CHAPTER XXX. A WARNING.
The day was breaking when I was up and stirring, resolving to visit thepickets before De Beauvais awoke; for even still the tone of ridicule heassumed was strong before me. I passed stealthily through the room wherehe was still sleeping; the faint light streamed through the half-closedshutters, and fell upon a face so pale, so haggard, and so worn, that Istarted back in horror. How altered was he, indeed, from what I had seenhim first! The cheek once ruddy with the flush of youth was now pinchedand drawn in; the very lips were bloodless, as if not illness alone, butlong fasting from food, had pressed upon him. His hair, too, which usedto fall upon his shoulders and on his neck in rich and perfumed locks,silky and delicate as a girl's, was now tangled and matted, and hungacross his face and temples wild and straggling. Even to his hands hischanged condition was apparent, for they were torn and bleeding; whilein the attitude of sleep, you could trace the heavy unconscious slumberof one utterly worn out and exhausted. His dress was of the coarse stuffthe peasants wear in their blouses; and even that seemed old and worn.What strange career had brought him down to this I could not think; forpoor as all seemed about him, his well-stocked purse showed that hiscostume was worn rather for disguise than necessity.
Such was my first thought; my second, more painful still, recurred toher he loved, by whom he was perhaps beloved in turn. Oh! if anythingcan add to the bitter smart of jealousy, it is the dreadful convictionthat she for whom our heart's best blood would flow to insure onehour of happiness, has placed her whole life's fortune on the veriestchance,--bestowing her love on one whose life gives no guarantee for thefuture,--no hope, no pledge, that the world's wildest schemes ofdaring and ambition are not dearer to his eyes than all her charms andaffections. How does our own deep devotion come up before us contrastedwith this! and how, in the consciousness of higher motives and moreennobling thoughts, do we still feel inferior to him who, if poor in allbesides, is rich in her love!
Such envious feelings filled my heart as I looked on him; and with slow,sad step I moved on, when by accident I came against a chair, and threwit down. The noise awoke him, and with a spring he was on his legs, anddrawing a pistol from his bosom, cried out,--
"Ha! what is 't? Why, Burke, it 's you! What hour is it?"
"Not four yet. I 'm sorry to have disturbed you, De Beauvais; but thechair here--"
"Yes, yes; I placed it so last night. I felt so very heavy that I couldnot trust myself with waking to a slight noise. Where to, so early? Ah!these pickets; I forgot." And with that he lay down again, and before Ileft the house was fast asleep once more.
Some trifling details of duty detained me at one or two of the outposts,and it was beyond my usual time when I turned homeward. I had but justreached the broad alley that leads to the foot of the great terrace,when I saw a figure before me hastening on towards the chateau. Theflutter of the dress showed it to be a woman; and then the thoughtflashed on me,--it was Mademoiselle de Meudon. Yes, it was her step; Iknew it well. She had left the place thus early to meet De Beauvais.
Without well knowing what I did, I had increased my speed, and was nowrapidly overtaking her, when the noise of my footsteps on the groundmade her turn about and look back. I stopped short suddenly. Anindistinct sense of something culpable on my part in thus pursuing herflitted across my mind, and I could not move. There she stood, too,motionless; but for a second or two only, and then beckoned to me withher hand. I could scarcely trust my eyes, nor did I dare to stir tillshe had repeated the motion twice or thrice.
As I drew near, I remarked that her eyes were red with weeping, and herface pale as death. For a moment she gazed steadfastly at me, and then,with a voice whose accent I can never forget, she said,--
"And you, too, the dearest friend of my own Charles, whose very deathbedspoke of loyalty to him, how have you been drawn from your allegiance?"
I stood amazed and astounded, unable to utter a word in reply, when sheresumed,--
"For them there is reason, too: they lived, or their fathers did, inthe sunshine of the old Monarchy; wealth, rank, riches, power,--all weretheirs. But you, who came amongst us with high hopes of greatness,where others have earned them on the field of battle,--whose youth isa guarantee that base and unworthy thoughts should form no part of hismotives, and whose high career began under the very eyes of him, theidol of every soldier's heart,--oh I why turn from such a path as this,to dark and crooked ways, where low intrigue and plot and treachery arebetter weapons than your own stout heart and your own bright sword?"
