CHAPTER XXVII. THE BEAR'S SKIN
With a rapidity and good nature that did honor to his courtesy, he wentclose to the candelabra, which were burning on the chimney-piece. Thewaistcoat and trousers seemed to be of the same stuff; but what was thatstuff? The most experienced connoisseur would have been puzzled.
The trousers were tight-fitting as usual, of a light tint between buffand flesh color; the only remarkable thing about them was the absenceof the seam, and the closeness with which they clung to the leg.The waistcoat, on the other hand, had two characteristic signs whichattracted attention; it had been pierced by three balls, which had theholes gaping, and these were stained a carmine, so like blood, that itmight easily have been mistaken for it. On the left side was painted abloody heart, the distinguishing sign of the Vendeans. Morgan examinedthe two articles with the closest attention, but without result.
"If I were not in such a hurry," said he, "I should like to look intothe matter for myself. But you heard for yourself; in all probability,some news has reached the committee; government money probably. Youcan announce it to Cadoudal; only we shall have to take it first.Ordinarily, I command these expeditions; if I delay, some one may takemy place. So tell me what your waistcoat and trousers are made of."
"My dear Morgan," replied the Vendean, "perhaps you have heard that mybrother was captured near Bressure, and shot by the Blues?"
"Yes, I know that."
"The Blues were retreating; they left the body at the corner of thehedge. We were pursuing them so closely that we arrived just after them.I found the body of my brother still warm. In one of his wounds a sprigwas stuck with these words: 'Shot as a brigand by me, Claude Flageolet,corporal of the Third Battalion of Paris.' I took my brother's body, andhad the skin removed from his breast. I vowed that this skin, piercedwith three holes, should eternally cry vengeance before my eyes. I madeit my battle waistcoat."
"Ah!" exclaimed Morgan, with a certain astonishment, in which, forthe first time, was mingled something akin to terror--"Ah! then thatwaistcoat is made of your brother's skin? And the trousers?"
"Oh!" replied the Vendean, "the trousers, that's another matter.They are made of the skin of Claude Flageolet, corporal of the ThirdBattalion of Paris."
At that moment the voice again called out, in the same order, the namesof Morgan, Montbar, Adler and d'Assas.
Morgan rushed out of the study, crossed the dancing-hall from endto end, and made his way to a little salon on the other side of thedressing-room. His three companions, Montbar, Adler and d'Assas, werethere already. With them was a young man in the government livery ofa bearer of despatches, namely a green and gold coat. His boots weredusty, and he wore a visored cap and carried the despatch-box, theessential accoutrements of a cabinet courier.
One of Cassini's maps, on which could be followed the whole lay of theland, was spread on the table.
Before saying why this courier was there, and with what object the mapwas unfolded, let us cast a glance at the three new personages whosenames had echoed through the ballroom, and who are destined to play animportant part in the rest of this history.
The reader already knows Morgan, the Achilles and the Paris of thisstrange association; Morgan, with his blue eyes, his black hair, histall, well-built figure, graceful, easy, active bearing; his eye, whichwas never without animation; his mouth, with its fresh lips and whiteteeth, that was never without a smile; his remarkable countenance,composed of mingling elements that seemed so foreign to eachother--strength and tenderness, gentleness and energy; and, through itall, that bewildering expression of gayety that was at times alarmingwhen one remembered that this man was perpetually rubbing shoulders withdeath, and the most terrifying of all deaths--that of the scaffold.
As for d'Assas, he was a man from thirty-five to thirty-eight years ofage, with bushy hair that was turning gray, and mustaches as black asebony. His eyes were of that wonderful shade of Indian eyes, vergingon maroon. He was formerly a captain of dragoons, admirably built forstruggle, whether physical or moral, his muscles indicating strength,and his face, obstinacy. For the rest, a noble bearing, great eleganceof manners, scented like a dandy, carrying, either from caprice orluxury, a bottle of English smelling-salts, or a silver-gilt vinaigrettecontaining the most subtle perfumes.
