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diff --git a/old/brls10.txt b/old/brls10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfcb4e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/brls10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9783 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Barlasch of the Guard, by H. S. Merriman + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Barlasch of the Guard + +Author: H. S. Merriman + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8158] +[This file was first posted on June 22, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, BARLASCH OF THE GUARD *** + + + + +This etext was produced by Les Bowler, St. Ives, Dorset. + + + + +BARLASCH OF THE GUARD BY HENRY SETON MERRIMAN + + + + + "And they that have not heard shall understand" + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + +I. ALL ON A SUMMER'S DAY +II. A CAMPAIGNER +III. FATE +IV. THE CLOUDED MOON +V. THE WEISSEN ROSS'L +VI. THE SHOEMAKER OF KONIGSBERG +VII. THE WAY OF LOVE +VIII. A VISITATION +IX. THE GOLDEN GUESS +X. IN DEEP WATER +XI. THE WAVE MOVES ON +XII. FROM BORODINO +XIII. IN THE DAY OF REJOICING +XIV. MOSCOW +XV. THE GOAL +XVI. THE FIRST OF THE EBB +XVII. A FORLORN HOPE +XVIII. MISSING +XIX. KOWNO +XX. DESIREE'S CHOICE +XXI. ON THE WARSAW ROAD +XXII. THROUGH THE SHOALS +XXIII. AGAINST THE STREAM +XXIV. MATHILDE CHOOSES +XXV. A DESPATCH +XXVI. ON THE BRIDGE +XXVII. A FLASH OF MEMORY +XXVIII. VILNA +XXIX. THE BARGAIN +XXX. THE FULFILMENT + + + +CHAPTER I. ALL ON A SUMMER'S DAY. + + + + Il faut devoir lever les yeux pour regarder ce qu'on aime. + +A few children had congregated on the steps of the Marienkirche at +Dantzig, because the door stood open. The verger, old Peter Koch-- +on week days a locksmith--had told them that nothing was going to +happen; had been indiscreet enough to bid them go away. So they +stayed, for they were little girls. + +A wedding was in point of fact in progress within the towering walls +of the Marienkirche--a cathedral built of red brick in the great +days of the Hanseatic League. + +"Who is it?" asked a stout fishwife, stepping over the threshold to +whisper to Peter Koch. + +"It is the younger daughter of Antoine Sebastian," replied the +verger, indicating with a nod of his head the house on the left-hand +side of the Frauengasse where Sebastian lived. There was a wealth +of meaning in the nod. For Peter Koch lived round the corner in the +Kleine Schmiedegasse, and of course--well, it is only neighbourly to +take an interest in those who drink milk from the same cow and buy +wood from the same Jew. + +The fishwife looked thoughtfully down the Frauengasse where every +house has a different gable, and none of less than three floors +within the pitch of the roof. She singled out No. 36, which has a +carved stone balustrade to its broad verandah and a railing of +wrought-iron on either side of the steps descending from the +verandah to the street. + +"They teach dancing?" she inquired. + +And Koch nodded again, taking snuff. + +"And he--the father?" + +"He scrapes a fiddle," replied the verger, examining the lady's +basket of fish in a non-committing and final way. For a locksmith +is almost as confidential an adviser as a notary. The Dantzigers, +moreover, are a thrifty race and keep their money in a safe place; a +habit which was to cost many of them their lives before the coming +of another June. + +The marriage service was a long one and not exhilarating. Through +the open door came no sound of organ or choir, but the deep and +monotonous drawl of one voice. There had been no ringing of bells. +The north countries, with the exception of Russia, require more than +the ringing of bells or the waving of flags to warm their hearts. +They celebrate their festivities with good meat and wine consumed +decently behind closed doors. + +Dantzig was in fact under a cloud. No larger than a man's hand, +this cloud had risen in Corsica forty-three years earlier. It had +overshadowed France. Its gloom had spread to Italy, Austria, Spain; +had penetrated so far north as Sweden; was now hanging sullen over +Dantzig, the greatest of the Hanseatic towns, the Free City. For a +Dantziger had never needed to say that he was a Pole or a Prussian, +a Swede or a subject of the Czar. He was a Dantziger. Which is +tantamount to having for a postal address a single name that is +marked on the map. + +Napoleon had garrisoned the Free City with French troops some years +earlier, to the sullen astonishment of the citizens. And Prussia +had not objected for a very obvious reason. Within the last +fourteen months the garrison had been greatly augmented. The clouds +seemed to be gathering over this prosperous city of the north, +where, however, men continued to eat and drink, to marry and to be +given in marriage as in another city of the plain. + +Peter Koch replaced his snuff-stained handkerchief in the pocket of +his rusty cassock and stood aside. He murmured a few conventional +words of blessing, hard on the heels of stronger exhortations to the +waiting children. And Desiree Sebastian came out into the sunlight- +-Desiree Sebastian no more. + +That she was destined for the sunlight was clearly written on her +face and in her gay, kind blue eyes. She was tall and straight and +slim, as are English and Polish and Danish girls, and none other in +all the world. But the colouring of her face and hair was more +pronounced than in the fairness of Anglo-Saxon youth. For her hair +had a golden tinge in it, and her skin was of that startlingly milky +whiteness which is only found in those who live round the frozen +waters. Her eyes, too, were of a clearer blue--like the blue of a +summer sky over the Baltic sea. The rosy colour was in her cheeks, +her eyes were laughing. This was a bride who had no misgivings. + +On seeing such a happy face returning from the altar the observer +might have concluded that the bride had assuredly attained her +desire; that she had secured a title; that the pre-nuptial +settlement had been safely signed and sealed. + +But Desiree had none of these things. It was nearly a hundred years +ago. + +Her husband must have whispered some laughing comment on Koch, or +another appeal to her quick sense of the humorous, for she looked +into his changing face and gave a low, girlish laugh of amusement as +they descended the steps together into the brilliant sunlight. + +Charles Darragon wore one of the countless uniforms that enlivened +the outward world in the great days of the greatest captain that +history has seen. He was unmistakably French--unmistakably a French +gentleman, as rare in 1812 as he is to-day. To judge from his small +head and clean-cut features, fine and mobile; from his graceful +carriage and slight limbs, this man was one of the many bearing +names that begin with the fourth letter of the alphabet since the +Terror only. + +He was merely a lieutenant in a regiment of Alsatian recruits; but +that went for nothing in the days of the Empire. Three kings in +Europe had begun no farther up the ladder. + +The Frauengasse is a short street, made narrow by the terrace that +each house throws outward from its face, each seeking to gain a few +inches on its neighbour. It runs from the Marienkirche to the +Frauenthor, and remains to-day as it was built three hundred years +ago. + +Desiree nodded and laughed to the children, who interested her. She +was quite simple and womanly, as some women, it is to be hoped, may +succeed in continuing until the end of time. She was always pleased +to see children; was glad, it seemed, that they should have +congregated on the steps to watch her pass. Charles, with a faint +and unconscious reflex of that grand manner which had brought his +father to the guillotine, felt in his pocket for money, and found +none. + +He jerked his hand out with widespread fingers, in a gesture +indicative of familiarity with the nakedness of the land. + +"I have nothing, little citizens," he said with a mock gravity; +"nothing but my blessing." + +And he made a gay gesture with his left hand over their heads, not +the act of benediction, but of peppering, which made them all laugh. +The bride and bridegroom passing on joined in the laughter with +hearts as light and voices scarcely less youthful. + +The Frauengasse is intersected by the Pfaffengasse at right angles, +through which narrow and straight street passes much of the traffic +towards the Langenmarkt, the centre of the town. As the little +bridal procession reached the corner of this street, it halted at +the approach of some mounted troops. There was nothing unusual in +this sight in the streets of Dantzig, which were accustomed now to +the clatter of the Saxon cavalry. + +But at the sight of the first troopers Charles Darragon threw up his +head with a little exclamation of surprise. + +Desiree looked at him and then turned to follow the direction of his +gaze. + +"What are these?" she murmured. For the uniforms were new and +unfamiliar. + +"Cavalry of the Old Guard," replied her husband, and as he spoke he +caught his breath. + +The horsemen vanished into the continuation of the Pfaffengasse, and +immediately behind them came a travelling carriage, swung on high +wheels, three times the size of a Dantzig drosky, white with dust. +It had small square windows. As Desiree drew back in obedience to a +movement of her husband's arm, she saw a face for an instant--pale +and set--with eyes that seemed to look at everything and yet at +something beyond. + +"Who was it? He looked at you, Charles," said Desiree. + +"It is the Emperor," answered Darragon. His face was white. His +eyes were dull, like the eyes of one who has seen a vision and is +not yet back to earth. + +Desiree turned to those behind her. + +"It is the Emperor," she said, with an odd ring in her voice which +none had ever heard before. Then she stood looking after the +carriage. + +Her father, who was at her elbow--tall, white-haired, with an +aquiline, inscrutable face--stood in a like attitude, looking down +the Pfaffengasse. His hand was raised before his face with +outspread fingers which seemed rigid in that gesture, as if lifted +hastily to screen his face and hide it. + +"Did he see me?" he asked in a low voice which only Desiree heard. + +She glanced at him, and her eyes, which were clear as a cloudless +sky, were suddenly shadowed by a suspicion quick and poignant. + +"He seemed to see everything, but he only looked at Charles," she +answered. For a moment they all stood in the sunshine looking +towards the Langenmarkt where the tower of the Rathhaus rose above +the high roofs. The dust raised by the horses' feet and the +carriage wheels slowly settled on their bridal clothes. + +It was Desiree who at length made a movement to continue their way +towards her father's house. + +"Well," she said with a slight laugh, "he was not bidden to my +wedding, but he has come all the same." + +Others laughed as they followed her. For a bride at the church- +door, or a judge on the bench, or a criminal on the scaffold-steps, +need make but a very small joke to cause merriment. Laughter is +often nothing but the froth of tears. + +There were faces suddenly bleached in the little group of wedding- +guests, and none were whiter than the handsome features of Mathilde +Sebastian, Desiree's elder sister, who looked angry, had frowned at +the children, and seemed to find this simple wedding too bourgeois +for her taste. She carried her head with an air that told the world +not to expect that she should ever be content to marry in such a +humble style, and walk from the church in satin slippers like any +daughter of a burgher. + +This, at all events, was what old Koch the locksmith must have read +in her beautiful, discontented face. + +"Ah! ah!" he muttered to the bolts as he shot them. "But it is not +the lightest hearts that quit the church in a carriage." + +So simple were the arrangements that bride and bridegroom and +wedding-guests had to wait in the street while the servant unlocked +the front door of No. 36 with a great key hurriedly extracted from +her apron-pocket. + +There was no unusual stir in the street. The windows of one or two +of the houses had been decorated with flowers. These were the +houses of friends. Others were silent and still behind their lace +curtains, where there doubtless lurked peeping and criticizing eyes- +-the house of a neighbour. + +The wedding-guests were few in number. Only one of them had a +distinguished air, and he, like the bridegroom, wore the uniform of +France. He was a small man, somewhat brusque in attitude, as became +a soldier of Italy and Egypt. But he had a pleasant smile and that +affability of manner which many learnt in the first years of the +great Republic. He and Mathilde Sebastian never looked at each +other: either an understanding or a misunderstanding. + +The host, Antoine Sebastian, played his part well enough when he +remembered that he had a part to play. He listened with a kind +attention to the story of a very old lady, who it seemed had been +married herself, but it was so long ago that the human interest of +it all was lost in a pottle of petty detail which was all she could +recall. Before the story was half finished, Sebastian's attention +had strayed elsewhere, though his spare figure remained in its +attitude of attention and polite forbearance. His mind had, it +would seem, a trick of thus wandering away and leaving his body +rigid in the last attitude that it had dictated. + +Sebastian did not notice that the door was open and all the guests +were waiting for him to lead the way. + +"Now, old dreamer," whispered Desiree, with a quick pinch on his +arm, "take the Grafin upstairs to the drawing-room and give her +wine. You are to drink our healths, remember." + +"Is there wine?" he asked with a vague smile. "Where has it come +from?" + +"Like other good things, my father-in-law," replied Charles with his +easy laugh, "it comes from France." + +They spoke together thus in confidence, in the language of that same +sunny land. But when Sebastian turned again to the old lady, still +recalling the details of that other wedding, he addressed her in +German, offering his arm with a sudden stiffness of gesture which he +seemed to put on with the change of tongue. + +They passed up the low time-worn steps arm-in-arm, and beneath the +high carved doorway, whereon some pious Hanseatic merchant had +inscribed his belief that if God be in the house there is no need of +a watchman, emphasizing his creed by bolts and locks of enormous +strength, and bars to every window. + +The servant in her Samland Sunday dress, having shaken her fist at +the children, closed the door behind the last guest, and, so far as +the Frauengasse was concerned, the exciting incident was over. From +the open window came only the murmur of quiet voices, the clink of +glasses at the drinking of a toast, or a laugh in the clear voice of +the bride herself. For Desiree persisted in her optimistic view of +these proceedings, though her husband scarcely helped her now at +all, and seemed a different man since the passage through the +Pfaffengasse of that dusty travelling carriage which had played the +part of the stormy petrel from end to end of Europe. + + + +CHAPTER II. A CAMPAIGNER. + + + + Not what I am, but what I Do, is my Kingdom. + +Desiree had made all her own wedding-clothes. "Her poor little +marriage-basket," she called it. She had even made the cake which +was now cut with some ceremony by her father. + +"I tremble," she exclaimed aloud, "to think what it may be like in +the middle." + +And Mathilde was the only person there who did not smile at the +unconscious admission. The cake was still under discussion, and the +Grafin had just admitted that it was almost as good as that other +cake which had been consumed in the days of Frederick the Great, +when the servant called Desiree from the room. + +"It is a soldier," she said in a whisper at the head of the stairs. +"He has a paper in his hand. I know what that means. He is +quartered on us." + +Desiree hurried downstairs. In the entrance-hall, a broad-built +little man stood awaiting her. He was stout and red, with hair all +ragged at the temples, almost white. His eyes were lost behind +shaggy eyebrows. His face was made broader by little whiskers +stopping short at the level of his ear. He had a snuff-blown +complexion, and in the wrinkles of his face the dust of a dozen +campaigns seemed to have accumulated. + +"Barlasch," he said curtly, holding out a long strip of blue paper. +"Of the Guard. Once a sergeant. Italy, Egypt, the Danube." + +He frowned at Desiree while she read the paper in the dim light that +filtered through the twisted bars of the fanlight above the door. + +Then he turned to the servant who stood, comely and breathless, +looking him up and down. + +"Papa Barlasch," he added for her edification, and he drew down his +left eyebrow with a jerk, so that it almost touched his cheek. His +right eye, grey and piercing, returned her astonished gaze with a +fierce steadfastness. + +"Does this mean that you are quartered upon us?" asked Desiree +without seeking to hide her disgust. She spoke in her own tongue. + +"French?" said the soldier, looking at her. "Good. Yes. I am +quartered here. Thirty-six, Frauengasse. Sebastian; musician. You +are lucky to get me. I always give satisfaction--ha!" + +He gave a curt laugh in one syllable only. His left arm was curved +round a bundle of wood bound together by a red pocket-handkerchief +not innocent of snuff. He held out this bundle to Desiree, as +Solomon may have held out some great gift to the Queen of Sheba to +smooth the first doubtful steps of friendship. + +Desiree accepted the gift and stood in her wedding-dress holding the +bundle of wood against her breast. Then a gleam of the one grey eye +that was visible conveyed to her the fact that this walnut-faced +warrior was smiling. She laughed gaily. + +"It is well," said Barlasch. "We are friends. You are lucky to get +me. You may not think so now. Would this woman like me to speak to +her in Polish or German?" + +"Do you speak so many languages?" + +He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his arms as far as his many +burdens allowed. For he was hung round with a hundred parcels and +packages. + +"The Old Guard," he said, "can always make itself understood." + +He rubbed his hands together with the air of a brisk man ready for +any sort of work. + +"Now, where shall I sleep?" he asked. "One is not particular, you +understand. A few minutes and one is at home--perhaps peeling the +potatoes. It is only a civilian who is ashamed of using his knife +on a potato. Papa Barlasch, they call me." + +Without awaiting an invitation he went forward towards the kitchen. +He seemed to know the house by instinct. His progress was +accompanied by a clatter of utensils like that which heralds the +coming of a carrier's cart. + +At the kitchen door he stopped and sniffed loudly. There certainly +was a slight odour of burning fat. Papa Barlasch turned and shook +an admonitory finger at the servant, but he said nothing. He looked +round at the highly polished utensils, at the table and floor both +alike scrubbed clean by a vigorous northern arm. And he was kind +enough to nod approval. + +"On a campaign," he said to no one in particular, "a little bit of +horse thrust into the cinders on the end of a bayonet--but in times +of peace . . ." + +He broke off and made a gesture towards the saucepans which +indicated quite clearly that he was between campaigns--inclined to +good living. + +"I am a rude fork," he jerked to Desiree over his shoulder in the +dialect of the Cotes du Nord. + +"How long will you be here?" asked Desiree, who was eminently +practical. A billet was a misfortune which Charles Darragon had +hitherto succeeded in warding off. He had some small influence as +an officer of the head-quarters' staff. + +Barlasch held up a reproving hand. The question, he seemed to +think, was not quite delicate. + +"I pay my own," he said. "Give and take--that is my motto. When +you have nothing to give . . . offer a smile." + +With a gesture he indicated the bundle of firewood which Desiree +still absent-mindedly carried against her white dress. He turned +and opened a cupboard low down on the floor at the left-hand side of +the fireplace. He seemed to know by an instinct usually possessed +by charwomen and other domesticated persons of experience where the +firewood was kept. Lisa gave a little exclamation of surprise at +his impertinence and his perspicacity. He took the firewood, +unknotted his handkerchief, and threw his offering into the +cupboard. Then he turned and perceived for the first time that +Desiree had a bright ribbon at her waist and on her shoulders; that +a thin chain of gold was round her throat and that there were +flowers at her breast. + +"A fete?" he inquired curtly. + +"My marriage fete," she answered. "I was married half an hour ago." + +He looked at her beneath his grizzled brows. His face was only +capable of producing one expression--a shaggy weather-beaten +fierceness. But, like a dog which can express more than many human +beings, by a hundred instinctive gestures he could, it seemed, +dispense with words on occasion and get on quite as well without +them. He clearly disapproved of Desiree's marriage, and drew her +attention to the fact that she was no more than a schoolgirl with an +inconsequent brain, and little limbs too slight to fight a +successful battle in a world full of cruelty and danger. + +Then he made a gesture half of apology as if recognizing that it was +no business of his, and turned away thoughtfully. + +"I had troubles of that sort myself," he explained, putting together +the embers on the hearth with the point of a twisted, rusty bayonet, +"but that was long ago. Well, I can drink your health all the same, +mademoiselle." + +He turned to Lisa with a friendly nod and put out his tongue, in the +manner of the people, to indicate that his lips were dry. + +Desiree had always been the housekeeper. It was to her that Lisa +naturally turned in her extremity at the invasion of her kitchen by +Papa Barlasch. And when that warrior had been supplied with beer it +was with Desiree, in an agitated whisper in the great dark dining- +room with its gloomy old pictures and heavy carving, that she took +counsel as to where he should be quartered. + +The object of their solicitude himself interrupted their hurried +consultation by opening the door and putting his shaggy head round +the corner of it. + +"It is not worth while to consult long about it," he said. "There +is a little room behind the kitchen, that opens into the yard. It +is full of boxes. But we can move them--a little straw--and there!" + +With a gesture he described a condition of domestic peace and +comfort which far exceeded his humble requirements. + +"The blackbeetles and I are old friends," he concluded cheerfully. + +"There are no blackbeetles in the house, monsieur," said Desiree, +hesitating to accept his proposal. + +"Then I shall resign myself to my solitude," he answered. "It is +quiet. I shall not hear the patron touching on his violin. It is +that which occupies his leisure, is it not?" + +"Yes," answered Desiree, still considering the question. + +"I too am a musician," said Papa Barlasch, turning towards the +kitchen again. "I played a drum at Marengo." + +And as he led the way to the little room in the yard at the back of +the kitchen, he expressed by a shake of the head a fellow-feeling +for the gentleman upstairs, whose acquaintance he had not yet made, +who occupied his leisure by touching the violin. + +They stood together in the small apartment which Barlasch, with the +promptitude of an experienced conqueror, had set apart for his own +accommodation. + +"Those trunks," he observed casually, "were made in France"--a +mental note which he happened to make aloud, as some do for better +remembrance. "This solid girl and I will soon move them. And you, +mademoiselle, go back to your wedding." + +"The good God be merciful to you," he added under his breath when +Desiree had gone. + +She laughed as she mounted the stairs, a slim white figure amid the +heavy woodwork long since blackened by time. The stairs made no +sound beneath her light step. How many weary feet had climbed them +since they were built! For the Dantzigers have been a people of +sorrow, torn by wars, starved by siege, tossed from one conqueror to +another from the beginning until now. + +Desiree excused herself for her absence and frankly gave the cause. +She was disposed to make light of the incident. It was natural to +her to be optimistic. Both she and Mathilde made a practice of +withholding from their father's knowledge the smaller worries of +daily life which sour so many women and make them whine on platforms +to be given the larger woes. + +She was glad to note that her father did not attach much importance +to the arrival of Papa Barlasch; though Mathilde found opportunity +to convey her displeasure at the news by a movement of the eyebrows. + +Antoine Sebastian had applied himself seriously now to his role of +host, so rarely played in the Frauengasse. He was courteous and +quick to see a want or a possible desire of any one of his guests. +It was part of his sense of hospitality to dismiss all personal +matters, and especially a personal trouble, from public attention. + +"They will attend to him in the kitchen, no doubt," he said with +that grand air which the dancing academy tried to imitate. + +Charles hardly noted what Desiree said. So sunny a nature as his +might have been expected to make light of a minor trouble, more +especially the minor trouble of another. He was unusually +thoughtful. Some event of the morning had, it would appear, given +him pause on his primrose path. He glanced more than once over his +shoulder towards the window, which stood open. He seemed at times +to listen. + +Suddenly he rose and went to the window. His action caused a brief +silence, and all heard the clatter of a horse's feet and the quick +rattle of a sword against spur and buckle. + +After a glance he came back into the room. + +"Excuse me," he said, with a bow towards Mathilde. "It is, I think, +a messenger for me." + +And he hurried downstairs. He did not return at once, and soon the +conversation became general again. + +"You," said the Grafin, touching Desiree's arm with her fan, "you, +who are now his wife, must be dying to know what has called him +away. Do not consider the 'convenances,' my child." + +Desiree, thus admonished, followed Charles. She had not been aware +of this consuming curiosity until it was suggested to her. + +She found Charles standing at the open door. He thrust a letter +into his pocket as she approached him, and turned towards her the +face that she had seen for a moment when he drew her back at the +corner of the Pfaffengasse to allow the Emperor's carriage to pass +on its way. It was the white, half-stupefied face of one who has +for an instant seen a vision of things not earthly. + +"I have been sent for by the . . . I am wanted at head-quarters," +he said vaguely. "I shall not be long . . ." + +He took his shako, looked at her with an odd attempt to simulate +cheerfulness, kissed her fingers and hurried out into the street. + + + +CHAPTER III. FATE. + + + + We pass; the path that each man trod + Is dim; or will be dim, with weeds. + +When Desiree turned towards the stairs, she met the guests +descending. They were taking their leave as they came down, +hurriedly, like persons conscious of having outstayed their welcome. + +Mathilde listened coldly to the conventional excuses. So few people +recognize the simple fact that they need never apologize for going +away. Sebastian stood at the head of the stairs bowing in his most +Germanic manner. The urbane host, with a charm entirely French, who +had dispensed a simple hospitality so easily and gracefully a few +minutes earlier, seemed to have disappeared behind a pale and formal +mask. + +Desiree was glad to see them go. There was a sense of uneasiness, a +vague unrest in the air. There was something amiss. The wedding +party had been a failure. All had gone well and merrily up to a +certain point--at the corner of the Pfaffengasse, when the dusty +travelling carriage passed across their path. From that moment +there had been a change. A shadow seemed to have fallen across the +sunny nature of the proceedings; for never had bride and bridegroom +set forth together with lighter hearts than those carried by Charles +and Desiree Darragon down the steps of the Marienkirche. + +During its progress across the whole width of Germany, the carriage +had left unrest behind it. Men had travelled night and day to stand +sleepless by the roadside and see it pass. Whole cities had been +kept astir till morning by the mere rumour that its flying wheels +would be heard in the streets before dawn. Hatred and adoration, +fear and that dread tightening of the heart-strings which is caused +by the shadow of the superhuman, had sprung into being at the mere +sound of its approach. + +When therefore it passed across the Frauengasse, throwing its dust +upon Desiree's wedding-dress, it was only fulfilling a mission. +When it broke in upon the lives of these few persons seeking dimly +for their happiness--as the heathen grope for an unknown God--and +threw down carefully constructed plans, swept aside the strongest +will and crushed the stoutest heart, it was only working out its +destiny. The dust sprinkled on Desiree's hair had fallen on the +faces of thousands of dead. The unrest that entered into the quiet +little house on the left-hand side of the Frauengasse had made its +way across a thousand thresholds, of Arab tent and imperial palace +alike. The lives of millions were affected by it, the secret hopes +of thousands were undermined by it. It disturbed the sleep of half +the world, and made men old before their time. + +"More troops must have arrived," said Desiree, already busying +herself to set the house in order, "since they have been forced to +billet this man with us. And now they have sent for Charles, though +he is really on leave of absence." + +She glanced at the clock. + +"I hope he will not be late. The chaise is to come at four o'clock. +There is still time for me to help you." + +Mathilde made no answer. Their father stood near the window. He +was looking out with thoughtful eyes. His face was drawn downwards +by a hundred fine wrinkles. It was the face of one brooding over a +sorrow or a vengeance. There was something in his whole being +suggestive of a bygone prosperity. This was a lean man who had once +been well-seeming. + +"No!" said Desiree gaily, "we were a dull company. We need not +disguise it. It all came from that man crossing our path in his +dusty carriage." + +"He is on his way to Russia," Sebastian said jerkily. "God spare me +to see him return!" + +Desiree and Mathilde exchanged a glance of uneasiness. It seemed +that their father was subject to certain humours which they had +reason to dread. Desiree left her occupation and went to him, +linking her arm in his and standing beside him. + +"Do not let us think of disagreeable things to-day," she said. "God +will spare you much longer than that, you depressing old wedding- +guest!" + +He patted her hand which rested on his arm and looked down at her +with eyes softened by affection. But her fair hair, rather tumbled, +which met his glance must have awakened some memory that made his +face a marble mask again. + +"Yes," he said grimly, "but I am an old man and he is a young one. +And I want to see him dead before I die." + +"I will not have you think such bloodthirsty thoughts on my wedding- +day," said Desiree. "See, there is Charles returning already, and +he has not been absent ten minutes. He has some one with him--who +is it? Papa . . . Mathilde, look! Who is it coming back with +Charles in such a hurry?" + +Mathilde, who was setting the room in order, glanced through the +lace curtains. + +"I do not know," she answered indifferently. "Just an ordinary +man." + +Desiree had turned away from the window as if to go downstairs and +meet her husband. She paused and looked back again over her +shoulder towards the street. + +"Is it?" she said rather oddly. "I do not know--I--" + +And she stood with the incompleted sentence on her lips waiting +irresolutely for Charles to come upstairs. + +In a moment he burst into the room with all his usual exuberance and +high spirit. + +"Picture to yourselves!" he cried, standing in the doorway with his +arms extended before him. "I was hurrying to head-quarters when I +ran into the embrace of my dear Louis--my cousin. I have told you a +hundred times that he is brother and father and everything to me. I +am so glad that he should come to-day of all days." + +He turned towards the stairs with a gesture of welcome, still with +his two arms outheld, as if inviting the man, who came rather slowly +upstairs, to come to his embrace and to the embrace of those who +were now his relations. + +"There was a little suspicion of sadness--I do not know what it was- +-at the table; but now it is all gone. All is well now that this +unexpected guest has come. This dear Louis." + +He went to the landing as he spoke, and returned bringing by the arm +a man taller than himself and darker, with a still brown face and +steady eyes set close together. He had a lean look of good +breeding. + +"This dear Louis!" repeated Charles. "My only relative in all the +world. My cousin, Louis d'Arragon. But he, par exemple, spells his +name in two words." + +The man bowed gravely--a comprehensive bow; but he looked at +Desiree. + +"This is my father-in-law," continued Charles breathlessly. +"Monsieur Antoine Sebastian, and Desiree and Mathilde--my wife, my +dear Louis--your cousin, Desiree." + +He had turned again to Louis and shook him by the shoulders in the +fulness of his joy. He had not distinguished between Mathilde and +Desiree, and it was towards Mathilde that D'Arragon looked with a +polite and rather formal repetition of his bow. + +"It is I . . . I am Desiree," said the younger sister, coming +forward with a slow gesture of shyness. + +D'Arragon took her hand. + +"I have been happy," he said, "in the moment of my arrival." + +Then he turned to Mathilde and bowed over the hand she held out to +him. Sebastian had come forward with a sudden return of his +gracious and rather old-world manner. He did not offer to shake +hands, but bowed. + +"A son of Louis d'Arragon who was fortunate enough to escape to +England?" he inquired with a courteous gesture. + +"The only son," replied the new-comer. + +"I am honoured to make the acquaintance of Monsieur le Marquis," +said Antoine Sebastian slowly. + +"Oh, you must not call me that," replied D'Arragon with a short +laugh. "I am an English sailor--that is all." + +"And now, my dear Louis, I leave you," broke in Charles, who had +rather impatiently awaited the end of these formalities. "A brief +half-hour and I am with you again. You will stay here till I +return." + +He turned, nodded gaily to Desiree and ran downstairs. + +Through the open windows they heard his quick, light footfall as he +hurried up the Frauengasse. Something made them silent, listening +to it. + +It was not difficult to see that D'Arragon was a sailor. Not only +had he the brown face of those who live in the open, but he had the +attentive air of one whose waking moments are a watch. + +"You look at one as if one were the horizon," Desiree said to him +long afterwards. But it was at this moment in the drawing-room in +the Frauengasse that the comparison formed itself in her mind. + +His face was rather narrow, with a square chin and straight lips. +He was not quick in speech like Charles, but seemed to think before +he spoke, with the result that he often appeared to be about to say +something, and was interrupted before the words had been uttered. + +"Unless my memory is a bad one, your mother was an Englishwoman, +monsieur," said Sebastian, "which would account for your being in +the English service." + +"Not entirely," answered d'Arragon, "though my mother was indeed +English and died--in a French prison. But it was from a sense of +gratitude that my father placed me in the English service--and I +have never regretted it, monsieur." + +"Your father received kindnesses at English hands, after his escape, +like many others." + +"Yes, and he was too old to repay them by doing the country any +service himself. He would have done it if he could--" + +D'Arragon paused, looking steadily at the tall old man who listened +to him with averted eyes. + +"My father was one of those," he said at length, "who did not think +that in fighting for Bonaparte one was necessarily fighting for +France." + +Sebastian held up a warning hand. + +"In England--" he corrected, "in England one may think such things. +But not in France, and still less in Dantzig." + +"If one is an Englishman," replied D'Arragon with a smile, "one may +think them where one likes, and say them when one is disposed. It +is one of the privileges of the nation, monsieur." + +He made the statement lightly, seeing the humour of it with a +cosmopolitan understanding, without any suggestion of the +boastfulness of youth. Desiree noticed that his hair was turning +grey at the temples. + +"I did not know," he said, turning to her, "that Charles was in +Dantzig, much less that he was celebrating so happy an occasion. We +ran against each other by accident in the street. It was a lucky +accident that allowed me to make your acquaintance so soon after you +have become his wife." + +"It scarcely seems possible that it should be an accident," said +Desiree. "It must have been the work of fate--if fate has time to +think of such an insignificant person as myself and so small an +event as my marriage in these days." + +"Fate," put in Mathilde in her composed voice and manner, "has come +to Dantzig to-day." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes. You are the second unexpected arrival this afternoon." + +D'Arragon turned and looked at Mathilde. His manner, always grave +and attentive, was that of a reader who has found an interesting +book on a dusty shelf. + +"Has the Emperor come?" he asked. + +Mathilde nodded. + +"I thought I saw something in Charles's face," he said reflectively, +looking back through the open door towards the stairs where Charles +had nodded farewell to them. "So the Emperor is here, in Dantzig?" + +He turned towards Sebastian, who stood with a stony face. + +"Which means war," he said. + +"It always means war," replied Sebastian in a tired voice. "Is he +again going to prove himself stronger than any?" + +"Some day he will make a mistake," said D'Arragon cheerfully. "And +then will come the day of reckoning." + +"Ah!" said Sebastian, with a shake of the head that seemed to +indicate an account so one-sided that none could ever liquidate it. +"You are young, monsieur. You are full of hope." + +"I am not young--I am thirty-one--but I am, as you say, full of +hope. I look to that day, Monsieur Sebastian." + +"And in the mean time?" suggested the man who seemed but a shadow of +someone standing apart and far away from the affairs of daily life + +"In the mean time one must play one's part," returned D'Arragon, +with his almost inaudible laugh, "whatever it may be." + +There was no foreboding in his voice; no second meaning in the +words. He was open and simple and practical, like the life he led. + +"Then you have a part to play, too," said Desiree, thinking of +Charles, who had been called away at such an inopportune moment, and +had gone without complaint. "It is the penalty we pay for living in +one of the less dull periods of history. He touches your life too." + +"He touches every one's life, mademoiselle. That is what makes him +so great a man. Yes. I have a little part to play. I am like one +of the unseen supernumeraries who has to see that a door is open to +allow the great actors to make an effective entree. I am lent to +Russia for the war that is coming. It is a little part. I have to +keep open one small portion of the line of communication between +England and St. Petersburg, so that news may pass to and fro." + +He glanced towards Mathilde as he spoke. She was listening with an +odd eagerness which he noted, as he noted everything, methodically +and surely. He remembered it afterwards. + +"That will not be easy, with Denmark friendly to France," said +Sebastian, "and every Prussian port closed to you." + +"But Sweden will help. She is not friendly to France." + +Sebastian laughed, and made a gesture with his white and elegant +hand, of contempt and ridicule. + +"And, bon Dieu! what a friendship it is," he exclaimed, "that is +based on the fear of being taken for an enemy." + +"It is a friendship that waits its time, monsieur," said D'Arragon +taking up his hat. + +"Then you have a ship, monsieur, here in the Baltic?" asked Mathilde +with more haste than was characteristic of her usual utterance. + +"A very small one, mademoiselle," he answered. "So small that I +could turn her round here in the Frauengasse." + +"But she is fast?" + +"The fastest in the Baltic, mademoiselle," he answered. "And that +is why I must take my leave--with the news you have told me." + +He shook hands as he spoke, and bowed to Sebastian, whose generation +was content with the more formal salutation. Desiree went to the +door, and led the way downstairs. + +"We have but one servant," she said, "who is busy." + +On the doorstep he paused for a moment. And Desiree seemed to +expect him to do so. + +"Charles and I have always been like brothers--you will remember +that always, will you not?" + +"Yes," she answered with her gay nod. "I will remember." + +"Then good-bye, mademoiselle." + +"Madame," she corrected lightly. + +"Madame, my cousin," he said, and departed smiling. + +Desiree went slowly upstairs again. + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE CLOUDED MOON. + + + + Quand on se mefie on se trompe, quand on ne se mefie pas, on est +trompe. + +Charles Darragon had come to Dantzig a year earlier. He was a +lieutenant in an infantry regiment, and he was twenty-five. Many of +his contemporaries were colonels in these days of quick promotion, +when men lived at such a rate that few of them lived long. But +Charles was too easy-going to envy any man. + +When he arrived he knew no one in Dantzig, had few friends in the +army of occupation. In six months he possessed acquaintances in +every street, and was on terms of easy familiarity with all his +fellow-officers. + +"If the army of occupation had more officers like young Darragon," a +town councillor had grimly said to Rapp, "the Dantzigers would soon +be resigned to your presence." + +It seemed that Charles had the gift of popularity. He was open and +hearty, hail-fellow-well-met with the new-comers, who were numerous +enough at this time, quick to understand the quiet men, ready to +make merry with the gay. Regarding himself, he was quite open and +frank. + +"I am a poor devil of a lieutenant," he said, "that is all." + +Reserve is fatal to popularity, yet friendship cannot exist without +it. Charles had, it seemed, nothing to hide, and was indifferent to +the secrets of others. It is such people who receive many +confidences. + +"But it must go no farther . . ." a hundred men had said to him. + +"My friend, by to-morrow I shall have forgotten all about it," he +invariably replied, which men remembered afterwards and were glad. + +A certain sort of friendship seemed to exist between Charles +Darragon and Colonel de Casimir--not without patronage on one side +and a slightly constraining sense of obligation on the other. It +was de Casimir who had introduced Charles to Mathilde Sebastian at a +formal reception at General Rapp's. Charles, of course, fell in +love with Mathilde, and out again after half-an-hour's conversation. +There was something cold and calculating about Mathilde which held +him at arm's length with as much efficacy as the strictest duenna. +Indeed, there are some maidens who require no better chaperon for +their hearts than their own heads. + +A few days after this introduction Charles met Mathilde and Desiree +in the Langgasse, and he fell in love with Desiree. He went about +for a whole week seeking opportunity to tell her without delay what +had happened to him. The opportunity presented itself before long; +for one morning he saw her walking quickly towards the Kuh-brucke +with her skates swinging from her wrist. It was a sunny, still, +winter morning, such as temperate countries never know. Desiree's +eyes were bright with youth and happiness. The cold air had +slightly emphasized the rosy colour of her cheeks. + +Charles caught his breath at the sight of her, though she did not +happen to perceive him. He called a sleigh and drove to the +barracks for his own skates. Then to the Kuh-brucke, where a reach +of the Mottlau was cleared and kept in order for skating. He +overpaid the sleigh-driver and laughed aloud at the man's boorish +surprise. There was no one so happy as Charles Darragon in all the +world. He was going to tell Desiree that he loved her. + +At first Desiree was surprised, as was only natural. For she had +not thought again of the pleasant young officer introduced to her by +Mathilde. They had not even commented on him after he had made his +gay bow and gone. + +She had of course thought of these things in the abstract when her +busy mind had nothing more material and immediate to consider. She +had probably arranged how some abstract person should some day tell +her of his love and how she should make reply. But she had never +imagined the incident as it actually happened. She had never +pictured a youth in a gay uniform looking down at her with ardent +eyes as he skated by her side through the crisp still air, while the +ice sang a high clear song beneath their feet in accompaniment to +his hurried laughing words of protestation. He seemed to touch life +lightly and to anticipate nothing but happiness. In truth, it was +difficult to be tragic on such a morning. + +These were the heedless days of the beginning of the century, when +men not only threw away their lives, but played ducks-and-drakes +with their chances of happiness in a manner quite incomprehensible +to the careful method of human thought to-day. Charles Darragon +lived only in the present moment. He was in love with her. Desiree +must marry him. + +It was quite different from what she had anticipated. She had +looked forward to such a moment with a secret misgiving. The +abstract person of her thoughts had always inspired her with a +painful shyness and an indefinite, breathless fear. But the lover +who was here now in the flesh by her side inspired none of these +feelings. On the contrary, she felt easy and natural and quite at +home with him. There was nothing alarming about his flushed face +and laughing eyes. She was not at all afraid of him. She even felt +in some vague way older than he, though he had just told her that he +was twenty-five, and four years her senior. + +She accepted the violets which he had hurriedly bought for her as he +came through the Langenmarkt, but she would not say that she loved +him, because she did not. She was in most ways quite a matter-of- +fact person, and she was of an honest mind. She said she would +think about it. She did not love him now--she knew that. She could +not say that she would not learn to love him some day, but there +seemed no likelihood of it at present. Then he would shoot himself! +He would certainly shoot himself unless she learnt to love him! And +she asked "When?" and they both laughed. They changed the subject, +but after a time they came back to it; which is the worst of love-- +one always comes back to it. + +Then suddenly he began to assume an air of proprietorship, and burst +into a hundred explanations of what fears he felt for her; for her +happiness and welfare. Her father was absent-minded and heedless. +He was not a fit guardian for her. Was she not the prettiest girl +in all Dantzig--in all the world? Her sister was not fond enough of +her to care for her properly. He announced his intention of seeing +her father the next day. Everything should be done in order. Not a +word must be hinted by the most watchful neighbour against the +perfect propriety of their betrothal. + +Desiree laughed and said that he was progressing rather rapidly. +She had only her instinct to guide her through these troubled +waters; which was much better than experience. Experience in a +woman is tantamount to a previous conviction against a prisoner. + +Charles was grave, however; a rare tribute. He was in love for the +first time, which often makes men quite honest for a brief period-- +even unselfish. Of course, some men are honest and unselfish all +their lives; which perhaps means that they remain in love--for the +first time--all their lives. They are rare, of course. But the +sort of woman with whom it is possible to remain in love all through +a lifetime is rarer. + +So Charles waylaid Antoine Sebastian the next day as he went out of +the Frauenthor for his walk in the morning sun by the side of the +frozen Mottlau. He was better received than he had any reason to +expect. + +"I am only a lieutenant," he said, "but in these days, monsieur, you +know--there are possibilities." + +He laughed gaily as he waved his gloves in the direction of Russia, +across the river. But Sebastian's face clouded, and Charles, who +was quick and sympathetic, abandoned that point in his argument +almost before the words were out of his lips. + +"I have a little money," he said, "in addition to my pay. I assure +you, monsieur, I am not of mean birth." + +"You are an orphan?" said Sebastian curtly. + +"Yes." + +"Of the . . . Terror?" + +"Yes; I--well, one does not make much of one's parentage in these +rough times--monsieur." + +"Your father's name was Charles--like your own?" + +"Yes." + +"The second son?" + +"Yes, monsieur. Did you know him?" + +"One remembers a name here and there," answered Sebastian, in his +stiff manner, looking straight in front of him. + +"There was a tone in your voice--," began Charles, and, again +perceiving that he was on a false scent, broke off abruptly. "If +love can make mademoiselle happy--," he said; and a gesture of his +right hand seemed to indicate that his passion was beyond the +measure of words. + +So Charles Darragon was permitted to pay his addresses to Desiree in +the somewhat formal manner of a day which, upon careful +consideration, will be found to have been no more foolish than the +present. He made no inquiries respecting Desiree's parentage. It +was Desiree he wanted, and that was all. They understood the arts +of love and war in the great days of the Empire. + +The rest was easy enough, and the gods were kind. Charles had even +succeeded in getting a month's leave of absence. They were to spend +their honeymoon at Zoppot, a little fishing-village hidden in the +pines by the Baltic shore, only eight miles from Dantzig, where the +Vistula loses itself at last in the salt water. + +All these arrangements had been made, as Desiree had prepared her +trousseau, with a zest and gaiety which all were invited to enjoy. +It is said that love is an egoist. Charles and Desiree had no +desire to keep their happiness to themselves, but wore it, as it +were, upon their sleeves. + +The attitude of the Frauengasse towards Desiree's wedding was only +characteristic of the period. Every house in Dantzig looked askance +upon its neighbour at this time. Each roof covered a number of +contending interests. + +Some were for the French, and some for the conqueror's unwilling +ally, William of Prussia. The names above the shops were German and +Polish. There are to-day Scotch names also, here as elsewhere on +the Baltic shores. When the serfs were liberated it was necessary +to find surnames for these free men--these Pauls-the-son-of-Paul; +and the nobles of Esthonia and Lithuania were reading Sir Walter +Scott at the time. + +The burghers of Dantzig ("They must be made to pay, these rich +Dantzigers," wrote Napoleon to Rapp) trembled for their wealth, and +stood aghast by their empty counting-houses; for their gods had been +cast down; commerce was at a standstill. There were many, +therefore, who hated the French, and cherished a secret love of +those bluff British captains--so like themselves in build, and +thought, and slowness of speech--who would thrash their wooden brigs +through the shallow seas, despite decrees and threats and sloops-of- +war, so long as they could lay them alongside the granaries of the +Vistula. Lately the very tolls had been collected by a French +customs service, and the wholesale smuggling, to which even Governor +Rapp--that long-headed Alsatian--had closed his eyes, was at an end. + +Again, the Poles who looked on Dantzig as the seaport of that great +kingdom of Eastern Europe which was and is no more, had been assured +that France would set up again the throne of the Jagellons and the +Sobieskis. There was a Poniatowski high in the Emperor's service +and esteem. The Poles were for France. + +The Jew, hurrying along close by the wall--always in the shadow-- +traded with all and trusted none. Who could tell what thoughts were +hidden beneath the ragged fur cap--what revenge awaited its +consummation in the heart crushed by oppression and contempt? + +Besides these civilians there were many who had a military air +within their civil garb. For the pendulum of war had swung right +across from Cadiz to Dantzig, and swept northwards in its wake the +merchants of death, the men who live by feeding soldiers and rifling +the dead. + +All these were in the streets, rubbing shoulders with the gay +epaulettes of the Saxons, the Badeners, the Wurtembergers, the +Westphalians, and the Hessians, who had been poured into Dantzig by +Napoleon during the months when he had continued to exchange +courteous and affectionate letters with Alexander of Russia. For +more than a year the broad-faced Bavarians (who have borne the brunt +of every war in Central Europe) had been peaceably quartered in the +town. Half a dozen different tongues were daily heard in this city +of the plain, and no man knew who might be his friend and who his +enemy. For some who were allies