CHAPTER LIII. IN WHICH AMELIE KEEPS HER WORD
The verdict rendered by the jury of the town of Bourg had a terribleeffect, not only in the courtroom, but throughout the entire town. Thefour prisoners had shown such chivalric brotherhood, such noble bearing,such deep conviction in the faith they professed, that their enemiesthemselves admired the devotion which had made robbers and highwaymen ofmen of rank and family.
Madame de Montrevel, overwhelmed by the part she had been made to playat the crucial point of this drama, saw but one means of repairing theevil she had done, and that was to start at once for Paris and flingherself at the feet of the First Consul, imploring him to pardon thefour condemned men. She did not even take time to go to the Chateau desNoires-Fontaines to see Amelie. She knew that Bonaparte's departure wasfixed for the first week in May, and this was already the 6th. When shelast left Paris everything had been prepared for that departure.
She wrote a line to Amelie explaining by what fatal deception she hadbeen instrumental in destroying the lives of four men, when she intendedto save the life of one. Then, as if ashamed of having broken the pledgeshe had made to Amelie, and above all to herself, she ordered freshpost-horses and returned to Paris.
She arrived there on the morning of the 8th of May. Bonaparte hadstarted on the evening of the 6th. He said on leaving that he was onlygoing to Dijon, possibly as far as Geneva, but in any case he shouldnot be absent more than three weeks. The prisoners' appeal, even ifrejected, would not receive final consideration for five or six weeks.All hope need not therefore be abandoned.
But, alas! it became evident that the review at Dijon was only apretext, that the journey to Geneva had never been seriously thought of,and that Bonaparte, instead of going to Switzerland, was really on hisway to Italy.
Then Madame de Montrevel, unwilling to appeal to her son, for she hadheard his oath when Lord Tanlay had been left for dead, and knew thepart he had played in the capture of the Companions of Jehu--then Madamede Montrevel appealed to Josephine, and Josephine promised to write tothe First Consul. That same evening she kept her promise.
But the trial had made a great stir. It was not with these prisoners aswith ordinary men. Justice made haste, and thirty-five days after theverdict had been rendered the appeal was rejected. This decision wasimmediately sent to Bourg with an order to execute the prisoners withintwenty-four hours. But notwithstanding the haste of the minister ofpolice in forwarding this decision, the first intimation of the fatalnews was not received by the judicial authorities at Bourg. While theprisoners were taking their daily walk in the courtyard a stone wasthrown over the outer wall and fell at their feet. Morgan, who stillretained in relation to his comrades the position of leader, pickedit up, opened the letter which inclosed the stone, and read it. Then,turning to his friends, he said: "Gentlemen, the appeal has beenrejected, as we might have expected, and the ceremony will take place inall probability to-morrow."
Valensolle and Ribier, who were playing a species of quoits withcrown-pieces and louis, left off their game to hear the news. Havingheard it they returned to their game without remark.
Jayat, who was reading "La Nouvelle Heloise," resumed his book, saying:"Then, I shall not have time to finish M. Jean-Jacques Rousseau'smasterpiece, and upon my word I don't regret it, for it is the mostutterly false and wearisome book I ever read in my life!"
Sainte-Hermine passed his hand over his forehead, murmuring: "PoorAmelie!" Then observing Charlotte, who was at the window of the jailer'sroom overlooking the courtyard, he went to her. "Tell Amelie that shemust keep the promise she made me, to-night."
The jailer's daughter closed the window, kissed her father, and told himthat in all probability he would see her there again that evening. Thenshe returned to Noires-Fontaines, a road she had taken twice every dayfor the last two months, once at noon on her way to the prison, once inthe evening on returning to the chateau.
Every night she found Amelie in the same place, sitting at the windowwhich, in happier days, had given admittance to her beloved Charles.Since the day she had fainted in the courtroom she had shed no tears,and, we may almost add, had uttered no word. Unlike the marble ofantiquity awakening into life, she might have been compared to a livingwoman petrifying into stone. Every day she grew paler.
