CHAPTER XIX.
HE SEEKS AND BESTOWS THE HAND OF CLEMENTINE.
On the fifth of September, at ten o'clock in the morning, Leon Renault,emaciated, dejected and scarcely recognizable, was at the feet ofClementine Sambucco in her aunt's parlor. There were flowers on themantel and flowers in all the vases. Two great burglar sunbeams brokethrough the open windows. A million of little bluish atoms were playingin the light, crossing each other and getting fantastically mixed up,like the ideas in a volume of M. Alfred Houssaye. In the garden, theapples were falling, the peaches were ripe, the hornets were ploughingbroad, deep furrows in the _duchesse_ pears; the trumpet-flowers andclematis-vines were in blossom, and to crown all, a great mass ofheliotropes, trained over the left window, was flourishing in all itsbeauty. The sun had given all the grapes in the arbor a tint of goldenbronze; and the great Yucca on the lawn, shaken by the wind like aChinese hat, noiselessly clashed its silver bells. But the son of M.Renault was more pale and haggard than the white lilac sprays, moreblighted than the leaves on the old cherry-tree; his heart was withoutjoy and without hope, like the currant bushes without leaves and withoutfruit!
To be exiled from his native land, to have lived three years in aninhospitable climate, to have passed so many days in deep mines, so manynights over an earthenware stove in the midst of an infinity of bugs anda multiplicity of serfs, and to see himself set aside for atwenty-five-louis Colonel whom he himself had brought to life by soakinghim in water!
All men are subject to disappointments, but surely never had oneencountered a misfortune so unforeseen and so extraordinary. Leon knewthat Earth is not a valley flowing with chocolate and soup _a la reine_.He knew the list of the renowned unfortunates beginning with Abel slainin the garden of Paradise, and ending with Rubens assassinated in thegallery of the Louvre at Paris. But history, which seldom instructs us,never consoles us. The poor engineer in vain repeated to himself that athousand others had been supplanted on the day before marriage, and ahundred thousand on the day after. Melancholy was stronger than Reason,and three or four soft locks were beginning to whiten about his temples.
"Clementine!" said he, "I am the most miserable of men. In refusing methe hand which you have promised, you condemn me to agony a hundredtimes worse than death. Alas! What would you have me become without you?I must live alone, for I love you too well to marry another. For fourlong years, all my affections, all my thoughts have been centred uponyou; I have become accustomed to regard other women as inferior beings,unworthy of attracting the interest of a man! I will not speak to you ofthe efforts I have made to deserve you; they brought their reward inthemselves, and I was already too happy in working and suffering foryou. But see the misery in which your desertion has left me! A sailorthrown upon a desert island has less to deplore than I: I will be forcedto live near you, to witness the happiness of another, to see you passmy windows upon the arm of my rival! Ah! death would be more endurablethan this constant agony. But I have not even the right to die! My poorold parents have already sorrows enough. What would it be, Great God! ifI were to condemn them to bear the loss of their son?"
This complaint, punctuated with sighs and tears, lacerated the heart ofClementine. The poor child wept too, for she loved Leon with her wholesoul, but she was interdicted from telling him so. More than once, onseeing him half dying before her, she felt tempted to throw her armsabout his neck, but the recollection of Fougas paralyzed all her tenderimpulses.
"My poor friend," said she, "you judge me very wrongfully if you thinkme insensible to your sufferings. I have known you thoroughly, Leon,and that too since my very childhood. I know all that there is in youof devotion, delicacy and precious and noble virtues. Since the timewhen you carried me in your arms to the poor, and put a penny in my handto teach me to give alms, I have never heard benevolence spoken ofwithout involuntarily thinking of you. When you whipped a boy twice yoursize for taking away my doll, I felt that courage was noble and that awoman would be happy in being able to lean on a brave man. All that Ihave ever seen you do since that time, has only redoubled my esteem andmy sympathy. Believe me that it is neither from wickedness oringratitude that I make you suffer now. Alas! I no longer belong tomyself, I am under external control; I am like those automatons thatmove without knowing why. Yes, I feel an impulse within me more powerfulthan my self control, and it is the will of another that leads me."
"If I could but be sure that you will be happy! But no! This man, beforewhom you immolate me, will never know the worth of a soul as delicate asyours. He is a brute, a swash-buckler, a drunkard."
