Chapter 51
"Here is the 'Moniteur' now," said the quartermaster, opening the paper and reading aloud.
"To his oft-repeated a.s.surances that he would make no attempt upon his life--'"
A rude burst of laughter from George interrupted the reader here.
"I ask your pardon, sir," said he, touching his cap; "proceed. I promise not to interrupt you again."
"'That he would make no attempt upon his life, Greneral Pichegru obtained permission that the sentries should be stationed outside his cell during the night. Having provided himself with a f.a.got, which he secreted beneath his bed, he supped as usual in the evening of yesterday, eating heartily at eleven o'clock, and retiring to rest by twelve. When thus alone he placed the stick within the folds of the black silk cravat he generally wore round his neck, in such a manner as, when twisted, to act like a tourniquet; and having turned it with such a degree of force as to arrest the return of blood from the head, he fastened it beneath his head and shoulders, and in this manner, apoplexy supervening, expired.'"
"_Par Saint Louis_, sir," cried George, "the explanation is admirable, and most satisfactorily shows how a man may possess life long enough to be certain he has killed himself. The only thing wanting is for the general to a.s.sist in dressing the proces-verbal, when doubtless his own views of his case would be equally edifying and instructive. And see, already the ceremony has begun."
As he spoke, he pointed to a number of persons who crossed the terrace, preceded by Savary in his uniform of the Gendarmes d'lite, and who went in the direction of the cell where the dead body lay.
The prisoners now fell into little knots and groups, talking beneath their breath, and apparently terrified at every stir about them. Each compared his sensation of what he thought he heard during the night with the other's. Some a.s.serted that they distinctly heard the chains of the drawbridge creak long after midnight; others vouched for the quick tramp of feet along the corridors, and the sounds of strange voices; one, whose cell was beneath that of Pichegru, said that he was awoke before day by a violent crash overhead, followed by a harsh sound like coughing, which continued for some time and then ceased entirely. These were vague, uncertain signs, yet what horrible thoughts did they not beget in each listener's mind!
As I stood terror-struck and speechless, I felt a tap oif my shoulder.
I turned; it was the Abb, who, with a smile of peculiar irony, stood behind me.
"Poor Savary!" said he, in a whisper; "how will he ever get over this blunder, and it so very like the former one!"
He did not wait for a reply, but moved away.
"Who is to be the next, sir?" cried George, with a deep voice, as he saw the a.s.semblage thus accidentally collected about to break up. "Moreau, perhaps. One thing I bid you all bear witness to: suicide is a crime I 'll never commit; let no narrative of a cravat and a f.a.got--"
"Do you never eat mushrooms, General?" said the Abb, dryly; and whether from the manner of the speaker, or the puzzled look of him to whom the speech was addressed, the whole crowd burst into a fit of laughter,--the emotion seemed like one in which relief was felt by all.
They laughed long and loud; and now the faces that a minute before were marked by every character of deep affliction, looked merry and happy.
Each had some story, some apropos to tell, or some smart witticism to let off against his neighbor; and to hear them you would say that never was there a subject more suggestive of drollery than the one of suicide and sudden death.
And thus was it ever. No event, however dreadful,--no circ.u.mstance, however shocking,--could do more than momentarily affect those whose life possessed no security, was governed by no principle. Levity and unbelief--unbelief that extended not only to matters of religion, but actually penetrated every relation of life, rendering them sceptical of friends.h.i.+p, love, truth, honor, and charity--were the impulses under which they lived; and they would have laughed him to scorn who should have attempted to establish another code of acting or thinking. Such feelings, if they made them but little suited to all the habits and charities of life, certainly rendered them most indifferent to death; and much of that courage so much lauded and admired on the scaffold had no other source than in the headlong recklessness the prison had inculcated,--the indifference to everything, where everything was questionable and doubtful.
I struggled powerfully against the taint of such a consuming malady.
I bethought me
"Come, sous-lieutenant, it's your turn now!" said the turnkey, entering my cell one morning, where I sat alone at breakfast; "I have just received the orders for your appearance."
"How! where?" said I, scarcely able to do more than guess at the meaning of his words; "before the prfet, is it?"
"No, no; a very different affair, indeed. You are summoned with the _Chouan_ prisoners to appear at the Palais de Justice."
"The Palais!" said I, as for the first time for weeks past a sentiment of fear crept through me. "Are we to be tried without having a list of the charges alleged against us?"
"You 'll hear them time enough in court."
"Without an advocate to defend us."
"The President will name one for that purpose."
"And can the jury--"
"Jury! There is no jury; the Consul has suspended trial by jury for two years. Come, come, don't be downhearted; your friends without are singing away as gayly as though it were a festival. My faith, that Greneral George is made of iron, I believe. He has been confined _au secret_ these ten days, his rations diminished to almost a starvation level, and yet there is he now, with his countenance as calm and his look as firm as if he were at large on the hills of La Vende. Cheer up, then; let the example of your chief--"
"Chief! he is no chief of mine."
