CHAPTER XXVI.
A REVOLUTIONARY OUTPOST.
On the 5th Nivose of the year II (December 25, 1793), an advance post ofthe main body of the Army of the Republic lay in military occupancy ofan isolated tavern some quarter of a league's distance from Ingelsheim,a French burg about twelve leagues from Strasburg. Hoche and Pichegru,the Generals of the detachments called "of the Rhine and Moselle," hadremoved their headquarters to Ingelsheim, after several advantagesgained over Marshal Wurmser, the Duke of Brunswick and the Prince ofConde. The republican troops were bivouacked about the city. The lightof their campfires struggled with difficulty through the mists of ablack winter's night. A line of scouts and pickets covered the positionof the post, which was composed of a company of the Seventh Battalion,Paris Volunteers, among whom were John Lebrenn and his foremanCastillon.
The company was gathered in the large hall of the inn, and in thekitchen, where blazed a great fire. The greater part of the men, wornout with fatigue, sought repose on beds of fresh straw laid along thewalls, making shift to use their knapsacks as pillows. Others furbishedtheir arms, or blacked their cartridge-boxes; still others were mendingtheir dilapidated garments or exercising their wits to cobble theirshoes into a semblance of serviceableness; for neither the stores of thearmy nor draughts on nature sufficed to clothe and shoe all the citizenscalled to the flag in the last levies, or to replenish their wardrobesagainst the havocs of war. Few, indeed, of the volunteers, wore thecomplete uniform decreed by the Convention and which was already coveredwith the glory of so many victories. This consisted of a coat of deepblue, with facings and trimmings of red, and large white lapels, whichleft displayed the vest of white cloth, like the trousers; black knitleggins, with leather buttons, reaching to the knee; a flatthree-cornered hat, surmounted with a plume of red horse-hair, fallingbeside the cockade; and a knapsack of white calf or buffalo-skin. Onlythe most recent recruits to the battalion were dressed correctly inaccord with the decree.
The company was in command of a captain named Martin, a pupil of thepainter David, the Convention member. Martin had enrolled after the daysof September and at once left for the front. He had already advancedthrough all the elective ranks. Twice wounded, full of bravery and dash,and knowing how to win obedience in the moment of action, Captain Martinshowed himself always jovial, open, and engaging in his relations withthe volunteers. Although he had now followed war for fifteen months,David's young pupil did not renounce his former profession. He onlyawaited peace to lay down his sword, take up his brushes, and attempt toopen a new field in his art by depicting the battles of the Revolution,and episodes of camp life. Seated at one corner of a table that waslighted by an iron lamp, Captain Martin was even now amusing himselfwith sketching, in a little pocket sketch-book, the figure, at oncepitiable and grotesque, of the frightened innkeeper. Although a nativeof Alsace, the latter spoke an unintelligible dialect, and understood noFrench. Castillon, who was addressing him, indicated with a gesture ayoung volunteer in spick-and-span new uniform, scrupulously combed andshaven, and altogether looking, as they say, as if he had stepped out ofa band-box, and explained:
"This citizen asks for twenty bottles of Moselle wine, to be paid for,of course. Isn't what I'm saying to you clear enough--barbarian!"
To which the innkeeper, multiplying his manifestations of distress,replied in an agonizing jargon.
"But, Gott's t'under, ve vant vine! Ve temant vine of you!" retortedCastillon impatiently, assuming a German patois in the hope of makinghimself understood.
It was Captain Martin who cut the gordian knot and ended the alreadytoo-long debate. Hastily outlining in his sketch-book a bottle and aglass, he waved the drawing under mine host's eyes together with anassignat[14] which he drew from his pocket. The Alsatian gave a sigh ofrelief, motioned that he at last comprehended, and was about to scamperoff to his cellar when the captain held him back, and, to prevent anyfurther misunderstanding, drew the figure 20 underneath the picture ofthe bottle. To this new intelligence the tavernkeeper responded withuncouth contortions of delight, and a formidable "Yah!"
"The animal!" exclaimed Castillon, shrugging his shoulders, "whycouldn't he answer like that right off!" And addressing himself to thenew recruit: "If our innkeeper weren't such a booby, we would have beenable to drink your welcome to the battalion half an hour ago, CitizenDuresnel."