to-day were commanded by their +kings to slay each other to-morrow. + +In the wine-cellars and the humbler beer-shops, in the great houses +of the councillors, and behind the snowy lace curtains of the +Frauengasse and the Portchaisengasse a thousand slow Northerners +spoke of these things and kept them in their hearts. A hundred +secret societies passed from mouth to mouth instruction, warning, +encouragement. Germany has always been the home of the secret +society. Northern Europe gave birth to those countless associations +which have proved stronger than kings and surer than a throne. The +Hanseatic League, the first of the commercial unions which were +destined to build up the greatest empire of the world, lived longest +in Dantzig. + +The Tugendbund, men whispered, was not dead but sleeping. Napoleon, +who had crushed it once, was watching for its revival; had a whole +army of his matchless secret police ready for it. And the +Tugendbund had had its centre in Dantzig. + +Perhaps, in the Rathskeller itself--one of the largest wine stores +in the world, where tables and chairs are set beneath the arches of +the Exchange, a vast cave under the streets--perhaps here the +Tugendbund still encouraged men to be virtuous and self-denying for +no other or higher purpose than the overthrow of the Scourge of +Europe. Here the richer citizens have met from time immemorial to +drink with solemnity and a decent leisure the wines sent hither in +their own ships from the Rhine, from Greece and the Crimea, from +Bordeaux and Burgundy, from the Champagne and Tokay. This is not +only the Rathskeller, but the real Rathhaus, where the Dantzigers +have taken counsel over their afternoon wine from generation to +generation, whence have been issued to all the world those decrees +of probity and a commercial uprightness between buyer and seller, +debtor and creditor, master and man, which reached to every corner +of the commercial world. And now it was whispered that the latter- +day Dantzigers--the sons of those who formed the Hanseatic League: +mostly fat men with large faces and shrewd, calculating eyes; high +foreheads; good solid men, who knew the world, and how to make their +way in it; withal, good judges of a wine and great drinkers, like +that William the Silent, who braved and met and conquered the +European scourge of mediaeval times--it was whispered that these +were reviving the Tugendbund. + +Amid such contending interests, and in a free city so near to +several frontiers, men came and went without attracting undesired +attention. Each party suspected a new-comer of belonging to the +other. + +"He scrapes a fiddle," Koch had explained to the inquiring fishwife. +And perhaps he knew no more than this of Antoine Sebastian. +Sebastian was poor. All the Frauengasse knew that. But the +Frauengasse itself was poor, and no man in Dantzig was so foolish at +this time as to admit that he had possessions. + +This was, moreover, not the day of display or snobbery. The king of +snobs, Louis XVI., had died to some purpose, for a wave of manliness +had swept across human thought at the beginning of the century. The +world has rarely been the poorer for the demise of a Bourbon. + +The Frauengasse knew that Antoine Sebastian played the fiddle to +gain his daily bread, while his two daughters taught dancing for +that same safest and most satisfactory of all motives. + +"But he holds his head so high!" once observed the stout and matter- +of-fact daughter of a Councillor. "Why has he that grand manner?" + +"Because he is a dancing-master," replied Desiree with a grave +assurance. "He does it so that you may copy him. Chin up. Oh! how +fat you are." + +Desiree herself was slim enough and as yet only half grown. She did +not dance so well as Mathilde, who moved through a quadrille with +the air of a duchess, and threw into a polonaise or mazurka a quiet +grace which was the envy and despair of her pupils. Mathilde was +patient with the slow and heavy of foot, while Desiree told them +bluntly that they were fat. Nevertheless, they were afraid of +Mathilde, and only laughed at Desiree when she rushed angrily at +them, and, seizing them by the arms, danced them round the room with +the energy of despair. + +Sebastian, who had an oddly judicial air, such as men acquire who +are in authority, held the balance evenly between the sisters, and +smiled apologetically over his fiddle towards the victim of +Desiree's impetuosity. + +"Yes," he would reply to watching mothers, who tried to lead him to +say that their daughter was the best dancer in the school: "Yes, +Mathilde puts it into their heads, and Desiree shakes it down to +their feet." + +In all matters of the household Desiree played a similar part. She +was up early and still astir after nine o'clock at night, when the +other houses in the Frauengasse were quiet, if there were work to +do. + +"It is because she has no method," said Mathilde, who had herself a +well-ordered mind, and that quickness which never needs to hurry. + + + +CHAPTER V. THE WEISSEN ROSS'L. + + + + The moth will singe her wings, and singed return, + Her love of light quenching her fear of pain. + +There are quite a number of people who get through life without +realizing their own insignificance. Ninety-nine out of a hundred +persons signify nothing, and the hundredth is usually so absorbed in +the message which he has been sent into the world to deliver that he +loses sight of the messenger altogether. + +By a merciful dispensation of Providence we are permitted to bustle +about in our immediate little circle like the ant, running hither +and thither with all the sublime conceit of that insect. We pick +up, as he does, a burden which on close inspection will be found to +be absolutely valueless, something that somebody else has thrown +away. We hoist it over obstructions while there is usually a short +way round; we fret and sweat and fume. Then we drop the burden and +rush off at a tangent to pick up another. We write letters to our +friends explaining to them what we are about. We even indite +diaries to be read by goodness knows whom, explaining to ourselves +what we have been doing. Sometimes we find something that really +looks valuable, and rush to our particular ant-heap with it while +our neighbours pause and watch us. But they really do not care; and +if the rumour of our discovery reach so far as the next ant-heap, +the bustlers there are almost indifferent, though a few may feel a +passing pang of jealousy. They may perhaps remember our name, and +will soon forget what we discovered--which is Fame. While we are +falling over each other to attain this, and dying to tell each other +what it feels like when we have it, or think we have it, let us +pause for a moment and think of an ant--who kept a diary. + +Desiree did not keep a diary. Her life was too busy for ink. She +had had to work for her daily bread, which is better than riches. +Her life had been full of occupation from morning till night, and +God had given her sleep from night till morning. It is better to +work for others than to think for them. Some day the world will +learn to have a greater respect for the workers than for the +thinkers, who are idle, wordy persons, frequently thinking wrong. + +Desiree remembered the siege and the occupation of Dantzig by French +troops. She was at school in the Jopengasse when the Treaty of +Tilsit--that peace which was nothing but a pause--was concluded. +She had seen Luisa of Prussia, the good Queen who baffled Napoleon. +Her childhood had passed away in the roar of siege-guns. Her +girlhood, in the Frauengasse, had been marked by the various woes of +Prussia, by each successive step in the development of Napoleon's +ambition. There were no bogey-men in the night-nursery at the +beginning of the century. One Aaron's rod of a bogey had swallowed +all the rest, and children buried their sobs in the pillow for fear +of Napoleon. There were no ghosts in the dark corners of the stairs +when Desiree, candle in hand, went to bed at eight o'clock, half an +hour before Mathilde. The shadows on the wall were the shadows of +soldiers--the wind roaring in the chimney was like the sound of +distant cannon. When the timid glanced over their shoulders, the +apparition they looked for was that of a little man in a cocked hat +and a long grey coat. + +This was not an age in which the individual life was highly valued. +Men were great to-day and gone to-morrow. Women were of small +account. It was the day of deeds and not of words. + +Desiree had never been oppressed by a sense of her own importance, +which oppression leaves its mark on many a woman's face in these +times. She had not, it would seem, expected much from life; and +when much was given to her she received it without misgivings. She +was young and light-hearted, and she lived in a reckless age. + +She was not surprised when Charles failed to return. The chaise +that was to carry them to Zoppot stood in the Frauengasse on the +shady side of the street in the heat of the afternoon for more than +an hour. Then she ran out and told the driver to go back to his +stables. + +"One cannot go for a honeymoon alone," she explained airily to her +father, who was peevish and restless, standing by the window with +the air of one who expects without knowing what to expect. "It is, +at all events, quite clear that there is nothing for me to do but +wait." + +She made light of it, and laughed at her father's grave face. +Mathilde said nothing, but her silence seemed to suggest that this +was no more than she had foretold, or at all events foreseen. She +was too proud or too generous to put her thoughts into words. For +pride and generosity are often confounded. There are many who give +because they are too proud to withhold. + +Desiree got her needlework and sat by the open window awaiting +Charles. She could hear the continuous clatter of carts on the +quay, and the voices of the men working in the great granaries +across the river. + +The whole city seemed to be astir, and men hurried to and fro in +even the quiet Frauengasse, while the clatter of cavalry and the +heavy rumble of gun carriages could be heard over the roofs from the +direction of the Langenmarkt. There was a sense of hurry in the +dusty air. The Emperor had arrived, and the magic of his name +lifted men out of themselves. It seemed nothing extraordinary to +Desiree that her life should be taken up by this whirlwind, and +carried on she knew not whither. + +At dinner-time Charles had not returned. Antoine Sebastian dined at +half-past four, in the manner of Northern Europe; but his daughters +provided his table with the lighter meats of France, which he +preferred to the German cuisine. Sebastian's dinner was an event in +the day, though he ate sparingly enough, and found a mental rather +than a physical pleasure in the ceremonious sequence of courses. + +It was now too late to think of going to Zoppot. After dinner +Mathilde and Desiree prepared the rooms which had been destined for +the occupation of the married pair after the honeymoon. + +"We shall have to omit Zoppot, that is all," said Desiree +cheerfully, and fell to unpacking the bridal clothes which had been +so merrily laid in the trunks. + +At half-past six a soldier brought a hurried note from Charles. + +"I cannot return to-night, as I am about to start for Konigsberg," +he wrote. "It is a commission which I could not refuse if I wished +to. You, I know, would have me go and do my duty." + +There was more which Desiree did not read aloud. Charles had always +found it easy enough to tell Desiree how much he loved her, and was +gaily indifferent to the ears of others. But she seemed to be +restrained by some feeling which had found birth in her heart during +her wedding day. She said nothing of Charles's protestations of +love. + +"Decidedly," she said, folding the letter, and placing it in her +work-basket, "Fate is interfering in our affairs to-day." + +She turned to her work again without further complaint, almost with +a sense of relief. Mathilde, whose steady grey eyes saw everything, +penetrating every thought, glanced at her with a suddenly aroused +interest. Desiree herself was half surprised at the philosophy with +which she met this fresh misfortune. + +Antoine Sebastian had never acquired the habit of drinking tea in +the evening, which had found favour in these northern countries +bordering on Russia. Instead, he usually went out at this time to +one of the many wine-rooms or Bier Halles in the town to drink a +slow and meditative glass of beer with such friends as he had made +in Dantzig. For he was a lonely man, whose face was quite familiar +to many who looked for a bow or a friendly salutation in vain. + +If he went to the Rathskeller it was on the invitation of a friend; +for he could not afford to pay the vintage of that cellar, though he +drank the wine with the slow mouthing of a connoisseur when he had +it. + +More often than not he took a walk first, passing out of the +Frauenthor on to the quay, where he turned to left or right and made +his way back through one or other of the town gates, by devious +narrow streets to that which is still called the Portchaisengasse +though chairs and carriers have long ceased to pass along it. Here, +on the northern side of the street is an old inn, "Zum weissen +Ross'l," with a broken, ill-carved head of a white horse above the +door. Across the face of the house is written, in old German +letters, an invitation: + + Gruss Gott. Tritt ein! + Bring Gluck herein. + +But few seemed to accept it. Even a hundred years ago the White +Horse was behind the times, and fashion sought the wider streets. + +Antoine Sebastian was perhaps ashamed of frequenting so humble a +house of entertainment, where for a groschen he could have a glass +of beer. He seemed to make his way through the narrower streets for +some purpose, changing his route from day to day, and hurrying +across the wider thoroughfares with the air of one desirous to +attract but little attention. He was not alone in the quiet +streets, for there were many in Dantzig at this time who from wealth +had fallen to want. Many counting-houses once noisy with prosperity +were now closed and silent. For five years the prosperous Dantzig +had lain crushed beneath the iron heel of the conqueror. + +It would seem that Sebastian had only waited for the explanation of +Charles's most ill-timed absence to carry out his usual programme. +The clock in the tower of the Rathhaus had barely struck seven when +he took his hat and cloak from the peg near the dining-room door. +He was so absorbed that he did not perceive Papa Barlasch seated +just within the open door of the kitchen. But Barlasch saw him, and +scratched his head at the sight. + +The northern evenings are chill even in June, and Sebastian fumbled +with his cloak. It would appear that he was little used to helping +himself in such matters. Barlasch came out of the kitchen when +Sebastian's back was turned and helped him to put the flowing cloak +straight upon his shoulders. + +"Thank you, Lisa, thank you," said Sebastian in German, without +looking round. By accident Barlasch had performed one of Lisa's +duties, and the master of the house was too deeply engaged in +thought to notice any difference in the handling or to perceive the +smell of snuff that heralded the approach of Papa Barlasch. +Sebastian took his hat and went out closing the door behind him, and +leaving Barlasch, who had followed him to the door, standing rather +stupidly on the mat. + +"Absent-minded--the citizen," muttered Barlasch, returning to the +kitchen, where he resumed his seat on a chair by the open door. He +scratched his head and appeared to lapse into thought. But his +brain was slow as were his movements. He had been drinking to the +health of the bride. He thumped himself on the brow with his closed +fist. + +"Sacred-name-of-a-thunderstorm," he said. "Where have I seen that +face before?" + +Sebastian went out by the Frauenthor to the quay. Although it was +dusk, the granaries were still at work. The river was full of craft +and the roadway choked by rows and rows of carts, all of one +pattern, too big and too heavy for roads that are laid across a +marsh. + +He turned to the right, but found his way blocked at the corner of +the Langenmarkt, where the road narrows to pass under the Grunes +Thor. Here the idlers of the evening hour were collected in a +crowd, peering over each other's shoulders towards the roadway and +the bridge. Sebastian was a tall man, and had no need to stand on +tip-toe in order to see the straight rows of bayonets swinging past, +and the line of shakos rising and falling in unison with the beat of +a thousand feet on the hollow woodwork of the drawbridge. + +The troops had been passing out of the city all the afternoon on the +road to Elbing and Konigsberg. + +"It is the same," said a man standing near to Sebastian, "at the +Hohes Thor, where they are marching out by the road leading to +Konigsberg by way of Dessau." + +"It is farther than Konigsberg that they are going," was the +significant answer of a white-haired veteran who had probably been +at Eylau, for he had a crushed look. + +"But war is not declared," said the first speaker. + +"Does that matter?" + +And both turned towards Sebastian with the challenging air that +invites opinion or calls for admiration of uncommon shrewdness. He +was better clad than they. He must know more than they did. But +Sebastian looked over their heads and did not seem to have heard +their conversation. + +He turned back and went another way, by side streets and the little +narrow alleys that nearly always encircle a cathedral, and are still +to be found on all sides of the Marienkirche. At last he came to +the Portchaisengasse, which was quiet enough in the twilight, though +he could hear the tramp of soldiers along the Langgasse and the +rumble of the guns. + +There were only two lamps in the Portchaisengasse, swinging on +wrought-iron gibbets at each end of the street. These were not yet +alight, though the day was fading fast, and the western light could +scarcely find its way between the high gables which hung over the +road and seemed to lean confidentially towards each other. + +Sebastian was going towards the door of the Weissen Ross'l when some +one came out of the hostelry, as if he had been awaiting him within +the porch. + +The new-comer, who was a fat man with baggy cheeks and odd, light +blue eyes--the eyes of an enthusiast, one would say--passed +Sebastian, making a little gesture which at once recommended +silence, and bade him turn and follow. At the entrance to a little +alley leading down towards the Marienkirche the fat man awaited +Sebastian, whose pace had not quickened, nor had his walk lost any +of its dignity. + +"Not there to-night," said the man, holding up a thick forefinger +and shaking it sideways. + +"Then where?" + +"Nowhere to-night," was the answer. "He has come--you know that?" + +"Yes," answered Sebastian slowly, "for I saw him." + +"He is at supper now with Rapp and the others. The town is full of +his people. His spies are everywhere. There are two in the Weissen +Ross'l who pretend to be Bavarians. See! There is another--just +there." + +He pointed the thick forefinger down the Portchaisengasse where it +widens to meet the Langgasse, where the last remains of daylight, +reflected to and fro between the houses, found freer play than in +the narrow alley where they stood. + +Sebastian looked in the direction indicated. An officer was walking +away from them. A quick observer would have noticed that his spurs +made no noise, and that he carried his sword instead of allowing it +to clatter after him. It was not clear whence he had come. It must +have been from a doorway nearly opposite to the Weissen Ross'l. + +"I know that man," said Sebastian. + +"So do I," was the reply. "It is Colonel de Casimir." + +With a little nod the fat man went out again into the +Portchaisengasse in the direction of the inn, as if he were keeping +watch there. + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE SHOEMAKER OF KONIGSBERG. + + + + Chacun ne comprend que ce qu'il trouve en soi. + +Nearly two years had passed since the death of Queen Luisa of +Prussia. And she from her grave yet spake to her people--as sixty +years later she was destined to speak to another King of Prussia, +who said a prayer by her tomb before departing on a journey that was +to end in Fontainebleau with an imperial crown and the reckoning for +all time of the seven years of woe that followed Tilsit and killed a +queen. + +Two years earlier than that, in 1808, while Luisa yet lived, a few +scientists and professors of Konigsberg had formed a sort of Union-- +vague enough and visionary--to encourage virtue and discipline and +patriotism. And now, in 1812, four years later, the memory of Luisa +still lingered in those narrow streets that run by the banks of the +Pregel beneath the great castle of Konigsberg, while the Tugendbund, +like a seed that has been crushed beneath an iron heel, had spread +its roots underground. + +From Dantzig, the commercial, to Konigsberg, the kingly and the +learned, the tide of war rolled steadily onwards. It is a tide that +carries before it a certain flotsam of quick and active men, keen- +eyed, restless, rising--men who speak with a sharp authority and pay +from a bottomless purse. The arrival of Napoleon in Dantzig swept +the first of the tide on to Konigsberg. + +Already every house was full. The high-gabled warehouses on the +riverside could not be used for barracks, for they too had been +crammed from floor to roof with stores and arms. So the soldiers +slept where they could. They bivouacked in the timber-yards by the +riverside. The country-women found the Neuer Markt transformed into +a camp when they brought their baskets in the early morning, but +they met with eager buyers, who haggled laughingly in half a dozen +different tongues. There was no lack of money, however. + +Cartloads of it were on the road. + +The Neuer Markt in Konigsberg is a square, of which the lower side +is a quay on the Pregel. The river is narrow here. Across it the +country is open. The houses surrounding the quadrangle are all +alike--two-storied buildings with dormer windows in the roof. There +are trees in front. In front of that which is now Number Thirteen, +at the right-hand corner, facing west, sideways to the river, the +trees grow quite close to the windows, so that an active man or a +boy might without great risk leap from the eaves below the dormer +window into the topmost branches of the linden, which here grows +strong and tough, as it surely should do in the fatherland. + +A young soldier, seeking lodgings, who happened to knock at the door +of Number Thirteen less than thirty hours after the arrival of +Napoleon at Dantzig, looked upward through the shady boughs, and +noted their growth with the light of interest in his eye. It would +almost seem that the house had been described to him as that one in +the Neuer Markt against which the lindens grew. For he had walked +all round the square between the trees and houses before knocking at +this door, which bore no number then, as it does to-day. + +His tired horse had followed him meditatively, and now stood with +drooping head in the shade. The man himself wore a dark uniform, +white with dust. His hair was dusty and rather lank. He was not a +very tidy soldier. + +He stood looking at the sign which swung from the doorpost, a relic +of the Polish days. It bore the painted semblance of a boot. For +in Poland--a frontier country, as in frontier cities where many +tongues are heard--it is the custom to paint a picture rather than +write a word. So that every house bears the sign of its inmate's +craft, legible alike to Lithuanian or Ruthenian, Swede or Cossack of +the Don. + +He knocked again, and at last the door was opened by a thickly-built +man, who looked, not at his face, but at his boots. As these wanted +no repair he half closed the door again and looked at the newcomer's +face. + +"What do you want?" he asked. + +"A lodging." + +The door was almost closed, when the soldier made an odd and, as it +would seem, tentative gesture with his left hand. All the fingers +were clenched, and with his extended thumb he scratched his chin +slowly from side to side. + +"I have no lodging to let," said the bootmaker. But he did not shut +the door. + +"I can pay," said the other, with his thumb still at his chin. He +had quick, blue eyes beneath the shaggy hair that wanted cutting. +"I am very tired--it is only for one night." + +"Who are you?" asked the bootmaker. + +The soldier was a dull and slow man. He leant against the doorpost +with tired gestures before replying. + +"Sergeant in a Schleswig regiment, in charge of spare horses." + +"And you have come far?" + +"From Dantzig without a halt." + +The shoemaker looked him up and down with a doubting eye, as if +there were something about him that was not quite clear and above- +board. The dust and fatigue were, however, unmistakable. + +"Who sent you to me, anyway?" he grumbled. + +"Oh, I do not know," was the half-impatient answer; "the man I +lodged with in Dantzig or another, I forget. It was Koch the +locksmith in the Schmiedegasse. See, I have money. I tell you it +is for one night. Say yes or no. I want to get to bed and to +sleep." + +"How much do you pay?" + +"A thaler--if you like. Among friends, one is willing to pay." + +After a short minute of hesitation the shoemaker opened the door +wider and came out. + +"And there will be another thaler for the horse, which I shall have +to take to the stable of the wood-merchant at the corner. Go into +the workshop and sit down till I come." + +He stood in the doorway and watched the soldier seat himself wearily +on a bench in the workshop among the ancient boots, past repair, one +would think, and lean his head against the wall. + +He was half asleep already, and the bootmaker, who was lame, +shrugged his shoulders as he led away the tired horse, with a +gesture half of pity, half of doubting suspicion. Had it suggested +itself to his mind, and had it been within the power of one so halt +and heavy-footed to turn back noiselessly, he would have found his +visitor wide-awake enough, hurriedly opening every drawer and +peering under the twine and needles, lifting every bale of leather, +shaking out the very boots awaiting repair. + +When the dweller in Number Thirteen returned, the soldier was +asleep, and had to be shaken before he would open his eyes. + +"Will you eat before you go to bed?" asked the bootmaker not +unkindly. + +"I ate as I came along the street," was the reply. "No, I will go +to bed. What time is it?" + +"It is only seven o'clock--but no matter." + +"No, it is no matter. To-morrow I must be astir by five." + +"Good," said the shoemaker. "But you will get your money's worth. +The bed is a good one. It is my son's. He is away, and I am alone +in the house." + +He led the way upstairs as he spoke, going heavily one step at a +time, so that the whole house seemed to shake beneath his tread. +The room was that attic in the roof which has a dormer window +overhanging