The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume II Part 10

"So much for popular politeness!" exclaimed the Russian, as he took up the tattered remains of a dress-coat, and exhibited it to the others.

"Pardon me, Prince," replied Ma.s.singbred, as he filled a gla.s.s of water and drank it off, "this courtesy I received at the hands of the military. I was turning my cab from the Boulevard to enter this street, when a hoa.r.s.e challenge of a sentry, saying I know not what, attracted my attention. I drew up short to learn, and then suddenly came a rush of the people from behind, which terrified my horse, and set him off at speed; the uproar increasing, the affrighted animal dashed madly onward, the crowd flying on every side, when suddenly a bullet whizzed past my head, cutting my hat in two; a second, at the same instant, struck my horse, and killed him on the spot, cab and all rolling over as he fell.

How I arose, gained my legs, and was swept away by the dense torrent of the populace, are events of which I am very far from clear. I only know that although the occurrence happened within half an hour ago, it seems to _me_ an affair of days since."

"You were, doubtless, within some line of outposts when first challenged," said the Pole, "and the speed at which you drove was believed to be an arranged plan of attack, for you say the mob followed you."

"Very possibly your explanation is the correct one," said Ma.s.singbred, coolly; "but I looked for more steadiness and composure from the troops, while I certainly did not antic.i.p.ate so much true courtesy and kindness as I met with from the people."

"Parbleu! here's Ma.s.singbred becoming Democrat," said one. "The next thing we shall hear is his defence of a barricade."

"You'll a.s.suredly not hear that I attacked one in such company as inflicted all this upon me," rejoined he, with an easy smile.

"Here's the man to captivate your 'Belle Irlandaise,' Martin," cried one. "Already is he a hero and a martyr to Royal cruelty."

"Ah! you came too late to hear that," said the Pole, in a whisper to Ma.s.singbred; "but it seems La Henderson became quite a Charlotte Corday this evening, and talked more violent Republicanism than has been heard in a salon since the days of old egalite."

"All lights must be extinguished, gentlemen," said the waiter, entering hastily. "The street is occupied by troops, and you must pa.s.s out by the Rue de Grenelle."

"Are the mobs not dispersing, then?" asked the Russian.

"No, your Highness. They have beaten back the troops from the Quai Voltaire, and are already advancing on the Louvre."

"What absurdity!" exclaimed the Pole. "If the troops permit this, there is treason amongst them."

"I can answer for it there is terror, at least," said Ma.s.singbred.

"All the high daring and spirit is with what you would call the Sans-culottes."

"That a man should talk this way because he has lost a cab-horse!" cried the Pole, insolently.

"There are men who can bear the loss of a country with more equanimity,--I know that," whispered Ma.s.singbred in his ear, with all the calm sternness of an insult.

"You mean this for _me?_" said the Pole, in a low voice.

"Of course I do," was the answer.

"Where?--when?--how?" muttered the Pole, in suppressed pa.s.sion.

"I leave all at your disposal," said Ma.s.singbred, smiling at the other's effort to control his rage.

"At Versailles,--to-morrow morning,--pistols."

Ma.s.singbred bowed, and turned away. At the same instant the waiter entered to say that the house must be cleared at once, or all within it consent to remain close prisoners.

"Come along, Martin," said Ma.s.singbred, taking his arm. "I shall want you to do me a favor. Let us make our escape by the Rue de Grenelle, and I 'll engage to pilot you safely to your own quarters."

"Has anything pa.s.sed between you and Czernavitz?" asked Martin, as they gained the street.

"A slight exchange of civilities which requires an exchange of shots,"

said Jack, calmly.

"By George! I 'm sorry for it. He can hit a franc-piece at thirty paces."

"So can I, Martin; and, what's more, Anatole knows it. He's as brave as a lion, and it is my confounded skill has pushed him on to this provocation."

"He 'll shoot you," muttered Martin, in a half revery.

"Not impossible," said Ma.s.singbred. "He's a fellow who cannot conceal his emotions, and will show at once what he means to do."

"Well, what of that?"

