Robert Tournay Part 23

General von Waldenmeer was seated at his table with a pile of maps and papers before him. At Tournay's entrance the two officers who were standing at the general's side withdrew to the further end of the room.

It was the same room in which the scene of the previous evening had taken place. On the table at the general's elbow stood his beer-mug, filled with his morning draught. The old soldier was evidently very much absorbed in the work before him, for his heavy brows were drawn over his eyes and his lips were moving as he studied the papers. From time to time he reached out his left hand mechanically and took up the beer-mug, refreshing himself with a long pull. With the exception of the two officers, there were no other occupants of the room.

The picture of Mademoiselle Edme, as she had appeared when pleading to the general in his behalf, was so vivid in Tournay's mind that he stood silently before the table, oblivious to his surroundings. He remained in this position for some minutes when the general, upon one of his searches for inspiration at the bottom of the beer-mug, glanced over the rim and saw the Frenchman standing like a statue before him.

"_Potstausend!_" he exclaimed, as soon as he had set down the mug and wiped the white froth from his mustache. "You were so quiet that I forgot your existence and have been studying out a plan of campaign against General Hoche under your very nose. He's a clever little man, is Hoche," continued the old German musingly. "There is some sport in beating him."

Tournay smiled quietly at hearing his idol patronizingly spoken of by an officer who had not won half his fame.

"I wish you better success than your predecessor in the attempt, General von Waldenmeer," he said.

The general smiled grimly at this. .h.i.t and then changed the subject by saying:--

"Last evening I told you that I would send you back to France with an escort to the frontier."

Tournay bowed affirmatively.

"Since then, Mademoiselle de Rochefort has told me in full the story of her escape from Tours, recounting your part in it, and dwelling most flatteringly upon your bravery and discretion."

Tournay bowed again in acknowledgment.

"The service you have rendered the daughter of my old friend, by effecting her rescue and bringing her here in spite of such great obstacles, makes my obligation to you deep, very deep. My honor and my inclinations are one, when they move me to accord you, not only your freedom, but to offer you a commission in my son's regiment, the Tenth Prussian heavy artillery."

If the general had ordered him out to instant execution or conferred upon him in marriage the hand of his daughter Gretchen, Tournay could not have felt more surprise. For a few moments he could find no words in which to answer, and the general turned to the papers he had just laid down.

"Is my entry into your service made a condition of my freedom?" he finally found breath to inquire.

The Prussian general looked up from the map he had been studying, pressing his fat finger upon it to mark the place.

"Certainly not," he replied, "I make no conditions in paying a debt."

"Then I will take my liberty, which you have promised to restore to me,"

answered Tournay, "and return to France."

It was now the general's turn to be surprised.

"You mean to say that you will go back to Paris?"

"I shall return to the French army at--It is needless to tell you where, as you have been studying the map so attentively."

"But," interrupted General von Waldenmeer, "within six months our allied armies will be in Paris. There will be no more Republic, and every one who has been instrumental in the death of King Louis XVI. and the destruction of the monarchy will have to pay the penalty. You are a young man. You have been led into this republicanism by older heads. I offer you an opportunity--not only of escaping the consequences of your folly but the chance of redeeming yourself by fighting on the right side--and you refuse?" and the general reached out for the beer-mug to sustain himself in his disappointment. He was so sincere in his offer and in his amazement at its refusal that the angry color on Tournay's cheek faded away and a smile crept to his lips.

"Come," said the old general, putting down his mug after an unusually long pull at the contents, "you are thinking better of it. I can understand a soldier's disinclination to desert his colors, but this is not as if I were asking you to be a traitor to your country. A von Waldenmeer would cut out his own tongue rather than propose that to any other soldier. I am putting it in your way to leave the service of a faction who by anarchy and rebellion have gained control of France.

Under the banner of the allies are the true patriots of your country.

You have only to throw off that red, white, and blue uniform and put on the colors of Prussia and you are one of them."