the linden tree. It was small and not too clean; for +Konigsberg was once a Polish city, and is not far from the Russian +frontier. + +The soldier hardly noticed his surroundings, but sat down instantly, +with the abandonment of a shepherd's dog at the day's end. + +"I will put a stitch in your boots for you while you sleep," said +the host casually. "The thread is rotten, I can see. Look here-- +and here!" + +He stooped, and with a quick turn of the awl which he carried in his +belt he snapped the sewing at the join of the leg and the upper +leather, bringing the frayed ends of the thread out to view. + +Without answering, the soldier looked round for the boot-jack, +lacking which, no German or Polish bedroom is complete. + +When the bootmaker had gone, carrying the boots under his arm, the +soldier, left to himself, made a grimace at the closed door. +Without boots he was a prisoner in the house. He could hear his +host at work already, downstairs in the shop, of which the door +opened to the stairs and allowed passage to that smell of leather +which breeds Radical convictions. + +The regular "tap-tap" of the cobbler's hammer continued for an hour +until dusk, and all the while the soldier lay dressed on his bed. +Soon after, a creaking of the stairs told of the surreptitious +approach of the unwilling host. He listened outside, and even tried +the door, but found it bolted. The soldier, open-eyed on the bed, +snored aloud. At the sound of the key on the outside of the door he +made a grimace again. His features were very mobile, for Schleswig. + +He heard the bootmaker descend the stairs again almost noiselessly, +and, rising from the bed, he took his station at the window. All +the Langgasse would seem to be eating-houses. The basement, which +has a separate door, gives forth odours of simple Pomeranian meats, +and every other house bears to this day the curt but comforting +inscription, "Here one eats." It was only to be supposed that the +bootmaker at the end of his day would repair for supper to some +special haunt near by. + +But the smell of cooking mingling with that of leather told that he +was preparing his own evening meal. He was, it seemed, an +unsociable man, who had but a son beneath his roof, and mostly lived +alone. + +Seated near the window, where the sunset light yet lingered, the +Schleswiger opened his haversack, which was well supplied, and +finding paper, pens and ink, fell to writing with one eye watchful +of the window and both ears listening for any movement in the room +below. + +He wrote easily with a running pen, and sometimes he smiled as he +wrote. More than once he paused and looked across the Neuer Markt +above the trees and the roofs, towards the western sky, with a +sudden grave wistfulness. He was thinking of some one in the west. +It was assuredly not of war that this soldier wrote. Then, again, +his attention would be attracted to some passer in the street below. +He only gave half of his attention to his letter. He was, it +seemed, a man who as yet touched life lightly; for he was quite +young. But, nevertheless, his pen, urged by only half a mind that +had all the energy of spring, flew over the paper. Sowing is so +much easier than reaping. + +Suddenly he threw his pen aside and moved quickly to the window +which stood open. The shoemaker had gone out, closing the door +softly behind him. + +It was to be expected that he would turn to the left, upwards +towards the town and the Langgasse, but it was in the direction of +the river that his footsteps died away. There was no outlet on that +side except by boat. + +It was almost dark now, and the trees growing close to the window +obscured the view. So eager was the lodger to follow the movements +of his landlord that he crept in stocking-feet out on to the roof. +By lying on his face below the window he could just distinguish the +shadowy form of a lame man by the river edge. He was moving to and +fro, unchaining a boat moored to the steps, which are more used in +winter when the Pregel is a frozen roadway than in summer. There +was no one else in the Neuer Markt, for it was the supper hour. + +Out in the middle of the river a few ships were moored: high- +prowed, square-sterned vessels of a Dutch build trading in the +Frische Haaf and in the Baltic. + +The soldier saw the boat steal out towards them. There was no other +boat at the steps or in sight. He stood up on the edge of the roof, +and after carefully measuring his distance, with quick eyes aglow +with excitement, he leapt lightly across the leafy space into the +topmost boughs, where he alighted in a forked branch almost without +sound. + +At dawn the next morning, while the shoemaker still slept, the +soldier was astir again. He shivered as he rose, and went to the +window, where his clothes were hanging from a rafter. The water was +still dripping from them. Wrapt in a blanket he sat down by the +open window to write while the morning air should dry his clothes. + +That which he wrote was a long report--sheet after sheet closely +written. And in the middle of his work he broke off to read again +the letter that he had written the night before. With a quick, +impulsive gesture he kissed the name it bore. Then he turned to his +work again. + +The sun was up before he folded the papers together. By way of a +postscript he wrote a brief letter. + +"DEAR C.--I have been fortunate, as you will see from the enclosed +report. His Majesty cannot again say that I have been neglectful. +I was quite right. It is Sebastian and only Sebastian that we need +fear. Here they are clumsy conspirators compared to him. I have +been in the river half the night listening at the open stern-window +of a Reval pink to every word they said. His Majesty can safely +come to Konigsberg. Indeed, he is better out of Dantzig. For the +whole country is riddled with that which they call patriotism, and +we treason. But I can only repeat what his Majesty disbelieved the +day before yesterday--that the heart of the ill is Dantzig, and the +venom of it Sebastian. Who he really is and what he is about you +must find out how you can. I go forward to-day to Gumbinnen. The +enclosed letter to its address, I beg of you, if only in +acknowledgment of all that I have sacrificed." + +The letter was unsigned, and bore the date, "Dawn, June 10." This +and the report, and that other letter (carefully sealed with a +wafer) which did not deal with war or its alarms, were all placed in +one large envelope. He did not seal it, however, but sat thinking +while the sun began to shine on the opposite houses. Then he +withdrew the open letter, and added a postscript to it: + +"If an attempt were made on N.'s life--I should say Sebastian. If +Prussia were to play us false suddenly, and cut us off from France-- +I should say nothing else than Sebastian. He is more dangerous than +a fanatic; for he is too clever to be one." + +The writer shivered and laughed in sheer amusement at his own misery +as he drew on his wet clothes. The shoemaker was already astir, and +presently knocked at his door. + +"Yes, yes," the soldier cried, "I am astir." + +And as his host rattled the door he opened it. He had unrolled his +long cavalry cloak, and wore it over his wet clothes. + +"You never told me your name," said the shoemaker. A suspicious man +is always more suspicious at the beginning of the day. + +"My name," answered the other carelessly. "Oh! my name is Max +Brunner." + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE WAY OF LOVE. + + + + Celui qui souffle le feu s'expose a etre brule par les +etincelles. + +It was said that Colonel de Casimir--that guest whose presence and +uniform lent an air of distinction to the quiet wedding in the +Frauengasse--was a Pole from Cracow. Men also whispered that he was +in the confidence of the Emperor. But this must only have been a +manner of speaking. For no man was ever admitted fully into the +thoughts of that superhuman mind. + +De Casimir was left behind in Dantzig when the army moved forward. + +"There will be a great battle," he said, "somewhere near Vilna--and +I shall miss it." + +Indeed, every man was striving to get to the front. He who, +himself, had given a new meaning to human ambition seemed able to +inspire not only Frenchmen but soldiers of every nationality with +fire from his own consuming flame. + +"Yes! madame," said de Casimir; for it was to Desiree that he spoke, +"and your husband is more fortunate than I. He is sure of a staff +appointment. He will be among the first. It will soon be over. +To-morrow war is to be declared." + +They were in the street--not far from the Frauengasse, whence +Desiree, always practical, was hurrying towards the market-place. +De Casimir had seemed idle until he perceived her. + +Desiree made a little movement of horror at the announcement. She +did not know that the fighting had already begun. + +"Ah!" cried de Casimir with a reassuring smile. "You must be of +good cheer. There will be no war at all. I tell you that in +confidence. Russia will be paralyzed. I was going towards the +Frauengasse when I perceived you; to pay my respects to your father, +to say a word to you. Come--you are smiling again. That is right. +You were so grave, madame, as you hurried along with your eyes +looking far away. You must not think of Charles, if the thoughts +make you look as you looked then." + +His manner was kind and confidential and easy--inviting in response +that which the confidential always expect, a return in kind. It is +either hit or miss with such people; and de Casimir missed. He saw +Desiree draw back. She was young, and of that clear fairness of +skin which seems to let the thoughts out through the face so that +any can read them. That which her face expressed at that moment was +a clear and definite refusal to confide anything whatsoever in this +little dark man who stood in front of her, looking into her eyes +with a deferential and sympathetic glance. + +"I know for certain," he said, "that Charles was well two days ago, +and that he is highly thought of in high quarters. I can tell you +that, at all events." + +"Thank you," said Desiree. She had nothing against de Casimir. She +had only seen him once or twice, and she knew him to be Charles's +friend, and in some sense his patron. For de Casimir held a high +position in Dantzig. She was quite ready to like him since Charles +liked him; but she intended to do so at her own range. It is always +the woman who measures the distance. + +Desiree made a little movement as if to continue on her way; and de +Casimir instantly stood aside, with a bow. + +"Shall I find your father at home?" he asked. + +"I think so. He was at home when I left," she answered, responding +to his salute with a friendly nod. + +De Casimir watched her go and stood for a moment in reflection, as +if going over in his mind that which had passed between them. + +"I must try the other one," he said to himself as he turned down the +Pfaffengasse. He continued his way at a leisurely pace. At the +corner of the Frauengasse he lingered in the shadow of the linden +trees, and while so doing saw Antoine Sebastian quit the door of No. +36, going in the opposite direction towards the river, and pass out +through the Frauenthor on to the quay. + +He made a little gesture of annoyance on being told by the servant +that Sebastian was out. After a moment's reflection, he seemed to +make up his mind to ignore the conventionalities. + +"It is merely," he said in his friendly and confidential manner to +the servant, in perfect German, "that I have news from Monsieur +Darragon, the husband of Mademoiselle Desiree. Madame is out--you +say. Well, then, what is to be done?" + +He had a most charming, grave manner of asking advice which few +could resist. + +The servant nodded at him with a twinkle of understanding in her +eye. + +"There is Fraulein Mathilde." + +"But . . . well, ask her if she will do me the honour of speaking +to me for an instant. I leave it to you . . . ." + +"But come in," protested the servant. "Come upstairs. She will see +you; why not?" + +And she led the way upstairs. Papa Barlasch, sitting just within +the kitchen door, where he sat all day doing nothing, glanced +upwards through his overhanging eyebrows at the clink of spurs and +the clatter of de Casimir's sword against the banisters. He had the +air of a watchdog. + +Mathilde was not in the drawing-room, and the servant left the +visitor there alone, saying that she would seek her mistress. There +were one or two books on the tables. One table was rather untidy; +it was Desiree's. A writing-desk stood in the corner of the room. +It was locked--and the lock was a good one. De Casimir was an +observant man. He had time to make this observation, and to see +that there were no letters in Desiree's work-basket; to note the +titles of the books and the absence of name on the flyleaf, and was +looking out of the window when the door opened and Mathilde came in. + +This was a day when women were treated with a great show of +deference, while in reality they had but little voice in the world's +affairs. De Casimir's bow was deeper and more elaborate than would +be considered polite to-day. On standing erect he quickly +suppressed a glance of surprise. + +Mathilde must have expected him. She was dressed in white, and her +hair was tied with a bright ribbon. In her cheeks, usually so pale, +was a little touch of colour. It may have been because Desiree was +not near, but de Casimir had never known until this moment how +pretty Mathilde really was. There was something in her eyes, too, +which gripped his attention. He remembered that at the wedding he +had never seen her eyes. They had always been averted. But now +they met his with a troubling directness. + +De Casimir had a gallant manner. All women commanded his eager +respect, which they could assess at such value as their fancy +painted, remembering that it is for the woman to measure the +distance. On the few occasions of previous encounters, de Casimir +had been empresse in his manner towards Mathilde. As he looked at +her, his quick mind ran back to former meetings. He had no +recollection of having actually made love to her. + +"Mademoiselle," he said, "for a soldier--in time of war--the +conventions may, perhaps, be slightly relaxed. I was told that you +were alone--that your father is out, and yet I persisted--" + +He spread out his hands and laughed appealingly, begging her, it +would seem, to help him out of the social difficulty in which he +found himself. + +"My father will be sorry--" she began. + +"That is hardly the question," he interrupted; "I was thinking of +your displeasure. But I have an excuse, I assure you. I only ask a +moment to tell you that I have heard from Konigsberg that Charles +Darragon is in good health there, and is moving forward with the +advance-guard to the frontier." + +"You are kind to come so soon," answered Mathilde, and there was an +odd note of disappointment in her voice. De Casimir must have heard +it, for he glanced at her again with a gleam of surprise in his +eyes. + +"That is my excuse, Mademoiselle," he said with a tentative +emphasis, as if he were feeling his way. He was an opportunist with +all the quickness of one who must live by his wits among others +existing on the same uncertain fare. He saw her flush, and again he +hesitated as a wayfarer may hesitate when he finds an easy road +where he had expected to climb a hill. What was the meaning of it? +he seemed to ask himself. + +"Charles does not interest you so much as he interests your sister?" +he suggested. + +"He has never interested me much," she replied indifferently. She +did not ask him to sit down. It would not have been etiquette in an +age when women were by some odd misjudgment considered incapable of +managing their own hearts. + +"Is that because he is in love, Mademoiselle?" inquired de Casimir +with a guarded laugh. + +"Perhaps so." + +She did not look at him. De Casimir had not missed this time. His +air of candid confidence had met with a quick response. He laughed +again and moved towards the door. Mathilde stood motionless, and +although she said no word, nor by any gesture bade him stay, he +stopped on the threshold and turned again towards her. + +"It was my conscience," he said, looking at her over his shoulder, +"that bade me go." + +Her face and her averted eyes asked why, but her straight lips were +silent. + +"Because I cannot claim to be more interesting than Charles +Darragon," he hazarded. "And you, Mademoiselle, confess that you +have no tolerance for a man who is in love." + +"I have no tolerance for a man who is weakened by love. He should +be strengthened and hardened by it." + +"To--?" + +"To do a man's work in the world," said Mathilde coldly. + +De Casimir was standing by the open door. He closed it with his +foot. He was professedly a man alert for the chance of a moment, +which he was content to grasp without pausing to look ahead. Should +there be difficulties yet unperceived, these in turn might present +an opportunity to be seized by the quick-witted. + +"Then you would admit, Mademoiselle," he said gravely, "that there +may be good in a love that fights continually against ambition, and- +-does not prevail." + +Mathilde did not answer at once. There was an odd suggestion of +antagonism in their attitude towards each other--not irreconcilable, +the poets tell us, with love--but this is assuredly not the Love +that comes from Heaven and will go back there to live through +eternity. + +"Yes," said she at length. + +"Such is my love for you," he said, his quick instinct telling him +that with Mathilde few words were best. + +He only spoke the thoughts of his age; for ambition was the ruling +passion in men's hearts at this time. All who served the Great +Adventurer gave it the first place in their consideration, and de +Casimir only aped his betters. Though oddly enough the only two of +all the great leaders who were to emerge still greater from the +coming war--Ney and Eugene--thought otherwise on these matters. + +"I mean to be great and rich, Mademoiselle," he added after a pause. +"I have risked my life for that purpose half a dozen times." + +Mathilde stood looking across the room towards the window. He could +only see her profile and the straight line of her lips. She too was +the product of a generation in which men rose to dazzling heights +without the aid of women. + +"I should not have troubled you with these details, Mademoiselle," +he said, watching her. His instinct was very keen, for not one +woman in a thousand, even in those days, would have admitted that +love was a detail. "I should not have mentioned it--had you not +given me your views--so strangely in harmony with my own." + +Whatever his nationality, his voice was that of a Pole--rich, +musical, and expressive. He could have made, one would have +thought, a very different sort of love had he wished, or had he been +sincere. But he was an opportunist. This was the sort of love that +Mathilde wanted. + +He came a step nearer to her and stood resting on his sword--a lean +hard man who had seen much war. + +"Until you opened my eyes," he said, "I did not know, or did not +care to know, that love, far from being a drag on ambition, may be a +help." + +Mathilde made a little movement towards him which she instantly +repressed. The heart is quicker, but the head nearly always has the +last word. + +"Mademoiselle," he said--and no doubt he saw the movement and the +restraint--"will you help me now at the beginning of the war, and +listen to me again at the end of it--if I succeed?" + +After all, he was modest in his demands. + +"Will you help me? Together, Mademoiselle--to what height may we +not rise in these days?" + +There was a ring of sincerity in his voice, and her eyes answered +it. + +"How can I help you?" she asked in a doubting voice. + +"Oh, it is a small matter," was the reply. "But it is one in which +the Emperor is personally interested. Such things have a special +attraction for him. The human interest never fails to hold his +attention. If I do well, he will know it and remember me. It is a +question, Mademoiselle, of secret societies. You know that Prussia +is riddled with them." + +Mathilde did not answer. He studied her face, which was clean cut +and hard like a marble bust--a good face to hide a secret. + +"It is my duty to watch here in Dantzig and to report to the +Emperor. In serving myself I could also perhaps serve a friend, one +who might otherwise run into danger--who may be in danger while you +and I stand here. For the Emperor strikes hard and quickly. I +speak of your father, Mademoiselle--and of the Tugendbund." + +Still he could not see from the pale profile whether Mathilde knew +anything at all. + +"And if I procure information for you?" asked she at length, in a +quiet and collected voice. + +"You will help me to attain a position such as I could ask--even +you--to share with me. And you would do your father no harm. You +would even render him a service. For all the secret societies in +Germany will not stop Napoleon. It is only God who can stop him +now, Mademoiselle. All men who attempt it will only be crushed +beneath the wheels. I might save your father." + +But Mathilde did not seem to be thinking of her father. + +"I am hampered by poverty," de Casimir said, changing his ground. +"In the old days it did not matter. But now, in the Empire, one +must be rich. I shall be rich--at the end of this campaign." + +Again his voice was sincere, and again her eyes responded. He made +a step forward, and gently taking her hand, he raised it to his +lips. + +"You will help me!" he said, and, turning abruptly on his heel, he +left her. + +De Casimir's quarters were in the Langenmarkt. On returning to +them, he took from his despatch-case a letter which he turned over +thoughtfully in his hand. It was addressed to Desiree, and sealed +carefully with a wafer. + +"She may as well have it," he said. "It will be as well that she +should be occupied with her own affairs." + + + +CHAPTER VIII. A VISITATION. + + + + Be wiser than other people if you can, but do not tell them so. + +Whenever Papa Barlasch caught sight of his unwilling host's face, he +turned his own aside with a despairing upward nod. Once or twice, +during the early days of his occupation of the room behind the +kitchen in the Frauengasse, he smote himself sharply on the brow, as +if calling upon his brain to make an effort. But afterwards he +seemed to resign himself to this lapse of memory, and the upward +despairing nod gradually lost intensity until at last he brought +himself to pass Antoine Sebastian in the narrow passage with no more +emphatic notice than a scowl. + +"You and I," he said to Desiree, "are the friends. The others--" + +And his gesture seemed to permit the others to go hang if they so +desired. The army had gone forward, leaving Dantzig in that idle +restlessness which holds those who, finding themselves in a house of +sickness, are not permitted entry to the darkened chamber, but must +await the crisis elsewhere. + +There were some busy enough in the commerce that must exist between +a huge army and its base, in the forwarding of war material and +stores, in accommodating the sick and sending out in return those +who were to fill the gaps. But the Dantzigers themselves had +nothing to do. Their prosperous trade was paralyzed. Those who had +aught to sell had sold it. The high-seas and the high-roads were +alike blocked by the French. And rumour, ever busy among those that +wait, ran to and fro in the town. + +The Emperor of Russia had been taken prisoner. Napoleon had been +checked at the passage of the Niemen. There had been a great battle +at Gumbinnen, and the French were in full retreat. Vilna had +capitulated to Murat, and the war was at an end. A hundred +authentic despatches of the morning were the subject of contemptuous +laughter at the supper-table. + +Lisa heard these tales in the market-place, and told Desiree, who, +as often as not, translated them to Barlasch. But he only held up +his wrinkled forefinger and shook it slowly from side to side. + +"Woman's chatter!" he said. "What is the German for 'magpie'?" + +And on being told the word, he repeated it gravely to Lisa. For he +had not only fulfilled his promise of settling down in the house, +but had assumed therein a distinct and clearly defined position. He +was the counsellor, and from his chair just within the kitchen he +gave forth judgment. + +"And you," he said to Desiree one morning, when household affairs +had taken her to the kitchen, "you are troubled this morning. You +have had a letter from your husband?" + +"Yes--and he is in good health." + +"Ah!" + +Barlasch glared at her beneath his brows, looking her up and down, +noting her quick movements, which had the uncertainty of youth. + +"And now that he is gone," he said, "and that there is war, you are +going to employ yourself by falling in love with him, when you had +all the time before, and did not take advantage of it." + +Desiree laughed at him and made no other answer. While she spoke to +Lisa he sat and watched them. + +"It would be like a woman to do such a thing," he pursued. "They +are so inconvenient--women. They get married for fun, and then one +fine Thursday they find they have missed all the fun, like one who +comes late to the theatre--when the music is over." + +He went to the table and examined the morning marketing, which Lisa +had laid out in preparation for dinner. Of some of her purchases he +approved, but he laughed aloud at a lettuce which had no heart, and +at such a buyer. + +Then Desiree attracted his scrutiny again. + +"Yes," he said, half to himself, "I see it. You are in love. Just +Heaven, I know! I have had them in love with me . . . . Barlasch." + +"That must have been a long time ago," answered Desiree with her gay +laugh, only giving him half her attention. + +"Yes, it was a century ago. But they were the same then as they are +now, as they always will be--inconvenient. They waited, however, +till they were grown up!" + +And with his ever-ready accusing finger he drew Desiree's attention +to her own slimness. They were left alone for a minute while Lisa +answered a knock at the door, during which time Barlasch sat in grim +silence. + +"It is a letter," said Lisa, returning. "A sailor brought it." + +"Another?" said Barlasch, with a gesture of despair. + +"Can you give me news of Charles?" Desiree read, in a writing that +was unknown to her. "I shall wait a reply until midnight on board +the Elsa, lying off the Krahn-Thor." The letter bore the signature, +"Louis d'Arragon." Desiree turned slowly and went upstairs, +carrying it folded small in her closed hand. + +She was alone in the house, for Mathilde was out and her father had +not yet returned from his evening walk. She stood at the head of +the stairs, where the last of the daylight filtered through the +barred window, and read the letter again. Then she turned and gave +a slight start to see Barlasch at the foot of the stairs beckoning +to her. He made no attempt to come up, but stood on the mat like a +dog that has been forbidden the upper rooms. + +"Is it about