"True; but then we would have already drunk it, while now we have stillin store the pleasure of putting it down," replied Duresnel thickly, asif he had a hot potato in his mouth, and dropping all his r's like onewho had never seen Paris.
"Ho, ho! You come in time, comrade," replied a volunteer banteringly."We're going to have a fight to-morrow, you'll see what it is to gounder fire. We'll have a brush of it!"
"That's what I came for," Duresnel made answer in his muffled voice;"only--and you will laugh at me, citizens--I confess to you--neverhaving smelled gunpowder, I am afraid--"
"Which? What?" cried the troop in chorus, greatly amused at thebabyishness of the young Parisian. "What are you afraid of? Come,comrade, explain yourself."
"Damn! citizens--I am afraid--of being afraid!"
The answer provoked an explosion of hilarity. Without being in the leastput out of countenance, Duresnel added: "Yes, wo'd of honor, citizens;never having been in action, and not knowing what effect it will haveupon me, I am afraid of being afraid. That's very simple."
"Bravo, comrade," interjected Captain Martin, "it is not always thosewho make a flourish of their swords in advance who prove the most heady.Your modesty is a good omen; in consequence of which I wager thatto-morrow you will take your baptism of fire bravely, with a cry ofLong live the Republic! Just have a little confidence in yourself."
"You're a good fellow, captain; I shall do my best. For, wo'd of honor,it would be disagreeable to me to know that I am a coward, after havingposted from Paris to join the battalion."
"You came by post?" exclaimed Castillon. "You must have been in a hurryto get here!"
"Surely; I had already lost so much time. First I was at the quarters ofthe battalion in the barracks of Picpus, where I learned a little of thedrill, after which I took a stage coach to reach Strasburg. Then, takingadvantage of the escort which accompanied Representatives St. Just andLebas to Ingelsheim, I rejoined the battalion, and here I am."
"A beaker of Moselle will give you courage, comrade," said CaptainMartin, full of interest in the young man; and seeing at that moment thehost return with two baskets bursting with bottles: "Come, friends, letus drink a welcome to Citizen Duresnel. Drink, comrades, to theextermination of Kings, priests, Jesuits, and aristocrats."
"Thanks, captain, I drink nothing but water;" and seeing on thesideboard a water-jug, Duresnel poured himself out a glassful. Thenraising his bumper, he replied: "To the health of my brave companions ofthe Seventh Battalion, Volunteers of Paris! To the extermination of allmonarchs! To the lamp-post with the aristocrats!--Captain," continuedDuresnel, "since you are my military superior, I have a favor to ask ofyou."
"Granted in advance, on one condition."
"And what's that, if you please, captain?"
"That you thee-and-thou us, myself and our comrades, as we thee-and-thouyou. It is a mark of political fraternity."
"Very well, captain. Here, then, is the request I wish to make of you: Iam now a soldier of the Army of the Rhine and Moselle. It seems to me Ishould take more pleasure of the business if I knew whereabouts we werein the war. Otherwise I should be like a man starting to read a story inthe middle, and unable to understand a word, since he does not know thebeginning."
"What you say is in point, comrade. I shall do the right thing by yourrequest at one of our next watches."
At this moment the attention of the volunteers was drawn to a newpersonage who entered the inn-hall. This individual wore the uniform ofa mounted cannonier, and the insignia of chief quartermaster. His dress,like that of the volunteers, bore many a patch. His face was of astrikingly martial cut, his long moustac
hes were covered withhoar-frost. On entering the room he delivered the military salute, andsaid briskly:
"Good even, citizens. Have you room for a moment at fire and lamplightfor a mounted artilleryman of the Army of the Rhine?"
"By heaven, yes!" replied Castillon, stepping away from the fireplace tomake room for the newcomer; then gazing at him curiously, he added: "Buttell me, comrade, this doesn't seem to be the first time we two havemet?"
"Quite likely not," replied the cannonier, in turn searching Castillon'sfeatures. "In fact, listen here, we met on an occasion which is, byheaven, difficult to forget--a meeting without its like!"
"Last year, on the second of September--"
"At the prison of La Force!"