"Hear me, I pray you," said I, bursting into impatience,--"hear me butone word, and know that you accuse me wrongfully. I have no part in, norhave I knowledge of, any treason."
"Oh, speak not thus to me! There are those who may call their acts byhigh-sounding titles, and say, 'We are but restoring our own sovereignsto the land they owned.' But you are free to think and feel; no prestigeof long years blinds your reason or obstructs your sense of right."
"Once more I swear, that though I can but guess at where your suspicionspoint, my faith is now as true, my loyalty as firm, as when I pledgedmyself at your dear brother's side to be a soldier."
"Then why have you mixed yourself with their intrigues? Why are youalready suspected? Why has Madame Bonaparte received orders to omit yourname in all the invitations to the chateau?"
"Alas! I know not. I learn now, for the first time that suspicion everattached to me."
"It is said, too,--for already such things are spoken of,--that you knowthat dreadful man whose very presence is contamination. Oh! does it notseem like fate that his dark path should traverse every portion of mydestiny?"
The sobs that burst from her at these words seemed to rend her verybosom. "They say," continued she, while her voice trembled with strongemotion,--"they say he has been here."
"I know not of whom you speak," said I, as a cold chill ran through myblood.
"Mehee de la Touche," replied she, with an effort.
"I never heard of him till now; the very name is unknown to me."
"Thank God for this!" muttered she between her teeth. "I thought,perhaps, that De Beauvais had made you known to each other."
"No; De Beauvais never introduced me, save to some friends of his oneevening at a supper, several months back; and only one of them have Iever seen since,--an Abbe, d'Ervan. And, indeed, if I am guilty of anybreach of duty, I did not think the reproach was to come from you."
The bitterness of these last words was wrung from me in a moment ofwounded pride.
"How! what mean you?" said she, impetuously. "No one has dared to callmy fidelity into question, nor speak of me as false to those who cherishand protect me."
"You mistake my meaning," said I, sadly and slowly. Then hesitating howfar I should dare allude to De Beauvais's affection, I stopped, whensuddenly her face became deeply flushed, and a tear started to her eye.
"Alas, she loves him!" said I to my heart, and a sickness like deathpassed over me. "Leave me, leave me quickly!" cried she. "I see personswatching us from the terrace." And with that she moved hastily ontowards the chateau, and I turned into one of the narrow walks that ledinto the wood.
Two trains of thought struggled for mastery in my mind: how had I becomesuspected? how should I wipe out the stain upon my honor?
There was not an incident of my life since my landing in France I didnot call to mind; and yet, save in the unhappy meeting with De Beauvais,I could not see the slightest probability that even malevolence couldattach anything to my reputation. "From d'Ervan, it is true, I heardmore than once opinions that startled me; less, however, by anythingdirect in their meaning, than that they were totally new and strange.And yet the abbe, I had every reason to believe, was a friend of thepresent Government; at least it was evident he was on terms of closeintimacy with Monsieur Savary.
"De Beauvais must clear up some of these doubts for me," thought I; "hemust inform me more particularly as to those to whom he introduced me. Ishall endeavor to learn, too, s
omething of their schemes, and thus guardmyself against the mere chance of suspicion; for unquestionably heis not in ignorance of the movement, whatever it be." And with suchintentions I hurried onwards, eager to reach my quarters.
As I entered my room, a low, heavy sob broke on my ear; I started backwith surprise. It was De Beauvais, who sat, his head buried in hishands, leaning on the table.
"Ha!" said he, springing up, and passing his hand hurriedly across hiseyes, "so soon back! I scarcely expected you."
"It is past ten o'clock,--a full hour later than my usual return."
"Indeed!" rejoined he, with an air of impertinent surprise. "Sothen your pickets have been arresting and detaining some poor devilsgathering fagots or acorns? or have you unfathomed the depth of thisterrible plot your Prefet de Police has become insane about?"
"Neither," said I, affecting a careless tone. "The Government of theConsul is sufficiently strong to make men's minds easy on that score.Whatever intrigues are at work, they are as little likely to escape hiskeen eye as their perpetrators are, when taken, the fire of a grenadiercompany."