Charlotte watched her with astonishment. Common minds, always impressedby noisy demonstrations, that is to say, by cries and tears, are unableto understand a mute sorrow. Dumbness to them means indifference. Shewas therefore astonished at the calmness with which Amelie received themessage she was charged to deliver. She did not see in the dimness ofthe twilight that Amelie's face from being pale grew livid. She did notfeel the deadly clutch which, like an iron wrench, had seized her heart.She did not know that as her mistress walked to the door an automaticstiffness was in her limbs. Nevertheless she followed her anxiously. Butat the door Amelie stretched out her hand.
"Wait for me there," she said.
Charlotte obeyed. Amelie closed the door behind her, and went up toRoland's room.
Roland's room was veritably that of a soldier and a huntsman, and itschief adornments were trophies and weapons. Arms of all kinds were here,French and foreign, from the blue-barrelled pistol of Versailles to thesilver-handled pistol of Cairo, from the tempered blade of Catalonia tothe Turkish cimeter.
Amelie took down from this arsenal four daggers, sharp-edged andpointed, and eight pistols of different shapes. She put balls in a bagand powder in a horn. Thus supplied she returned to her own room. ThereCharlotte assisted her in putting on the peasant gown. Then she waitedfor the night.
Night comes late in June. Amelie stood motionless, mute, leaning againstthe chimney-piece, and looking through the open window at the villageof Ceyzeriat, which was slowly disappearing in the gathering shadesof night. When she could no longer distinguish anything but the lightswhich were being lighted one by one, she said:
"Come, it is time to go."
The two young girls went out. Michel paid no attention to Amelie,supposing her to be some friend of Charlotte's, who had called to seeher and whom the jailer's daughter was now escorting home.
Ten o'clock was striking as they passed the church of Brou. It wasquarter past when Charlotte knocked at the prison door. Old Courtoisopened it.
We have already shown the political opinions of the worthy jailer. Hewas a royalist. He therefore felt the deepest sympathy for the fourcondemned men, and had hoped, like nearly every one in Bourg--likeMadame de Montrevel, whose despair at what she had done was known tohim--that the First Consul would pardon them. He had therefore mitigatedtheir captivity as much as possible, without failing in his duty, byrelieving them of all needless restrictions. On the other hand, it istrue that he had refused a gift of sixty thousand francs (a sum whichin those days was worth nearly treble what it is now) to allow them toescape.
We have seen how, being taken into confidence by his daughter, he hadallowed Amelie, disguised as a Bressan peasant, to be present at thetrial. The reader will also remember the kindness the worthy man hadshown to Amelie and her mother when they themselves were prisoners.This time, as he was still ignorant of the rejection of the appeal, heallowed his feelings to be worked upon. Charlotte had told him that heryoung mistress was to start that night for Paris to endeavor to hastenthe pardon, and that she desired before leaving to see the Baron deSainte-Hermine and obtain his last instructions.
There were five doors to break through to reach the street, a squad ofguards in the courtyard, and sentinels within and without the prison.Consequently Pere Courtois felt no anxiety lest his prisoners escape. Hetherefore consented that Amelie should see Morgan.
We trust our readers will excuse us if we use the names Morgan, Charles,and the Baron de Sainte-Hermine, interchangeably, since they are awarethat by that triple appellation we intend to designate the same man.
Courtois took a light and walked before Amelie. The young girl, asthough prepared to start by the mail-coach at once on leaving theprison, carried
a travelling bag in her hand. Charlotte followed hermistress.