"That 's as it may, or may not be," replied he, gruffly, as though wounded by what he deemed a want of confidence in his honor. "However, make haste and dress, for the carriages will be here to convey you to the Palais. And there now are the Gendarmes d'lite a.s.sembling in the court."
As I proceeded to dress, I could see from the window of my cell that a squadron of gendarmes, in full uniform, were drawn up in the square of the prison, along one side of which were several carriages standing, each with two gendarmes seated on the box. The prisoners were confined to their walls; but at every window some face appeared peering anxiously at the proceedings beneath, and watching with inquisitive gaze every, even the slightest, movement.
Just as the clock struck nine the door of my cell was opened, and a greffier of the court entered, and, taking from a black portmanteau at his side a roll of paper, began without delay to repeat in a sing-song recitative tone a formal summons of the Grand Tribunal for the "surrender of the body of Thomas Burke, sous-lieutenant of the huitieme hussars, now in the prison of the Temple, and accused of the crime of treason."
The last word made me shudder as it fell from him; and not all my stoical indifference of weeks past was proof against such an accusation.
The jailer having formally listened to the doc.u.ment, and replied by reading aloud another, delivered me over to the officer, who desired me to follow him.
In the court beneath the greater number of the prisoners were already a.s.sembled. George, among the number, was conspicuous, not only by his size and proportions, but by a handsome uniform, in the breast of which he wore his decoration of St. Louis, from which descended a bright bow of crimson ribbon. A slight bustle at one of the doorways of the tower suddenly seemed to attract his attention, and I saw that he turned quickly round, and forced his way through the crowd to the place.
Eager to learn what it was, I followed him at once. Pus.h.i.+ng with some difficulty forward, I reached the doorway, on the step of which lay a young man in a fainting fit. His face, pale as death, had no color save two dark circles round the eyes, which, though open, were upturned and filmy. His cravat had been hastily removed by some of the bystanders, and showed a purple welt around his neck, on one side of which a ma.s.s of blood escaping beneath the skin, made a dreadful-looking tumor. His dress denoted a person of condition, as well as the character of his features; but never had I looked upon an object so sad and woe-begone before. At his side knelt Greorge; his strong arm round his back, while his great ma.s.sive hand patted the water on his brow. The stern features of the hardy Breton, which ever before had conveyed to me nothing but daring and impetuous pa.s.sion, were softened to a look of womanly kindliness, his blue eye beaming as softly as though it were a mother leaning over her infant.
"Bouvet, my dear, dear boy, remember thou art a Breton; rally thyself, my child,--bethink thee of the cause."
The name of the youth at once recalled him whom I had seen some months before among the _Chouan_ prisoners, and who, sad and sickly as he then seemed, was now much further gone towards the tomb.
"Bouvet," cried Greorge, in an accent of heartrending sorrow, "this will disgrace us forever!"
The youth turned his cold eyes round till they were fixed on the other's face; while his lips, still parted, and his cheek pale and flattened, gave him the appearance of a corpse suddenly called back to life.
"There, my own brave boy," said Greorge, kissing his forehead--"there, thou art thyself again!" He bent over till his lips nearly touched the youth's ear, and then whispered: "Dost thou forget the last words Monsieur spoke to thee, Bouvet? 'Conserve-toi pour tes amis, et centre nos ennemis communs!'"
The boy started up at the sounds, and looked wildly about him, while his hands were open wide with a kind of spasmodic motion.
"_Tonnerre de ciel!_" cried George, with frantic pa.s.sion; "what have they done with him? his mind is gone. Bouvet! Bouvet de Lozier! knowest thou this?" He tore from his bosom a miniature, surrounded with large brilliants, and held it to the eyes of the youth.
A wild shriek broke from the youth as he fell back in strong convulsions. The dreadful cry seemed like the last wail of expiring reason, so sad, so piercing was its cadence.
"Look, see!" said George, turning a savage scowl upon the crowd; "they have taken away his mind; he is an idiot."
"The General George Cadoudal," cried a loud voice from the centre of the court.
"Here," was the firm reply.
"This way, sir; the carriage yonder."
"Monsieur Sol de Gisolles!"
"Here," replied a tall, aristocratic-looking personage, in deep mourning.
Sous-Lieutenant Burke was next called, and I followed the others, and soon found myself seated in a close calecfie, with a gendarme beside me, while two mounted men of the corps sat at either side of the carriage with drawn swords. Picot, the servant of George, the faithful Breton, was next summoned; and Lebourgeois, an old but handsome man, in the simple habit of a farmer, with his long white hair, and soft kind countenance. Many other names were called over, and nearly an hour elapsed before the ceremony was concluded, and the order was given to move forward.
At last the heavy gates were opened, and the procession issued forth.
I was surprised to see that the entire Boulevard was lined with troops, behind which thousands of people were closely wedged, all the windows, and even the housetops, being filled with spectators.