CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE FIELD OF BLOOD.
Lugubrious was the scene which met the eye of a young man who trod theChamp de Mars, after the tragedy of which Bailly and Lafayette were theprincipal actors.
It was illumined by the moon two-thirds full, rolling among huge blackclouds in which it was lost now and then.
It had the semblance of a battle field, covered with maimed and dead,amid which wandered like shades the men charged to throw the lifelessinto the River Seine and load up the wounded to be transported to theGroscaillou Hospital.
The young man was dressed like a captain of the National Guards. Hepaused on the way over the Field, and muttered as he clasped his handswith unaffected terror:
"Lord help us, the matter is worse than they gave me to understand."
After looking for a while on the weird work in operation, he approachedtwo men who were carrying a corpse towards the water, and asked:
"Citizens, do you mind telling me what you are going to do with thatman?"
"Follow us, and you will know all about it," replied one.
He followed them. On reaching the wooden bridge, they swung the bodybetween them as they counted: "One, two, three, and it's off!" and slungit into the tide.
The young officer uttered a cry of terror.
"Why, what are you about, citizens?" he demanded.
"Can't you see, officer," replied one, "we are clearing up the ground."
"And you have orders to act thus?"
"It looks so, does it not?"
"From whom?"
"From the Municipality."
"Oh," ejaculated the young man, stupefied. "Have you cast many bodiesinto the stream?" he inquired, after a little pause during which theyhad returned upon the place.
"Half a dozen or so," was the man's answer.
"I beg your pardon, citizens," went on the captain, "but I have a greatinterest in the question I am about to put. Among those bodies did younotice one of a man of forty-five or so, six feet high but lookingless from his being strongly built; he would have the appearance of acountryman."
"Faith, we have only one thing to notice," said the man, "it is whetherthe men are alive or dead: if dead, we just fling them over board; ifalive, we send them on to the hospital."
"Ah," said the captain: "the fact is that one of my friends, not havingcome home and having gone out here, as I learnt, I am greatly afearedthat he may be among the hurt or killed."
"If he came here," said one of the undertakers, shaking a body while hismate held up a lantern, "he is likely to be here still; if he has notgone home, the chances are he has gone to his last long one." Redoublingthe shaking, to the body lying at his feet, he shouted: "Hey, you! areyou dead or alive? if you are not dead, make haste to tell us."
"Oh, he is stiff enough," rejoined his associate; "he has a bullet cleanthrough him."
"In that case, into the river with him."
They lifted the body and retook the way to the bridge.
"Citizens," said the young officer, "you don't need your lamp to throwthe man into the water; so be kind enough to lend it me for a minute:while you are on your errand, I will seek my friend."
The carriers of the dead consented to this request; and the lanternpassed into the young man's hands, whereupon he commenced his searchwith care and an expression denoting that he had not entitled the lostone his friend merely from the lips but out of his heart.
Ten or more persons, supplied like him with lights, were engagedlikewise in the ghastly scrutiny. From time to time, in the midst ofstillness--for the awful solemnity of the picture seemed to hush thevoice of the living amid the dead--a name spoken in a loud tone, wouldcross the space.
Sometimes a cry, a moan, or groan would reply to the call; but mostoften, the answer was gruesome silence.
After having hesitated for a time as though his voice was chained byawe, the young officer imitated the example set him, and three timescalled out:
"Farmer Billet!"
No voice responded.
"For sure he is dead," groaned he, wiping with his sleeve the tearsflowing from his eyes: "Poor Farmer Billet!"
At this moment, two men came along, bearing a corpse towards the river.
"Mild, I fancy our stiff one gave a sigh," said the one who held theupper part of the body and was consequently nearer the head.
"Pooh," laughed the other: "if we were to listen to all these fellowssay, there would not be one dead!"
"Citizens, for mercy's sake," interrupted the young officer, "let me seethe man you are carrying."
"Oh, willingly, officer," said the men.
They placed the dead in a sitting posture for him to examine it.Bringing the lantern to it, he uttered a cry. In spite of the terriblewound disfiguring the face, he believed it was the man he was seeking.
But was he alive or dead?
This wretch who had gone half way to the watery grave, had his skullcloven by a sword stroke. The wound was dreadful, as stated: it hadsevered the left whisker and left the cheekbone bare; the temporalartery had been cut, so that the skull and body were flooded with gore.On the wounded side the unfortunate man was unrecognizable.
The lantern-bearer swung the light round to the other side.
"Oh, citizens," he cried, "it is he, the man I seek: Farmer Billet."
"The deuce it is--he seems to have his billet for the other world--ha,ha, ha!" said one of the men. "He is pretty badly hammered."
"Did you not say he heaved a sigh?"
"I think so, anyhow."
"Then do me a kindness," and he fumbled in his pocket for a silver coin.
"What is it?" asked the porter full of willingness on seeing the money.
"Run to the river and bring me some water."
"In a jiffy."
While the fellow ran to the river the officer took his place and held upthe wounded one.
In five minutes he had returned.
"Throw the water in his face," said the captain.
The man obeyed by dipping his hand in his hat, which was his pitcher,and sprinkling the slashed face.
"He shivered," exclaimed the young man holding the dying one: "he is notdead. Oh, dear M. Billet, what a blessing I came here."
"In faith, it is a blessing," said the two men; "another twenty pacesand your friend would have come to his senses in the nets at St. Cloud."
"Throw some more on him."
Renewing the operation, the wounded man shuddered and uttered a sigh.
"Come, come, he certainly ain't dead," said the man.
"Well, what shall we do with him?" inquired his companion.
"Help me to carry him to St. Honore Street, to Dr. Gilbert's house, ifyou would like good reward," said the young captain.
"We cannot do that. Our orders are to heave the dead over, or to handthe hurt to the carriers for the hospital. Since this chap makes out heis not dead, why, he must be taken to the hospital."
"Well, carry him there," said the young man, "and as soon as possible.Where is the hospital?" he asked, looking round.
"Close to the Military Academy, about three hundred paces."
"Then it is over yonder?"
"You have it right."
"The whole of the place to cross?"
"And the long way too."
"Have you not a hand-barrow?"
"Well, if it comes to that, such a thing can be found, like the water,if a crownpiece or two----"
"Quite right," said the captain; "you shall not lose by your kindness.Here is more money--only, get the litter."
Ten minutes after the litter was found.
The wounded man was laid on a pallet; the two fellows took up the shaftsand the mournful party proceeded towards the military hospital escortedby the young officer, the lantern in hand, by the disfigured head.
A dreadful thing was this night marching over the blood-stained ground,among the stiffened and motionless remains, against which one stumbledat every step, or wounded wretches who rose on
ly to fall anew and calledfor succor.
In a quarter of an hour they crossed the hospital threshold.