"I beseech you, Leon, remember that he has a right to my unreservedrespect!"
"Respect! For him! And why? I ask of you, in Heaven's name, what youfind respectable in the character of Mister Fougas? His age? He isyounger than I. His talents? He never shows them anywhere but at thetable. His education? It's lovely! His virtues? _I_ know what is to bethought of his refinement and gratitude!"
"I have respected him, Leon, since I first saw him in his coffin. It isa sentiment stronger than all else; I cannot explain it, I can butsubmit to it."
"Very well! Respect him as much as you please! Yield to the superstitionthat enchains you. See in him a miraculous being, consecrated, rescuedfrom the grip of Death to accomplish something great on earth! But thisitself, Oh my dear Clementine, is a barrier between you and him! IfFougas is outside of the conditions of humanity, if he is a phenomenon,a being apart, a hero, a demigod, a fetich, you cannot seriously thinkof becoming his wife. As for me, I am but a man like others, born towork, to suffer and to love. I love you! Love me!"
"Scoundrel!" cried Fougas, opening the door.
Clementine uttered a cry, Leon sprung up quickly, but the Colonel hadalready seized him by the most practicable part of his nankeen suit,before he had even time to think of a single word in reply. The engineerwas lifted up, balanced like an atom in one of the sunbeams, and flunginto the very midst of the heliotropes. Poor Leon! Poor heliotropes!
In less than a second, the young man was on his feet. He dusted theearth from his knees and elbows, approached the window, and said in acalm but resolute voice: "Mister Colonel, I sincerely regret havingbrought you back to life, but possibly the folly of which I have beenguilty is not irreparable. I hope soon to have an opportunity to findout if it be! As for you, Mademoiselle, I love you!"
The Colonel shrugged his shoulders and put himself at the young girl'sfeet on the very cushion which still bore the impression left by Leon.Mlle. Virginie Sambucco, attracted by the noise, came down stairs likean avalanche and heard the following conversation.
"Idol of a great soul! Fougas returns to thee like the eagle to hiseyrie. I have long traversed the world in pursuit of rank, fortune andfamily which I was burning to lay at thy feet. Fortune has obeyed me asa slave: she knows in what school I learned the art of controlling her.I have gone through Paris and Germany like a victorious meteor led byits star. I have everywhere associated as an equal with the powers ofEarth, and made the trumpet of truth resound in the halls of kings. Ihave put my foot on the throat of greedy Avarice, and snatched from hima part, at least, of the treasures which he had stolen fromtoo-confiding Honor. One only blessing is denied me: the son I hoped tosee has escaped the lynx-eyes of paternal love. Neither have I found theancient object of my first affections. But what matters it? I shall feelthe want of nothing, if you fill for me the place of all. What do wewait for now? Are you deaf to the voice of Happiness which calls you?Let us go to the temple of the laws, then you shall follow me to thefoot of the altar; a priest shall consecrate our bonds, and we will gothrough life leaning on one another, I like the oak sustaining weakness,thou like the graceful ivy ornamenting the emblem of strength."[10]
Clementine remained a few moments without answering, as if stunned bythe Colonel's vehement rhetoric. "Monsieur Fougas," she said to him, "Ihave always obeyed you, I promise to obey you all my life. If you do notwish me to marry poor Leon, I will renounce him. I love him devotedly,ne
vertheless, and a single word from him arouses more emotion in myheart than all the fine things you have said to me."
"Good! Very good!" cried the Aunt. "As for me, sir, although you havenever done me the honor to consult me, I will tell you my opinion. Myniece is not at all the woman to suit you. Were you richer than M. deRothschild and more illustrious than the Duke of Malakoff, I would notadvise Clementine to marry you."
"And why, chaste Minerva?"
"Because you would love her fifteen days, and then, at the first soundof cannon, be off to the wars! You would abandon her, sir, just as youdid that unhappy Clementine whose misfortunes have been recounted tous!"
"Zounds! Lady Aunt! I _do_ advise you to bestow your pity on _her_!Three months after Leipzic, she married a fellow named Langevin atNancy."
"What do you say?"
"I say that she married a military commissary named Langevin."
"At Nancy?"
"At that identical town."
"This is strange!
"It's outrageous!
"But this woman--this young girl--her name?
"I've told you a hundred times: Clementine!"
"Clementine what?
