The Whites and the Blues (10 page)

Vol.24-C

and fell fainting into the arms of the young man, who car ried her from the stage.

The curtain fell. Then a great tumult filled the hall.

The majority of the spectators took sides with poor Madame Fromont, applauding her madly, and shouted: "Enough! Enough!" Others called: "Citizeness Fro-mont! Citizeness Fromont!" as much with the intention of giving her an ovation as of obliging her to continue her role. A few malevolent ones, a few hardened Catos, Tetrell among their number, cried: "The play! The play!"

After this frightful tumult had lasted about five minutes, the curtain rose again, and the poor widow, clad in mourn ing garments, came out leaning upon Fleury's arm, feeling that his wound lent her some slight protection. She was scarcely able to stand as she endeavored to thank some for their manifest sympathy and to implore mercy of the others.

At sight of her the whole hall rang with shouts of ap plause, which would have been unanimous, if a hiss, com ing from the balcony, had not protested against this general opinion. But scarcely had the hiss made itself heard than a voice from the parterre answered it with the exclamation: "Wretch!"

Te'trell turned quickly,- and leaning over the balcony cried: "Who said wretch?"

"I," answered the same voice.

"And who did you call a wretch?"

"You."

"You are hiding in the parterre; just show yourself!' 7

' A youth, scarcely fifteen years of age, sprang upon the

bench with a single bound, and standing head and shoulders

above the people, cried: "Here I am. I show myself, as

you see."

"Eugene Beauharnais! The son of General Beauhar^ nais!" exclaimed several spectators, who had known the general during his stay in Strasbourg, and who recognized the boy, who had also been there for some time.

General Beauharnais had been much loved, and a group

gathered round the boy, whom Augereau on the one side, and Charles on the other stood ready to support.

"Whelp of an aristocratP' cried Tetrell, on seeing who his adversary was.

"Bastard of a wolf!" retorted the youth, refusing to lower his eyes before the threatening glanoe of the leader of the Propagande.

44 If you make me come down to you," shouted Te'trell, grinding his teeth, "you had better look out, or I will spank you."

"If you make me come up to you I will slap you," replied Eugene,

"Here, this is for you I" cried Tetrell, forcing himself to laugh, and spitting at Eugene.

"And that is for you, coward I" retorted the youth, flinging his glove, into which he had slipped a few leaden pellets, full at his antagonist.

Te'trell uttered a cry of rage, and put his hand to his cheek, which was all covered with blood.

Tetrell, in his thirst for revenge, could not stop to go round by the corridors. He pulled a pistol from his belt, aimed it at the boy, around whom a space was suddenly cleared, every one fearing to be struck by a ball from the weapon in Te'trell's trembling hand, which threatened every one in his vicinity.

But at the same moment a man wearing the uniform of the volunteers of Paris, and bearing the insignia of a ser geant's rank, threw himself between Tetrell and the boy, protecting the latter with his body, and folded his arms.

"That's all very well, citizen!" said he, "but when a man wears a sword he ought not to commit murder."

"Bravo, volunteer! bravo, sergeant!" came from every corner of the theatre.

"Do you know," he continued, "what this child, this whelp of an aristocrat, this brat, as you call him, was doing this morning while you were making fine speeches at the Propagande ? He was fighting to prevent the enemy

from entering Strasbourg. While you were asking for the heads of your friends, he was killing the enemies of France. Now, put up your pistol, which does not frighten me, and listen to what I have to say.''

Profound silence reigned in the hall and upon the stage; the curtain was still raised, and the actors, workmen, and soldiers of the guard had gathered there. It was in the midst of this painful silence that the volunteer continued, and although he did not raise his voice he could be heard perfectly on all sides.

"What I have to say further," resumed the sergeant, stepping aside from the boy, "is that this boy, who is nei ther the whelp of an aristocrat, nor a brat, but a man whom victory has to-day baptized a Kepublican upon the field of battle—this boy, after having insulted you, challenges you; after having called you a wretch, he calls you a coward, and awaits you with your second and whatever weapon you choose to provide, unless it be your favorite weapon the guillotine, with the executioner as your second. I tell you this in his name and mine, do you hear ? And I answer for him, I, Pierre Augereau, sergeant-major in the regiment of the volunteers of Paris! And now, go and hang yourself if you like. Come, citizen Eugene.''

' And picking up the boy he placed him on the floor, first lifting him up so high that every one in the room could see and applaud him frantically. And in the midst of these cheers and bravos, he left the hall with the two young fel lows, who were escorted to the Hotel de la Lanterne by half of the spectators, shouting: "Long live the Eepublic! Long live the volunteers of Paris! Down with Tetrelll"

CHAPTER IX

IN WHICH CHARLES IS ARRESTED

ON HEARING the tumult, which increased as the crowd approached the Hotel de la Lanterne, Ma dame Teutch appeared at the door. By the light of the torches with which some of the more enthusiastic were provided, she recognized her two guests and the ser geant-major, Augereau, whom they were bringing back in triumph.

The fear which Te'trell had sown among the populace was bearing its fruits; the harvest was ripe, and he was reaping hatred.

About thirty kind-hearted men proposed to Pierre Augereau that they should watch over the safety of his pupil, thinking it very possible that Tetrell would profit by the darkness to do him an ill turn. But the sergeant-major thanked them, saying that he himself would watch over his young friend's safety, and would answer for him. But, in order to retain the good-will of the people, which might be useful to them later, the sergeant-major thought it would be wise to offer the leaders of the escort a glass of punch, or some hot wine.

