CHAPTER XII.

  THE GALLEY-SLAVE AND THE GENERAL.

  About eighteen months have elapsed since the memorable day of theimposing ceremonies described in the previous chapter, that were so richwith splendid promises to France--and all the world. It is after thelapse of that period that we are now to meet again Marik Lebrenn and hisfamily.

  The following scene was taking place in the early part of the month ofSeptember, in 1849, at the convict-prison of Rochefort.

  The meal hour had sounded. The convicts were eating.

  One of the galley-slaves, attired like all the others in the regulationred vest and red cap, with the _manille_, or iron ring fastened to aheavy chain, on his feet, sat on a stone, and was biting into a chunk ofblack bread.

  The galley-slave was Marik Lebrenn.

  He had been sentenced to hard labor by a council of war after the Juneinsurrection of 1848.

  The merchant's features preserved their usual expression of serenity andfirmness. The only change in him was that his face, exposed during hisarduous work to the scorching heat of the sun on the water, hadacquired, one might say, the color of brick.

  A guard, with sword at his side and cane in hand, after having lookedover several groups of convicts, stopped, as if he were in search ofsomeone, and then, pointing with his cane in the direction of MarikLebrenn, called out:

  "Halloa, down there--number eleven hundred and twenty!"

  The merchant continued to eat his black bread with a hearty appetite anddid not answer.

  "Number eleven hundred and twenty!" repeated the guard in a loudervoice. "Don't you hear me, scamp!"

  Continued silence on the part of Lebrenn.

  Grumbling and put out at being obliged to take a few more steps, theguard approached Lebrenn at a rapid pace, and touching him with the endof his cane, addressed him roughly:

  "The devil! Are you deaf? Answer me, you brute!"

  As Lebrenn felt himself touched by the guard's cane his face lowered,but quickly suppressing the impulse to anger and indignation, heanswered calmly:

  "What do you want?"

  "I called you twice--eleven hundred and twenty! And you did not answer.Do you expect to escape me in that way? Look out!"

  "Come, be not so brutal!" answered Lebrenn, shrugging his shoulders. "Idid not answer you because I have not yet become accustomed to hearingmyself called by any but my own name--and I am always forgetting that mypresent name is _eleven hundred and twenty_."

  "Enough of argumentation! Step up, and come to the Commissioner ofMarine."

  "What for?"

  "None of your business. Step up! march! quick!"

  "I follow you," said Lebrenn with imperturbable calmness.

  After crossing a part of the port, the guard, followed closely by thegalley-slave, arrived at the door of the Commissioner in charge of theconvicts.

  "Will you kindly notify the Commissioner that I have brought him numbereleven hundred and twenty?" said the guard to one of the keepers at thedoor.

  A minute later the keeper returned, ordered the merchant to follow him,led him down a long corridor, and opening the door of a richly furnishedroom, said to Lebrenn:

  "Walk in, and wait there."

  "How is that?" asked the astonished merchant. "You leave me alone?"

  "The Commissioner so ordered me."

  "The devil!" exclaimed Lebrenn smiling. "This is a mark of confidencethat flatters me greatly."

  The keeper closed the door and left.

  "Once more, the devil!" said Lebrenn with a broader grin as his eyesalighted upon an inviting arm-chair. "This is a good opportunity for meto enjoy a more comfortable seat than the stone benches of the prisonyard."

  And comfortably dropping into the soft seat he proceeded:

  "No question about it, a good arm-chair is one of the comforts of life."

  At that moment a side door opened and Lebrenn saw a tall man in theuniform of Brigadier General--blue coat, gold epaulettes and dark browntrousers--enter the apartment.

  At the sight of the staff officer, Lebrenn was seized with surprise, satup straight, and cried:

  "Monsieur Plouernel!"

  "Who did not forget the evening of February 23, 1848, monsieur,"answered the General, stepping forward, and cordially extending his handto Lebrenn. The latter took the proffered hand, and, while doing so, sawand considered the meaning of the two silver stars that ornamented theCount of Plouernel's epaulettes. With a smile of good-natured irony themerchant replied:

  "You have become a General in the service of the Republic, monsieur, andI a galley-slave! You must admit, this is piquant."

  The Count of Plouernel contemplated the merchant with astonishment. Hehad expected to see him either utterly dejected, or in a state ofviolent indignation. He found him calm, smiling and witty.

  "Well, monsieur," proceeded Lebrenn, keeping his seat while the General,standing before him, continued to contemplate the man with increasingwonderment. "Well, monsieur, it is almost eighteen months since thatevening of February 23, which it has pleased you to recall to memory!Who would then have thought that we would have met again in theposition in which we find ourselves to-day!"