"Clementine Pichon."
"Gracious Heavens! My keys! Where are my keys? I'm sure I put them in mypocket! Clementine Pichon! M. Langevin! It's impossible! My senses areforsaking me! Come, my child, bestir yourself! The happiness of yourwhole life is concerned. Where _did_ you poke my keys? Ah! Here theyare!"
Fougas bent over to Clementine's ear, and said:
"Is she subject to these attacks? One, would suppose that the poor oldgirl had lost her head!"
But Virginie Sambucco had already opened a little rosewood secretary.Her unerring glance discovered in a file of papers, a sheet yellow withage.
"I've got it!" said she with a cry of joy. "Marie Clementine Pichon,legitimate daughter of August Pichon, hotel keeper, _rue des Merlettes_,in this town of Nancy; married June 10th, 1814, to Joseph Langevin,military sub-commissary. Is it surely she, Monsieur? Dare to say itisn't she!"
"Well! But how do you happen to have my family papers?"
"Poor Clementine! And you accuse her of unfaithfulness! You do notunderstand then that you had been taken for dead! That she supposedherself a widow without having been a wife; that--"
"It's all right! It's all right! I forgive her. Where is she? I want tosee her, to embrace her, to tell her--"
"She is dead, Monsieur! She died three months after she was married,"
"Ah! The Devil!"
"In giving birth to a daughter--"
"Where is my daughter? I'd rather have had a son, but never mind! Whereis she? I want to see her, to embrace her, to tell her--"
"Alas! She is no more! But I can conduct you to her tomb."
"But how the Devil did you know her?"
"Because she married my brother!"
"Without my consent? But never mind! At least she left some children,didn't she?"
"Only one."
"A son! He is my grandson!"
"A daughter."
"Never mind! She is my granddaughter! I'd rather have had a grandson,but where is she? I want to see her, to embrace her, to tell her--"
"Embrace away, Monsieur! Her name is Clementine: after her grandmother,and there she is!"
"She! That accounts for the resemblance! But then I can't marry her!Never mind! Clementine! Come to my arms! Embrace your grandfather!"
The poor child had not been able entirely to comprehend this rapidconversation, from which events had been falling like tiles, upon thehead of the Colonel. She had always heard M. Langevin spoken of as hermaternal grandfather, and now she seemed to hear that her mother was thedaughter of Fougas. But she knew at the first words, that it was nolonger possible for her to marry the Colonel, and that she would soon bemarried to Leon Renault. It was, therefore, from an impulse of joy andgratitude that she flung herself into the arms of the young-old man.
"Ah, Monsieur!" said she, "I have always loved and respected you like agrandfather!"
"And I, my poor child, have always behaved myself like an old beast! Allmen are brutes, and all women are angels. You divined with the delicateinstinct of your sex, that you owed me respect, and I, fool that I am,didn't divine anything at all! Whew! Without the venerable Aunt there,I'd have made a pretty piece of work!"
"No," said the aunt. "You would have found out the truth in going overour family papers."
"Would that I could have seen them and nothing more! Just to think thatI went off to seek my heirs in the department of Meurthe, when I hadleft my family in Fontainebleau! Imbecile! Bah! But never mind.Clementine! You shall be rich, you shall marry the man you love! Whereis he, the brave boy? I want to see him, to embrace him, to tell him--"
"Alas, Monsieur; you just threw him out of the window."
"I? Hold on, it _is_ true. I had forgotten all about it. Fortunatelyhe's not hurt, and I'll go at once and make amends for my folly. Youshall get married when you want to; the two weddings shall come offtogether.--But in fact, no! What am I saying? I shall not marry now! Itwill all be well soon, my child, my dear granddaughter. MademoiselleSambucco you're a model aunt; embrace me!"
He ran to M. Renault's house, and Gothon, who saw him coming, ran downto shut him out.
"Ain't you ashamed of yourself," said she, "to act this way with them asbrought you to life again? Ah! If it had to be done over again! Wewouldn't turn the house upside down again for the sake of your fineeyes! Madame's crying, Monsieur is tearing his hair, M. Leon has justbeen sending two officers to hunt you up. What have you been at againsince morning?"