No sooner was the proposal made than they proceeded to invade the kitchen of the Lanterne, and to warm the wine, melt the sugar, and mix the beverage. It was mid night when they parted with cries of, "Long live the Re public!" interspersed with hearty handclasps, and strong oaths of alliance defensive and offensive.

But when the last one was gone, when the door was shut behind them, and the shutters closed so carefully that not even a ray of light could escape through them, Augereau grew very grave, and turning to Eugene said: "Now, my young pupil, we must think of your safety."

"What! of my safety? Didn't you just say that I had nothing to fear and that you would answer for my safety ?"

"Certainly, I will answer for you, but on the condition that you do what I say."

"And what do you want me to do? I hope you don't intend to suggest some act of cowardice.''

"Monsieur le Marquis," said Augereau, "I must have no more of those suspicions, or, by the Kepublic, you aud I will quarrel."

"Come, my good Pierre, don't get angry. What do you want me to do?"

"I have no confidence in a man who disguises himself with a nose like that when it is not carnival time. In the first place, he will not fight.''

"Why won't he fight?"

"Because he looks to me like a great coward."

"Yes, but suppose he does fight?"

"If he fights, there is nothing more to say; you risk only a ball or a sword-thrust. But if he doesn't, you risk having your head cut off, and that is what I wish to prevent."

"How?"

"By taking you with me to the barracks of the volun teers of Paris; he won't come after you there, I warrant."

"Hide? Never."

Tushl My little friend," said the sergeant-major, don't say such things before Pierre Augereau, whose courage cannot be questioned. No, you will not hide, you will simply wait there. That's all."

"What shall I wait for?"

"Citizen Tdtrell's seconds."

"His seconds? He will send them here, and I won't know that they have come, since I won't be here."

'' And little Charles ? He runs no danger, and what was he put on earth for except to bring us word of what hap pens? Heavens! what a hard customer you are, and what difficulties you put in a fellow's way."

"And the first thing that happens, no matter how insig-

K It

nificant, you will come to the barracks and tell us, won't you, Charles?"

* 1 1 give you my word of honor.''

"And now," said Augereau, "to the left I"

"Where are we going?"

"To the barracks."

"Through the court?"

"Through the court."

"And why not by the door?"

"Because if we go by the door some curious fellow might be watching, who would follow us just for fun, to see where we were going; while if we go by the court, I know of a cer tain little gate that leads to a lane where nothing passes, not even a cat. From lane to lane we will reach the barracks, and no one will know where the turkeys perch."

"You will remember your promise, Charles?"

"Although I am two years younger than you, Eugene, my honor is as good as yours; and, besides, the experiences of to-day have made me feel as old as you. Good-by and sleep well; Augereau will take care of your person and I of your honor."

The two boys clasped hands; and the sergeant-major al most broke Charles's fingers, he shook them so hard; then he drew Eugene out into the court, while Charles, with a slight grimace of pain, tried to separate his fingers. This operation finished, he took his candle and the key to his room as usual, and went upstairs.

But scarcely was he in bed before Madame Teutch en tered on tiptoe, making signs to him that she had some thing important to tell him. The boy understood Madame Teutch's mysterious ways well enough by this time not to be surprised at seeing her, even at this unheard-of hour. She approached his bed, murmuring: "Poor little cherub I"

"Well, citizeness Teutch,' 1 asked Charles, laughing, "what is it this time?"

"I must tell you what has happened, even at the risk of alarming you."

"When?"

"While you were at the play."

"Did anything happen then?"

"I should think so! We had a visit."

"From whom?"

"The men who came here before about Ballu and Du-oiont."

1 ' Well, I suppose they did not find them this time either.' '

1 ' They did not come for them, my pet.''

"For whom did they come, then?"

"They came for you."

"For me? And to what do I owe the honor of their visit?"

"It seems that they are looking for the author of that little note."

"In which I told them to get away as soon as possible?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

*' Well, they visited your room, and searched through all your papers.''

"That does not alarm me. They found nothing against the Eepublic."

"No, bat they found one act of a tragedy."

"Ah! my tragedy of 'Theramene.' "

"They took it with them."

"The wretches! Fortunately I know it by heart. 17

"But do you know why they took it with them ?"

"Because they found the verses to their taste, I pre sume."

"No, because they saw that the writing in the note was the same as that of the manuscript.''

4 ' Ah! this is getting serious.''

4 ' You know the law, my poor child; any one who gives shelter to a suspect, or Jielps him to escape—"

"Yes; it means death."

"Just hear the poor little fellow; he says that as he would, * Yes, bread and jam.' '

"I say it thus, dear Madame Teutch, because it cannot possibly affect me."

"What can't affect you?"

"The death penalty."

"Why can't it affect you ?"

'' Because one must be sixteen years old to aspire to the honor of the guillotine.''

"Are you sure, my poor child?"

"I have taken care to inform myself on the point. Be sides, yesterday I read on the walls a new decree of citizen * Saint-Just, forbidding the execution of any judgment until the account of the trial has been communicated to him, and he has questioned the convicted person. However—"

"What?" asked Madame Teutch.

"Wait. Here, give me some paper, and a pen and ink."

Charles took up a pen, and wrote:

Citizen Saint-Just, I have just been illegally arrested, and, having faith in your justice, I demand to be brought before you.

And he signed it.

"There, Madame Teutch," said he. "It is well to fore see every emergency in these times. If I am arrested, you must send that note to citizen Saint-Just."

"Good Lord! Poor little fellow, if such a mishap should befall you, I promise you to take it myself, and even if I have to wait all night in the anteroom i won't give it to any one but him."