The Sword of Honor Part 67

"Your last letters," replied John, "decided me to come to Paris, seeing the Republic was in danger of perishing. I think I could be useful to you in such a case, and also perhaps to the Republic, by still pulling a trigger against her enemies."

"The political situation is indeed grave. Nevertheless, there is no ground for fearing a catastrophe very soon. In the Council of Five Hundred there is an imposing republican majority; we are decided to preserve liberty, and to fight the clericals, Jesuits and monarchists to the finish."

"I doubt not your energy nor that of your friends; but the Republic has now been for some time deprived of the popular element, its life, its spirit, its strength."

"True; since Thermidor a great gap has been made in the republican ranks. You may be sure that General Bonaparte, for all his military renown, would never have dared affront Vergniaud, Danton, or Robespierre, had they been in the Council of Five Hundred. At their voice the people would rise in arms, and the ambitious dictator would be sent before the revolutionary tribunal."

"Belated regrets, my friend. But explain to me how it is that the Directorate, knowing full well the intrigues organized in Napoleon's favor by his brothers, by Fouche, and by that former Bishop Talleyrand, than whom no meaner rascal ever lived--how the Directorate was so weak as not to send this General Bonaparte before a court-martial, guilty as he was of deserting the army in Egypt, more than six hundred leagues from France? In the height of the Convention such an act would not have pa.s.sed unpunished."

"For this weakness of the Directorate, and our own indecision in the Council of Five Hundred, there are many causes. Sieyes is the soul of the conspiracy against the Const.i.tution of the year III, which he himself framed, while we republicans rather defend that Const.i.tution, defective as it is, in order not to throw the Republic open to new dangers. Sieyes, a member of the Directorate, and Roger Ducos, his colleague and accomplice, are at the head of the sworn enemies of the present Const.i.tution. Among these oppositionists are the majority of the Council of Ancients and some members of the Council of Five Hundred; then come a crowd of intriguers of all sorts, stock brokers, men with frayed reputations, get-rich-quick contractors, bourgeois weather-vanes, corruptionists, harpies, repentant Terrorists, like Fouche and your brother-in-law Desmarais, who is now a member of the Council of Ancients. Sieyes's object is to overthrow the Const.i.tution of the year III by a coup d'etat and replace it by a bourgeois oligarchy; on top of which would come a const.i.tutional monarchy similar to that of '92, and then it would be done for the Republic. That is the plan of the opposition. Now here is the situation of us republicans, who const.i.tute the majority of the Council of Five Hundred. We count on the support of two members of the Directorate, Moulins and Gohier, devoted to the Republic. Then in case of a conflict, we have cause to hope that General Bernadotte, whose influence may serve to blanket Bonaparte's, will march on our side. The Council of Five Hundred has, moreover, for braces, the remains of the several republican parties--Girondins, Mountainists, Jacobins, Terrorists--as well as a large number of former members of the Commune who escaped the scaffold after Thermidor, and belong to the bourgeoisie--men of progress and free thought."

"And the people," inquired John again, "the workingmen of the suburbs, are they also sunk in inertia? They should form a strong element for you."

"Alas, they live indifferent to public affairs, except some workingmen in Santerre's brewery and some old sans-culottes, such as your old foreman Castillon--whom you will no doubt see this morning, as I notified him of your arrival."

"Thank you, friend, for having arranged this pleasure for me. I shall be happy to see our brave Castillon."

"He is still the industrious and honest artisan of yore; only, credulous and nave as a veritable child of the people, he is like so many other sincere republicans, a great partisan of Bonaparte's."

"Castillon, once so devoted to the Republic!"

"Exactly, since there is not a better republican--G.o.d save the mark!--than this very General Bonaparte, according to Castillon and his friends."

Just then Martin's servant entered to hand him a letter, saying: "An ordnance dragoon has just brought this epistle, citizen, and awaits your answer."

Martin tore open the envelope and read aloud:

"Perhaps you recall, sir, an under-officer in the Third Hussars, who in the days of terrorism when the nation's honor sought refuge in the armies, fought with you in the defense of a battery at the battle of Weissenburg. This under-officer has made his way. He has had the happy fortune of serving under the orders of the greatest captain of ancient and modern times, on whom to-day hangs the safety of France.

"Knowing, sir, your renown as a painter of battles, I desire to engage you on a picture. I beg you to let me know at what hour to-day you can grant me an interview on the subject of this work, on which you may set your own price.

"Accept, sir, my best sentiments,

"OLIVER,

"Colonel of the Seventh Dragoons, aide-de-camp to General Bonaparte.

"Tell the soldier I await his colonel this morning," added Martin to the domestic, after a moment's thought.

The servant left the studio, and Lebrenn, to whom Martin had pa.s.sed the letter, began:

"My sister's forecast, I see, was not wide of the mark. 'Oliver,' she said to me, 'loves battles. He sees in war only a trade, a means to carve out a fortune--pride and ambition.' And Oliver has become a colonel and one of the staff officers of Bonaparte."

