34. On the Eve of Battle.
Raoul was aroused from his sombre reflections by his host, who rushedinto the apartment crying out, "The Spaniards! the Spaniards!"
That cry was of such importance as to overcome all preoccupation. Theyoung men made inquiries and ascertained that the enemy was advancing byway of Houdin and Bethune.
While Monsieur d'Arminges gave orders for the horses to be made readyfor departure, the two young men ascended to the upper windows of thehouse and saw in the direction of Marsin and of Lens a large body ofinfantry and cavalry. This time it was not a wandering troop ofpartisans; it was an entire army. There was therefore nothing for themto do but to follow the prudent advice of Monsieur d'Arminges and beat aretreat. They quickly went downstairs. Monsieur d'Arminges was alreadymounted. Olivain had ready the horses of the young men, and the lackeysof the Count de Guiche guarded carefully between them the Spanishprisoner, mounted on a pony which had been bought for his use. As afurther precaution they had bound his hands.
The little company started off at a trot on the road to Cambrin, wherethey expected to find the prince. But he was no longer there, havingwithdrawn on the previous evening to La Bassee, misled by falseintelligence of the enemy's movements. Deceived by this intelligence hehad concentrated his forces between Vieille-Chapelle and La Venthie; andafter a reconnoissance along the entire line, in company with Marshal deGrammont, he had returned and seated himself before a table, with hisofficers around him. He questioned them as to the news they had eachbeen charged to obtain, but nothing positive had been learned. Thehostile army had disappeared two days before and seemed to have gone outof existence.
Now an enemy is never so near and consequently so threatening, as whenhe has completely disappeared. The prince was, therefore, contrary tohis custom, gloomy and anxious, when an officer entered and announced toMarshal de Grammont that some one wished to see him.
The Duc de Grammont received permission from the prince by a glance andwent out. The prince followed him with his eyes and continued looking atthe door; no one ventured to speak, for fear of disturbing him.
Suddenly a dull and heavy noise was heard. The prince leaped to hisfeet, extending his hand in the direction whence came the sound, therewas no mistaking it--it was the noise of cannon. Every one stood up.
At that moment the door opened.
"Monseigneur," said Marshal de Grammont, with a radiant face, "will yourhighness permit my son, Count de Guiche, and his traveling companion,Viscount de Bragelonne, to come in and give news of the enemy, whom theyhave found while we were looking for him?"
"What!" eagerly replied the prince, "will I permit? I not only permit, Idesire; let them come in."
The marshal introduced the two young men and placed them face to facewith the prince.
"Speak, gentlemen," said the prince, saluting them; "first speak; weshall have time afterward for the usual compliments. The most urgentthing now is to learn where the enemy is and what he is doing."
It fell naturally to the Count de Guiche to make reply; not only was hethe elder, but he had been presented to the prince by his father.Besides, he had long known the prince, whilst Raoul now saw him for thefirst time. He therefore narrated to the prince what they had seen fromthe inn at Mazingarbe.
Meanwhile Raoul closely observed the young general, already made sofamous by the battles of Rocroy, Fribourg, and Nordlingen.
Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Conde, who, since the death of his father,Henri de Bourbon, was called, in accordance with the custom of thatperiod, Monsieur le Prince, was a young man, not more than twenty-six ortwenty-seven years old, with the eye of an eagle--agl' occhi grifani, asDante says--aquiline nose, long, waving hair, of medium height, wellformed, possessed of all the qualities essential to the successfulsoldier--that is to say, the rapid glance, quick decision, fabulouscourage. At the same time he was a man of elegant manners and strongmind, so that in addition to the revolution he had made in war, by hisnew contributions to its methods, he had also made a revolution atParis, among the young noblemen of the court, whose natural chief he wasand who, in distinction from the social leaders of the ancient court,modeled after Bassompierre, Bellegarde and the Duke d'Angouleme, werecalled the petits-maitres.
At the first words of the Count de Guiche, the prince, having in mindthe direction whence came the sound of cannon, had understoodeverything. The enemy was marching upon Lens, with the intention,doubtless, of securing possession of that town and separating fromFrance the army of France. But in what force was the enemy? Was it acorps sent out to make a diversion? Was it an entire army? To thisquestion De Guiche could not respond.
Now, as these questions involved matters of gravest consequence, it wasthese to which the prince had especially desired an answer, exact,precise, positive.
Raoul conquered the very natural feeling of timidity he experienced andapproaching the prince:
"My lord," he said, "will you permit me to hazard a few words on thatsubject, which will perhaps relieve you of your uncertainty?"