"When we purged it of the priests, the holy shaven-pates, and thearistocrats."
"Comrade, you are James Duchemin," cried Captain Martin, seizing him bythe hand. "I heard your name pronounced in the National Assembly alongwith the other names of those who had given themselves to thefatherland. I admire your devotion. You offered all you possessed--yourlife and your two horses."
"Ah, you were at the Assembly that day?"
"Aye, I came from the Abbey."
"Where you also did work?"
"A fatal and terrible necessity. I believed so then and think so still.Death to the aristocrats and priests! But how one does meet! Come, aglass of wine, my old friend."
"That is not to be refused, comrade. I am frozen numb," returnedDuchemin; and added, in a tone of bitter recrimination, "That brigand ofa Reddy!"
"Of what 'Reddy' do you speak, friend?"
"Oh, that is the name of one of the horses I gave to the country. Wewere enrolled, my two beasts and I, in '92, in the Second Battalion,Flying Artillery. But my other horse, my Double-grey, was missing fromroll call after the battle of Watignies, because of a little impedimentin the way of a four-pound cannon ball, which he received in the bellywhile one of the servants of my darling Carmagnole was riding him."
"What, you have a sweetheart whom you call Carmagnole? The idea is adroll one!"
"That is how I christened the four-pounder I had charge of in mybattery. Ah, citizens," added Duchemin, in reply to the volunteers'mirth at his explanation, "if you only knew that beautiful little piece!Such an amorous little mouth--to spit fire and cannon balls at the noseof the Austro-Prussians and the other Ostrogoths."
"Come, come, old chap, do you take us for marines?" said Castillon,laughingly. "Do you want to give us the idea that pieces of artillery ingeneral--and Carmagnole in particular--have characters!"
"Whether they have characters! Just ask your good cannoniers about that,you'll hear their answer. There are slatterns of pieces on whom you cannever depend for a good shot. Whereas with Carmagnole--never a caprice.You train her so many lines' elevation--she'll fire just so high; somany lines' depression--she'll fire low. An angel of a spit-fire! A verylove!"
"Comrades," chimed in Captain Martin gaily, "captivated by thecharacter, the virtues and the bravery of Citizeness Carmagnole, Ipropose her health, and that of the brave artillerymen of the Army ofthe Rhine."
"To the health of Carmagnole! To the health of the artillerymen of theRhine!" chorused the volunteers, draining their glasses with Duchemin.Touched by this proof of sympathy for his cannon and his brothers inarms, the latter in turn raised his own glass and cried:
"Thanks, comrades, thanks! I shall convey your good wishes toCarmagnole, and I can tell you that in to-morrow's battle we shall beneither slothful nor over-hot, but just right. Meanwhile, I drink inher name and mine: To the health of the brave men of the Army of theMoselle. To the relief of Landau! Long live the Republic! To thelamp-post with the aristocrats, the black-caps, and all the Jesuits!"
"We shall raise the siege of Landau, or die!" enthusiastically acclaimedthe volunteers. "Long live the Republic!"
"Well, indeed, wo'd of honor, I don't believe I am going to have anyfear at all to-morrow!" exclaimed Duresnel, electrified by the ardor ofhis comrades. "Long live the Republic! Death to the aristocrats and downwith the skull caps!"
"Citizen Duresnel," replied Captain Martin, smiling, "you will see thatit is not such a devil of an undertaking to go under fire the firsttime, surrounded by gallant comrades."
"Faith, captain, I begin to believe it," replied Duresnel, whileCastillon said, addressing Duchemin:
"See there, old fellow, your love for Carmagnole has interfered withyour telling us your troubles with your horse, that brigand Reddy,formerly so patriotic a fellow, as you told us, and whom you suspect ofhaving been bought over by a peck of oats given him by an agent of Pittand Coburg."