"_Ma foi!_ sir, you speak confidently," replied he, in an accent of pridetotally different from his former tone. "And yet I have heard of personsjust as confident, too, who afterwards confessed they had been mistaken.But perhaps it seems less strange to you that a sous-lieutenant ofartillery should rule the destinies of France, than that the King of thecountry should resume the throne of his ancestors."
"Take care, De Beauvais, with whom you speak. I warn you; and be assuredI 'll not be trifled with. One word more, and I put you under arrest."
"Not here, surely," replied he, in a low and searching voice,--"nothere. Let us walk out into the park. Let it be in the great alley, or onthe terrace yonder; or, better still, let the capture take place in thewood; but do not let your loyalty violate the hospitality of your home."
"Forgive me, I pray; I knew not what I said. You tempted me sorely,though. Think but for a moment, De Beauvais, how I stand here, and letyour own heart judge me. I am an alien,--a friendless stranger. Therelives not one in all the length and breadth of France who would raisea finger, or speak one word, to save me were my head in peril. Mysword and my fidelity are all my hope; that both should remain pure andunblemished is all my wish. The grade I have I owe to him--"
"Great cause for gratitude, truly!" he broke in. "The chief _eleve_ ofthe Polytechnique is made a sous-lieutenant of cavalry, with functionsof a sergeant of the gendarmerie, with orders to stop all travellers,and search their pockets. Shame on it! It was not thus the rightfulsovereigns of France regarded those who wore their epaulettes; not thusdid they esteem the soldier's part. Think, for a second, what you are,and then reflect what you might be. Cold and unimpassioned as you callyourself, I know your heart better. There lives not one who treasures ahigher ambition in his breast than you. Ah! your eyes sparkle already.Think, then, I say, what a career opens before you, if you have courageto embrace it. It 's a great game that enables a man to spring fromsous-lieutenant to colonel of a regiment. Come, Burke! I can have noreason, save your welfare, to press these considerations on you. Whatare you writing there?"
"A report to the Prefet de Police. I see now, however late it is, theunworthiness of the part I 've acted, in remaining in a service where I've listened to statements such as these. I shall ask to have mygrade withdrawn, and be reduced to the ranks; there, perhaps, I may bepermitted to carry a soldier's musket without a stain upon my honor."
"You can do better, sir," interrupted he, as his face grew purple withpassion, and his eyes flashed fire, "far better: call up your dragoonsyonder, and place me, where you threatened, under arrest; forward yourreport to the minister, that Henri de Beauvais, Marquis et Pair deFrance when such things were, has been taken with the 'Croix de St.Louis' and the cordon in his possession." Here he took from his bosomthe decoration, and waved it above his head. "Add, too, that he cameprepared to tempt your loyalty with this." He drew forth at the words aparchment document, and dashed it on the table before me. "There, sir,read it; it is the King's own handwriting,--your brevet of colonel toa regiment of the Gardes. Such proofs of your devotion can scarcely gounrewarded. They may raise you to the rank of police spy. There is alady yonder, too, who should also share in your elevation, as she doesin your loyal sentiments; Mademoiselle de Meudon may be too quick foryou. Lose no time, sir; such chances as these are not the fruit ofevery day. After all, I can scarcely go to the guillotine under betterauspices than with my cousin and my friend as my betrayers. Mayhap, too,they 'll do you the honor to make you mount guard beside the scaffold.Such an occasion to display your devotion should not escape you,--Davidfound it profitable to catch the expiring agonies of his own friends, aswith easel and brush he sat beside the guillotine: the hint should notbe lost."
The insulting emphasis with which he spoke the last words cut me tothe very heart, and I stood speechless before him, trembling like acriminal.
"Let us part, De Beauvais," said I, at length, as I held my hand towardshim. "Let us say adieu to each other, and forever. I can forgive allyou have said to me, far better than I could myself had I listened toyour persuasions. What may be honorable and just in you, would be blackingratitude and dark treachery in me. I shall now endeavor to forget wehave ever met, and once more, good-by!"
"You are right," replied he, after a pause of some seconds, and in atone of great sadness; "we never should have met. Adieu!"
"One word more, De Beauvais. I find that I have been suspected of sometreasonable intercourse; that even here I am watched and spied upon.Tell me, I beseech you, before you go, from what quarter comes thisdanger, that I may guard against it."