The prince turned and seemed to cover the young man with a singleglance; he smiled on perceiving that he was a child hardly fifteen yearsold.
"Certainly, monsieur, speak," he said, softening his stern, accentedtones, as if he were speaking to a woman.
"My lord," said Raoul, blushing, "might examine the Spanish prisoner."
"Have you a Spanish prisoner?" cried the prince.
"Yes, my lord."
"Ah, that is true," said De Guiche; "I had forgotten it."
"That is easily understood; it was you who took him, count," said Raoul,smiling.
The old marshal turned toward the viscount, grateful for that praise ofhis son, whilst the prince exclaimed:
"The young man is right; let the prisoner be brought in."
Meanwhile the prince took De Guiche aside and asked him how the prisonerhad been taken and who this young man was.
"Monsieur," said the prince, turning toward Raoul, "I know that you havea letter from my sister, Madame de Longueville; but I see that you havepreferred commending yourself to me by giving me good counsel."
"My lord," said Raoul, coloring up, "I did not wish to interrupt yourhighness in a conversation so important as that in which you wereengaged with the count. But here is the letter."
"Very well," said the prince; "give it to me later. Here is theprisoner; let us attend to what is most pressing."
The prisoner was one of those military adventurers who sold their bloodto whoever would buy, and grew old in stratagems and spoils. Since hehad been taken he had not uttered a word, so that it was not known towhat country he belonged. The prince looked at him with unspeakabledistrust.
"Of what country are you?" asked the prince.
The prisoner muttered a few words in a foreign tongue.
"Ah! ah! it seems that he is a Spaniard. Do you speak Spanish,Grammont?"
"Faith, my lord, but indifferently."
"And I not at all," said the prince, laughing. "Gentlemen," he said,turning to those who were near him "can any one of you speak Spanish andserve me as interpreter?"
"I can, my lord," said Raoul.
"Ah, you speak Spanish?"
"Enough, I think, to fulfill your highness's wishes on this occasion."
Meanwhile the prisoner had remained impassive and as if he had nounderstanding of what was taking place.
"My lord asks of what country you are," said the young man, in thepurest Castilian.
"Ich bin ein Deutscher," replied the prisoner.
"What in the devil does he say?" asked the prince. "What new gibberishis that?"
"He says he is German, my lord," replied Raoul; "but I doubt it, for hisaccent is bad and his pronunciation defective."
"Then you speak German, also?" asked the prince.
"Yes, my lord."
"Well enough to question him in that language?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Question him, then."
Raoul began the examination,
but the result justified his opinion. Theprisoner did not understand, or seemed not to understand, what Raoulsaid to him; and Raoul could hardly understand his replies, containing amixture of Flemish and Alsatian. However, amidst all the prisoner'sefforts to elude a systematic examination, Raoul had recognized hisnatural accent.
"Non siete Spagnuolo," he said; "non siete Tedesco; siete Italiano."
The prisoner started and bit his lips.
"Ah, that," said the prince, "I understand that language thoroughly; andsince he is Italian I will myself continue the examination. Thank you,viscount," continued the prince, laughing, "and I appoint you from thismoment my interpreter."
But the prisoner was not less unwilling to respond in Italian than inthe other languages; his aim was to elude the examination. Therefore, heknew nothing either of the enemy's numbers, or of those in command, orof the purpose of the army.
"Very good," said the prince, understanding the reason of thatignorance; "the man was caught in the act of assassination and robbery;he might have purchased his life by speaking; he doesn't wish to speak.Take him out and shoot him."
The prisoner turned pale. The two soldiers who had brought him in tookhim, each by one arm, and led him toward the door, whilst the prince,turning to Marshal de Grammont, seemed to have already forgotten theorder he had given.
When he reached the threshold of the door the prisoner stopped. Thesoldiers, who knew only their orders, attempted to force him along.
"One moment," said the prisoner, in French. "I am ready to speak, mylord."
"Ah! ah!" said the prince, laughing, "I thought we should come to that.I have a sure method of limbering tongues. Young men, take advantage ofit against the time when you may be in command."
"But on condition," continued the prisoner, "that your highness willswear that my life shall be safe."
"Upon my honor," said the prince.
"Question, then, my lord."
"Where did the army cross the Lys?"
"Between Saint-Venant and Aire."
"By whom is it commanded?"
"By Count de Fuonsaldagna, General Beck and the archduke."
