Francezka Part 27

I had often remarked upon the natural good sense which was the basis of Francezka's character, and saw at once the justness of her course.

"So," she said, bravely recovering her cheerfulness, "you will remain here to rest, and you shall leave when you like and I will follow you within the week."

I explained, however, that if I were at liberty to return at once I should go back to Brussels that very night and start for the Rhine country next morning. To this she agreed, when she saw I had reason on my side, but before I went she made me sup, and had brought out for me a bottle of the true lachrymae christi, of which her father had laid in a small store at a great price. By midnight I had said farewell to Francezka and was again in the saddle.

As I rode through the blackness and solitariness of the night I could but reflect upon the extraordinary courage and constancy of women when really put to the test. Francezka was the last woman in the world to be weak in the face of calamity. She had in her the making of ten good soldiers, including a general.

My master was at Philipsburg with his command when I again saw him. He was a.s.sisting the Duke of Berwick in the siege of that important place. I did not need to ask him if there was any news of Gaston Cheverny; I saw at the first glance there was none.

The siege went on steadily. We had in our army too many "red heels"

and _tourlourous_. The red heels were those luxurious and worthless young gentlemen sent us in chaises from the court, who had not one single idea of a soldier in their empty heads, and who were fit for nothing but to lead the forlorn hope, waving their swords frantically, and bawling "Follow me!" The _tourlourous_ were the raw levies, of whom we had more than was quite comfortable. To balance this, Prince Eugene had in his army eighty royal princes, which in itself was enough to account for the strange paralysis of this active old general.

But a dreadful misfortune lay in store for us. On the twelfth of June, at nine o'clock in the morning, Marshal, Duke of Berwick, while standing upon the banquette, and directing the captain of the siege, was struck by a cannon ball--whether French or Austrian, was never known--and was blown to pieces. In an instant of time he had made the whole journey from this country into the other one, and suffered not one pang. He had made twenty-nine campaigns, and had commanded in fifteen, and had never had his skin broken. Glory holds an invisible shield before her children. Caesar was never wounded, nor Pompey, nor Charlemagne, nor Henry IV, nor any of the great generals of Louis XIV.

But sometimes, the days of a warrior being accomplished, he is accorded death upon the Bed of Honor, as it was anciently called. The great Constable de Bourbon never received but one wound, and that his death wound, while leading the a.s.sault. Old Marshal Villars, lying at the age of eighty on his deathbed, said, when he heard how the Duke of Berwick had been called higher: "That man was ever lucky."

The sorrow and confusion brought about by this terrible loss is not to be described. But the soldiers, infuriated by the death of the great marshal, demanded Philipsburg as a sacrifice to his ashes, and the siege was conducted with the greatest fury.

Within three weeks from the time I had parted from Francezka in Brabant I received a message from her. She was at a little village, three miles from Philipsburg, and desired to see me.

I had no difficulty in getting away, and I reached the village where Francezka was, in the late afternoon. It was a small, peaceful place, lying in the lap of the hills, and the inn on the outskirts of it was plain, but comfortable. When I rode up, Francezka was awaiting me on the balcony of her room. Her traveling chaise was in the tavern yard, and I caught sight of Peter, with two men servants, and Elizabeth, Francezka's maid.

As always, Francezka seemed glad to see me. She knew I had no news of Gaston, and only asked me if search was still kept up for him. I told her yes, and that Count Saxe had increased the already large reward offered for news of Gaston. Also I told her that we were well convinced Gaston must be on the farther side of the Rhine; I did not say "if alive." I could not, with Francezka's lovely, miserable eyes upon me. But she was perfectly calm and collected. I never saw her more entirely mistress of herself.

I then asked her of her own affairs since we had parted. She told me that she had thought best to make the announcement of her marriage as public and as ceremonious as possible, and for that reason had invited all of the most considerable people of the neighborhood to the chateau of Capello on a certain day. She told me--poor, unhappy Francezka--that in antic.i.p.ation of a gala when Gaston should return, she had prepared handsome new liveries for all her servants, and had refurnished the red saloon, and had hung the Diana gallery with mirrors. These things she determined to display on the day she made the announcement.

"For, in spite of my heavy misfortune in not knowing where my husband is, it must ever be a day of congratulation and of honor with me when I tell the world that I am Gaston Cheverny's wife," she said proudly.

She had written to the Bishop of Louvain with her own hand, but by some accident he had heard before receiving the letter that Francezka was privately married--only that Count Bellegarde, his relative, was the happy man, instead of Gaston Cheverny. The bishop, pleased at his nephew's good fortune, wrote Francezka a letter of congratulation, warmly approving her marriage, and most indulgent toward the secrecy of it. But on receiving Francezka's letter, saying she was Gaston Cheverny's wife, the bishop changed his tune and sent Francezka a fulmination, in which he denounced the secrecy of the marriage excessively. To this Francezka replied, saying as the bishop was so incensed with her, she would reconsider a considerable gift she had intended making toward building the new wing of the palace, to which Madame Riano was so much opposed. This brought the bishop down on his marrow bones. Francezka, in spite of her trouble, was still Francezka, and a gleam of her old humor shone in her eyes when she told of the bishop's discomfiture, and especially that the threatened withdrawal of the gift was the suggestion of Father Benart, the bishop's brother.