your father?" he asked, in a hoarse whisper. + +"No!" + +He made a gesture commanding secrecy and silence. Then he went to +close the kitchen door and returned on tip-toe. + +"It is," he explained, "that they are talking of him in the cafes. +There are many to be arrested to-morrow. They say the patron is one +of them, and employs himself in plotting. That his name is not +Sebastian at all. That he is a Frenchman who escaped the +guillotine. What do I know? It is the gossip of the cafes. But I +tell it you because we are friends, you and I. And some day I may +want you to do something for me. One thinks of one's self, eh? It +is good to make friends. For some day one may want them. That is +why I do it. I think of myself. An old soldier. Of the Guard." + +With many gestures of tremendous import, and a face all wrinkled and +twisted with mystery, he returned to the kitchen. + +Mathilde was not to return until late. She had gone to the house of +the old Grafin whose reminiscences had been a fruitful topic at +Desiree's wedding. After dining there she and the Grafin were to go +together to a farewell reception given by the Governor. For Rapp +was bound for the frontier with the rest, and was to go to the war +as first aide-de-camp to the Emperor. + +Mathilde could not be back until ten o'clock. She, who was so quick +and quiet, had been much occupied in social observances lately, and +had made fast friends with the Grafin during the last few days, +constantly going to see her. + +Desiree knew that what Barlasch had repeated as the gossip of the +cafes was in part, if not wholly, true. She and Mathilde had long +known that any mention of France had the instant effect of turning +their father into a man of stone. It was the skeleton in this quiet +house that sat at table with its inmates, a shadowy fourth tying +their tongues. The rattle of its bones seemed to paralyze +Sebastian's mind, and at any moment he would fall into a dumb and +stricken apathy which terrified those about him. At such times it +seemed that one thought in his mind had swallowed all the rest, so +that he heard without understanding and saw without perceiving. + +He was in such a humour when he came back to dinner. He passed +Desiree on the stairs without speaking and went to his room to +change his clothes, for he never relaxed his formal habits. At the +dinner-table he glanced at her as a dog, knowing that he is ill, may +be seen to glance with a secret air at his master, wondering whether +he is detected. + +Desiree had always hoped that her father would speak to her when +this humour was upon him and tell her the meaning of it. Perhaps it +would come to-night, when they were alone. There was an unspoken +sympathy existing between them in which Mathilde took no share, +which had even shut out Charles as out of a room where there was no +light, into which Desiree and her father went at times and stood +hand-in-hand without speaking. + +They dined in silence, while Lisa hurried about her duties, +oppressed by a sense of unknown fear. After dinner they went to the +drawing-room as usual. It had been a dull day, with great clouds +creeping up from the West. The evening fell early, and the lamps +were already alight. Desiree looked to the wicks with the eye of +experience when she entered the room. Then she went to the window. +Lisa did not always draw the curtains effectually. She glanced down +into the street, and turned suddenly on her heel, facing her father. + +"They are there," she said. For she had seen shadowy forms lurking +beneath the trees of the Frauengasse. The street was ill-lighted, +but she knew the shadows of the trees. + +"How many?" asked Sebastian, in a dull voice. + +She glanced at him quickly--at his still, frozen face and quiescent +hands. He was not going to rise to the occasion, as he sometimes +did even from his deepest apathy. She must do alone anything that +was to be accomplished to-night. + +The house, like many in the Frauengasse, had been built by a careful +Hanseatic merchant, whose warehouse was his own cellar half sunk +beneath the level of the street. The door of the warehouse was +immediately under the front door, down a few steps below the street, +while a few more steps, broad and footworn, led up to the stone +veranda and the level of the lower dwelling-rooms. A guard placed +in the street could thus watch both doors without moving. + +There was a third door, giving exit from the little room where +Barlasch slept to the small yard where he had placed those trunks +which were made in France. + +Desiree had no time to think. She came of a race of women of a +brighter intelligence than any women in the world. She took her +father by the arm and hastened downstairs. Barlasch was at his post +within the kitchen door. His eyes shone suddenly as he saw her +face. It was said of Papa Barlasch that he was a gay man in battle, +laughing and making a hundred jests, but at other times lugubrious. +Desiree saw him smile for the first time, in the dim light of the +passage. + +"They are there in the street," he said; "I have seen them. I +thought you would come to Barlasch. They all do--the women. In +here. Leave him to me. When they ring the bell, receive them +yourself--with smiles. They are only men. Let them search the +house if they want to. Tell them he has gone to the reception with +Mademoiselle." + +As he spoke the bell rang just above his head. He looked up at it +and laughed. + +"Ah, ah!" he said, "the fanfare begins." + +He drew Sebastian within and closed the door of his little room. +Lisa had already gone to answer the bell. When she opened the door +three men stepped quickly over the threshold, and one of them, +thrusting her aside, closed the door and turned the key. Desiree, +in her white evening dress, on the bottom step, just beneath the +lamp that hung from the ceiling, made them pause and look at each +other. Then one of the three came towards her, hat in hand. + +"Our duty, Fraulein," he said awkwardly. "We are but obeying +orders. A mere formality. It will all be explained, no doubt, if +the householder, Antoine Sebastian, will put on his hat and come +with us." + +"His hat is not there, as you see," answered Desiree. "You must +seek him elsewhere." + +The man shook his head with a knowing smile. "We must seek him in +this house," he said. "We will make it as easy for you as we can, +Fraulein--if you make it easy for us." + +As he spoke he produced a candle from his pocket, and encouraged the +broken wick with his finger-nail. + +"It will make it pleasanter for all," said Desiree cheerfully, "if +you will accept a candlestick." + +The man glanced at her. He was a heavy man, with little suspicious +eyes set close together. He seemed to be concluding that she had +outwitted him--that Sebastian was not in the house. + +"Where are the cellar-stairs?" he asked. "I warn you, Fraulein, it +is useless to conceal your father. We shall, of course, find him." + +Desiree pointed to the door next to that giving entry to the +kitchen. It was bolted and locked. Desiree found the key for them. +She not only gave them every facility, but was anxious that they +should be as quick as possible. They did not linger in the cellar, +which, though vast, was empty; and when they returned, Desiree, who +was waiting for them, led the way upstairs. + +They were rather abashed by her silence. They would have preferred +protestations and argument. Discussion always belittles. The smile +recommended by Papa Barlasch, lurking at the corner of her lips, +made them feel foolish. She was so slight and young and helpless, +that a sort of shame rendered them clumsy. + +They felt more at home in the kitchen when they arrived there, and +the sight of Lisa, sturdy and defiant, reminded them of the +authority upon which Desiree had somehow cast a mystic contempt. + +"There is a door there," said the heavy official, with a brusque +return of his early manner. "Come, what is that door?" + +"That is a little room." + +"Then open it." + +"I cannot," returned Lisa. "It is locked." + +"Aha!" said the man, with a laugh of much meaning. "On the inside, +eh?" + +He went to it, and banged on it with his fist. + +"Come," he shouted, "open it and be done." + +There was a short silence, during which those in the kitchen +listened breathlessly. A shuffling sound inside the door made the +officer of the law turn and beckon to his two men to come closer. + +Then, after some fumbling, as of one in the dark, the door was +unlocked and slowly opened. + +Papa Barlasch stood in a very primitive night-apparel within the +door. He had not done things by halves, for he was an old +campaigner, and knew that a thing half done is better left undone in +times of war. He noted the presence of Desiree and Lisa, but was +not ashamed. The reason of it was soon apparent. For Papa Barlasch +was drunk, and the smell of drink came out of his apartment in a +warm wave. + +"It is the soldier billeted in the house," explained Lisa, with a +half-hysterical laugh. + +Then Barlasch harangued them in the language of intoxication. If he +had not spared Desiree's feelings, he spared her ears less now; for +he was an ignorant man, who had lived through a brutal period in the +world's history the roughest life a man can lead. Two of the men +held him with difficulty against the wall, while the third hastily +searched the room--where, indeed, no one could well be concealed. + +Then they quitted the house, followed by the polyglot curses of +Barlasch, who was now endeavouring to find his bayonet amidst his +chaotic possessions. + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE GOLDEN GUESS. + + + + The golden guess + Is morning star to the full round of truth. + +Barlasch was never more sober in his life than when he emerged a +minute later from his room, while Lisa was still feverishly bolting +the door. He had not wasted much time at his toilet. In his +flannel shirt, his arms bare to the elbow, knotted and muscular, he +looked like some rude son of toil. + +"One thinks of one's self," he hastened to explain to Desiree, +fearing that she might ascribe some other motive to his action. +"Some day the patron may be in power again, and then he will +remember a poor soldier. It is good to think of the future." + +He shook his head pessimistically at Lisa as belonging to a sex +liable to error: instanced in this case by bolting the door too +eagerly. + +"Now," he said, turning to Desiree again, "have you any in Dantzig +to help you?" + +"Yes," she answered rather slowly. + +"Then send for him." + +"I cannot do that." + +"Then go for him yourself," snapped Barlasch impatiently. + +He looked at her fiercely beneath his shaggy eyebrows. + +"It is no use to be afraid," he said; "you are afraid--I see it in +your face. And it is never any use. Before they hammered on that +door there, my legs shook. For I am easily afraid--I. But it is +never any use. And when one opens the door, it goes." + +He looked at her with a puzzled frown, seeking in vain, it may have +been, the ordinary symptoms of fear. She was hesitating but not +afraid. There ran blood in her veins which will for all time be +associated by history with a gay and indomitable courage. + +"Come," he said sharply; "there is nothing else to do." + +"I will go," said Desiree, at length, deciding suddenly to do the +one thing that is left to a woman once or twice in her life--to go +to the one man and trust him. + +"By the back way," said Barlasch, helping her with the cloak that +Lisa had brought, and pulling the hood forward over her face with a +jerk. "Ah, I know that way. The patron is hiding in the yard. An +old soldier looks to the retreat--though the Emperor has saved us +that, so far. Come, I will help you over the wall, for the door is +rusted." + +The way, which Barlasch had perceived, led through the room at the +back of the kitchen to a yard, and thence through a door not opened +by the present occupiers of the old house, into a very labyrinth of +narrow alleys running downward to the river and round the tall +houses that stand against the cathedral walls. + +The wall was taller than Barlasch, but he ran at it like a cat, and +Desiree standing below could see the black outline of his limbs +crouching on the top. He stooped down, and grasping her hands, +lifted her by the sheer strength of one arm, balanced her for an +instant on the wall, and then lowered her on the outer side. + +"Run," he whispered. + +She knew the way, and although the night was dark, and these narrow +alleys between high walls had no lamps, Desiree lost no time. The +Krahn-Thor is quite near to the Frauengasse. Indeed, the whole of +Dantzig occupied but a small space between the rivers in those +straitened days. The town was quieter than it had been for months, +and Desiree passed unmolested through the narrow streets. She made +her way to the quay, passing through the low gateway known as the +door of the Holy Ghost, and here found people still astir. For the +commerce that thrives on a northern river is paralyzed all the +winter, and feverishly active when the ice has gone. + +"The Elsa," replied a woman, who had been selling bread all day on +the quay, and was now packing up her stall, "you ask for the Elsa. +There is such a ship, I know. But how can I say which she is? See, +they lie right across the river like a bridge. Besides, it is late, +and sailors are rough men." + +Desiree hurried on. Louis d'Arragon had said that the ship was +lying near to the Krahn-Thor, of which the great hooded roof loomed +darkly against the stars above her. She was looking about her when +a man came forward with the hesitating step of one who has been told +to wait the arrival of some one unknown to him. + +"The Elsa," she said to him; "which ship is it?" + +"Come along with me, Mademoiselle," the man replied; "though I was +not told to look for a woman." + +He spoke in English, which Desiree hardly understood; for she had +never heard it from English lips, and looked for the first time on +one of that race upon which all the world waited now for salvation. +For the English, of all the nations, were the only men who from the +first had consistently defied Napoleon. + +The sailor led the way towards the river. As he passed the lamp +burning dimly above some steps, Desiree saw that he was little more +than a boy. He turned and offered her his hand with a shy laugh, +and together they stood at the bottom of the steps with the water +lapping at their feet. + +"Have you a letter," he said, "or will you come on board?" + +Then perceiving that she did not understand, he repeated the +question in German. + +"I will come on board," she answered. + +The Elsa was lying in the middle of the river, and the boat into +which Desiree stepped shot across the water without sound of oars. +The sailor was paddling it noiselessly at the stern. Desiree was +not unused to boats, and when they came alongside the Elsa she +climbed on board without help. + +"This way," said the sailor, leading her towards the deckhouse where +a light burned dimly behind red curtains. He knocked at the door +and opened it without awaiting a reply. In the little cabin two men +sat at a table, and one of them was Louis d'Arragon dressed in the +rough clothes of a merchant seaman. He seemed to recognize Desiree +at once, though she still stood without the door, in the darkness. + +"You?" he said in surprise. "I did not expect you, madame. You +want me?" + +"Yes," answered Desiree, stepping over the combing. Louis's +companion, who was also a sailor, coarsely clad, rose and, awkwardly +taking off his cap, hurried to the door, murmuring some vague +apology. It is not always the roughest men who have the worst +manners towards women. + +He closed the door behind him, leaving Desiree and Louis looking at +each other by the light of an oil lamp that flickered and gave forth +a greasy smell. The little cabin was smoke-ridden, and smelt of +ancient tar. It was no bigger than the table in the drawing-room in +the Frauengasse, across which he had bowed to her in farewell a few +days earlier, little knowing when and where they were to meet again. +For fate can always turn a surprise better than the human fancy. + +Behind the curtain, the window stood open, and the high, clear song +of the wind through the rigging filled the little cabin with a +continuous minor note of warning which must have been part of his +life; for he must have heard it, as all sailors do, sleeping or +waking, night and day. + +He was probably so accustomed to it that he never heeded it. But it +filled Desiree's ears, and whenever she heard it in after-life, in +memory this moment came again to her, and she looked back to it, as +a traveller may look back to a milestone at a cross-road, and wonder +where his journey might have ended had he taken another turning. + +"My father," she said quickly, "is in danger. There is no one else +in Dantzig to whom we can turn, and--" + +She paused. What was she going to add? She hesitated, and then was +silent. There was no reason why she should have elected to come to +him. At all events she gave none. + +"I am glad I was in Dantzig when it happened," he said, turning to +take up his cap, which was of rough dark fur, such as seamen wear +even in summer at night in the Northern seas. + +"Come," he added, "you can tell me as we go ashore." + +But they did not speak while the sailor sculled the boat to the +steps. On the quay they would probably pass unnoticed, for there +were many strange sailors at this time in Dantzig, and Louis +d'Arragon might easily be mistaken for one of the French seamen who +had brought stores by sea from Bordeaux and Brest and Cherbourg. + +"Now tell me," he said, as they walked side by side; and in voluble +French, Desiree launched into her story. It was rather incoherent, +by reason, perhaps, of its frankness. + +"Stop--stop," he interrupted gravely, "who is Barlasch?" + +Louis walked rather slowly in his stiff sea-boots at her side, and +she instinctively spoke less rapidly as she explained the part that +Barlasch had played. + +"And you trust him?" + +"Of course," she answered. + +"But why?" + +"Oh, you are so matter-of-fact," she exclaimed; "I do not know. +Because he is trustworthy, I suppose." + +She continued the story, but suddenly stopped and looked up at him +under the shadow of her hood. + +"You are silent," she said. "Do you know something about my father +of which I am ignorant? Is that it?" + +"No," he answered, "I am trying to follow--that is all. You leave +so much to my imagination." + +"But I have no time to explain things," she protested. "Every +moment is of value. I will explain all those things some other +time. At this moment all I can think of is my father and the danger +he is in. If it had not been for Barlasch, he would have been in +prison by now. And as it is, the danger is only half averted. For +he, himself, is so little help. All must be done for him. He will +do nothing for himself while this humour is upon him; you +understand?" + +"Partly," he answered slowly. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed half-impatiently, "one sees that you are an +Englishman." + +And she found time, even in her hurry, to laugh. For she was young +enough to float buoyant upon that sea of hope which ebbs in the +course of years and leaves men stranded on the hard facts of life. + +"You forget," he said in self-defence. + +"I forget what?" + +"That a week ago I had never seen Dantzig, or your father, or your +sister, or the Frauengasse. A week ago I did not know that there +was anybody called Sebastian in the world--and did not care." + +"Yes," she admitted thoughtfully, "I had forgotten that." + +And they walked on in silence, a long way, till they came to the +Gate of the Holy Ghost. + +"But you can help him to escape?" she said at length, as if +following the course of her own thoughts. + +"Yes," he answered, and that was all. + +They passed through the smaller streets in silence, and Desiree led +the way into a narrow alley running between the street of the Holy +Ghost and the Frauengasse. + +"There is the wall to be climbed," she said; but, as she spoke, the +door giving exit to the alley was cautiously opened by Barlasch. + +"A little oil," he whispered, "and it was soon done." + +The yard was dark within, for there might be watchers at any of the +windows above them in the pointed gables that made patterns against +the star-lit sky. + +"All is well," said Barlasch; "those sons of dogs have not returned, +and the patron is waiting in the kitchen, cloaked and ready for a +journey. He has collected himself--the patron." + +He led the way through his own room, which was dark, save for a +shaft of lamp-light coming from the kitchen. He looked back keenly +at Louis d'Arragon. + +"Salut!" he growled, scowling at his boots. "A sailor," he muttered +after a pause. "Good. She has her wits at the top of the basket-- +that child." + +Desiree was throwing back her hood and looking at her father with a +reassuring smile. + +"I have brought Monsieur d'Arragon," she said, "to help us." + +For Sebastian has not recognized the new-comer. He now bowed in his +stiff way, and began a formal apology, which D'Arragon cut short +with a quick gesture. + +"It is the least I could do," he said, "in the absence of Charles. +Have you money?" + +"Yes--a little." + +"You will require money and a few clothes. I can get you a passage +to Riga or to Helsingborg to-night. From there you can communicate +with your daughter. Events will follow each other rapidly. One +never knows what a week may bring forth in time of war. It may be +safe for you to return soon. Come, monsieur, we must go." + +Sebastian made a gesture with his outspread arms, half of +protestation, half of acquiescence. It was plain that he had no +sympathy with these modern, hurried methods of meeting the +emergencies of daily life. A valise, packed and strapped, lay on +the table. D'Arragon weighed it in his hand, and then lifted it to +his shoulder. + +"Come, monsieur," he repeated leading the way through Barlasch's +room to the yard. "And you," he added, addressing himself to that +soldier, "shut the door behind us." + +With another gesture of protest Sebastian gathered his cloak round +him and followed. D'Arragon had taken Desiree so literally at her +word that he allowed her father no time for hesitation, nor a moment +to say farewell. + +She was alone in the kitchen before she had realized that they were +going. In a minute Barlasch returned. She could hear him setting +in order the room which had been hurriedly disorganized in order to +open the door leading to the yard, where her father had concealed +himself. He was muttering to himself as he lifted the furniture. + +Coming back into the kitchen, he found Desiree standing where he had +left her. Glancing at her, he scratched his grey head in a plebeian +way, and gave a little laugh. + +"Yes," he said, pointing to the spot where D'Arragon had stood. +"That was a man, that you fetched to help us--a man. It makes a +difference when such as that goes out of the room--eh?" + +He busied himself in the kitchen, setting in order that which +remained of the mise en scene of his violent reception of the secret +police. Suddenly he turned in his emphatic manner, and threw out +his rugged forefinger to hold her attention. + +"If there had been some like that in Paris, there would have been no +Revolution. Za-za, za-za!" he concluded, imitating effectively the +buzz of many voices in an assembly. "Words and not deeds," Barlasch +protested. Whereas to-night, he clearly showed by two gestures, +they had met a man of deeds. + + + +CHAPTER X. IN DEEP WATER. + + + + Le coeur humain est un abime qui trompe tous les calculs. + +It is to be presumed that Colonel de Casimir met friends at the +reception given by Governor Rapp in the great rooms of the Rathhaus. +For there were many Poles present, and not a few officers of other +nationalities. + +The army indeed that set forth to conquer Russia was not a French- +speaking army. Less than half of the regiments were of that +nationality, while Italians, Bavarians, Saxons, Wurtembergers, +Westphalians, Prussians, Swiss, and Portuguese went gaily forward on +the great venture. There were soldiers from the numerous petty +states of the German Confederation which acknowledged Napoleon as +their protector, for the good reason that they could not protect +themselves against him. Finally, there were those Poles who had +fought in Spain for Napoleon, hoping that in return he would some +day set the ancient kingdom upon its feet among the nations. +Already the whisperers pointed to Davoust as the future king of the +new Poland. + +Many present at the farewell reception of the Governor carried a +sword, though they were the merest civilians, plotting, counter- +plotting, and whispering a hundred rumours. Perhaps Rapp himself, +speaking bluff French with a German accent, was as honest as any man +in the room, though he lacked the polish of the Parisian and had not +the subtlety of the Pole. Rapp was not a shining light in these +brilliant circles. He was a Governor not for peace, but for war. +His day was yet to come. + +Such men as de Casimir shrugged their supple shoulders at his simple +talk. They spoke of him half-contemptuously as of one who had had a +thousand chances and had never taken them. He was not even rich, +and he had handled great sums of money. He was only a General, and +he had slept in the Emperor's tent--had had access to him in every +humour. He might do the same again in the coming campaign. He was +worth cultivating. De Casimir and his like were full of smiles +which in no wise deceived the shrewd Alsatian. + +Mathilde Sebastian was among the ladies to whom these brilliant +warriors paid their uncouth compliments. Perhaps de Casimir was +aware that her measuring eyes followed him wherever he went. He +knew, at all events, that he could hold his own amid these +adventurers, many of whom had risen from the ranks; while others, +from remote northern States, had birth but no manners at all. He +was easy and gay, carrying lightly that subtle air of distinction +which is vouchsafed to many Poles. + +"Here to-day, Mademoiselle, and gone to-morrow," he said. "All +these eager soldiers. And who can tell which of us may return?" + +If he had expected Mathilde to flinch at this reminder of his +calling, he was disappointed. Her eyes were hard and bright. She +had had so few chances of moving amidst this splendour, of seeing +close at hand the greatness which Napoleon shed around him as the +sun its rays. She was carried away by the spirit of the age. +Anything was better, she felt, than obscurity. + +"And who can tell," whispered de Casimir with a careless and +confident laugh, "which of us shall come back rich and great?" + +This brought the glance from her dark eyes for which his own lay +waiting. She was certainly beautiful, and wore the difficult dress +of that day with assurance and grace. She possessed something which +the German ladies about her lacked; something which many suddenly +lack when a Frenchwoman is near. + +His manner, half respectful, half triumphant, betrayed an +understanding to which he did not refer