"You will recognize the cell, Mademoiselle de Montrevel," said Courtois."It is the one in which you were confined with your mother. The leaderof these unfortunate young men, the Baron Charles de Sainte-Hermine,asked me as a favor to put them in cage No. 1. You know that's thename we give our cells. I did not think I ought to refuse him thatconsolation, knowing how the poor fellow loved you. Oh, don't beuneasy, Mademoiselle Amelie, I will never breathe your secret. Then hequestioned me, asking which had been your mother's bed, and which yours.I told him, and then he wanted his to stand just where yours did. Thatwasn't hard, for the bed was not only in the same place, but it was thevery one you had used. So, since the poor fellow entered your cell, hehas spent nearly all his time lying on your bed."
Amelie gave a sigh that resembled a groan. She felt--and it was longsince she had done so--a tear moisten her eyelids. Yes! she was loved asshe loved, and the lips of a disinterested stranger gave her the proofof it. At this moment of eternal separation this conviction shone like adiamond of light in its setting of sorrow.
The doors opened one by one before Pere Courtois. When they reached thelast one, Amelie laid her hand on the jailer's shoulder. She thoughtshe heard a chant. Listening attentively, she became aware that it was avoice repeating verses.
But the voice was not Morgan's; it was unknown to her. Here is what itsaid:
I have bared all my heart to the God of the just, He has witnessed my penitent tears; He has stilled my remorse, He has armed me with trust, He has pitied and calmed all my fears.
My enemies, scoffing, have said in their rage: "Let him die, be his mem'ry accursed!" Saith the merciful Father, my grief to assuage, "Their hatred hath now done its worst.
"I have heard thy complaints, and I know that the ban Of remorse hath e'en brought thee so low; I can pity the soul of the penitent man That was weak in this valley of woe;
"I will crown thy lost name with the just acclaim Of the slow-judging righteous years; Their pity and justice in time shall proclaim Thine honor; then layoff thy fears!"
I bless thee, O God! who hast deigned to restore Mine honor that Thou hast made whole From shame and remorse; as I enter Death's door To Thee I commend my poor soul!
To the banquet of life, an unfortunate guest, I came for a day, and I go-- I die in my vigor; I sought not to rest In the grave where the weary lie low.
Farewell to thee, earth! farewell, tender verdure Of woodland! Farewell, sunny shore! Green fields that I love, azure skies, smiling Nature, Farewell! I shall see thee no more.
May thy beauty still gladden the friends that I love, Whom I long for--but stern fate denies; May they pass full of years, though I wait them above; May a last loving hand close their eyes.
The voice was silent; no doubt the last verse was finished. Amelie, whowould not interrupt the last meditations of the doomed men, and who hadrecognized Gilbert's beautiful ode written on a hospital bed the nightbefore his death, now signed to the jailer to open the door. PereCourtois, jailer as he was, seemed to share the young girl's emotion,for he put the key in the lock and turned it as softly as he could. Thedoor opened.
Amelie saw at a glance the whole interior of the cell, and the personsin it.
Valensolle was standing, leaning against the wall, and still holding thebook from which he had just read the lines that Amelie had overheard.Jayat was seated near a table with his head resting on his hands.Ribier was sitting on the table itself. Near him, but further back,Sainte-Hermine, his eyes closed as if in sleep, was lying on the bed. Atsight of the young girl, whom they knew to be Amelie, Ribier and Jayatrose. Morgan did not move; he had heard nothing.
Amelie went directly to him, and, as if the love she felt for him weresanctified by the nearness of death, she gave no heed to the presence ofhis friends, but pressed her lips to his, murmuring: "Awake, my Charles,it is I, Amelie. I have come to keep my promise."
Morgan gave a cry of joy and clasped her in his arms.
"Monsieur Courtois," said Montbar, "you are a worthy man. Leave thosepoor young people alone. It would be sacrilege to trouble their lastmoments together on earth by our presence."
Pere Courtois, without a word, opened the door of the adjoining cell.Valensolle, Jayat and Ribier entered it, and the door was closed uponthem. Then, making a sign to Charlotte, Courtois himself went away. Thelovers were alone.
There are scenes that should not be described, words that must not berepeated. God, who sees and hears them from his immortal throne, aloneknows what sombre joys, what bitter pleasures they contain.
