "Perhaps you are right," the marshal said. "But at any rate you hadbetter abstain from attempting any steps such as Colonel Hume tells meyou once thought of for obtaining the release of your father. Successwill be all but impossible, and a failure would destroy altogether anyhopes you may have of obtaining his release from the king."

  It seemed that some of his mother's family with whom he had communicatedmust have desired to gain the favour of the favourite of the king byrelating the circumstances to him, for a short time after Ronald'sinterview with the marshal the marquis came up to Colonel Hume when hewas on duty in the king's antechamber, and, in the presence of a numberof courtiers, said to him:

  "So, Colonel Hume, I find that I have to thank you for harbouring in yourregiment an imposter, who claims to be my grandson. I shall know, sir,how to repay the obligation."

  "The gentleman in question is no imposter, marquis, as I have taken thepains to inform myself. And I am not aware of any reason why I should notadmit the son of a Scottish gentleman into my regiment, even though hehappen to be a grandson of yours. As to your threat, sir, as long as I domy duty to his majesty I fear the displeasure of no man."

  Two nights later, as Ronald was returning from dining with Colonel Humeand some of his officers, he was suddenly attacked in a narrow street bysix men. Malcolm was with him, for Colonel Hume had at once related tohim the conversation he had had with the marquis, and had warned him totake the greatest precautions.

  "He is perfectly capable of having you suddenly put out of his way by astab in the back, Ronald. And if there were anywhere for you to go Ishould advise you to leave Paris at once; but nowhere in France would yoube safe from him, and it would upset all your plans to return to Scotlandat present. However, you cannot be too careful."

  Ronald had related what had passed to Malcolm, who determined to watchmore carefully than ever over his safety, and never left his side when hewas outside the barracks.

  The instant the six men rushed out from a lane, at whose entrance alantern was dimly burning, Malcolm's sword was out, and before theassailants had time to strike a blow he had run the foremost through thebody.

  Ronald instantly recovered from his surprise and also drew. He was nownearly eighteen, and although he had not yet gained his full height hewas a match for most men in strength, while his constant exercise in theschool of arms had strengthened the muscle of his sword arm, until instrength as well as in skill he could hold his own against the bestswordsman in the regiment. The men were for a moment checked by the fallof their leader; but then seeing that they had opposed to them only oneman, and another whom they regarded as a lad, scarcely to be taken intoconsideration, they rushed upon them. They were quickly undeceived.Ronald parried the first blow aimed at him, and with his ripostestretched his opponent on the pavement, and then springing forward, aftera few rapid thrusts and parries ran the next through the shoulder almostat the same moment that Malcolm stretched another opponent on the ground.

  Terrified at the downfall of three of their number, while a fourth leanedagainst a door post disabled, the two remaining ruffians took to theirheels and fled at the top of their speed, the whole affair having lastedscarce a minute.

  "Tell your employer," Ronald said to the wounded man, "that I am not tobe disposed of so easily as he imagined. I should be only giving you whatyou deserve if I were to pass my sword through your body; but I disdainto kill such pitiful assassins except in self defence."

  The next morning Ronald communicated to Colonel Hume what had happened.

  "It's just as well, my young friend, that you are going to leave Paris. Ireceived orders half an hour ago for the regiment to march to thefrontier at once. That is the marquis's doing, no doubt. He thought toget rid of you last night and to punish me this morning; but he hasfailed both ways. You have defeated his cutthroats; I shall be heartilyglad to be at the front again, for I am sick of this idle life in Paris."