  "Such fortitude!" exclaimed the Count of Plouernel. "This is heroism!"

  "Not at all, monsieur--it is simply a matter of a clean conscience, andof confidence."

  "Confidence!"

  "Yes. I am calm because I have faith in the cause to which I devoted mylife--and because my conscience assails me with no reproaches."

  "And yet--you are in this place, monsieur."

  "I pity the error of my judges."

  "You--the incarnation of honor, in the livery of infamy!"

  "Bah! That does not affect me."

  "Far from your wife, from your children!"

  "They are as often here with me as I am with them. The body is chainedand separated, but the spirit laughs at chains and space."

  And interrupting himself, Lebrenn added:

  "But, monsieur, kindly inform me by what accident I see you here. TheCommissioner of the prison sent for me. Was it only to afford me thehonor of receiving your visit?"

  "You would misjudge me, monsieur," answered the General, "were you tobelieve that, after owing my life to you, I could come here with noother motive than that of idle and offensive curiosity."

  "I shall not do you such an injustice, monsieur. You are, I presume, ona tour of inspection?"

  "Yes, monsieur."

  "I presume you learned I was here in prison, and you came, perhaps, tooffer me your good offices?"

  "Better yet, monsieur."

  "Better yet? Pray, what do you mean? You seem to feel embarrassed."

  "Indeed--I am; very much so--" replied the General, visibly put out ofcountenance by the calmness and easy manners of the galley-slave."Revolutions often bring about bizarre situations."

  "Bizarre situations?"

  "Yes," replied the General; "the situation in which we two findourselves at this moment, for instance."

  "Oh, we already have exhausted the obvious bizarreness of fate,monsieur!" remarked the merchant smiling. "That, under the Republic, I,an old republican, should be found on the galley-bench, while you, arepublican of recent date, should have been promoted to the rank ofGeneral--that is, no doubt, bizarre, we are agreed upon that. Whatelse?"

  "My embarrassment proceeds from another reason, monsieur."

  "Which?"

  "It happens--that--" answered the General, hesitatingly.

  "It happens that?"

  "I applied--"

  "You applied--for what, monsieur?"

  "And obtained--"

  "A pardon for me!" cried Lebrenn. "Why, that's charming!"

  And the situation brought about by the whirligig of politics was sodroll that the merchant could not refrain from laughing heartily.

  "Yes, monsieur," the General proceeded, "I have asked and obtained yourpardon--you are free. Mine has been the honor of carrying the news toyou personally."

/>   "One word of explanation, monsieur," said the merchant in a tone oflofty seriousness. "I do not accept pardon; but, however tardy, I doaccept atoning justice."

  "What do you mean?"

  "If, at the time of the fatal June insurrection, I had shared the viewsof those of my brothers who are here in prison with me, I would declineto accept a pardon. After having done like them, I would remain here asthey, and with them!"

  "Nevertheless, monsieur, your conviction--"

  "Was iniquitous. I shall prove it to you in a few words. At the time ofthe June insurrection, last year, I was a captain in my legion. Iresponded without arms to the call issued by the National Guard. There Ideclared loudly, very loudly, that it was only _without arms_ that Iwould march at the head of my company, my purpose being not to engage ina bloody conflict, but to endeavor to convince my brothers, that,notwithstanding they were exasperated by misery, by a deplorablemisunderstanding, and above all by atrocious deceptions, they shouldnever forget that the people's sovereignty was inviolable, and that, solong as the power which represented the same had not been legallyimpeached and convicted of treason, to revolt against that power, toattack it with arms instead of overthrowing it by means of the universalsuffrage, was a suicidal act, and was an impeachment of popularsovereignty itself.[10] About one-half of my company shared my views andfollowed my example. While other citizens were charging us with treason,bare-headed, unarmed, our hands fraternally linked, we advanced towardsthe first barricade in our path. The guns were raised at ourapproach--we were heard. Already our brothers understood that, howeverlegitimate their grievances, an insurrection would mean the immediatetriumph of the enemies of the Republic. At that juncture a hail ofbullets rained down upon the barricade behind which we were parleying.Ignorant, no doubt, of this circumstance, a battalion of the line hadattacked the position. Taken by surprise, the insurgents defendedthemselves heroically. The larger number were slain, a few were madeprisoners. Confounded among the latter, several others of my own companyand myself were seized and treated as insurgents. If I, thrown alongwith several friends of mine, into the underground dungeons of theTuileries and kept there three days and nights, did not go crazy; if Ipreserved my reason, it was that, in the spirit, I was with my wife andchildren. Dragged before the military tribunal I there told the truth;they did not believe me. I was sent to this place. So you see, monsieur,it is not pardon that is granted to me, but tardy justice. Nevertheless,that does not prevent me from being grateful to you for the efforts youhave put forth in my behalf. Well, then, I am free?"