I always knew the little priest was not devoid of either sense or humor.

When the day came Francezka said she was so torn with emotions she could scarcely go through with it, but pride and devotion to Gaston Cheverny held her up. And a great piece of good fortune befell her at the crucial moment--Madame Riano arrived unexpectedly from Scotland.

Another gleam of humor shot from Francezka's eyes when she told me that Madame Riano claimed to have had supernatural information in Scotland that a Kirkpatrick was in trouble, which brought her home; but Francezka thought that Madame Riano had by that time grown a little tired of her sojourn in the land of Goshen, as she represented Scotland to be. At all events, her coming was of extraordinary good fortune to Francezka; for having countenanced the marriage, and advised secrecy, Madame Riano could do no less than sustain Francezka.

"I made the announcement myself," said Francezka, "standing at the top of the Diana gallery, with the Bishop of Louvain on one side of me, my aunt on the other, and Father Benart, with Madame Chambellan, behind me, and before fifty persons of the highest quality I could gather together. I dressed myself splendidly for the occasion and wore all my jewels, and I don't think, Babache, that there was any note of apology in my voice for having married Gaston Cheverny. I told of his gallant ruse to save Count Saxe, of his being carried off, and being lost sight of, and of my determination to go in search of him. I felt, rather than saw, in the beginning, that many of those present were hostile to me, and did not cordially approve my course, but before I finished speaking there was a subtile change, a warming toward me.

When I had concluded, the Sieur de Montigny, eighty years old, arose and expressed for the company heartfelt wishes that I might find my husband, and that we might live long in joy and peace together."

Yes, it was easily understood how courage and devotion in the person of Francezka, with her eloquent voice and eyes to plead for her, had won her the victory over these people.

"The ordeal had begun for me most painfully, but it ended most hopefully. Surely if all those people believed that Gaston would be found, it was not for me, his wife, to give way to despair. Just as at the hour of our marriage, a storm had come up, followed by a clear and beautiful evening, so, on the morning of the day of which I have been telling you, rain fell, and a cold northeast wind made the June day as dreary as November. But while I was speaking I caught the gleam of the sun upon the ca.n.a.l, under the windows, and suddenly the day became inexpressibly beautiful; so I think, Babache, that my day and Gaston's will yet be sunshiny."

With this Francezka's face grew almost gay, but it was a lightning flash; it was not the steady and cheerful hope I had seen in her eyes when she told me first of her marriage.

She further told me that she was accompanied on her travels by Madame Chambellan for the sake of propriety; but beyond securing Madame Chambellan's comfort, I do not fancy that Francezka concerned herself further. This good, insipid, incapable lady was not a person to uphold any one, and answered Francezka's requirement for a lay figure perfectly.

I asked after my old friend Bold. Him, she said, she had left behind, not being minded to take the chances of traveling with him.

"And if Gaston should reach Capello while I am away he will have at least one faithful heart to greet him," she said.

Madame Riano remained at the chateau, and Francezka spoke with grat.i.tude of her courage and sympathy, which were never wanting in a good cause. I returned to camp by nightfall and reported to Count Saxe. Next day he went with me to pay his respects to Francezka and to concert with her any plan she might desire for the prosecution of the search. Francezka received us with her old grace and dignity, and blushed with pleasure at Count Saxe's tribute to Gaston Cheverny.

"And apart from my affection for Monsieur Cheverny," he said, "I feel myself peculiarly obliged to use every means to find him. We can not afford to lose such a man as your husband, Madame Cheverny."

Francezka thanked Count Saxe, and then sitting down at a table, we discussed pros and cons. The extent of the search which had already been made for Gaston seemed to frighten Francezka a little, but she bravely rallied. She said to Count Saxe that her whole fortune should be spent, if necessary, in this quest for her husband. Then Francezka told him of a new plan she had--to search all the Austrian prisons. It was by no means improbable that Gaston Cheverny, wandering about in his French uniform, and dazed with his wound, might have fallen in with Austrians, who would send him away with other chance prisoners.

This was so plausible a theory that Count Saxe was much struck with it, and said to Francezka:

"Madame, you would be a much better general than I, if once you would put your keen wit to the business."

Francezka smiled with pleasure. No sorrow nor anxiety that ate into her soul could keep her from relishing a compliment from so great a man as Count Saxe. My master, however, gently put before her the discomforts and dangers that might lie before her. Francezka only looked at him calmly and replied:

"Discomfort and danger are nothing to a woman in comparison with her best beloved."