in words. She had bestowed +some favour upon him--had acceded to some request. He hoped for +more. He had overstepped some barrier. She, who should have +measured the distance, had allowed him to come too close. The +barriers of love are one-sided; there is no climbing back. + +"A hundred envious eyes are watching me," he said in an undertone as +he passed on; "I dare not stay longer. I am on duty to-night." + +She bowed and watched him go. She was, it would seem, aware of that +fallen barrier. She had done nothing, had permitted nothing from +weakness. There was no weakness at all perhaps in Mathilde +Sebastian. She had the quiet manner of a skilled card-player with +folded cards laid face down upon the table, who knows what is in her +hand and is waiting for the foe to lead. + +De Casimir did not see her again. In such a throng it would have +been difficult to find her had he so desired. But, as he had told +her, he was on duty to-night. There were to be a hundred arrests +before dawn. Many who were laughing and talking with the French +officers to-night were already in the grasp of Napoleon's secret +police, and would drive straight from the door of the Rathhaus to +the town prison or to the old Watch-house in the Portchaisengasse. +Others, moving through the great rooms with a high head, were +already condemned out of their own bureaux and escritoires now being +rifled by the Emperor's spies. + +The Emperor himself had given the order, before quitting Dantzig to +take command of the maddest and greatest enterprise conceived by the +mind of man. There was nothing above the reach of his mind, it +seemed, and nothing too low for him to bend down and touch. Every +detail had been considered by himself. He was like a man who, +having an open wound on his back, attends to it hurriedly before +showing an undaunted face to the enemy. + +His inexorable finger had come down on the name of Antoine +Sebastian, figuring on all the secret reports--first in many. + +"Who is this man?" he asked, and none could answer. + +He had gone to the frontier without awaiting the solution to the +question. Such was his method now. He had so much to do that he +could but skim the surface of his task. For the human mind, though +it be colossal, can only work within certain limits. The greatest +orator in the world can only move his immediate hearers. Those +beyond the inner circle catch a word here and there, and imagination +supplies the rest or improves upon it. But those in the farthest +gallery hear nothing and see a little man gesticulating. + +De Casimir was not entrusted with the execution of the Emperor's +orders. As a member of General Rapp's staff, resident in Dantzig +since the city's occupation by the French, he had been called upon +to make exhaustive reports upon the feeling of the burghers. There +were many doubtful cases. De Casimir did not pretend to be better +than his fellows. To some he had sold the benefit of the doubt. +Some had paid willingly enough for their warning. Others had put +off the payment; for there were many Jews, then as now, in Dantzig; +slow payers requiring something stronger than a threat to make them +disburse. + +De Casimir therefore quitted the Rathhaus among the first to go, and +walked through the busy streets to his rooms in the Langenmarkt, +where he not only lived but had a small office to which orderlies +and aides-de-camp came by day or night. Two sentries kept guard on +the pavement. Since the spring, this office had been one of the +busiest military posts in Dantzig. Its doors were open at all +hours, and in truth many of de Casimir's assistants preferred to +transact their business in the dark. + +There might be some recalcitrant debtor driven by stress of +circumstance to clear his conscience to-night. It would be as well, +de Casimir thought, to be at one's post. Nor was he mistaken. +Though it was only ten o'clock, two men were awaiting his return, +and, their business despatched, de Casimir deemed it wise to send +away his assistants. Immediately after they had gone a woman came. +She was half distracted with fear, and the tears ran down her pallid +cheeks. But she dried them at the mention of de Casimir's price, +and fell to abusing him. + +"If your husband is innocent, there is all the more reason why he +should be grateful to me for warning him," he said, with a smile. +And at last the lady paid and went away. + +The town clocks had struck eleven before another footstep on the +pavement made de Casimir raise his head. He did not actually expect +any one, but a certain surreptitiousness in the approach of this +visitor, and the low knock on the door, made him suspect that this +was grist for his mill. + +He opened the door and, seeing that it was a woman, stepped back. +When she had entered, he closed the door while she stood watching +him in the dark passage, beneath the shadow of her hood. Knowing +the value of such small details, he locked the door rather +ostentatiously and dropped the key into his pocket. + +"And now, madame," he said reassuringly, as he followed his visitor +into the room where a shaded lamp lighted his writing-table. She +threw back her hood, and it was Mathilde! The surprise on de +Casimir's face was genuine enough. Romance could not have brought +about this visit, nor love be its motive. + +"Something has happened," he said, looking at her doubtfully. + +"Where is my father?" was the reply. + +"Unless there has been some mistake," he answered glibly, "he is at +home in bed." + +She smiled contemptuously into his innocent face. + +"There has been a mistake," she said; "they came to arrest him to- +night." + +De Casimir made a gesture of anger and seemed to be mentally +assigning a punishment to some blunderer. + +"And?" he asked, without looking at her. + +"And he escaped." + +"For the moment?" + +"No; he has left Dantzig." + +Something in her voice--the cold note of warning--made him glance +uneasily at her. This was not a woman to be deceived, and yet she +was womanly enough to fear deception and to resent her own fears, +visiting her anger on any who aroused them. In the flash of an eye +he understood her, and forestalled the words that were upon her +lips. + +"And I promised that he should come to no harm--I know that," he +said quickly. "At first I thought that it must have been a blunder, +but on reflection I am sure that it is not. It is the Emperor. He +must have given the order for the arrest himself, behind my back. +That is his way. He trusts no one. He deceives those nearest to +him. I made out the list of those to be arrested to-night, and your +father's name was not on it. Do you believe me? Mademoiselle, do +you believe me?" + +It was only natural in such a man to look for disbelief. The air he +breathed was infected by suspicion. No deception was too small for +the great man whom he served. Mathilde made no answer. + +"You came here to accuse me of having deceived you," he said rather +anxiously. "Is that it?" + +She nodded without meeting his eyes. It was not the truth. She had +come to hear his defence, hoping against hope that she might be able +to believe him. + +"Mathilde," he asked slowly, "do you believe me?" + +He came a step nearer, looking down at her averted face, which was +oddly white. Then suddenly she turned, without a sound, without +lifting her eyes--and was in his arms. It seemed that she had done +it against her will, and it took him by surprise. He had thought +that she was trying to attract his love because she believed in his +capability to make his fortune like so many soldiers of France; that +she was only playing a woman's subtle game. And, after all, she was +like the rest--a little cleverer, a little colder--but, like the +rest. + +While his arms were still round her, his quick mind leapt forward to +the future, wondering already to what end this would lead them. For +a moment he was taken aback. He was over the last of those barriers +which are so easy from the outside and unclimbable from within. She +had thrust into his hands a power greater than, for the moment, he +knew how to wield. It was characteristic of him to think first +whither it would lead him, and next how he could turn it to good +account. + +Some instinct told him that this was a different love from any that +he had met before. The same instinct made him understand that it +was crying aloud to be convinced; and, oddly enough, he had told her +the truth. + +"See," he said, "here is a copy of the list, and your father's name +is not on it. See, here is Napoleon's letter, expressing +satisfaction with my work here and in Konigsberg, where I have been +served by an agent of my own choosing. Many have climbed to a +throne with less than that letter for their first step. See . . . +!" he opened another drawer. It was full of money. + +"See, again!" he said with a low laugh, and from an iron chest he +took two or three bags which fell upon the table with the discreet +unmistakable chink of gold. "That is the Emperor's. He trusts me, +you see. These bags are mine. They are to be sent back to France +before I follow the army to Russia. What I have told you is true, +you see." + +It was an odd way of wooing, but this man rarely made a mistake. +There are many women who, like Mathilde Sebastian, are readier to +love success than console failure. + +"See," he said, after a moment's hesitation, opening another drawer +in his writing-table, "before I went away I had intended to ask you +to remember me." + +As he spoke he drew a jewel-case from under some papers, and slowly +opened it. He had others like it in the drawer; for emergencies. + +"But I never hoped," he went on, "to have an opportunity of seeing +you thus alone--to ask you never to forget me. You permit me?" + +He clasped the diamonds round her throat, and they glittered on the +poor, cheap dress, which was the best she had. She looked down at +them with a catching breath, and for an instant the glitter was +reflected in her eyes. + +She had come asking for reassurance, and he gave her diamonds; which +is an old tale told over and over again. For in human love we have +to accept not what we want, but what is given to us. + +"No one in Dantzig," he said, "is so glad to hear that your father +has escaped as I am." + +And, with the glitter still lurking in her dark-grey eyes, she +believed him. He drew her cloak round her, and gently brought her +hood over her hair. + +"I must take you home," he said tenderly, "without delay. And as we +go through the streets you must tell me how it happened, and how you +were able to come to me." + +"Desiree was not asleep," she answered; "she was waiting for me to +return, and told me at once. Then she went to bed, and I waited +until she was asleep. It was she who managed the escape." + +De Casimir, who was locking the drawers of his writing-table, +glanced up sharply. + +"Ah! but not alone?" + +"No--not alone. I will tell you as we go through the streets." + + + +CHAPTER XI. THE WAVE MOVES ON. + + + + La meme fermete qui sert a resister a l'amour sert aussi a le +rendre violent et durable. + +It is only in war that the unexpected admittedly happens. In love +and other domestic calamities there is always a relative who knew it +all the time. + +The news that Napoleon was in Vilna, hastily evacuated by the +Russians in full retreat, came as a surprise and not to all as a +pleasant one, in Dantzig. + +It was Papa Barlasch who brought the tidings to the Frauengasse, one +hot afternoon in July. He returned before his usual hour, and sent +Lisa upstairs, with a message given in dumb show and interpreted by +her into matter-of-fact German, that he must see the young ladies +without delay. Far back in the great days of the monarchy, Papa +Barlasch must have been a little child in a peasant's hut on those +Cotes du Nord where they breed a race of Frenchmen startlingly +similar to the hereditary foe across the Channel, where to this day +the men kick off their sabots at the door and hold that an honest +labourer has no business under a roof except in stocking-feet and +shirt-sleeves. + +Barlasch had never yet been upstairs in the Sebastians' house, and +deemed it only respectful to the ladies to take off his boots on the +mat, and prowl to the kitchen in coarse blue woollen stockings, +carefully darned by himself, under the scornful immediate eye of +Lisa. + +He was in the kitchen when Mathilde and Desiree, in obedience to his +command, came downstairs. The floor in one corner of the room was +littered with his belongings; for he never used the table. "He +takes up no more room than a cat," Lisa once said of him. "I never +fall over him." + +"She leaves her greasy plates here and there," explained Barlasch in +return. "One must think of one's self and one's uniform." + +He was in his stocking-feet with unbuttoned tunic when the two girls +came to him. + +"Ai, ai, ai," he said, imitating with his two hands the galloping of +a horse. "The Russians," he explained confidentially. + +"Has there been a battle?" asked Desiree. + +And Barlasch answered "Pooh!" not without contempt for the female +understanding. + +"Then what is it?" she inquired. "You must remember we are not +soldiers--we do not understand those manoeuvres--ai, ai, like that." + +And she copied his gesture beneath his scowling contempt. + +"It is Vilna," he said. "That is what it is. Then it will be +Smolensk, and then Moscow. Ah, ah! That little man!" + +He turned and took up his haversack. + +"And I--I have my route. It is good-bye to the Frauengasse. We +have been friends. I told you we should be. It is good-bye to +these ladies--and to that Lisa. Look at her!" + +He pointed with his curved and derisive finger into Lisa's eyes. +And in truth the tears were there. Lisa was in heart and person +that which is comprehensively called motherly. She saw perhaps some +pathos in the sight of this rugged man--worn by travel, bent with +hardship and many wounds, past his work--shouldering his haversack +and trudging off to the war. + +"The wave moves on," he said, making a gesture, and a sound +illustrating that watery progress. "And Dantzig will soon be +forgotten. You will be left in peace--but we go on to--" He paused +and shrugged his shoulders while attending to a strap. "India or +the devil," he concluded. + +"Colonel Casimir has gone," he added in what he took to be an aside +to Mathilde. Which made her wonder for a moment. "I saw him depart +with his staff soon after daybreak. And the Emperor has forgotten +Dantzig. It is safe enough for the patron now. You can write him a +letter to tell him so. Tell him that I said it was safe for him to +return quietly here, and live in the Frauengasse--I, Barlasch." + +He was ready now, and, buttoning his tunic, he fixed the straps +across his chest, looking from one to the other of the three women +watching him, not without some appreciation of an audience. Then he +turned to Desiree, who had always been his friend, with whom he now +considered that he had the soldier's bond of a peril passed through +together. + +"The Emperor has forgotten Dantzig," he repeated, "and those against +whom he had a grudge. But he has also forgotten those who are in +prison. It is not good to be forgotten in prison. Tell the patron +that--to put it in his pipe and smoke it. Some day he may remember +an old soldier. Ah, one thinks of one's self." + +And beneath his bushy brows he looked at her with a gleam of +cunning. He went to the door and, turning there, pointed the finger +of scorn at Lisa, stout and tearful. He gave a short laugh of a +low-born contempt, and departed without further parley. + +On the doorstep he paused to put on his boots and button his +gaiters, stooping clumsily with a groan beneath his burden of +haversack and kit. Desiree, who had had time to go upstairs to her +bedroom, ran after him as he descended the steps. She had her purse +in her hand, and she thrust it into his, quickly and breathlessly. + +"If you take it," she said, "I shall know that we are friends." + +He took it ungraciously enough. It was a silken thing with two +small rings to keep the money in place, and he looked at it with a +grimace, weighing it in his hand. It was very light. + +"Money," he said. "No, thank you. To get drink with, and be +degraded and sent to prison. Not for me, madame. No, thank you. +One thinks of one's career." + +And with a gruff laugh of worldly wisdom he continued his way down +the worn steps, never looking back at her as she stood in the +sunlight watching him, with the purse in her hand. + +So in his old age Papa Barlasch was borne forward to the war on that +human tide which flooded all Lithuania, and never ebbed again, but +sank into the barren ground, and was no more seen. + +As the slow autumn approached, it became apparent that Dantzig no +longer interested the watchers. Vilna became the base of +operations. Smolensk fell, and, most wonderful of all, the Russians +were retiring on Moscow. Dantzig was no longer on the route. For a +time it was of the world forgotten, while, as Barlasch had +predicted, free men continued at liberty, though their names had an +evil savour, while innocent persons in prison were left to rot +there. + +Desiree continued to receive letters from her husband, full of love +and war. For a long time he lingered at Konigsberg, hoping every +day to be sent forward. Then he followed Murat across the Niemen, +and wrote of weary journeys over the rolling plains of Lithuania. + +Towards the end of July he mentioned curtly the arrival of de +Casimir at head-quarters. + +"With him came a courier," wrote Charles, "bringing your dead +letter. I don't believe you love me as I love you. At all events, +you do not seem to tell me that you do so often as I want to tell +you. Tell me what you do and think every moment of the day . . . . +. . " And so on. Charles seemed to write as easily as he talked, +and had no difficulty in setting forth his feelings. "The courier +is in the saddle," he concluded. "De Casimir tells me that I must +finish. Write and tell me everything. How is Mathilde? And your +father? Is he in good health? How does he pass his day? Does he +still go out in the evening to his cafe?" + +This seemed to be an afterthought, suggested perhaps by conversation +passing in the room in which he sat. + +The other exile, writing from Stockholm, was briefer in his +communications. + +"I am well," wrote Antoine Sebastian, "and hope to arrive soon after +you receive this. Felix Meyer, the notary, has instructions to +furnish you with money for household expenses." + +It would appear that Sebastian possessed other friends in Dantzig, +who had kept him advised of all that passed in the city. + +For neither Mathilde nor Desiree had obeyed Barlasch's blunt order +to write to their father. They did not know whither he had fled, +neither had they received any communication giving an address or a +hint as to his future movements. It would appear that the same +direct and laconic mind which had carried out his escape deemed it +wiser that those left behind should be in no position to furnish +information. + +In fairness to Barlasch, Desiree had made little of that soldier's +part in Sebastian's evasion, and Mathilde displayed small interest +in such details. She rather fastened, however, upon the assistance +rendered by Louis d'Arragon. + +"Why did he do it?" she asked. + +"Oh, because I asked him," was the reply. + +"And why did you ask him?" + +"Who else was there to ask?" returned Desiree, which was indeed +unanswerable. + +Perhaps the question had been suggested to her by de Casimir, who, +on learning that Louis d'Arragon had helped her father to slip +through the Emperor's fingers, had asked the same in his own +characteristic way. + +"What could he hope to gain by doing it?" he had inquired as he +walked by Mathilde's side, along the Pfaffengasse. And he made +other interrogations respecting D'Arragon which Mathilde was no more +able to satisfy, as he accompanied her to the Frauengasse. + +Since that time the dancing-lessons had been resumed to the music of +a hired fiddler, and Desiree had once more taken up her household +task of making both ends meet. She approached the difficulties as +impetuously as ever, and danced the stout pupils round the room with +undiminished energy. + +"It seems no good at all, your being married," said one of these +breathlessly, while Desiree laughingly attended to her dishevelled +hair. + +"Why not?" + +"Because you still make your own dresses and teach dancing," replied +the pupil, with a quick sigh at the thought of some smart bursch in +the Prussian contingent. + +"Ah, but Charles will return a colonel, and I shall bow to you in a +silk dress from a chaise and pair--come, left foot first. You are +not so tired as you think you are." + +For those that are busy, time flies quickly enough. And there is +nothing more absorbing than keeping the wolf from the door, else +assuredly the hungry thousands would find time to arise and rend the +overfed few. + +August succeeded a hot July and brought with it Sebastian's curt +letter. Sebastian himself--that shadowy father--returned to his +home a few hours later. He was not alone, for a heavier step +followed his into the passage, and Desiree, always quick to hear and +see and act, coming to the head of the stairs, perceived her father +looking upwards towards her, while his companion in rough sailor's +clothes turned to lay aside the valise he had carried on his +shoulder. + +Mathilde was close behind Desiree, and Sebastian kissed his +daughters with that cold repression of manner which always suggested +a strenuous past in which the emotions had been relinquished for +ever as an indulgence unfit for a stern and hard-bitten age. + +"I took him away and now return him," said the sailor coming +forward. Desiree had always known that it was Louis, but Mathilde +gave a little start at the sound of the neat clipping French in the +mouth of an educated Frenchman so rarely heard in Dantzig--so rarely +heard in all broad France to-day. + +"Yes--that is true," answered Sebastian, turning to him with a +sudden change of manner. There was that in voice and attitude which +his hearers had never noted before, although Charles had often +evoked something approaching it. It seemed to indicate that, of all +the people with whom they had seen their father hold intercourse, +Louis d'Arragon was the only man who stood upon equality with him. + +"That is true--and at great risk to yourself," he said, not +assigning, however, so great an importance to personal danger as men +do in these careful days. As he spoke, he took Louis by the arm and +by a gesture invited him to precede him upstairs with a suggestion +of camaraderie somewhat startling in one usually so cold and formal +as Antoine Sebastian, the dancing-master of the Frauengasse. + +"I was writing to Charles," said Desiree to D'Arragon, when they +reached the drawing-room, and, crossing to her own table, she set +the papers in order there. These consisted of a number of letters +from her husband, read and re-read, it would appear. And the answer +to them, a clean sheet of paper bearing only the date and address, +lay beneath her hand. + +"The courier leaves this evening," she said, with a queer ring of +anxiety in her voice, as if she feared that for some reason or +another she ran the risk of failing to despatch her letter. She +glanced at the clock, and stood, pen in hand, thinking of what she +should write. + +"May I enclose a line?" asked Louis. "It is not wise, perhaps, for +me to address to him a letter--since I am on the other side. It is +a small matter of a heritage which he and I divide. I have placed +some money in a Dantzig bank for him. He may require it when he +returns." + +"Then you do not correspond with Charles?" said Mathilde, clearing a +space for him on the larger table, and setting before him ink and +pens and paper. + +"Thank you, Mademoiselle," he said, glancing at her with that light +of interest in his dark eyes which she had ignited once before by a +question on the only occasion that they had met. He seemed to +detect that she was more interested in him than her indifferent +manner would appear to indicate. "No, I am a bad correspondent. If +Charles and I, in our present circumstances, were to write to each +other it could only lead to intrigue, for which I have no taste and +Charles no capacity." + +"You seem to hint that Charles might have such a taste then," she +said, with her quiet smile, as she moved away leaving him to write. + +"Charles has probably found out by this time," he answered with the +bluntness which he claimed as a prerogative of his calling and +nation, "that a soldier of Napoleon's who intrigues will make a +better career than one who merely fights." + +He took up his pen and wrote with the absorption of one who has but +little time and knows exactly what to say. By chance he glanced +towards Desiree, who sat at her own table near the window. She was +stroking her cheek with the feather of her pen, looking with puzzled +eyes at the blank paper before her. Each time D'Arragon dipped his +pen he glanced at her, watching her. And Mathilde, with her +needlework, watched them both. + + + +CHAPTER XII. FROM BORODINO. + + + + However we brave it out, we men are a little breed. + +War is the gambling of kings. Napoleon, the arch-gambler, from that +Southern sea where men, lacking cards or dice and the money to buy +either, will yet play a game of chance with the ten fingers that God +gave them for another purpose--Napoleon had dealt a hand with every +monarch in Europe before he met for the second time that Northern +adversary of cool blood who knew the waiting game. + +It is only where the stakes are small that the leisurely players, +idly fingering the fallen cards, return in fancy to certain points-- +to this trick trumped or that chance missed, playing the game over +again. But when the result is great it overshadows the game, and +all men's thoughts fly to speculation on the future. How will the +loser meet his loss? What use will the winner make of his gain? + +The results of the Russian campaign were so stupendous to history +that the historians of the day, in their bewilderment, sought rather +to preserve these than the details of the war. Thus the student of +to-day, in piecing together an impression of bygone times, will +inevitably find portions of his picture missing. As a matter of +fact, no one can say for certain whether Alexander gently led +Napoleon onward to Moscow or was himself driven thither in confusion +by the conqueror. + +Perhaps each merely pushed on from day to day, as men who are not +Emperors must needs do in the stress of life. It is only in calm +weather that the eye is able to discern things afar off and make +ready; but in a storm the horizon is dimmed by cloud and spray. All +Europe was so obscured at this time. And even Emperors, being only +men, could look no farther than the immediate and urgent danger of +the moment. + +Napoleon's generals were scarcely social lights. Ney, the hero of +the retreat, the bravest of the brave, was a rough man who ate +horseflesh without troubling to cook it. Rapp, whose dogged defence +of an abandoned city is without