Montbar and Adler, whose real names were unknown, like those of d'Assasand Morgan, were commonly called by the Company "the inseparables."Imagine Damon and Pythias, Euryalus and Nisus, Orestes and Pylades attwenty-two--one joyous, loquacious, noisy, the other melancholy,silent, dreamy; sharing all things, dangers, money, mistresses; one thecomplement of the other; each rushing to all extremes, but forgettingself when in peril to watch over the other, like the Spartan youths onthe sacred legions--and you will form an idea of Montbar and Adler.
It is needless to say that all three were Companions of Jehu. They hadbeen convoked, as Morgan suspected, on business of the Company.
On entering the room, Morgan went straight to the pretended bearer ofdespatches and shook hands with him.
"Ah! the dear friend," said the latter, with a stiff movement, showingthat the best rider cannot do a hundred and fifty miles on post-hackswith impunity. "You are taking it easy, you Parisians. Hannibal atCapua slept on rushes and thorns compared to you. I only glanced atthe ballroom in passing, as becomes a poor cabinet courier bearingdespatches from General Massena to the citizen First Consul; but itseemed to me you were a fine lot of victims! Only, my poor friends, youwill have to bid farewell to all that for the present; disagreeable,unlucky, exasperating, no doubt, but the House of Jehu before all."
"My dear Hastier--" began Morgan.
"Stop!" cried Hastier. "No proper names, if you please, gentlemen. TheHastiers are an honest family in Lyons, doing business, it is said, onthe Place des Terreaux, from father to son, and would be much humiliatedto learn that their heir had become a cabinet courier, and rode thehighways with the national pack on his back. Lecoq as much as youplease, but not Hastier. I don't know Hastier; and you, gentlemen,"continued the young man, addressing Montbar, Adler and d'Assas, "do youknow him?"
"No," replied the three young men, "and we ask pardon for Morgan, whodid wrong."
"My dear Lecoq," exclaimed Morgan.
"That's right," interrupted Hastier. "I answer to that name! Well, whatdid you want to tell me?"
"I wanted to say that if you are not the antipodes of the godHarpocrates, whom the Egyptians represent with a finger on his lips,you will, instead of indulging in a lot of declamations, more or lessflowery, tell us why this costume, and why that map?"
"The deuce!" retorted the young man. "If you don't know already, it'syour fault and not mine. If I hadn't been obliged to call you twice,caught as you doubtless were in the toils of some beautiful Eumenidesimploring vengeance of a fine young man for the death of her oldparents, you'd know as much as these gentlemen, and I wouldn't haveto sing an encore. Well, here's what it is: simply of the remainingtreasure of the Berne bears, which General Lecourbe is sending to thecitizen First Consul by order of General Massena. A trifle, only ahundred thousand francs, that they don't dare send over the Jura onaccount of M. Teysonnet's partisans, who, they pretend, are likely toseize it; so it will be sent by Geneva, Bourg, Macon, Dijon, and Troyes;a much safer way, as they will find when they try it."
"Very good!"
"We were informed of this by Renard, who started from Gex at full speed,and transmitted the news to l'Hirondelle, who is at present stationed atChalon-sur-Saone. He transmitted it to me, Lecoq, at Auxerre, and I havedone a hundred and fifty miles to transmit it in turn to you. As for thesecondary details, here they are. The treasure left Berne last octodi,28th Nivose, year VIII. of the Republic triple and indivisible. Itshould reach Genoa to-day, duodi, and leave to-morrow, tridi, by thediligence from Geneva to Bourg; so that, by leaving this very night, bythe day after to-morrow, quintide, you can, my dear sons of Israel,meet the treasure of messires the bears between Dijon and Troyes, nearBar-sur-Seine or Chatillon.
What say you?"
"By heavens!" cried Morgan, "we say that there seems to be no room forargument left; we say we should never have permitted ourselves to touchthe money of their Highnesses the bears of Berne so long as it remainedin their coffers; but as it has changed hands once, I see no objectionto its doing so a second time. Only how are we to start?"