At the end of an hour the two young people heard the key turn oncemore in the lock. They were sad but calm. The conviction that theirseparation would not be for long gave them a sweet serenity. The worthyjailer seemed more grieved and distressed at his second appearance thanat his first; but Morgan and Amelie thanked him with a smile.
He went to the cell where the others were locked up and opened it,murmuring to himself: "Faith! It would have been hard if they couldn'thave been alone together on their last night."
Valensolle, Jayat and Ribier returned. Amelie, with her left arm woundaround Morgan, held out her right hand to them. All three, one after theother, kissed that cold, damp hand. Then Morgan led her to the door.
"Au revoir!" he said.
"Soon!" she answered.
And then this parting at the gates of death was sealed by a long kiss,followed by a groan so terrible that it seemed to rend their hearts intwain.
The door closed again, the bolts and bars shot into their places.
"Well?" cried Valensolle, Jayat and Ribier with one accord.
"Here!" replied Morgan, emptying the travelling bag upon the table.
The three young men gave a cry of joy as they saw the shining pistolsand gleaming blades. It was all that they desired next to liberty--thejoy, the dolorous precious joy of knowing themselves masters of theirown lives, and, if need be, that of others.
During this time the jailer led Amelie to the street. When they reachedit he hesitated a moment, then he touched Amelie's arm, saying as he didso: "Mademoiselle de Montrevel, forgive me for causing you so much pain,but it is useless for you to go to Paris."
"Because the appeal has been rejected and the execution takes placeto-morrow, I suppose you mean," said Amelie.
The jailer in his astonishment stepped back a pace.
"I knew it, my friend," said Amelie. Then turning to Charlotte, shesaid: "Take me to the nearest church and come for me to-morrow after allis over."
The nearest church was not far off. It was that of Sainte-Claire. Forthe last three months it had been opened for public worship under thedecree of the First Consul. As it was now nearly midnight, the doorswere closed; but Charlotte knew where the sexton lived and she went towake him. Amelie waited, leaning against the walls as motionless as themarble figures that adorned its frontal.
The sexton arrived at the end of half an hour. During that time the girlhad seen a dreadful sight. Three men had passed her, dragging a cart,which she saw by the light of the moon was painted red. Within this cartshe perceived shapeless objects, long planks and singular ladders,all painted the same color. They were dragging it toward the bastionMontrevel, the place used for the executions. Amelie divined what itwas, and, with a cry, she fell upon her knees.
At that cry the men in black turned round. They fancied for a momentthat one of the sculptured figures of the porch had descended fromits niche and was kneeling there. The one who seemed to be the leaderstepped close to the young girl.
"Don't come near me!" she cried. "Don't come near me!"
The man returned humbly to his place and continued on his way. The cartdisappeared round the corner of the Rue des Prisons; but the noise ofits wheels still sounded on the stones and echoed in the girl's heart.
When the sacristan and Charlotte returned they found the young girl onher knees. The man ra
ised some objections against opening the churchat that hour of the night; but a piece of gold and Mademoiselle deMontrevel's name dispelled his scruples. A second gold piece decided himto light a little chapel. It was the one in which Amelie had made herfirst communion. There, kneeling before the altar, she implored them toleave her alone.
Toward three in the morning she saw the colored window above the altarof the Virgin begin to lighten. It looked to the east, so that the firstray of light came direct to her eyes as a messenger from God.
Little by little the town awoke. To Amelie the noise seemed louder thanever before. Soon the vaulted ceiling of the church shook with the trampof a troop of horsemen. This troop was on its way to the prison.
A little before nine the young girl heard a great noise, and it seemedto her that the whole town must be rushing in the same direction.She strove to lose herself in prayer, that she might not hear thesedifferent sounds that spoke to her in an unknown language of which heranguish told her she understood every word.
In truth, a terrible thing was happening at the prison. It was no wonderthat the whole town had rushed thither.