Again the flush of resentment rose to Tournay's cheek, but as he looked down upon the German general who in perfect good faith and seriousness made him such a proposal, and as he realized the utter impossibility of either of them ever seeing the subject in the same light, his look of anger changed to one of amus.e.m.e.nt, and a grim smile twitched at the corners of his mustache.

"I appreciate the honor you would do me, General von Waldenmeer, but I prefer to pay the penalty of my folly and remain loyal to the French Republic."

The general took up his papers again. "Very well," he said gruffly. "I will provide you with an escort over the frontier. It will be ready to start within the hour." His eyebrows came down and he became deeply immersed in the study of the map.

Tournay stood for a few moments looking at the fat forefinger of the old soldier as it traced its way over the surface of the map. His thoughts were of Mademoiselle de Rochefort. He wondered whether she had set out on her way to Hagenhof. He almost hoped that she had left and that he would be spared the pain of parting from her. Yet if she were still at Falzenberg he knew he never could force himself to leave and not make an attempt to bid her good-by.

It was with these conflicting emotions, mingled with a reluctance to mention her name to the gruff old general, that he said in a low voice:--

"Has Mademoiselle de Rochefort started on her journey to Hagenhof?"

He received no answer.

There had been a slight tremor in his voice as he spoke Edme's name.

Hesitating for a moment, he stepped to the table and placing one hand on it he asked again in a steady tone, "When does Mademoiselle de Rochefort go to Hagenhof?"

The one word "To-morrow" came abruptly out of the large head buried in the papers before him.

Tournay drew a sigh of relief. If she had gone away, leaving him no word, he would have been the most miserable of men. Without further words with the general he turned and left the room.

As he went along the hallway be heard the rustle of a woman's gown behind him, and turning, saw to his great satisfaction the figure of Agatha hurrying toward him.

"Agatha," he exclaimed, as she came up to him, "where is mademoiselle?

Can I see her?"

"Mademoiselle is in Frau Krieger's apartment at the further end of the east wing. If you will come with me I will show you where it is. It is fortunate that I have met you as I do, else it would have been difficult to find you in this large place."

"Then you were sent to fetch me?" inquired Tournay eagerly.

"I did not say that," replied Agatha with a quiet smile.

"But you evidently were in search of me," persisted Tournay.

"I have no time to answer questions now," she replied, with a laugh.

"Here is the room," and she ushered him into a long old-fashioned salon, whose uncomfortable pieces of furniture looked as if they had stood for generations staring at their own ugly reflections in the polished surface of the floor.

At one end of the room stood a porcelain stove in which a fire was burning; but the large white sepulchral object seemed to chill the atmosphere more than the fire could warm it. Two high windows hung with heavy curtains faced the square in front of the house, while in the rear two other windows looked out upon the courtyard.

Frau Krieger, the widow of a Prussian officer of high rank, had reserved the salon and one or two adjoining rooms for her own use, and saw with pride the remainder of her domicile turned into barracks by General von Waldenmeer and his staff.

"Wait here a moment and I will tell mademoiselle," said Agatha, traversing the salon and disappearing through a door in the further side. Tournay walked to the front window and glanced out on the street.

The sentinel at the porte-cochere was on the point of presenting arms to Ludwig von Waldenmeer, who rode out; and two of the general's staff officers stood smoking and chatting in front of the building. Tournay's alert ear caught the sound of light footsteps, and he turned just as Edme crossed the threshold from the inner room.

He had told himself many times within the last few minutes that the interview must be a brief one if he were to retain complete mastery over his feelings. As he approached her, his face, in spite of his efforts to control it, expressed some of the emotions which the sight of her awakened.

She extended her hand to him in her graceful, natural way, and he bent over it, mechanically uttering the words he had been repeating over and over to himself.

"I have come, mademoiselle, to say adieu."

At this, the color which had mantled her cheek as he touched her fingers disappeared.

"You have not seen General von Waldenmeer, then?" she asked quickly.