Fougas gave her a twirl on her feet and found himself face to face withthe engineer. Leon had heard the sound of a quarrel, and on seeing theColonel excited, with flashing eyes, he expected some brutal aggressionand did not wait for the first blow. A struggle took place in thepassage amid the cries of Gothon, M. Renault and the poor old lady, whowas screaming: "Murder!" Leon wrestled, kicked, and from time to timelaunched a vigorous blow into the body of his antagonist. He had tosuccumb, nevertheless; the Colonel finished by upsetting him on theground and holding him there. Then he kissed him on both cheeks and saidto him:
"Ah! You naughty boy! Now I'm pretty sure to make you listen to me! I amClementine's grandfather, and I give her to you in marriage, and you canhave the wedding to-morrow if you want to! Do you hear? Now get up, anddon't you punch me in the stomach any more. It would be almostparricide!"
Mlle. Sambucco and Clementine arrived in the midst of the generalstupefaction. They completed the recital of Fougas, who had gottenhimself pretty badly mixed up in the genealogy. Leon's seconds appearedin their turn. They had not found the enemy in the hotel where he hadtaken up his quarters, and came to give an account of their mission. Atableau of perfect happiness met their astonished gaze, and Leon invitedthem to the wedding.
"My friends," said Fougas, "you shall see undeceived Nature bless thechains of Love."
CHAPTER XX.
A THUNDERBOLT FROM A CLEAR SKY.
"Mlle. Virginie Sambucco has the honor to announce to you the marriage of Mlle. Clementine Sambucco, her niece, to M. Leon Renault, civil engineer.
"M. and Mme. Renault have the honor to announce to you the marriage of M. Leon Renault, their son, to Mlle. Clementine Sambucco;
"And invite you to be present at the nuptial benediction which will be given them on the 11th of September, 1859, in the church of Saint Maxcence, in their parish, at eleven o'clock precisely."
Fougas absolutely insisted that his name should figure on the cards.They had all the trouble in the world to cure him of this whim. Mme.Renault lectured him two full hours. She told him that in the eyes ofsociety, as well as in the eyes of the law, Clementine was thegranddaughter of M. Langevin; that, moreover, M. Langevin had acted veryliberally in legitimizing by marriage, a daughter that was not his own;finally, that the publication of such a family secret would be anoutrage against the sancti
ty of the grave and would tarnish the memoryof poor Clementine Pichon. The Colonel answered with the warmth of ayoung man, and the obstinacy of an old one:
"Nature has her rights; they are anterior to the conventions of society,and a thousand times more exalted. The honor of her I called my AEgle, isdearer to me than all the treasures of the world, and I would cleave thesoul of any rash being who should attempt to tarnish it. In yielding tothe ardor of my vows, she but conformed to the custom of a great epochwhen the uncertainty of life and the constant existence of warsimplified all formalities. And in conclusion, I do not wish that mygrandchildren, yet to be born, should be ignorant that the source oftheir blood is in the veins of Fougas. Your Langevin is but an intruderwho covertly slipped into my family. A commissary! It's almost a sutler!I spurn under foot the ashes of Langevin!"
His obstinacy would not yield to the arguments of Mme. Renault, but itsuccumbed to the entreaties of Clementine. The young creole twisted himaround her finger with irresistible grace.
"My good Grandpa this, my pretty little Grandpa that; my old baby of aGrandpa, we'll send you off to college if you're not reasonable!"
She used to seat herself familiarly on Fougas' knee, and give him littlelove pats on the cheeks. The Colonel would assume the gruffest possiblevoice, and then his heart would overflow with tenderness, and he wouldcry like a child.
These familiarities added nothing to the happiness of Leon Renault; Ieven think that they slightly tempered his joy. Yet he certainly did notdoubt either the love of his betrothed or the honor of Fougas. He wasforced to admit that between a grandfather and his granddaughter suchlittle liberties are natural and proper and could justly offend no one.But the situation was so new and so unusual that he needed a little timeto adapt his feelings to it, and forget his chagrin. This grandfather,for whom he had paid five-hundred francs, whose ear he had broken, forwhom he had bought a burial-place in the Fontainebleau cemetery: thisancestor younger than himself, whom he had seen drunk, whom he had foundagreeable, then dangerous, then insupportable: this venerable head ofthe family who had begun by demanding Clementine's hand and ended bypitching his future grandson into the heliotropes, could not all at onceobtain unmingled respect and unreserved affection.