"Simply, that if he intends mischief I shall know it, and send a bullet through his heart."

Little as Martin had seen of Ma.s.singbred,--they were but Club acquaintances of a few weeks back,--he believed that he was one of those smart, versatile men who, with abundance of social ability, acquire reputation for higher capacity than they possess; but, above all, he never gave him credit for anything like a settled purpose or a stern resolution. It was, then, with considerable astonishment that he now heard him avow this deadly determination with all the composure that could vouch for its sincerity. There was, however, little time to think of these things. The course they were driven to follow, by by-streets and alleys, necessitated a long and difficult way. The great thoroughfares which they crossed at intervals were entirely in the possession of the troops, who challenged them as they approached, and only suffered them to proceed when well satisfied with their account.

The crowds had all dispersed, and to the late din and tumult there had succeeded the deep silence of a city sunk in sleep, only broken by the hoa.r.s.e call of the sentinels, or the distant tramp of a patrol.

"It is all over, I suppose," said Martin. "The sight of the eight-pounders and the dark caissons has done the work."

"I don't think so," said Ma.s.singbred, "nor do the troops think so.

These mobs are not like ours in England, who, with plenty of individual courage, are always poltroons in the ma.s.s. These fellows understand fighting as an art, know how to combine their movements, arrange the modes of attack or defence, can measure accurately the means of resistance opposed to them, and, above all, understand how to be led,--something far more difficult than it seems. In _my_ good borough of Oughterard,--or yours, rather, Martin, for I have only a loan of it,--a few soldiers--the army, as they would call them--would sweep the whole population before them. Our countrymen can get up a row, these fellows can accomplish a revolt,--there's the difference."

"And have they any real, substantial grievance that demands such an expiation?"

"Who knows?" said he, laughingly. "There never was a Government too bad to live under,--there never was one exempt from great vices. Half the political disturbances the world has witnessed have arisen from causes remote from State Government; a deficient harvest, a dear loaf, the liberty of the Press invaded,--a tyranny always resented by those who can't read,--are common causes enough. But here we are now at the Place Vendome, and certainly one should say the odds are against the people."

Ma.s.singbred said truly. Two battalions of infantry, with a battery of guns in position, were flanked by four squadrons of Cuira.s.siers, the formidable array filling the entire "Place," and showing by their air and att.i.tude their readiness for any eventuality. A chance acquaintance with one of the staff enabled Ma.s.singbred and Martin to pa.s.s through their lines and arrive at their hotel.

"Remember," said the officer who accompanied them, "that you are close prisoners now. My orders are that n.o.body is to leave the Place under any pretext."

"Why, you can scarcely suspect that the Government has enemies in this aristocratic quarter?" said Ma.s.singbred, smiling.

"We have them everywhere," was the brief answer, as he bowed and turned away.

"I scarcely see how I'm to keep my appointment at Versailles to-morrow morning," said Ma.s.singbred, as he followed Martin up the s.p.a.cious stairs. "Happily, Czernavitz knows me, and will not misinterpret my absence."

"Not to say that he may be unable himself to get there," said Martin.

As he spoke, they had reached the door, opening which with his key, the Captain motioned to Ma.s.singbred to enter.

Ma.s.singbred stopped suddenly, and in a voice of deep meaning said, "Your father lives here?"

"Yes,--what then?" asked Martin.

"Only that I have no right to pa.s.s his threshold," said the other, in a low voice. "I was his guest once, and I 'm not sure that I repaid the hospitality as became me. You were away at the time."

"You allude to that stupid election affair," said Martin. "I can only say that I never did, never could understand it. My only feeling was one of grat.i.tude to you for saving me from being member for the borough. Come along," said he, taking his arm; "this is no time for your scruples, at all events."

"No, Martin, I cannot," said the other. "I 'd rather walk up to one of those nine-pounders there than present myself to your lady-mother--"

"But you needn't. You are _my_ guest; these are _my_ quarters. You shall see n.o.body but myself till you leave this. Remember what the Captain told us; we are prisoners here." And without waiting for a reply, Martin pushed him before him into the room.