At nine o'clock Pere Courtois entered the jail to tell the prisoners atone and the same time that their appeal had been rejected and that theymust prepare for immediate death. He found the four prisoners armed tothe teeth.
The jailer, taken unawares, was pulled into the cell and the door lockedbehind him. Then the young men, without any defence on his part,so astonished was he, seized his keys, and passing through the dooropposite to the one by which he had entered they locked it on him.Leaving him in their cell, they found themselves in the adjoining one,in which he had placed three of them during Amelie's interview withMorgan.
One of the keys on the jailer's bunch opened the other door of thiscell, and that door led to the inner courtyard of the prison. Thiscourtyard was closed by three massive doors, all of which led to a sortof lobby, opening upon the porter's lodge, which in turn adjoined thelaw-courts. From this lodge fifteen steps led down into a vast courtyardclosed by an iron gate and railing. Usually this gate was only locked atnight. If it should happen to be open on this occasion it would offer apossibility of escape.
Morgan found the key of the prisoners' court, opened the door, andrushed with his companions to the porter's lodge and to the portico,from which the fifteen steps led down into the courtyard. From there thethree young men could see that all hope was lost.
The iron gate was closed, and eighty men, dragoons and gendarmes, weredrawn up in front of it.
When the four prisoners, free and armed to the teeth, sprang from theporter's lodge to the portico, a great cry, a cry of astonishment andterror, burst from the crowd in the street beyond the railing.
Their aspect was formidable, indeed; for to preserve the freedom oftheir movements, perhaps to hide the shedding of blood, which would haveshown so quickly on their white linen, they were naked to the waist. Ahandkerchief knotted around their middle bristled with weapons.
A glance sufficed to show them that they were indeed masters of theirown lives, but not of their liberty. Amid the clamoring of the crowd andthe clanking of the sabres, as they were drawn from their scabbards, theyoung men paused an instant and conferred together. Then Montbar, aftershaking hands with his companions, walked down the fifteen steps andadvanced to the gate.
When he was within four yards of the gate he turned, with a last glanceat his comrades, bowed graciously to the now silent mob, and said tothe soldiers: "Very well, gentlemen of the gendarmerie! Very well,dragoons!"
Then, placing the muzzle of his pistol to his mouth, he blew out hisbrains.
Confused and frantic cries followed the explosion, but ceased almostimmediately as Valensolle came down the steps, holding in his hand adagger with a straight and pointed blade. His pistols, which he did notseem inclined to use, were still in his belt.
He advanced to a sort of shed supported on three pillars, stopped at thefirst pillar, rested the hilt of his dagger upon it, and, with a lastsalutation to his friends, clasped the column with one arm tillthe blade had disappeared in his breast. For an instant he remainedstanding, then a mortal pallor overspread his face, his arm loosened itshold, and he fell to the ground, stone-dead.
The crowd was mute, paralyzed with horror.
It was now Ribier's turn. He advanced to the gate, and, once there,aimed the two pistols he held at the gendarmes. He did not fire, but thegendarmes did. Three or four shots were heard, and Ribier fell, piercedby two balls.
Admiration seized upon the spectators at sight of these successivecatastrophes. They saw that the young men were willing to die, butto die with honor, and as they willed, and also with the grace of thegladiators of antiquity. Silence therefore reigned when Morgan, now leftalone, came smiling down the steps of the portico and held up his handin sign that he wished to speak. Besides, what more could it want--thiseager mob; watching for blood?
A greater sight had been given to it than it came to see. Four dead menhad been promised to it; four heads were to be cut off; but here wasvariety in death, unexpected, picturesque. It was natural, therefore,that the crowd should keep silence when Morgan was seen to advance.
He held neither pistols nor daggers in his hands; they were in his belt.He passed the body of Valensolle, and placed himself between those ofJayat and Ribier.
"Gentlemen," said he, "let us negotiate."