"Of how many does it consist?"
"Eighteen thousand men and thirty-six cannon."
"And its aim is?"
"Lens."
"You see; gentlemen!" said the prince, turning with a triumphant airtoward Marshal de Grammont and the other officers.
"Yes, my lord," said the marshal, "you have divined all that waspossible to human genius."
"Recall Le Plessis, Bellievre, Villequier and D'Erlac," said the prince,"recall all the troops that are on this side of the Lys. Let them holdthemselves in readiness to march to-night. To-morrow, according to allprobability, we shall attack the enemy."
"But, my lord," said Marshal de Grammont, "consider that when we havecollected all our forces we shall have hardly thirteen thousand men."
"Monsieur le marechal," said the prince, with that wonderful glance thatwas peculiar to him, "it is with small armies that great battles arewon."
Then turning toward the prisoner, "Take away that man," he said, "andkeep him carefully in sight. His life is dependent on the information hehas given us; if it is true, he shall be free; if false, let him beshot."
The prisoner was led away.
"Count de Guiche," said the prince, "it is a long time since you sawyour father, remain here with him. Monsieur," he continued, addressingRaoul, "if you are not too tired, follow me."
"To the end of the world, my lord!" cried Raoul, feeling an unknownenthusiasm for that young general, who seemed to him so worthy of hisrenown.
The prince smiled; he despised flatterers, but he appreciatedenthusiasts.
"Come, monsieur," he said, "you are good in council, as we have alreadydiscovered; to-morrow we shall know if you are good in action."
"And I," said the marshal, "what am I to do?"
"Wait here to receive the troops. I shall either return for them myselfor shall send a courier directing you to bring them to me. Twentyguards, well mounted, are all that I shall need for my escort."
"That is very few," said the marshal.
"It is enough," replied the prince. "Have you a good horse, Monsieur deBragelonne?"
"My horse was killed this morning, my lord, and I am mountedprovisionally on my lackey's."
"Choose for yourself in my stables the horse you like best. No falsemodesty; take the best horse you can find. You will need it thisevening, perhaps; you will certainly need it to-morrow."
Raoul didn't wait to be told twice; he knew that with superiors,especially when those superiors are princes, the highest politeness isto obey without delay or argument; he went down to the stables, pickedout a pie-bald Andalusian horse, saddled and bridled it himself, forAthos had advised him to trust no one with those important offices at atime of danger, and went to rejoin the prince, who at that momentmounted his horse.
"Now, monsieur," he said to Raoul, "will you give me the letter you havebrought?"
Raoul handed the letter to the prince.
"Keep near me," said the latter.
The prince threw his bridle over the pommel of the saddle, as he waswont to do when he wished to have both hands free, unsealed the letterof Madame de Longueville and started at a gallop on the road to Lens,attended by Raoul and his small escort, whilst messengers sent to recallthe troops set out with a loose rein in other directions. The princeread as he hastened on.
"Monsieur," he said, after a moment, "they tell me great things of you.I have only to say, after the little that I have seen and heard, that Ithink even better of you than I have been told."
Raoul bowed.
Meanwhile, as the little troop drew nearer to Lens, the noise of thecannon sounded louder. The prince kept his gaze fixed in the directionof the sound with the steadfastness of a bird of prey. One would havesaid that his gaze could pierce the branches of trees which limited hishorizon. From time to time his nostrils dilated as if eager for thesmell of powder, and he panted like a horse.
At length they heard the cannon so near that it was evident they werewithin a league of the field of battle, and at a turn of the road theyperceived the little village of Aunay.
The peasants were in great commotion. The report of Spanish cruelty hadgone out and every one was frightened. The women had already fled,taking refuge in Vitry; only a few men remained. On seeing the princethey hastened to meet him. One of them recognized him.
"Ah, my lord," he said, "have you come to drive away those rascalSpaniards and those Lorraine robbers?"
"Yes," said the prince, "if you will serve me as guide."
"Willingly, my lord. Where does your highness wish to go?"
"To some elevated spot whence I can look down on Lens and thesurrounding country----"
"In that case, I'm your man."
"I can trust you--you are a true Frenchman?"
"I am an old soldier of Rocroy, my lord."
"Here," said the prince, handing him a purse, "here is for Rocroy. Now,do you want a horse, or will you go afoot?"
"Afoot, my lord; I have served always in the infantry. Besides, I expectto lead your highness into places where you will have to walk."
"Come, then," said the prince; "let us lose no time."