M. and Mme. Renault exhorted their son to submission and deference. Theyrepresented M. Fougas to him as a relative who ought to be treated withconsideration.
"A few days of patience!" said the good mother. "He will not stay withus long; he is a soldier and can't live out of the army any better thana fish out of water."
But Leon's parents, in the bottom of their hearts, held a bitterremembrance of so many pangs and mortifications. Fougas had been thescourge of the family; the wounds which he had made could not heal overin a day. Even Gothon bore him ill will without confessing it. Sheheaved great sighs while preparing for the wedding festivities at Mlle.Sambucco's.
"Ah! my poor Celestin!" said she to her acolyte. "What a little rascalof a grandfather we're going to have to be sure!"
The only person who was perfectly at ease was Fougas. He had passed thesponge over his pranks; out of all the evil he had done, he retained noill will against any one. Very paternal with Clementine, very graciouswith M. and Mme. Renault, he evinced for Leon the most frank and cordialfriendship.
"My dear boy," said he to him, "I have studied you, I know you, and Ilove you thoroughly; you deserve to be happy, and you shall be. Youshall soon see that in buying me for twenty-five napoleons, you didn'tmake a bad bargain. If gratitude were banished from the universe, itwould find a last abiding place in the heart of Fougas!"
Three days before the marriage, M. Bonnivet informed the family that thecolonel had come into his office to ask for a conference about thecontract. He had scarcely cast his eyes on the sheet of stamped paper,when Rrrrip! it was in pieces in the fireplace.
"Mister Note-scratcher," he said, "do me the honor of beginning your_chef-d'oeuvre_ over again. The granddaughter of Fougas does not marrywith an annuity of eight thousand francs. Nature and Friendship give hera million. Here it is!"
Thereupon he took from his pocket a bank check for a million, paced thestudy proudly, making his boots creak, and threw a thousand-franc noteon a clerk's desk, crying in his clearest tones:
"Children of the Law! Here's something to drink the health of theEmperor and the Grand Army with!"
The Renault family strongly remonstrated against this liberality.Clementine, on being told of it by her intended, had a long discussion,in the presence of Mlle. Sambucco, with the young and terriblegrandpapa; she tried to impress upon him that he was but twenty-fouryears old, that he would be getting married some day, and that hisproperty belonged to his future family.
"I do not wish," said she, "that your children should accuse me ofhaving robbed them. Keep your millions for my little uncles and aunts!"
But for once, Fougas would not yield an inch.
"Are you mocking me?" he said to Clementine. "Do you think that I willbe guilty of the folly of marrying now? I do not promise you to livelike a monk of La Trappe, but at my age, a man put together like I amcan find enough to talk to around the garrisons without marryinganybody. Mars does not borrow the torch of Hymen to light the littleaberrations of Venus! Why does man ever tie himself in matrimonialbonds?... For the sake of being a father. I am one already, in thecomparative degree, and in a year, if our brave Leon does a man's part,I shall assume the superlative. Great-grandfather! That's a lovelyposition for a trooper twenty-five years old! At forty-five or fifty, Ishall be great-great-grandfather. At seventy ... the French language hasno more words to express what I shall become! But we can order one fromthose babblers of the Academy! Are you afraid that I'll want foranything in my old age? I have my pay, in the first place, and myofficer's cross. When I reach the years of Anchises or Nestor, I willhave my halt-pay. Add to all this the two hundred and fifty thousandfrancs from the king of Prussia, and you shall see that I have not onlybread, but all essential fixings in the bargain, up to the close of mycareer. Moreover, I have a perpetual grant, for which your husband haspaid in advance, in the Fontainebleau cemetery. With all thesepossessions, and simple tastes, one is sure not to eat up one'sresources!"
Willing or unwilling, they had to concede all he required and accept hismillion. This act of generosity made a great commotion in the town, andthe name of Fougas, already celebrated in so many ways, acquired a newprestige. The signature of the bride was attested by the Marshal theDuke of Solferino and the illustrious Karl Nibor, who but a few daysbefore had been elected to the Academy of Sciences. Leon modestlyretained the old friends whom he had long since chosen, M. Audret thearchitect, and M. Bonnivet the notary.
The Mayor was brilliant in his new scarf. The _cure_ addressed to theyoung couple an affecting allocution on the inexhaustible goodness ofProvidence, which still occasionally performs a miracle for the benefitof true Christians. Fougas, who had not discharged his religious dutiessince 1801, soaked two handkerchiefs with tears.