"Well, comrades, to return to Reddy, yes, I say that dumb animal is apatriot at heart. Judge for yourselves: Lately, at the affair ofKaiserslautern, we were tearing along at a gallop with one wing of mybattery, to take up our position. I was helping along with the flat ofmy saber two wretches of drivers who had charge of the team of six thatdrew Carmagnole, and who looked out of sorts at going into action.Suddenly a squadron of Prussian Uhlans, until then hidden by a rise inthe ground, broke cover and charged upon us. We were supported by asquad of the famous Third Hussars. We met at full tilt. But right in themiddle of the embroglio my brave Reddy seized the horse of a Uhlan bythe mane. Reddy did not let go his hold--he lost his footing in thecrush--he fell, and me with him. There I was, pinned under him; butthanks to the intervention of the famous pair of the Third Hussars, Iwas able to escape. This was the first time I saw those two inseparablesof the Army of the Rhine, Victor and Oliver, two heroic fellows!"
"These two cavalrymen are called, you say, Oliver and Victor?" andCastillon continued thoughtfully to himself. "A singular idea those twonames suggest. What if the gallant pair should be our apprentice and ourmaster's sister! Despite the strangeness of the disguise, it is saidthere are in the army many patriotic women who enrolled to follow theirlovers to the war--"
While Castillon was thus reflecting, the report of a firearm rang outabout a hundred paces from the inn. One of the pickets had fired.Captain Martin at once spoke to an under-officer:
"Sergeant, take four men and go see what is up out there. It must becomrade Lebrenn who fired that shot."
"Perhaps he got a bead on some spy within the lines," suggestedDuchemin, as the sergeant hastened out with his guard.
The incident, however, passed almost unnoticed by Castillon, who,preoccupied with his own thoughts concerning the "pair" in the ThirdHussars approached Duchemin and asked:
"Comrade, did you ever see the two brave cavalrymen you spoke of,again?"
"Yes, often. After Kaiserslautern our battery was attached to theirdivision."
"How old would you say Oliver was?"
"He is eighteen or so; black haired, with blue eyes. He is a finelooking hussar; but in respect of beauty, his companion takes the shineout of him."
"Victor is also a pretty boy, then?"
"He is too good looking for a man. What an air of authority! What an eyeof fire!"
"No more doubt of it," murmured Castillon to himself. "It is CitizenessVictoria and Oliver, who have joined the hussars!"
At this moment the sergeant and his squad returned, minus one man whohad relieved John Lebrenn at his post. A man and a boy of ten or eleven,dressed as Alsatian peasants, were marched in by the volunteers.
The two seemed perfectly calm as they entered the inn-hall. They did noteven shudder when John Lebrenn announced:
"Captain, I think we have laid our hands on a couple of spies."
"And how did they fall into our picket lines, comrade Lebrenn?" askedCaptain Martin.
"I had posted my sentries, captain. The mist was so thick I could notsee the lights of the inn from my position. The ground, hardened by thefrost, carried sounds clearly. All at once I heard at some distance thesteps of men coming almost directly at me. I could distinguish alsothat they wore wooden shoes. I could see nothing, but I cried: 'Halt!Who goes there?' At the challenge the two individuals attempted to flee,but they
failed to perceive a patch of ice, on which their wooden shoesslipped. The noise of their fall reached me distinctly. I fired my gunto give the alarm, and plunged in their direction. I reached the pairjust as they regained their feet. I grabbed the man by his collar, theboy by his frock. They tried at first to break away, but soon realizingthat I had a tough grip, they offered no further resistance. The manaddressed me in some unintelligible jargon. Then my comrades ran up, andwe bring you the catch."
"You young brigand, you are swallowing a paper!" cried Captain Martin,rushing, but too late, upon little Rodin; for he it was, unrecognized byJohn Lebrenn as the latter had seen him but once before, and briefly,the day of the taking of the Bastille, when the vicious youngster hadattempted to make away with the annals of the Lebrenn family. Needlessto say, the man accompanying him, and also unknown to the company ofvolunteers, was his "sweet" god-father, his "gentle" god-father, his"dear" god-father Abbot Morlet. The wretched youngster had just theminute before quickly carried to his mouth one of his hands, which hehad up till then held hidden beneath his coat.