"In good truth, you give me credit for quicker perceptions than Ihave any right to. How so loyal a gentleman should lie under such animputation I cannot even guess."
"Your sneers shall not provoke me. The fact is as I state it; and ifyou will not help me to the discovery, tell me, at least, who are thepersons to whom you introduced me formerly at Beauvilliers's?"
"Very excellent company! I trust none of them have cheated you atecarte."
"Pray, have done with jesting, and answer me. Who is your Abbe?"
"_Ma foi_, he is the Abbe, d'Ervan. What part of France he comes from,who are his family, friends, and resources,--are all questions I havenever thought proper to ask him; possibly because I am not so scrupulouson the score of my acquaintances as you are. He is a very clever,amusing, witty person; knows almost every one; has the entree into everyhouse in the Faubourg St. Germain; can compose a couplet and sing it;make a mayonnaise or a madrigal better than any man I know; and, infact, if he were one of these days to be a minister of France, I shouldnot be so very much surprised as you appear this moment at my notknowing more about him. As to the other, the Russian secretary,--or spy,if you like the phrase better, he was unlucky enough to have one of hiscouriers robbed by a party of brigands, which scandal says were sent outfor the purpose by Monsieur de Talleyrand. His secret despatcheswere opened and read; and as they were found to implicate the RussianGovernment in certain intrigues carrying on, the Czar had only onecourse open, which was to recall the secretary and disavow his wholeproceedings. The better to evince his displeasure, I hear they haveslit his nose, and sent him to pass the winter at Tobolsk. Lastly, theprefet. What shall I say of him, save that he was a prefet in the South,and wants to be one again? His greatest endeavors in any cause will beto pledge its success in Burgundy, or, if you wish, drink the downfallof its enemy; and as to his enthusiasm, he cares a devilish deal morefor a change of weather than a change of dynasty, particularly in thetruffle season, or when the vines are ripening. Such are the trulydangerous associates you have kept company with. It now only remains tospeak of my humble self, whose history, I need scarcely say, is far moreat your service than worth the hearing. Are you satisfied?"
"Quite so, as regards me; by no means so, however, as to your fate.Short as our intimacy has been, I have seen enough of you to knowthat qua
lities like yours should not be wasted in a mad or hopelessenterprise."
"Who told you it was either?" interrupted he, impetuously. "Who dares tosay that the rule of a Usurper is more firmly placed than the prestigeof a Monarchy that goes back to Hugues Capet? Come, come! I will notdiscuss these questions with you, nor have I temper now left to do so.Give me the countersign to pass the sentry, and let us part."
"Not in anger, though, De Beauvais."
"Not in friendship, sir," replied he, proudly, as he waved back, withhis, my proffered hand. "Adieu!" said he, in a softened tone, as hemoved from the room; and then, turning quickly round, he added, "We maymeet again hereafter, and scarcely can do so on equal terms. If fortunestand by you I must be a beggar; should I win, yours is indeed a sorrylot. When that time comes, let him with whom the world goes best notforget the other. Good-by!" And with that he turned away, and left thehouse.
I watched him as he strode along the silent alleys, careless and free asthough he had no cause for fear, till he disappeared in the dark wood:and then I sat down at the door to think over our interview. Never hadmy heart felt more depressed. My own weakness in having ever admittedthe intimacy of men whose dangerous designs were apparent had totallyundermined the strong principle of rectitude I should have relied uponin such a trial, and on which I could have thrown myself for support.What had I to guide me after all, save my devotion to the cause ofBonaparte himself? The prejudices of education, the leanings of familyopinion, the inclinations of friends, exist not for the alien. He has tochoose his allegiance; it is not born with him. His loyalty is not thegrowth of a hundred different sympathies, that have twined round hisheart in childhood and grown with him to manhood; speaking of home andinfancy, of his own native streams and mountains, of a land that was hisfather's. No! with him it is not a conviction,--it is but a feeling.
Such was the substance of my reverie; and as I arose and strolled outinto the park, it was with a deeply-uttered vow to be true to him andhis fortunes whose name first lit the spark of ambition in my heart, andthrough weal or woe to devote myself to him.