"One must always part from those nearest the heart," said he on goingout of church. "But God and I are made to understand each other! Afterall, what is God but a little more universal Napoleon!"
A Pantagruelic feast, presided over by Mlle. Virginie Sambucco in adress of puce-colored silk, followed immediately upon the marriageceremony. Twenty-four persons were present at this family _fete_, amongothers the new colonel of the 23d and M. du Marnet, who was almost wellof his wound.
Fougas took up his napkin with a certain anxiety. He hoped that theMarshal had brought his brevet as brigadier general. His expressivecountenance manifested lively disappointment at the empty plate.
The Duke of Solferino, who had been seated at the place of honor,noticed this physiognomical display, and said aloud:
"Don't be impatient, my old comrade! I know what you miss; it was not myfault that the _fete_ was not complete. The minister of war was outwhen I dropped in on my way here. I was told however, at the department,that your affair was kept in suspense by
a technical question, but thatyou would receive a letter from the office within twenty-four hours."
"Devil take the documents!" cried Fougas. "They've got them all, from mybirth-certificate, down to the copy of my brevet colonel's commission.You'll find out that they want a certificate of vaccination or some suchsix-penny shinplaster!"
"Oh! Patience, young man! You've time enough to wait. It's not such acase as mine: without the Italian campaign, which gave me a chance tosnatch the baton, they would have slit my ear like a condemned horse,under the empty pretext that I was sixty-five years old. You're not yettwenty-five, and you're on the point of becoming a brigadier: theEmperor promised it to you before me. In four or five years from now,you'll have the gold stars, unless some bad luck interferes. After whichyou'll need nothing but the command of an army and a successful campaignto make you Marshal of France and Senator, which may nothing prevent!"
"Yes," responded Fougas; "I'll reach it. Not only because I am theyoungest of all the officers of my grade, and because I have been in themightiest of wars and followed the lessons of the master of Bellona'sfields, but above all because Destiny has marked me with her sign. Whydid the bullets spare me in more than twenty battles? Why have I spedover oceans of steel and fire without my skin receiving a scratch? It isbecause I have a star, as _He_ had. His was the grander, it is true, butit went out at St. Helena, while mine is burning in Heaven still! IfDoctor Nibor resuscitated me with a few drops of warm water, it wasbecause my destiny was not yet accomplished. If the will of the Frenchpeople has re-established the imperial throne, it was to furnish me aseries of opportunities for my valor, during the conquest of Europewhich we are about to recommence! _Vive l'Empereur_, and me too! I shallbe duke or prince in less than ten years, and ... why not? One might tryto be at roll-call on the day when crowns are distributed! In that case,I will adopt Clementine's oldest son: we will call him Pierre VictorII., and he shall succeed me on the throne just as Louis XV. succeededhis grandfather Louis XIV.!"
As he was finishing this wonderful speech, a _gendarme_ entered thedining room, asked for Colonel Fougas, and handed him a letter from theMinister of War.
"Gad!" cried the Marshal, "it would be pleasant to have your promotionarrive at the end of such a discourse. For once, we would prostrateourselves before your star! The Magi kings would be nowhere comparedwith us."
"Read it yourself," said he to the Marshal, holding out to him thegreat sheet of paper. "But no! I have always looked Death in the face; Iwill not turn my eyes away from this paper thunder if it is killing me.
"COLONEL:
"In preparing the Imperial decree which elevated you to the rank of brigadier general, I found myself in the presence of an insurmountable obstacle: viz., your certificate of birth. It appears from that document that you were born in 1789, and that you have already passed your seventieth year. Now, the limit of age being fixed at sixty years for colonels, sixty-two for brigadier generals and sixty-five for generals of division, I find myself under the absolute necessity of placing you upon the retired list with the rank of colonel. I know, Monsieur, how little this measure is justified by your apparent age, and I sincerely regret that France should be deprived of the services of a man of your capacity and merit. Moreover, it is certain that an exception in your favor would arouse no dissatisfaction in the army and would meet with nothing but sympathetic approval. But the law is express, and the Emperor himself cannot violate or elude it. The impossibility resulting from it is so absolute that if, in your ardor to serve the country, you were willing to lay aside your epaulettes for the sake of beginning upon a new career, your enlistment could not be received in a single regiment of the army. It is fortunate, Monsieur, that the Emperor's government has been able to furnish you the means of subsistence in obtaining from His Royal Highness the Regent of Prussia the indemnity which was due you; for there is not even an office in the civil administration in which, even by special favor, a man seventy years old could be placed. You will very justly object that the laws and regulations now in force date from a period when experiments on the revivification of men had not yet met with favorable results. But the law is made for the mass of mankind, and cannot take any account of exceptions. Undoubtedly attention would be directed to its amendment if cases of resuscitation were to present themselves in sufficient number.