"Search the knaves!" ordered Captain Martin. And quickly raising littleRodin's blouse, he saw that the young one held his left hand tightlyshut. The captain pried it open, and some fragments of torn paper fellto the floor. John Lebrenn and Castillon discovered nothing upon thereverend Father Morlet. Carefully the captain pieced together thescraps of paper he had gotten from the Jesuit's god-son, but foundnothing but figures. After a moment's examination he cried:
"No doubt of it! The man and his brat are emissaries of the enemy. Theletter of which they were the bearers is in cipher, except two nameswhich I find in the fragments--Conde, and then another of which someletters seem to be missing;" and drawing nearer to the lamp, CaptainMartin added, "It is something like Plouar--Plouer--"
"Plouernel! without a doubt!" exclaimed John Lebrenn. "This ex-Count ofPlouernel, former colonel in the French Guards, was aide-de-camp to theDuke of Brunswick, and must now be serving in the Emigrant ranks of thePrince of Conde."
"Which is all the more probable since the corps of ex-nobles forms partof Wurmser's army which is to attack us at daybreak," replied CaptainMartin, while John Lebrenn muttered to himself: "To-morrow, perhaps, Ishall find myself again face to face, arms in hand, with that descendantof the Nerowegs whose life I saved last year."
"Your account will not take long to settle, you old rascal," saidCaptain Martin to the Jesuit, gathering together the pieces of thedespatch. "You will be conducted to headquarters and simply shot as aspy, after an examination by way of preface, of course. All the formswill be followed!"
The Jesuit, unmoved, seemed not to hear the captain's words, and madeanswer in a lingo invented by him for the occasion:
"_Rama o schlick!_"
"Yes, yes, _Rama o schlick_! It is clear as day. Yes, you will behanged!" replied Captain Martin imperturbably. Then he said to littleRodin, who stood no less stolid than his good god-father: "You commenceyour pretty trade quite young, you little scoundrel, you brigandette.Your audacity, your presence of mind don't seem to fail you in theleast. No doubt they charged you with the despatch in the hope that evenif arrested you would not be suspected of carrying it. You are too youngto be shot, but we will first give your trousers a good dusting and thensend you to a house of correction."
During this speech little Rodin showed himself the worthy pupil of hisgod-father and master. He did not wink an eyelid, although he kept hissnaky optics fixed on the captain. Then, beating his chest with one handwith an air of compunction, he carried the other to each ear in turn andto his mouth, as a pantomimic indication that he was deaf and dumb.
"So, poor lad, you are deaf and dumb?" said the captain. "In that caseyou are free. Get out. May the devil take you."
But little Rodin remained motionless, not seeming to have heard.Instead, he made a new sign that he could neither hear nor speak, andheaved a most lamentable sigh. The sigh, the motions and the face of theboy were stamped with such an air of sincerity that Captain Martin andthe brave volunteers who witnessed the scene began to believe that theJesuit's god-son had indeed the use of neither faculty.
The captain continued: "If this little beggar is, indeed, as he seems tobe, a deaf-mute, we shall send him to Abbot Sicard. He will have asplendid pupil!" Then, turning to the Jesuit: "But you, old rogue, whoare neither dumb nor deaf, you shall be recompensed as you deserve!Come, off to headquarters!"
"_Mira ta bi lou!_" replied the Jesuit, simulating the impatience of aman tired of listening to gibberish.
"I understand perfectly," the captain said. "Be easy, you shall be wellhanged." He thereupon turned to John Lebrenn, saying, "You, comrade,will take the prisoners to headquarters, and transmit these shreds ofpaper to the staff-officer to whom you give the account of your capture.One or two volunteers will accompany you to keep watch on the tworascals."
"Do not weaken your post, Citizen Captain," said Duchemin. "On my wayback to my battery I shall accompany my comrade as far as the General'squarters."
Then John Lebrenn, noticing for the first time the cannonier whosepatriotism had so strongly touched him a year before, cried out:"Citizen James Duchemin!"
"Present, comrade! But how the deuce did you know me?"
"I'll tell you on our way to the General's," replied John. And soon,taking the Jesuit by the collar while Duchemin seized little Rodinfirmly by the hand, the volunteer and the artilleryman left the inn andset out towards the burg of Ingelsheim.
"The capture of the two spies prevented me from acquainting friend Johnwith what I have discovered as to Citizeness Victoria and our apprenticeOliver," thought Castillon that night as he stretched himself out torest on his pallet of straw. "Well, the confidence will come a littlelater!"