"Haven't you a post-chaise?"
"Yes, it's here in the coach-house."
"Haven't you horses to get you to the next stage?"
"They are in the stable."
"Haven't you each your passports."
"We have each four."
"Well, then?"
"Well, we can't stop the diligence in a post-chaise. We don't putourselves to too much inconvenience, but we don't take our ease in thatway."
"Well, and why not?" asked Montbar; "it would be original. I can't seewhy, if sailors board from one vessel to another, we couldn't board adiligence from a post-chaise. We want novelty; shall we try it, Adler?"
"I ask nothing better," replied the latter, "but what will we do withthe postilion?"
"That's true," replied Montbar.
"The difficulty is foreseen, my children," said the courier; "amessenger has been sent to Troyes. You will leave your post-chaise atDelbauce; there you will find four horses all saddled and stuffed withoats. You will then calculate your time, and the day after to-morrow,or rather to-morrow, for it is past midnight, between seven and eight inthe morning, the money of Messires Bruin will pass an anxious quarter ofan hour."
"Shall we change our clothes?" inquired d'Assas.
"What for?" replied Morgan. "I think we are very presentable as we are.No diligence could be relieved of unnecessary weight by better dressedfellows. Let us take a last glance at the map, transfer a pate, a coldchicken, and a dozen of champagne from the supper-room to the pocketsof the coach, arm to the teeth in the arsenal, wrap ourselves in warmcloaks, and--clack! postilion!"
"Yes!" cried Montbar, "that's the idea."
"I should think so," added Morgan. "We'll kill the horses if necessary,and be back at seven in the evening, in time to show ourselves at theopera."
"That will establish an alibi," observed d'Assas.
"Precisely," said Morgan, with his imperturbable gayety. "How could menwho applaud Mademoiselle Clotilde and M. Vestris at eight o'clock in theevening have been at Bar and Chatillon in the morning settling accountswith the conductor of a diligence? Come, my sons, a last look at the mapto choose our spot."
The four young men bent over Cassini's map.
"If I may give you a bit of topographical advice," said the courier, "itwould be to put yourselves in ambush just beyond Massu; there's a fordopposite to the Riceys--see, there!"
And the young man pointed out the exact spot on the map.
"I should return to Chacource, there; from Chacource you have adepartment road, straight as an arrow, which will take you to Troyes; atTroyes you take carriage again, and follow the road to Sens instead ofthat to Coulommiers. The donkeys--there are plenty in the provinces--whosaw you in the morning won't wonder at seeing you again in the evening;you'll get to the opera at ten instead of eight--a more fashionablehour--neither seen nor recognized, I'll warrant you."
"Adopted, so far as I am concerned," said Morgan.
"Adopted!" cried the other three in chorus.
Morgan pulled out one of the two watches whose chains were dangling fromhis belt; it was a masterpiece of Petitot's enamel, and on the outercase which protected the painting was a diamond monogram. The pedigreeof this beautiful trinket was as well established as that of an Arabhorse; it had been made for Marie-Antoinette, who had given it to theDuchesse de Polastron, who had given it to Morgan's mother.
"One o'clock," said Morgan; "come, gentlemen, we must relay at Lagny atthree."
From that moment the expedition had begun, and Morgan became its leader;he no longer consulted, he commanded.
D'Assas, who in Morgan's absence commanded, was the first to obey on hisreturn.
Half an hour later a closed carriage containing four young men wrappedin their cloaks was stopped at the Fontainebleau barrier by thepost-guard, who demanded their passports.
"Oh, what a joke!" exclaimed one of them, putting his head out of thewindow and affecting the pronunciation of the day. "Passpawts to dwiveto Gwobois to call on citizen _Ba-as_? 'Word of fluted honor!' you'recwazy, fwend! Go on, dwiver!"
The coachman whipped up his horses and the carriage passed withoutfurther opposition.