"Accept, &c."
A gloomy silence succeeded the reading. The _Mene mene tekel upharsin_of the oriental legends could not have more completely produced theeffect of thunderbolts. The _gendarme_ was still there, standing in theposition of the soldier without arms, awaiting Fougas' receipt. TheColonel called for pen and ink, signed the paper, gave the _gendarme_drink-money, and said to him with ill-suppressed emotion:
"You are happy, you are! No one prevents you from serving the country.Well," added he, turning toward the Marshal, "what do you say to that?"
"What would you have me say, my poor old boy? It breaks me all up.There's no use in arguing against the law; it's express. The stupidthing on our parts was not to think of it sooner. But who the Devilwould have thought of the retired list in the presence of such a fellowas you are?"
The two colonels avowed that such an objection would never have enteredtheir heads; now that it had been suggested, however, they could not seewhat to rebut it with. Neither of them would have been able to enlistFougas as a private soldier, despite his ability, his physical strengthand his appearance of being twenty-four years old.
"If some one would only kill me!" cried Fougas. "I can't set myself toweighing sugar or planting cabbages. It was in the career of arms that Itook my first steps; I must continue in it or die. What can I do? Whatcan I become? Take service in some foreign army? Never! The fate ofMoreau is still before my eyes.... Oh Fortune! What have I done to theethat I should be dashed so low, when thou wast preparing to raise me sohigh?"
Clementine tried to console him with soothing words.
"You shall live near us," said she. "We will find you a pretty littlewife, and you can rear your children. In your leisure moments you canwrite the history of the great deeds you have done. You will want fornothing: youth, health, fortune, family, all that makes up thehappiness of men, is yours. Why then should you not be happy?"
Leon and his parents talked with him in the same way. Everythingappertaining to the festive occasion was forgotten in the presence of anaffliction so real and a dejection so profound.
He roused himself little by little, and even sang, at dessert, a littlesong which he had prepared for the occasion.
Here's a health to these fortunate lovers Who, on this thrice blessed day, Have singed with the torch of chaste Hymen, The wings with which Cupid doth stray. And now, little volatile boy-god, You must keep yourself quiet at home-- Enchained there by this happy marriage Where Genius and Beauty are one.
He'll make it, henceforth, his endeavor To keep Pleasure in Loyalty's power, Forgetting his naughty old habit Of roaming from flower to flower. And Clementine makes the task easy, For roses spring up at her smile: From thence the young rascal can steal them As well as in Venus's isle.
The verses were loudly applauded, but the poor Colonel smiled sadly,talked but little, and did not get fuddled at all. The man with thebroken ear could not at all console himself for having a slit ear.[11]He took part in the various diversions of the day, but was no longerthe brilliant companion who had inspired everything with his impetuousgayety.
The Marshal buttonholed him during the evening and said: "What are youthinking about?"
"I'm thinking of the old messmates who were happy enough to fall atWaterloo with their faces toward the enemy. That old fool of a Dutchmanwho preserved me for posterity, did me but a sorry service. I tell you,Leblanc, a man ought to live in his own day. Later is too late."
"Oh, pshaw, Fougas, don't talk nonsense! There's nothing
desperate inthe case. Devil take it! I'll go to see the Emperor to-morrow. Thematter shall be looked into. It will all be set straight. Men like you!Why France hasn't got them by the dozen that she should fling them amongthe soiled linen."
"Thanks! You're a good old boy, and a true one. There were five hundredthousand of us, of the same, same sort, in 1812; there are but two left;say, rather, one and a half."
About ten o'clock in the evening, M. Rollon, M. du Marnet and Fougasaccompanied the Marshal to the cars. Fougas embraced his comrade andpromised him to be of good cheer. After the train left, the threecolonels went back to town on foot. In passing M. Rollon's house, Fougassaid to his successor:
"You're not very hospitable to-night; you don't even offer us a pony ofthat good Andaye brandy!"