The hush that followed was so great that those present seemed scarcelyto breathe. Morgan said: "There lies a man who has blown out his brains[he pointed to Jayat]; here lies one who stabbed himself [he designatedValensolle]; a third who has been shot [he indicated Ribier]; you wantto see the fourth guillotined. I understand that."
A dreadful shudder passed through the crowd.
"Well," continued Morgan, "I am willing to give you that satisfaction. Iam ready, but I desire to go to the scaffold in my own way. No oneshall touch me; if any one does come near me I shall blow out hisbrains--except that gentleman," continued Morgan, pointing to theexecutioner. "This is his affair and mine only."
The crowd apparently thought this request reasonable, for from all sidescame the cry, "Yes, yes, yes."
The officer saw that the quickest way to end the matter was to yield toMorgan's demand.
"Will you promise me," he asked, "that if your hands and feet are notbound you will not try to escape?"
"I give my word of honor," replied Morgan.
"Then," said the officer; "stand aside, and let us take up the bodies ofyour comrades."
"That is but right," said Morgan, and he turned aside to a wall aboutten paces distant and leaned against it.
The gate opened. Three men dressed in black entered the courtyard andpicked up the bodies one after the other. Ribier was not quite dead; heopened his eyes and seemed to look for Morgan.
"Here I am," said the latter. "Rest easy, dear friend, I follow."
Ribier closed his eyes without uttering a word.
When the three bodies had been removed, the officer of the gendarmerieaddressed Morgan.
"Are you ready, sir?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Morgan, bowing with exquisite politeness.
"Then come."
"I come."
And he took his place between a platoon of gendarmerie and a detachmentof dragoons.
"Will you mount the cart, sir, or go on foot?" asked the captain.
"On foot, on foot, sir. I am anxious that all shall see it is mypleasure to be guillotined, and that I am not afraid."
The sinister procession crossed the Place des Lisses and skirted thewalls of the Hotel Montbazon. The cart bearing the three bodies camefirst, then the dragoons, then Morgan walking alone in a clear space ofsome ten feet before and behind him, then the gendarmes. At the end ofthe wall they turned to the left.
Suddenly, through an opening that existed at that time between the walland the market-place, Morgan saw the scaffold raising its two posts toheaven like two bloody arms.
"Faugh!" he
exclaimed, "I have never seen a guillotine, and I had noidea it was so ugly."
Then, without further remark, he drew his dagger and plunged it into hisbreast up to the hilt.
The captain of the gendarmerie saw the movement without being in timeto prevent it. He spurred his horse toward Morgan, who, to his ownamazement and that of every one else, remained standing. But Morgan,drawing a pistol from his belt and cocking it, exclaimed: "Stop! It wasagreed that no one should touch me. I shall die alone, or three of uswill die together."
The captain reined back his horse.
"Forward!" said Morgan.
They reached the foot of the guillotine. Morgan drew out his dagger andstruck again as deeply as before. A cry of rage rather than pain escapedhim.
"My soul must be riveted to my body," he said.
Then, as the assistants wished to help him mount the scaffold on whichthe executioner was awaiting him, he cried out: "No, I say again, let noone touch me."
Then he mounted the three steps without staggering.
When he reached the platform, he drew out the dagger again and struckhimself a third time. Then a frightful laugh burst from his lips;flinging the dagger, which he had wrenched from the third ineffectualwound, at the feet of the executioner, he exclaimed: "By my faith! Ihave done enough. It is your turn; do it if you can."
A minute later the head of the intrepid young man fell upon thescaffold, and by a phenomenon of that unconquerable vitality which hepossessed it rebounded and rolled forward beyond the timbers of theguillotine.
Go to Bourg, as I did, and they will tell you that, as the head rolledforward, it was heard to utter the name of Amelie.
The dead bodies were guillotined after the living one; so that thespectators, instead of losing anything by the events we have justrelated, enjoyed a double spectacle.