  "The Commissioner of Marine will be here presently; he will confirm whatI have said to you. You can leave this place to-day--this hour."

  "Now, monsieur, finding you so well entrenched at court--the republicancourt," the merchant proceeded to say, smiling, "I wish you would bekind enough to use your good offices with the Commissioner that he grantme a favor which he may be inclined to refuse."

  "I am at your service, monsieur."

  "You see this iron ring that I carry on my leg, and to which my chain isfastened? Now, then, I would like to be allowed to take this ring withme. I shall pay for it, of course."

  "How! That ring! You would like to preserve it?"

  "It is merely a collector's mania, monsieur. I already own several smallhistoric curiosities--among others the casque which you so kindlypresented to me as a souvenir. I would like to join to them the ironring of the political galley-slave. You will understand, monsieur, that,to me and my family, the two curiosities together will mean a gooddeal."

  "Nothing easier, I believe, monsieur, than to meet your wishes. I shallso notify the Commissioner. But allow me a question--it may beindiscreet."

  "What is it, monsieur?"

  "I remember that eighteen months ago--and many a time and oft have Irecalled the incident--I remember that, when I asked you to keep mycasque as a memento of your generous conduct towards me, you answered--"

  "That that would not be the only article from your family that mycollection contained; not so?"

  "Yes, monsieur."

  "I told you the truth."

  "You also told me, I believe, monsieur, that the Nerowegs ofPlouernel--"

  "Had several times, in the course of the ages and of events, encounteredseveral members of my obscure slave, serf, vassal or plebeian family,"the merchant put in, completing the sentence of the Count of Plouernel."That is also true, monsieur."

  "And what were the occasions? What the circumstances? How come you to beinformed on events that took place so very long ago?"

  "Permit me, monsieur, to keep that secret, and pardon me for having sothoughtlessly awakened in you a curiosity that I may not satisfy. Stilllaboring under the intoxicating influence of that day of triumphantcivil war, and of the singular fatality that brought us, you and me,face to face, an allusion to the past escaped my lips. I regret it,because, I repeat--there are family remembrances that must never gooutside of the domestic hearth."

  "I shall not insist, monsieur," said the Count of Plouernel.

  And after a moment's hesitation he added:

  "I have another question, also, I presume, indiscreet--"

  "I listen, monsieur."

  "What do you think of seeing me serve the Republic?"

  "Such a question demands a frank answer."

  "I know you are incapable of making any other, monsieur."

  "Well, I think you have no faith in the continuance of the Republic.Your policy is to turn to the best use you can, in the interest of yourown party, the authority that the present government entrusts to youand many others. In short, you expect, at a given moment, to utilizeyour position in the army in favor of the return of _your master_, asyou call, I believe, that big boy, the last of the Capets and of theFrankish Kings by the right of conquest. The government is placing inyour hands weapons against the Republic. You accept them; it is all fairin war, from your viewpoint. As to me, I hate the monarchy of divineright by reason of the ills with which it has scourged my country. Ihave fought it with all my strength; nevertheless, never would I haveserved it with the intention of ruining it. Never would I have worn itslivery, or its colors."

  "Monsieur, I do not wear the livery of the Republic," answered GeneralPlouernel warmly. "I wear the uniform of the Army."

  "Come, monsieur," replied the merchant, smiling, "admit it, withoutreproach, that, for a soldier, what you have just said is, perhaps, alittle--a little _priestlike_. But let that pass--everyone serves hiscause in his own fashion. Besides, as you see, here we are, we two--youdecked in the insignia of power and of force; I, a poor man, dragging agalley-slave's chain, the very same as, fifteen hundred years ago, myforefathers wore the slave's iron ring. Your party is powerful andinfluential. It enjoys the good wishes and would, at a pinch, enjoy thematerial support of the monarchists of Europe. It owns wealth; it hasthe clergy on its side; furthermore, the waverers, the camp-followers,the cynics, the ambitious of all previous regimes, have rallied to yourside in the fear that popular sovereignty inspires them with. Theyproclaim aloud that, rather than democracy, they prefer the monarchy ofdivine right and absolute such as existed before 1789, even if it benecessary to have it supported by a permanent army of Cossacks. On theother hand, those of my party and I have implicit faith in the triumphof democracy."

  The entrance of the Commissioner of Marine put an end to theconversation between the General and the merchant. The latter obtainedwithout difficulty, thanks to the intervention of his "protector,"permission to take with him his iron ring, his _manille_ as the thing iscalled in the galleys.

  That same evening Marik Lebrenn proceeded to Paris.