"I thought you were not in drinking trim," said M. Rollon. "You didn'ttake anything in your coffee or afterwards. But come up!"
"My thirst has come back with a vengeance."
"That's a good symptom."
He drank in a melancholy fashion, and scarcely wet his lips in hisglass. He stopped a little while before the flag, took hold of thestaff, spread out the silk, counted the holes that cannon balls andbullets had made in it, and could not repress his tears. "Positively,"said he, "the brandy has taken me in the throat; I'm not a man to-night.Good evening, gentlemen."
"Hold on! We'll go back with you."
"Oh, my hotel is only a step."
"It's all the same. But what's your idea in staying at a hotel when youhave two houses in town at your service?"
"On the strength of that, I am going to move to-morrow."
The next morning, about eleven o'clock, the happy Leon was at his toiletwhen a telegram was brought to him. He opened it without noticing thatit was addressed to M. Fougas, and uttered a cry of joy. Here is thelaconic message which brought him so much pleasure:
"To Colonel Fougas, Fontainebleau.
"Just left the Emperor. You to be brevet brigadier until something better turns up. If necessary, _corps legislatif_ will amend law.
"LEBLANC."
Leon dressed himself, ran to the hotel of the blue sundial, and foundFougas dead in his bed.
It is said in Fontainebleau, that M. Nibor made an autopsy, and foundthat serious disorders had been produced by desiccation. Some people arenevertheless satisfied that Fougas committed suicide. It is certain thatMaster Bonnivet received, by the penny post, a sort of a will, expressedthus:
"I leave my heart to my country, my memory to natural affection, my example to the army, my hate to perfidious Albion, fifty thousand francs to Gothon, and two hundred thousand to the 23d of the line. And forever _Vive l'Empereur!_
"FOUGAS."
Resuscitated on the 17th of August, between three and four in theafternoon, he died on the 17th of the following month, at what hour weshall never know. His second life had lasted a little less thanthirty-one days. But it is simple justice to say that he made good useof his time. He reposes in the spot which young Renault had bought forhim. His granddaughter Clementine left off her mourning about a yearsince. She is beloved and happy, and Leon will have nothing to reproachhimself with if she does not have plenty of children.
_Bourdonnel, August_, 1861.
FINIS.
NOTES
TO
THE MAN WITH THE BROKEN EAR.
NOTE 1, page 69.--_Black butterflies_, a French expression that we mighttastefully substitute for _blue devils_.
NOTE 2, page 72.--_The 15th of August_ is the Emperor's birthday.
NOTE 3, page 85.--_Centigrade_, of course.
NOTE 4, page 101.--Fougas' surprise is explained by the well-known factthat Napoleon was obliged to forbid the playing of _Partant pour laSyrie_ in his armies, on account of the homesickness and consequentdesertion it occasioned.
NOTE 5, page 118.--_Jeu de Paume_ (tennis-court), is the name given tothe meeting of the third-estate (_tiers-etat_) in 1789, from thelocality where it took place.
NOTE 6, page 161.--The English used by the two young noblemen is M.About's own. It is certainly such English as Frenchmen would be apt tospeak, and it is as fair to attribute that fact to M. About's fine senseof the requirements of the occasion, as to lack of familiarity with ourlanguage.
NOTE 7, page 164.--It is not without interest to note that M. About usedthe English word _gentlemen_.
NOTE 8, page 166.--_War against tyrants! Never, never, never shall theBriton reign in France!_
NOTE 9, page 214.--The original here contains a neat little conceit,which cannot be translated, but which is too good to be lost. The Frenchfor daughter-in-law is _belle fille_, literally "beautiful girl." ToFougas' address "_Ma belle fille!_" Mme. Langevin replies: "_I am notbeautiful, and I am not a girl._" It suggests the similar retortreceived by Faust from Marguerite, when he addressed her as _beautifulyoung lady!_
NOTE 10, page 230.--The Translator has intentionally used both thesingular and the plural of the second person in Fougas' apostrophe toClementine, as it seemed to him naturally required by the variations ofthe sentiment.
NOTE 11, page 248.--The reader will bear in mind Marshal Leblanc'sallusion to condemned horses.
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