"This order for a picture," replied Martin, "is only a pretext to renew acquaintanceship with me, and attempt to bring me over into the party of his general."

"Painful as a meeting with Oliver will be, I almost congratulate myself on the opportunity. Who knows but I may be able to bring home the truth to him who was once my apprentice, and perhaps, thanks to my old influence over him, open his eyes to the light?"

"I would like to think, at least, that he will not show himself a monster of ingrat.i.tude toward you. I know all that he owes to your family, and above all to the devotion of your sister."

"Oliver wrote me several times from Italy to inform me of his rapid promotion in the army. Then the correspondence gradually died out, and now for two years I have completely ceased to receive news from him.

Such have been his forgetfulness and ingrat.i.tude!"

At this moment who should enter the studio but Castillon, accompanied by d.u.c.h.emin, the old quartermaster of the field-artillery of the Army of the Rhine and Moselle. The latter wore the fatigue uniform of the artillery, and the straps of his rank; his left arm hung in a scarf. His face, bronzed by the sun of Egypt, was dark as an Arab's. Unable to repress his tears of joy, Castillon fell into Lebrenn's arms, crying "Oh! Friend John!"

"Embrace me, my old Castillon," replied the latter, with unrestrained warmth. "I find you still as I left you, the best of men."

Lebrenn and his former foreman continued their conversation to one side, in low tones, while d.u.c.h.emin said to Martin, who was studying his face as if seeking to trace a resemblance:

"You don't recognize me, captain?"

"It seems to me I have seen you----" replied Martin dubiously.

"That blasted sun of Egypt has spoiled my complexion, else you'd remember d.u.c.h.emin, once cannonier in the Army of the Rhine and Moselle, where we served together."

"Aye, now I remember you, old comrade," cried the artist, seizing the other's hand. "And how is Carmagnole--and Reddy?" he added with a grin.

"My poor Reddy--he went the way of Double-grey," sighed the artillerist.

"He died like a brave war-horse. He received a ball in the body at the battle of Altenkirchen. As to Carmagnole, my sweetheart of a spit-fire, she split laughing, my pretty piece, while sending a triple charge of grape-shot into the Austrians. After which, widowed of my Carmagnole, I set out for the Orient."

"And so you went through the campaign in Egypt?"

"Bad luck to it, yes! A devil of a war! And Bonaparte!--Twist his noose without drum or trumpet! To leave the army in the lurch! Name of names, what cries, what shouts there were against the 'Little Corporal,' when it became known he had abandoned us. Had we caught him, we'd have tied his necktie for him!"

"_You left Egypt, then, after him?_"

"Three days after, with a convoy of wounded men they were sending back to France. Our ship had the luck to dodge the English cruisers and disembark us at Toulon. Thence I demanded to be sent during my recovery to my old Paris, to see again my St. Antoine and the sans-culottes of '93. They are not very thick now, but those who are still of this world are all good and solid, witness comrade Castillon, one of the first I encountered in the suburb. He told me that he was on his way to visit you, captain, and as an old soldier of the Rhine and Moselle and a pure Jacobin, I thought I might be permitted to follow along with him."

"You could not afford me a greater pleasure, comrade," the painter a.s.sented, cordially. "The faithful of '93 are scarce in these times."

"Monsieur Colonel Oliver asks to see you, citizen," announced the servant.

"Let Colonel Oliver enter. You, Castillon, and you, d.u.c.h.emin, are going to St. Antoine to have a talk with Santerre's workmen?"

"To meet here again at eight this evening, and decide what we shall do, in view of developments," added Lebrenn.

Colonel Oliver was introduced. The brilliant uniform of the dragoons besat him with natural grace; but his face was haughty, imperious and rude; every line in it denoted the arrogance of command. He did not at first recognize, or rather he paid no attention to, Lebrenn, Castillon and d.u.c.h.emin; but addressed himself straightway to Martin:

"I am delighted, citizen, to take this opportunity of renewing acquaintance with an old brother in arms."

"Citizen," politely rejoined Martin, "I am no less happy than yourself at the circ.u.mstance that brings us together, as well as three of our old comrades of the Army of the Rhine;" and he indicated the three friends.

Greatly surprised, Oliver held out his hand and quickly ran over to Lebrenn, crying, "Good meeting! You here? How are Madam Lebrenn and your son?"

"All the family are in good health; my son is growing up, and I hope to make a good republican out of him."

Castillon now approached, and slapping the colonel familiarly over the shoulder, called out, "Say now, my boy--has your rank of colonel made you near-sighted?"

Oliver trembled and turned purple with rage. He looked Castillon up and down, and replied: "Who are you, sir, to permit yourself such familiarity?"