Count Saxe said not one word further to discourage her, but, on the contrary, set himself seriously to work to help her. He offered to get letters from many royal and n.o.ble persons and officers of rank in both armies. Francezka, in thanking him, said, with tears in her eyes:

"I realize at this moment that I am, for the present, strangely alone in the world. I know not whom to advise with, except you, Count Saxe, and my good Babache. I know, however, one thing which is necessary to me, and that is, Babache. When you are not actually fighting, will you not lend me Babache, to help me search until I find my husband?"

"Madame," replied Count Saxe, "I do not lend him to you--I give him to you as long as you need him. He is the most valuable possession I have on earth; therefore you may measure my regard for you."

They both rose--so did I--and Francezka turned her cheek to Count Saxe, who kissed her reverently. Let those sneer at Count Saxe who will, about his Mademoiselle Verieres, his d.u.c.h.esse de Bouillon and the rest. I say no one respected a woman of honor more than Count Saxe. He was bewitched by Francezka's beauty, tears and devotion, and he began to tell her of so many officers, supposed to be lost in war, who had returned, sometimes after long years, to their friends, that he fixed the idea in Francezka's head, Gaston _must_ return. I said to him afterward, privately, that Francezka's determined belief that Gaston would be found would be unalterable after this conversation.

Count Saxe looked a little disturbed, but striking his forehead, cried out:

"Babache, I swear I knew not half I was saying; I saw only distressed beauty, faithful and devoted, and I would have perjured my soul to comfort her!"

It was concluded, at this conference, that as soon as Philipsburg fell, I was to accompany Francezka and Madame Chambellan to Prince Eugene's headquarters, and if necessary to Vienna, that the plan of looking for Gaston Cheverny in the Austrian prisons might be carried out.

We returned to our stations before Philipsburg, but I had several opportunities of seeing Francezka in the next few weeks. She posted large rewards for news of Gaston Cheverny, but not one single person appeared to claim them.

Philipsburg fell on the eighteenth of July. As soon as this was accomplished the campaign became perfunctory. In August, everything had simmered down, and actually the Crown Prince of Prussia, with some of the other too numerous princes in Prince Eugene's army, were given pa.s.sports to visit the French camp. This young Crown Prince of Prussia, afterward known as Frederick the Great, was the same one who had so much admired Francezka at the camp of Radewitz, four years before. Count Saxe suggested that Francezka should see him, and ask, through him, the help of the Prussians in her search.

On the day of this visit, therefore, a beautiful August forenoon, after a whole mob of princes had been entertained by the Duc de Noailles and other officers of high rank, Count Saxe invited to his tent the Crown Prince of Prussia. This tent was of purple and white silk, and was very luxurious; but luxury did not prevent Count Saxe from being a soldier as hardy as those old Greeks, who furiously chased and fought their enemies over the windy plains of Troy.

I had seen the crown prince many times at Radewitz. He always bore on his countenance some indications of greatness: the clear, steel blue eye of him, the forehead of a man born a captain. But at Radewitz his old brute of a father had treated him worse than a dog. Like his friend, Voltaire, he had been caned more than once. Now, times were better with him; but no man ever submitted to have a cane laid on his back without bearing marks upon his character long after the marks on his skin had disappeared. When I was a private soldier I always carried around my neck a little bag which contained my few treasures, and one of these treasures was a bullet for the sergeant who should order a lash laid on me. No sergeant ever ordered this.

When the crown prince was seated in Count Saxe's tent I went and fetched Francezka, who appeared with Madame Chambellan as her _dame de compagnie_. Francezka was dressed in the Spanish fashion that day--the costume was black, and I think she felt a distaste for gay colors, and meanwhile, she would not a.s.sume mourning; so this Spanish mantilla, which she wore with a grace inherited from her Spanish mother, well became her. The crown prince received her amiably, recalled their previous acquaintance at Radewitz, and repeated Count Saxe's compliments to Gaston Cheverny. At this, Francezka's face, which was a little pale, grew red with gratified pride. She asked the crown prince's a.s.sistance in publishing her rewards and making known Gaston's disappearance--and he promised with a fine grace. He had excellent manners when he chose, particularly when he had been his own master long enough for the novelty to have abated. He told Count Saxe afterward that Francezka, without being the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, was the most interesting.

In all this time no word had come from Regnard Cheverny. Francezka commented bitterly on this, and it much amazed me, as I had never seen any lack of affection on either side between the brothers.

At last, toward the middle of August, all things being arranged, I set out with Francezka on our travels in search of her lost love.

CHAPTER XXIII

A LOVING QUEST

Francezka had a natural desire to see the spot from which Gaston had disappeared, and to satisfy herself as to the search in those parts.

We traveled to Huningen, therefore, crossed the Rhine at the point below where the boat had crossed and came to the place, a low-lying Austrian outpost, at which Gaston had been last seen alive. From thence we hunted the Rhine country on both sides of the river before proceeding to Prince Eugene's headquarters, which had been moved farther back in the interior, toward the Taunus hills.