The peasant started off, running before the prince's horse; then, ahundred steps from the village, he took a narrow road hidden at thebottom of the valley. For a half league they proceeded thus, thecannon-shot sounding so near that they expected at each discharge tohear the hum of the balls. At length they entered a path which, goingout from the road, skirted the mountainside. The prince dismounted,ordered one of his aids and Raoul to follow his example, and directedthe others to await his orders, keeping themselves meanwhile on thealert. He then began to ascend the path.
In about ten minutes they reached the ruins of an old chateau; thoseruins crowned the summit of a hill which overlooked the surroundingcountry. At a distance of hardly a quarter of a league they looked downon Lens
, at bay, and before Lens the enemy's entire army.
With a single glance the prince took in the extent of country that laybefore him, from Lens as far as Vimy. In a moment the plan of the battlewhich on the following day was to save France the second time frominvasion was unrolled in his mind. He took a pencil, tore a page fromhis tablets and wrote:
"My Dear Marshal,--In an hour Lens will be in the enemy's possession.Come and rejoin me; bring with you the whole army. I shall be at Vendinto place it in position. To-morrow we shall retake Lens and beat theenemy."
Then, turning toward Raoul: "Go, monsieur," he said; "ride fast and givethis letter to Monsieur de Grammont."
Raoul bowed, took the letter, went hastily down the mountain, leaped onhis horse and set out at a gallop. A quarter of an hour later he waswith the marshal.
A portion of the troops had already arrived and the remainder wasexpected from moment to moment. Marshal de Grammont put himself at thehead of all the available cavalry and infantry and took the road toVendin, leaving the Duc de Chatillon to await and bring on the rest. Allthe artillery was ready to move, and started off at a moment's notice.
It was seven o'clock in the evening when the marshal arrived at theappointed place. The prince awaited him there. As he had foreseen, Lenshad fallen into the hands of the enemy immediately after Raoul'sdeparture. The event was announced by the cessation of the firing.
As the shadows of night deepened the troops summoned by the princearrived in successive detachments. Orders were given that no drum shouldbe beaten, no trumpet sounded.
At nine o'clock the night had fully come. Still a last ray of twilightlighted the plain. The army marched silently, the prince at the head ofthe column. Presently the army came in sight of Lens; two or threehouses were in flames and a dull noise was heard which indicated whatsuffering was endured by a town taken by assault.
The prince assigned to every one his post. Marshal de Grammont was tohold the extreme left, resting on Mericourt. The Duc de Chatilloncommanded the centre. Finally, the prince led the right wing, resting onAunay. The order of battle on the morrow was to be that of the positionstaken in the evening. Each one, on awaking, would find himself on thefield of battle.
The movement was executed in silence and with precision. At ten o'clockevery one was in his appointed position; at half-past ten the princevisited the posts and gave his final orders for the following day.
Three things were especially urged upon the officers, who were to seethat the soldiers observed them scrupulously: the first, that thedifferent corps should so march that cavalry and infantry should be onthe same line and that each body should protect its gaps; the second, togo to the charge no faster than a walk; the third, to let the enemy firefirst.
The prince assigned the Count de Guiche to his father and keptBragelonne near his own person; but the two young men sought theprivilege of passing the night together and it was accorded them. A tentwas erected for them near that of the marshal.
Although the day had been fatiguing, neither of them was inclined tosleep. And besides, even for old soldiers the evening before a battle isa serious time; it was so with greater reason to two young men who wereabout to witness for the first time that terrible spectacle. On theevening before a battle one thinks of a thousand things forgotten tillthen; those who are indifferent to one another become friends and thosewho are friends become brothers. It need not be said that if in thedepths of the heart there is a sentiment more tender, it reaches then,quite naturally, the highest exaltation of which it is capable. Somesentiment of this kind must have been cherished by each one of these twofriends, for each of them almost immediately sat down by himself at anend of the tent and began to write.
The letters were long--the four pages were covered with closely writtenwords. The writers sometimes looked up at each other and smiled; theyunderstood without speaking, their organizations were so delicate andsympathetic. The letters being finished, each put his own into twoenvelopes, so that no one, without tearing the first envelope, coulddiscover to whom the second was addressed; then they drew near to eachother and smilingly exchanged their letters.
"In case any evil should happen to me," said Bragelonne.
"In case I should be killed," said De Guiche.
They then embraced each other like two brothers, and each wrappinghimself in his cloak they soon passed into that kindly sleep of youthwhich is the prerogative of birds, flowers and infants.