compare in the story of war, had the +manners and the mind of a peasant. These gentlemen dealt more in +deeds than in words. They had not much to say for themselves. + +As for the Russians, Russia remains at this time the one European +country unhampered and unharassed by a cheap press--the one country +where prominent men have a quiet tongue. A hundred years ago +Russians did great deeds, and the rest was silence. Neither +Kutusoff nor Alexander ever stated clearly whether the retreat to +Moscow was intentional or unavoidable; and these are the only men +who knew. Perhaps Napoleon knew; at all events, he thought he did, +or pretended to think it long afterwards at St. Helena, for Napoleon +the Great was a consummate liar. + +Be that as it may, the Russians retreated, and the French advanced +farther and farther from their base. It was a great army--the +greatest ever seen. For Napoleon had eight monarchs serving with +the eagles; generals innumerable, many of them immortal--Davoust, +the greatest strategist; Prince Eugene, the incomparable lieutenant; +Ney, the fearless; four hundred thousand men. And they carried with +them only twenty days' provision. + +They had marched from the Vistula, full of shipping, across the +Pregel, loaded with stores, to the Niemen, where there was no +navigation. Dantzig, behind them--that Gibraltar of the North--was +stored with provision enough for the whole army. But there was no +transport; for the roads of Lithuania were unsuitable for the heavy +carts provided. + +The country across the Niemen could scarce sustain its own sparse +population, and had nothing to spare for an invading army. This had +once been Poland, and was now inimical to Russia; but Russia did not +care, and the friendship of Lithuania was like many human +friendships which we make sacrifices to preserve--not worth having. + +All the while the Russians retreated, and, stranger still, the +French followed them, eking out their twenty days' provision. + +"I will make them fight a big battle, and beat them," said Napoleon; +"and then the Emperor will sue for peace." + +But Barclay de Tolly continued to run away from that great battle. +Then came the news that Barclay had been deposed; that Kutusoff was +coming from the South to take command. It was true enough; and +Barclay cheerfully served in a subordinate position to the new +chief. September brought great hopes of a battle, for Kutusoff +seemed to retreat with less despatch, like a man choosing his +ground--Kutusoff, that master of the waiting game. + +Early in September Murat, the impetuous leader of the pursuit, +complained to Nansouty that a cavalry charge had not been pushed +home. + +"The horses have no patriotism," replied Nansouty. "The men will +fight on empty stomachs, but not the horses." + +An ominous reply at the beginning of a campaign, while +communications were still open. + +At last, within a few days' march of Moscow, Kutusoff made a stand. +At last the great battle was imminent, after a hundred false alarms, +after many disappointed hopes. The country had been flat hitherto. +The Borodino, running in a wider valley than many of these rivers, +which are merely great ditches, seemed to offer possibilities of +defence. It was the only hope for Moscow. + +"At last," wrote Charles to Desiree on September 6, "we are to have +a great battle. There has been much fighting the last few days, but +I have seen none of it. We are only eighty miles from Moscow. If +there is a great battle to-morrow we shall see Moscow in less than a +week. For we shall win. I have now found out from one who is near +him that the Emperor saw and remembered me the day he passed us in +the Frauengasse--our wedding-day, dearest. Nobody is too +insignificant for him to know. He thought that my marriage to you +(for he knows that you are French) would militate against the work I +had been given to do in Dantzig, so he gave orders for me to be sent +at once to Konigsberg and to continue the work there. De Casimir +tells me that the Emperor is pleased with me. De Casimir is the +best friend I have; I am sure of that. It is said that under the +walls of Moscow the Emperor will dictate his terms to Alexander. +Every one wonders that Alexander of Russia did not make proposals of +peace when Vilna and Smolensk fell. In a week we may be at Moscow. +In a month I may be back at Dantzig, Desiree . . . . " + +And the rest would have been for Desiree's eyes alone, had it ever +been penned. For next in sacredness to heaven-inspired words are +mere human love letters; and those who read the love-letters of +another commit a sacrilege. But Charles never finished the letter, +for the dawn surprised him where he wrote in a shed by the miserable +Kalugha, a streamlet running to the Moskwa. And it was the dawn of +September 7, 1812. + +"There is the sun of Austerlitz," said Napoleon to those who were +near him when it arose. But it was not. It was the sun of +Borodino. And before it set the great battle desired by the French +had been fought, and eight French generals lay dead, while thirty +more were wounded. Murat, Davoust, Ney, Junot, Prince Eugene, +Napoleon himself--all were there; and all fought to finish a war +which from the first had been disliked. The French claimed it as a +victory; but they gained nothing by it, and they lost forty thousand +killed and wounded. + +During the night the Russians evacuated the position which they had +held, and lost, and retaken. They retreated towards Moscow, but +Napoleon was hardly ready to pursue. + +These things, however, are history, and those who wish to know of +them may read them in another volume. While to the many orderly +persons who would wish to see everything in its place and the +history-books on the top shelf to be taken down and read on a future +day (which will never come), to such the explanation is due that +this battle of Borodino is here touched upon because it changed the +current of some lives with which we have to deal. + +For battles and revolutions and historical events of any sort are +the jagged instruments with which Fate rough-hews our lives, leaving +us to shape them as we will. In other days, no doubt, men rough- +hewed, while Fate shaped. But as civilization advances men will wax +so tender, so careful of the individual, that they will never cut +and slash, but move softly, very tolerant, very easy-going, seeking +the compromise that brings peace and breeds a small and timid race +of men. + +Into such lives Fate comes crashing like a woodman with his axe, +leaving us to smooth the edges of the gaping wound and smile, and +say that we are not hurt; to pare away the knots and broken stumps; +and hope that our neighbour, concealing such himself, will have the +decency to pretend not to see. + +Thus the battle of Borodino crashed into the lives of Desiree and +Mathilde, and their father, living quietly on the sunny side of the +Frauengasse in Dantzig. Antoine Sebastian was the first to hear the +news. He had, it seemed, special facilities for learning news at +the Weissen Ross'l, whither he went again now in the evening. + +"There has been a great battle," he said, with so much more than his +usual self-restraint that Desiree and Mathilde exchanged a glance of +anxiety. "A man coming this evening from Dirschau saw and spoke +with the Imperial couriers on their way to Berlin and Paris. It was +a great victory, quite near to Moscow. But the loss on both sides +has been terrible." + +He paused and glanced at Desiree. It was his creed that good blood +should show an example of self-restraint and a certain steadfast, +indifferent courage. + +"Not so much among the French," he said, "as among the Bavarians and +Italians. It is an odd way of showing patriotism, to gain victories +for the conqueror. One hoped--" he paused and made a gesture with +his right hand, scarcely indicative of a staunch hope, "that the +man's star might be setting, but it would appear to be still in the +ascendant. Charles," he added, as an afterthought, "would be on the +staff. No doubt he only saw the fighting from a distance." + +Desiree, from whose face the colour had faded, nodded cheerfully +enough. + +"Oh yes," she answered, "I have no doubt he is safe. He has good +fortune." + +For she was an apt pupil, and had already learnt that the world only +wishes to leave us in undisputed possession of our anxieties or +sorrows, however ready it may be to come forward and take a hand in +good fortune. + +"But there is no definite news," said Mathilde, hardly looking up +from the needlework at which her fingers were so deft and +industrious. + +"No." + +"No news of Charles, I mean," she continued, "or of any of our +friends. Of Monsieur de Casimir, for instance?" + +"No. As for Colonel de Casimir," returned Sebastian thoughtfully, +"he, like Charles, holds some staff appointment of which one does +not understand the scope. He is without doubt uninjured." + +Mathilde glanced at her father not without suspicion. His grand +manner might easily be at times a screen. One never knows how much +is perceived by those who look down from a high place. + +The town was quiet enough all that night. Sebastian must have heard +the news from some unofficial source, for none other seemed to know +it. But at daybreak the church bells, so rarely used in Dantzig for +rejoicing, awoke the burghers to the fact that the Emperor bade them +make merry. Napoleon gave great heed to such matters. In the +churches of Lithuania and farther on in Russia he had commanded the +popes to pray for him at their altars instead of for the Czar. + +When Desiree came downstairs, she found a packet awaiting her. The +courier had come in during the night. This was more than a letter. +A number of papers had been folded in a handkerchief and bound with +string. The address was written on a piece of white leather cut +from the uniform of one who had fallen at Borodino, and had no more +need of sabretasche or trapping. + + "Madame Desiree Darragon--nee Sebastian, + Frauengasse 36, + Dantzig." + +Desiree's heart stood still; for the writing was unknown to her. As +she cut the network of string, she thought that Charles was dead. +When the enclosed papers fell upon the table, she was sure of it; +for they were all in his writing. She did not pick and choose as +one would who has leisure and no very strong excitement, but took up +the first paper and read: + +"Dear C.--I have been fortunate, as you will see from the enclosed +report. His Majesty cannot again say that I have been neglectful. +I was quite right. It is Sebastian and only Sebastian that we need +fear. Here, they are clumsy conspirators compared to him. I have +been in the river half the night, listening at the open stern window +of a Reval pink to every word they said. His Majesty can safely +come to Konigsberg. Indeed, he is better out of Dantzig. For the +whole country is riddled with that which they call patriotism, and +we, treason. But I can only repeat what His Majesty disbelieved the +day before yesterday--that the heart of the ill is Dantzig, and the +venom of it Sebastian. Who he really is and what he is about, you +must find out how you can. I go forward to-day to Gumbinnen. The +enclosed letter to its address--I beg of you--if only in +acknowledgment of all that I have sacrificed." + +The letter was unsigned, but the writing was the writing of Charles +Darragon, and Desiree knew what he had sacrificed--what he could +never recover. + +There were two or three more letters addressed to "Dear C.," bearing +no signature, and yet written by Charles. Desiree read them +carefully with a sort of numb attention which photographed them +permanently on her memory like writing that is carved in stone upon +a wall. There must be some explanation in one of them. Who had +sent them to her? Was Charles dead? + +At last she came to a sealed envelope addressed to herself by +Charles. Some other hand had copied the address from it in +identical terms on the piece of white leather. She opened and read +it. It was the letter written to her by Charles on the bank of the +Kalugha river on the eve of Borodino, and left unfinished by him. +He must be dead. She prayed that he might be. + +She was alone in the room, having come down early, as was her wont, +to prepare breakfast. She heard Lisa talking with some one at the +door--a messenger, no doubt, to say that Charles was dead. + +One letter still remained unread. It was in a different writing-- +the writing on the white leather. + +"Madame," it read, "The enclosed papers were found on the field by +one of my orderlies. One of them being addressed to you, furnishes +a clue to their owner, who must have dropped them in the hurry of +the advance. Should Captain Charles Darragon be your husband, I +have the pleasure to inform you that he was seen alive and well at +the end of the day." The writer assured Desiree of his respectful +consideration, and wrote "Surgeon" after his name. + +Desiree had read the explanation too late. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. IN THE DAY OF REJOICING. + + + + Truth, though it crush me. + +The door of the room stood open, and the sound of a step in the +passage made Desiree glance up, as she hastily put together the +papers found on the battlefield of Borodino. + +Louis d'Arragon was coming into the room, and for an instant, before +his expression changed, she saw all the fatigue that he must have +endured during the night; all that he must have risked. His face +was usually still and quiet; a combination of that contemplative +calm which characterises seafaring faces, and the clean-cut +immobility of a racial type developed by hereditary duties of self- +restraint and command. + +He knew that there had been a battle, and, seeing the papers on the +table, his eyes asked her the inevitable question which his lips +were slow to put into words. + +In reply Desiree shook her head. She looked at the papers in quick +thought. Then she withdrew from them the letter written to her by +Charles--and put the others together. + +"You told me to send for you," she said in a quiet, tired voice, "if +I wanted you. You have saved me the trouble." + +His eyes were hard with anxiety as he looked at her. She held the +letters towards him. + +"By coming," she added, with a glance at him which took in the dust, +and the stains of salt-water on his clothes, the fatigue he sought +to conceal by a rigid stillness, and the tension that was left by +the dangers he had passed through--daring all--to come. + +Seeing that he looked doubtfully at the papers, she spoke again. + +"One," she said, "that one on the stained paper, is addressed to me. +You can read it--since I ask you." + +The letter told him, at all events, that Charles was not killed, +and, seeing his face clear as he read, she gave an odd, curt laugh. + +"Read the others," she said. "Oh! you need not hesitate. You need +not be so particular. Read one, the top one. One is enough." + +The windows stood open, and the morning breeze fluttering the +curtains brought in the gay sound of bells, the high clear bells of +Hanseatic days, rejoicing at Napoleon's new success--by order of +Napoleon. A bee sailed harmoniously into the room, made the circuit +of it, and sought the open again with a hum that faded drowsily into +silence. + +D'Arragon read the letter slowly from beginning to the unsigned end, +while Desiree, sitting at the table, upon which she leant one elbow, +resting her small square chin in the palm of her hand, watched him. + +"Ah?" she exclaimed at length, with a ring of contempt in her voice, +as if at the thought of something unclean. "A spy! It is so easy +for you to keep still, and to hide all you feel." + +D'Arragon folded the letter slowly. It was the fatal letter written +in the upper room in the shoemaker's house in Konigsberg in the +Neuer Markt, where the linden trees grow close to the window. In it +Charles spoke lightly of the sacrifice he had made in leaving +Desiree on his wedding-day, to do the Emperor's bidding. It was +indeed the greatest sacrifice that man can make; for he had thrown +away his honour. + +"It may not be so easy as you think," returned D'Arragon, looking +towards the door + +He had no time to say more; for Mathilde and her father were talking +together on the stairs as they came down. D'Arragon thrust the +letters into his pocket, the only indication he had time to give to +Desiree of the policy they must pursue. He stood facing the door, +alert and quiet, with only a moment in which to shape the course of +more than one life. + +"There is good news, Monsieur," he said to Sebastian. "Though I did +not come to bring it." + +Sebastian pointed interrogatively to the open window, where the +sound of the bells seemed to emphasize the sunlight and the +freshness of the morning. + +"No--not that," returned D'Arragon. "It is a great victory, they +tell me; but it is hard to say whether such news would be good or +bad. It was of Charles that I spoke. He is safe--Madame has +heard." + +He spoke rather slowly, and turned towards Desiree with a measured +gesture, not unlike Sebastian's habitual manner, and a quick glance +to satisfy himself that she had understood and was ready. + +"Yes," said Desiree, "he was safe and well after the battle, but he +gives no details; for the letter was actually written the day +before." + +"With a mere word, added in postscriptum, to say that he was unhurt +at the end of the day," suggested Sebastian, already drawing forward +a chair with a gesture full of hospitality, inviting D'Arragon to be +seated at the simple breakfast-table. But D'Arragon was looking at +Mathilde, who had gone rather hurriedly to the window, as if to +breathe the air. He had caught a glimpse of her face as she passed. +It was hard and set, quite colourless, with bright, sleepless eyes. +D'Arragon was a sailor. He had seen that look in rougher faces and +sterner eyes, and knew what it meant. + +"No details?" asked Mathilde in a muffled voice, without looking +round. + +"No," answered Desiree, who had noticed nothing. How much more +clearly we should understand what is going on around us if we had no +secrets of our own to defend! + +In obedience to Sebastian's gesture, D'Arragon took a chair, and +even as he did so Mathilde came to the table, calm and mistress of +herself again, to pour out the coffee, and do the honours of the +simple meal. D'Arragon, besides having acquired the seamen's habit +of adapting himself unconsciously and unobtrusively to his +surroundings, was of a direct mind, lacking self-consciousness, and +simplified by the pressure of a strong and steady purpose. For +men's minds are like the atmosphere, which is always cleared by a +steady breeze, while a changing wind generates vapours, mist, +uncertainty. + +"And what news do you bring from the sea?" asked Sebastian. "Is +your sky there as overcast as ours in Dantzig?" + +"No, Monsieur, our sky is clearing," answered D'Arragon, eating with +a hearty appetite the fresh bread and butter set before him. "Since +I saw you, the treaties have been signed, as you doubtless know, +between Sweden and Russia and England." + +Nodding his head with silent emphasis, Sebastian gave it to be +understood that he knew that and more. + +"It makes a great difference to us at sea in the Baltic," said +D'Arragon. "We are no longer harassed night and day, like a dog, +hounded from end to end of a hostile street, not daring to look into +any doorway. The Russian ports and Swedish ports are open to us +now." + +"One is glad to hear that your life is one of less hardship," said +Sebastian gravely. "I . . . . who have tasted it." + +Desiree glanced at his lean, hard face. She rose, went out of the +room, and returned in a few minutes carrying a new loaf which she +set on the table before him with a short laugh, and something +glistening in her eyes that was not mirth. + +But neither Desiree nor Mathilde joined in the conversation. They +were glad for their father to have a companion so sympathetic as to +produce a marked difference in his manner. For Sebastian was more +at ease with Louis d'Arragon than he was with Charles, though the +latter had the tie of a common fatherland, and spoke the same French +that Sebastian spoke. D'Arragon's French had the roundness always +imparted to that language by an English voice. It was perfect +enough, but of an educated perfection. + +The talk was of such matters as concerned men more than women; of +armies and war and treaties of peace. For all the world thought +that Alexander of Russia would be brought to his knees by the battle +of Borodino. None knew better how to turn a victory to account than +he who claimed to be victor now. "It does not suffice," Napoleon +wrote to his brother at this time, "to gain a victory. You must +learn to turn it to advantage." + +Save for the one reference to his life in the Baltic during the past +two months, D'Arragon said nothing of himself, of his patient, +dogged work carried on by day and by night in all weathers. Content +to have escaped with his life, he neither referred to, nor thought +of, his part in the negotiations which had resulted in the treaty +just signed. For he had been the link between Russia and England; +the never-failing messenger passing from one to the other with +question and answer which were destined to bear fruit at last in an +understanding brought to perfection in Paris, culminating at Elba. + +Both were guarded in what they said of passing events, and both +seemed to doubt the truth of the reports now flying through the +streets of Dantzig. Even in the quiet Frauengasse all the citizens +were out on their terraces calling questions to those that passed by +beneath the trees. The itinerant tradesman, the milkman going his +round, the vendors of fruit from Langfuhr and the distant villages +of the plain, lingered at the doors to tell the servants the latest +gossip of the market-place. Even in this frontier city, full of +spies, strangers spoke together in the streets, and the sound of +their voices, raised above the clang of carillons, came in at the +open window. + +"At first a victory is always a great one," said D'Arragon, looking +towards the window. + +"It is so easy to ring a bell," added Sebastian, with his rare +smile. + +He was quite himself this morning, and only once did the dull look +arrest his features into the stony stillness which his daughters +knew. + +"You are the only one of your name in Dantzig," said D'Arragon, in +the course of question and answer as to the safe delivery of letters +in time of war. + +"So far as I know, there is no other Sebastian," replied he; and +Desiree, who had guessed the motive of the question, which must have +been in D'Arragon's mind from the beginning, was startled by the +fulness of the answer. It seemed to make reply to more than +D'Arragon had asked. It shattered the last faint hope that there +might have been another Sebastian of whom Charles had written. + +"For myself," said D'Arragon, changing the subject quickly, "I can +now make sure of receiving letters addressed to me in the care of +the English Consul at Riga, or the Consul at Stockholm, should you +wish to communicate with me, or should Madame find leisure to give +me news of her husband." + +"Desiree will no doubt take pleasure in keeping you advised of +Charles's progress. As for myself, I fear I am a bad correspondent. +Perhaps not a desirable one in these days," said Sebastian, his face +slowly clearing. He waved the point aside with a gesture that +looked out of place on a hand lean and spare, emerging from a shabby +brown sleeve without cuff or ruffle. + +"For I feel assured," he went on, "that we shall continue to hear +good news of your cousin; not only that he is safe and well, but +that he makes progress in his profession. He will go far, I am +sure." + +D'Arragon bowed his acknowledgment of this kind thought, and rose +rather hastily. + +"My best chance of quitting the city unseen," he said, "is to pass +through the gates with the market-people returning to the villages. +To do that, I must not delay." + +"The streets are so full," replied Sebastian, glancing out of the +window, "that you will pass through them unnoticed. I see beneath +the trees, a neighbour, Koch the locksmith, who is perhaps waiting +to give me news. While you are saying farewell, I will go out and +speak to him. What he has to tell may interest you and your +comrades at sea--may help your escape from the city this morning." + +He took his hat as he spoke and went to the door. Mathilde, +thirsting for the news that seemed to hum in the streets like the +sound of bees, rose and followed him. Desiree and D'Arragon were +left alone. She had gone to the window, and, turning there, she +looked back at him over her shoulder, where he stood by the door +watching her. + +"So, you see," she said, "there is no other Sebastian." + +D'Arragon made no reply. She came nearer to him, her blue eyes +sombre with contempt for the man she had married. Suddenly she +pointed to the chair which D'Arragon had just vacated. + +"That is where he sat. He has eaten my father's salt a hundred +times," she said, with a short laugh. For whithersoever +civilization may take us, we must still go back to certain primaeval +laws of justice between man and man. + +"You judge too hastily," said D'Arragon; but she interrupted him +with a gesture of warning. + +"I have not judged hastily," she said. "You do not understand. You +think I judge from that letter. That is only a confirmation of +something that has been in my mind for a long time--ever since my +wedding-day. I knew when you came into the room upstairs on that +day that you did not trust Charles." + +"I--?" he asked. + +"Yes," she answered, standing squarely in front of him and looking +him in the eyes. "You did not trust him. You were not glad that I +had married him. I could see it in your face. I have never +forgotten." + +D'Arragon turned away towards the window. Sebastian and Mathilde +were in the street below, in the shade of the trees, talking with +the eager neighbours. + +"You would have stopped it if you could," said Desiree; and he did +not deny it. + +"It was some instinct," he said at length. "Some passing +misgiving." + +"For Charles?" she asked sharply. + +And D'Arragon, looking out of the window, would not answer. She +gave a sudden laugh. + +"One cannot compliment you on your politeness," she said. "Was it +for Charles that you had misgivings?" + +At last D'Arragon turned on his heel. + +"Does it matter?" he asked. "Since I came too late." + +"That is true," she said, after a pause. "You came too late; so it +doesn't matter. And the thing is done now, and I . . . , well, I +suppose I must do what others have done before me--I must make the +best of it." + +"I will help you," said D'Arragon slowly, almost carefully, "if I +can." + +He was still avoiding her eyes, still looking out of the window. +Sebastian was coming up the steps. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. MOSCOW. + + + + Nothing is so disappointing as failure--except success. + +While the Dantzigers with grave faces discussed the news of Borodino +beneath the trees in the Frauengasse, Charles Darragon, white with +dust, rose in his stirrups to catch the first sight of the domes and +cupolas of Moscow. + +It was a sunny morning, and the gold on the churches gleamed and +glittered in the shimmering heat like fairyland. Charles had ridden +to the summit of a hill and sat for a moment, as others had done, in +silent contemplation. Moscow at last! All around him men were +shouting: "Moscow! Moscow!" Grave, white-haired generals waved +their shakos in the air. Those at the summit of the hill called the +others to come. Far down in the valley, where the dust raised by +thousands of feet hung in the air like a mist, a faint sound like +the roar of falling water could be heard. It was the word "Moscow!" +sweeping back to the rearmost ranks of these starving men who had +marched for two months beneath the glaring sun, parched with dust, +through a country that seemed to them a Sahara. Every house they +approached, they had found deserted. Every barn was empty. The +very crops ripening to harvest had been gathered in and burnt. Near +to the miserable farmhouses, a pile of ashes hardly cold marked +where the poor furniture had been tossed upon the fire kindled with +the year's harvest. + +Everywhere it was the same. There are, as God created it, few +countries of a sadder aspect than that which spreads between the +Moskwa and the Vistula. But it has been decreed by the dim laws of +Race that the ugly countries shall be blessed with the greater love +of their children, while men born in a beautiful land seem readiest +to emigrate from it and make the best settlers in a new home. There +is only one country in the world with a ring-fence round it. If a +Russian is driven from his home, he will go to another part of +Russia: there is always room. + +Before the advance of the spoilers, chartered by their leader to +unlimited and open rapine--indeed, he had led them hither with that +understanding--the Prussians, peasant and noble alike, fled to the +East. A hundred times the advance guard, fully alive to the +advantages of their position, had raced to the gates of a chateau +only to find, on breaking open the doors, that it was empty--the +furniture destroyed, the stores burnt, the wine poured out. + +So also in the peasants' huts. Some, more careful than the rest, +had pulled the thatch from the roof to burn it. There was no corn +in this the Egypt of their greedy hopes. And, lest they should +bring the corn with them, the spoilers found the mills everywhere +wrecked. + +It was something new to them. It was new to Napoleon, who had so +frequently been met halfway, who knew that men for greed will part +smilingly with half in order to save the residue. He knew that +many, rather than help a neighbour who is in danger by a robber, +will join the robber and share the spoil, crying out that force +majeure was used to them. + +But, as every man must judge according to his lights, so must even +the greatest find himself in the dark at last. No man of the Latin +race will ever understand the Slav. And because the beginning is +easy--because in certain superficial tricks of speech and thought +Paris and Petersburg are not unlike--so much the more is the breach +widened when necessity digs deeper than the surface. For, to make +the acquaintance of a stranger who seems to be a counterpart of +one's self in thought and taste, is like the first hearing of a +kindred language such as Dutch to the English ear. At first it +sounds like one's own tongue with a hundred identical words, but on +closer listening it will be found that the words mean something +else, and that the whole is incomprehensible and the more difficult +to acquire by the very reason of its resemblance. + +Napoleon thought that the Russians would act as his enemies of the +Latin race had acted. He thought that like his own people they +would be over-confident, urging each other on to great deeds by loud +words and a hundred boasts. But the Russians lack self-confidence, +are timid rather than over-bold, dreamy rather than fiery. Only +their women are glib of speech. He thought that they would begin +very brilliantly and end with a compromise, heart-breaking at first +and soon lived down. + +"They are savages out here in the plains," he said. "It is a +barbaric and stupid instinct that makes them destroy their own +property for the sake of hampering us. As we approach Moscow we +shall find that the more civilized inhabitants of the villages, +enervated by an easy life, rendered selfish by possession of wealth, +will not abandon their property, but will barter and sell to us and +find themselves the victims of our might." + +And the army believed him. For they always believed him. Faith +can, indeed, move mountains. It carried four hundred thousand men, +without provisions, through a barren land. + +And now, in sight of the golden city, the army was still hungry. +Nay! it was ragged already. In three columns it converged on the +doomed capital, driving before it like a swarm of flies the Cossacks +who harassed the advance. + +Here again, on the hill looking down into the smiling valley of the +Moskwa, the unexpected awaited the invaders. The city, shimmering +in the sunlight like the realization of some Arab's dream, was +silent. The Cossacks had disappeared. Except those around the +Kremlin, towering above the river, the city had no walls. + +The army halted while aides-de-camp flew hither and thither on their +weary horses. Charles Darragon, sunburnt, dusty, hoarse with +cheering, was among the first. He looked right and left for de +Casimir, but could not see him. He had not seen his chief since +Borodino, for he was temporarily attached to the staff of Prince +Eugene, who had lost heavily at the Kalugha river. + +It was usual for the army to halt before a beleaguered city and +await the advent in all humility of the vanquished. Commonly it was +the mayor of a town who came, followed by his councillors in their +robes, to explain that the army had abandoned the city, which now +begged to throw itself upon the mercy of the conqueror. + +For this the army waited on that sunny September morning. + +"He is putting on his robes," they said gaily. "He is new to this +work." + +But the mayor of Moscow disappointed them. At last the troops moved +on and camped for the night in a village under the Kremlin walls. +It was here that Charles received a note from de Casimir. + +"I am slightly wounded," wrote that officer, "but am following the +army. At Borodino my horse was killed under me, and I was thrown. +While I was insensible, I was robbed and lost what money I had, as +well as my despatch-case. In the latter was the letter you wrote to +your wife. It is lost, my friend; you must write another." + +Charles was tired. He would put off till to-morrow, he thought, and +write to Desiree from Moscow. As he lay, all dressed on the hard +ground, he fell to thinking of what he should write to Desiree to- +morrow from Moscow. The mere date and address of such a letter +would make her love him the more, he thought; for, like his leaders, +he was dazed by a surfeit of glory. + +As he fell asleep smiling at these happy reflections, Desiree, far +away in Dantzig, was locking in her bureau the letter which had been +lost and found again; while, on the deck of his ship, lifting gently +to the tideway where the Vistula sweeps out into the Dantziger +Bucht, Louis d'Arragon stood fingering reflectively in his jacket- +pocket the unread papers which had fallen from the same despatch- +case. For it is a very small world in which to do wrong, though if +a man do a little good in his lifetime it is--heaven knows--soon +mislaid and trodden under the feet of the new-comers. + +The next day it was definitely ascertained that the citizens of +Moscow had no communication to make to the conquering leaders. Soon +after daylight the army moved towards the city. The suburbs were +deserted. The houses stood with closed shutters and locked doors. +Not so much as a dog awaited the triumphant entry through the city +gates. + +Long streets without a living being from end to end met the eyes of +those daring organizers of triumphal entries who had been sent +forward to clear a path and range the respectful citizens on either +hand. But there were no citizens. There was not a single witness +to this triumph of the greatest army the world had seen, led across +Europe by the first captain in all history to conquer a virgin +capital. + +The various corps marched to their quarters in silence, with nervous +glances at the shuttered windows. Some, breaking rank, ventured +into the churches which stood open. The candles were lighted on the +altars, they reported to their comrades in a hushed voice when they +returned, but there was no one there. + +Certain palaces were selected as head-quarters for the general +officers and the chiefs of various departments. As often as not a +summons would be answered and the door opened by an obsequious +porter, who handed the keys to the first-comer. But he spoke no +French, and only cringed in silence when addressed. Other doors +were broken in. + +It was like a play acted in dumb show on an immense stage. It was +disquieting and incomprehensible even to the oldest campaigner, +while the young fire-eaters, fresh from St. Cyr, were strangely +depressed by it. There was a smell of sour smoke in the air, a +suggestion of inevitable tragedy. + +On the Krasnaya Ploschad--the great Red Square, which is the central +point of the old town--the soldiers were already buying and selling +the spoil wrested from the burning Exchange. It seemed that the +citizens before leaving had collected their merchandise in this +building to burn it. To the rank-and-file this meant nothing but an +incomprehensible stupidity. To the educated and the thoughtful it +was another evidence of that dumb and sullen capacity for infinite +self-sacrifice which makes Russians different from any other race, +and which has yet to be reckoned with in the history of the world. +For it will tend to the greatest good of the greatest number, and is +a power for national aggrandisement quite unattainable by any Latin +people. + +Charles, with the other officers of Prince Eugene's staff, was +quartered in a palace on the Petrovka--that wide street running from +the Kremlin northward to the boulevards and the parks. Going +towards it he passed through the bazaars and the merchants' +quarters, where, like an army of rag-pickers, the eager looters were +silently hurrying from heap to heap. Every warehouse had, it +seemed, been ransacked and its contents thrown out into the streets. +The first-comers had hurried on, seeking something more valuable, +more portable, leaving the later arrivals to turn over their garbage +like dogs upon a dust-heap. + +The Petrovka is a long street of great houses, and was now deserted. +The pillagers were nervous and ill at ease, as men must always be in +the presence of something they do not understand. The most +experienced of them--and there were some famous robbers in Murat's +vanguard--had never seen an empty city abandoned all standing, as +the Russians had abandoned Moscow. They felt apprehensive of the +unknown. Even the least imaginative of them looked askance at the +tall houses, at the open doors of the empty churches, and they kept +together for company's sake. + +Charles's rooms were in the Momonoff Palace, where even the youngest +lieutenant had vast apartments assigned to him. It was in one of +these--a lady's boudoir, where his dust-covered baggage had been +thrown down carelessly by his orderly on a blue satin sofa--that he +sat down to write to Desiree. + +His emotions had been stirred by all that he had passed through--by +the first sight of Moscow, by the passage beneath the Gate of the +Redeemer, where every man must uncover and only Napoleon dared to +wear a hat; by the bewildering sense of triumph and the knowledge +that he was taking part in one of the epochs of man's history on +this earth. The emotions lie very near together, so that laughter +being aroused must also touch on tears, and hatred being kindled +warms the heart to love. + +And, here in this unknown woman's room, with the very pen that she +had thrown aside, Charles, who wrote and spoke his love with such +facility, wrote to Desiree a love-letter such as he had never +written before. + +When it was sealed and addressed he called his orderly to take it to +the officer to whose duty it fell to make up the courier for +Germany. But he received no reply. The man had joined his comrades +in the busier quarters of the city. Charles went to the head of the +stairs and called again, with no better success. The house was +comparatively modern, built on the familiar lines of a Parisian +hotel, with a wide stair descending to an entrance archway where +carriages passed through into a courtyard. + +Descending the stairs, Charles found that even the sentry had +absented himself from his duty. His musket, leant against the post +of the stone doorway, indicated that he was not far. Listening in +the silence of that great house, Charles heard some one at work with +hammer and chisel in the courtyard. He went there, and found the +sentry kneeling at a low door, endeavouring to break it open. The +man had not been idle; from a piece of rope slung across his back +half a dozen clocks were suspended. They rattled together like the +wares of a travelling tinsmith at every movement of his arms. + +"What are you doing there, my friend?" asked Charles. + +The man held up one finger over his shoulder without looking round, +and shook it from side to side, as not desiring to be interrupted. + +"The cellar," he answered, "always the cellar. It is human nature. +We get it from the animals." + +He glanced round as he worked, and, perceiving that he had been +addressing an officer, he scrambled to his feet with a grumbled +curse. He was an old man, baked by the sun. The wrinkles in his +face were filled with dust. Since quitting the banks of the Vistula +no opportunity for ablution seemed to have presented itself to him. +He stood at attention, his lips working over sunken gums. + +"I want you to take this letter," said Charles, "to the officer on +service at head-quarters, and ask him to include it in his courier. +It is, as you see, a private letter--to my wife at Dantzig." + +The man looked at it, and grumbled something inaudible. He took it +in his hand and turned it over with the slow manner of the +illiterate. + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE GOAL. + + + + God writes straight on crooked lines. + +Charles, having given his letter to the sentry with the order to +take it to its immediate destination, turned towards the stairs +again. In those days an order was given in a different tone to that +which servitude demands in later times. + +He returned to his room on the first floor without even waiting to +make sure that he would be obeyed. He had scarcely seated himself +when, after a fumbling knock, the sentry opened the door and +followed him into the room, still holding the letter in his hand. + +"Mon capitaine," he said with a certain calmness of manner as from +an old soldier to a young one, "a word--that is all. This letter," +he turned it in his hand as he spoke, and looking at Charles beneath +scowling brows, awaited an explanation. "Did you pick it up?" + +"No--I wrote it." + +"Good. I . . . " he paused, and tapped himself on the chest so that +there could be no mistake; there was a rattling sound behind him +suggestive of ironware. Indeed, he was hung about with other things +than clocks, and seemed to be of opinion that if a soldier sets +value upon any object he must attach it to his person. "I, Barlasch +of the Guard--Marengo, the Danube, Egypt--picked up after Borodino a +letter like it. I cannot read very quickly--indeed-- Bah! the old +Guard needs no pens and paper--but that letter I picked up was just +like this" + +"Was it addressed like that to Madame Desiree Darragon?" + +"So a comrade told me. It is you, her husband?" + +"Yes," answered Charles, "since you ask; I am her husband." + +"Ah!" replied Barlasch darkly, and his limbs and features settled +themselves into a patient waiting. + +"Well," asked Charles, "what are you waiting for?" + +"Whatever you may think proper, mon capitaine, for I gave the letter +to the surgeon who promised that it should be forwarded to its +address." + +Charles laughingly sought his purse. But there was nothing in it, +so he looked round the room. + +"Here, add this to your collection," and he took a small French +clock from the writing-table, a pretty, gilded toy from Paris. + +"Thank you, mon capitaine." + +Barlasch, with shaking fingers, unknotted the rope around his +shoulders. As he was doing so one of the clocks on his back began +to strike. He paused, and stood looking gravely at his superior +officer. Another clock took up the tale and a third, while Barlasch +sternly stood at attention. + +"Four o'clock," he said to himself, "and I, who have not yet +breakfasted--" + +With a grunt and a salute he turned towards the door which stood +open. Some one was coming up the stairs rather slowly, his spurs +clinking, his scabbard clashing against the gilded banisters. Papa +Barlasch stood aside at attention, and Colonel de Casimir came into +the room with a gay word of greeting. Barlasch went out, but he did +not close the door. It is to be presumed that he stood without, +where he might have overheard all that they said to each other for +quite a long time, until it was almost the half-hour when the clocks +would strike again. But de Casimir, perceiving that the door was +open, closed it quietly from within, and Barlasch, shut out on the +wide landing, made a grimace at the massive woodwork before turning +to descend the stairs. + +It was the middle of September, and the days were shortening. The +dusk of evening had already closed over the city when de Casimir and +Charles at length came downstairs. No one had troubled to open the +shutters of such rooms as were not required; and these were many. +For Moscow was even at that day a great city, though less spacious +and more fantastic than it is to-day. There was plenty of room for +the whole army in the houses left empty by their owners, so that +many lodged as they had never lodged before and would never lodge +again. + +The stairs were almost dark when Charles and his companion descended +them. The rusted musket poised against the doorpost still indicated +the supposed presence of a sentry. + +"Listen," said Charles, "I found him burrowing like a rat at a +cellar-door in the courtyard. Perhaps he has got in." + +They listened, but could hear nothing. Charles led the way towards +the courtyard. A glimmer of light guided him to the door he sought. +It stood open. Barlasch had succeeded in effecting an entry to the +cellar, where his experience taught him to seek the best that an +abandoned house contains. + +Charles and de Casimir peered down the narrow stairs. By the light +of a candle Barlasch was working vigorously amid a confused pile of +cases, and furniture, and roughly tied bundles of clothing. He had +laid aside nothing, and his movements were attended by the usual +rattle of hollow-ware. They could see the perspiration gleaming on +his face. Even in this cellar there lingered the faint smell of +sour smoke that filled the air of Moscow. + +De Casimir caught the gleam of jewellery, and went hurriedly +downstairs. + +"What are you doing there, my friend?" he asked, and the words were +scarcely out of his mouth, when Barlasch extinguished his candle. +There followed a dead silence, such as comes when a rodent is +disturbed at his work. The two men on the cellar-stairs were +conscious of the gaze of the bright, rat-like eyes below. + +De Casimir turned and followed Charles upstairs again. + +"Come up," he said, "and go to your post." + +There was no movement in response. + +"Name of a dog," cried de Casimir, "is all discipline relaxed? Come +up, I tell you, and obey my orders." + +He emphasized his command with the cocking of a pistol, and a slight +disturbance in the darkness of the cellar heralded the unwilling +approach of Barlasch, who climbed the stairs step by step like a +schoolboy coming to punishment. + +"It is I who found the door, mon colonel, behind that pile of +firewood. It is I who opened it. What is down there is mine," he +said, sullenly. But the only reply that de Casimir made was to +seize him by the arm and jerk him away from the stairs. + +"To your post," he said, "take your arm, and out into the street, in +front of the house. That is your place." + +But while he was still speaking, they were all startled by a sudden +disturbance in the cellar, and in the gloom a man stumbled up the +stairs and ran past them. Barlasch had taken the precaution of +bolting the huge front door, which was large enough to give passage +to a carriage. The man, who exhaled an atmosphere of dust mingled +with the disquieting and all-pervading odour of smoke, rushed at the +huge door and tugged furiously at its handles. + +Charles, who was on his heels, grasped his arm, but the man swung +round and threw him off as if he were a child. He had a hatchet in +his hand with which he aimed a blow at Charles, but missed him. +Barlasch was already going towards his musket, which stood in the +corner against the door-post, but the Russian saw his movement, and +forestalled him. Seizing the gun, he presented the bayonet to them, +and stood with his back to the door, facing the three men in a +breathless silence. He was a large man, dishevelled, with long hair +tumbled about his head, and light-coloured eyes, glaring like the +eyes of a beast at bay. + +In the background de Casimir, quick and calm, had already covered +him with the pistol produced as a persuasive to Barlasch. For a +second there was silence, during which they all could hear the call +to arms in the street outside. The patrol was hurrying down the +Petrovka, calling the assembly. + +The report of the pistol rang through the house, shaking the doors +and windows. The man threw up his arms and stood for a moment +looking at de Casimir with an expression of blank amazement. Then +his legs seemed to slip away from beneath him, and he collapsed to +the floor. He turned over with movements singularly suggestive of a +child seeking a comfortable position in bed, and lay quite still, +his cheek on the pavement and his staring eyes turned towards the +cellar-door from which he had emerged. + +"He has his affair--that parishioner," muttered Barlasch, looking at +him with a smile that twisted his mouth to one side. And, as he +spoke, the man's throat rattled. De Casimir was reloading his +pistol. So persistent was the gaze of the dead man's eyes that de +Casimir turned on his heel to look in the same direction. + +"Quick!" he exclaimed, pointing to the doorway, from which a lazy +white smoke emerged in thin puffs. "Quick, he has set fire to the +house!" + +"Quick--with what, mon colonel?" asked Barlasch. + +"Why, go and fetch some men with a fire-engine." + +"There are no fire-engines left in Moscow, mon colonel!" + +"Then find buckets, and tell me where the well is." + +"There are no buckets left in Moscow, mon colonel. We found that +out last night, when we wanted to water the horses. The citizens +have removed them. And there is not a well of which the rope has +not been cut. They are droll companions, these Russians, I can tell +you." + +"Do as I tell you," repeated de Casimir, angrily, "or I shall put +you under arrest. Go and fetch men to help me to extinguish this +fire." + +By way of reply, Barlasch held up one finger in a childlike gesture +of attention to some distant sound. + +"No, thank you," he said, coolly, "not for me. Discipline, mon +colonel, discipline. Listen, you can hear the 'assembly' as well as +I. It is the Emperor that one obeys. One thinks of one's military +career." + +With knotted and shaking fingers he drew back the bolts and opened +the door. On the threshold he saluted. + +"It is the call to arms, mes officiers," he said. Then, shouldering +his musket, he turned away, and all his clocks struck six. The +bells of the city churches seemed to greet him as he stepped into +the street, for in Moscow each hour is proclaimed with deafening +iteration from a thousand towers. + +He looked down the Petrovka; from half the houses which bordered the +wide roadway--a street of palaces--the smoke was pouring forth in +puffs. He went uphill towards the Red Square and the Kremlin, where +the Emperor had his head-quarters. It was to this centre that the +patrols had converged. Looking back, Barlasch saw, not one house on +fire, but a hundred. The smoke arose from every quarter of the city +at once. He hurried on, but was stopped by a crowd of soldiers, all +laden with booty, gesticulating, shouting, abusing one another. It +was Babel over again. The riff-raff of sixteen nations had followed +Napoleon to Moscow--to rob. Half a dozen different tongues were +spoken in one army corps. There remained no national pride to act +as a deterrent. No man cared what he did. The blame would be laid +upon France. + +The crowd was collected in front of a high, many-windowed building +in flames. + +"What is it?" Barlasch asked first one and then another. But no one +spoke his tongue. At last he found a Frenchman. + +"It is the hospital." + +"And what is that smell? What is burning there?" + +"Twelve thousand wounded," answered the man, with a sickening laugh. +And even as he spoke one or two of the wounded dragged themselves, +half burnt, down the wide steps. No one dared to approach them, for +the walls of the building were already bulging outwards. One man +was half covered with a sheet which was black, and his bare limbs +were black with smoke. All the hair was burnt from his head and +face. He stood for a moment in the doorway--a sight never to be +forgotten--and then fell headlong down the steps, where he lay +motionless. Some one in the crowd laughed--a high cackle which was +heard above the roar of the fire and the deafening chorus of burning +timbers. + +Barlasch passed on, following some officers who were leading their +horses towards the Kremlin. The streets were full of soldiers +carrying burdens, and staggering beneath the weight of their spoil. +Many were wearing priceless fur cloaks, and others walked in women's +wraps of sable and ermine. Some wore jewellery, such as necklaces, +on their rough uniforms, and bracelets round their sunburnt wrists. +No one laughed at them, but only glanced enviously at the pillage. +All were in deadly earnest, and none graver than those who had found +drink and now regretted that they had given way to the temptation; +for their sober comrades had outwitted them in finding treasure. + +One man gravely wore a gilt coronet crammed over the crown of his +shako. He joined Barlasch, staggering along beside him. + +"I come from the Cathedral," he explained, confidentially. "St. +Michael they call it. They said there was great treasure there +hidden in the cellars, but I only found a company of old kings in +their coffins. We stirred them up. They were quiet enough when we +found them, under their counterpanes of red velvet. We stirred them +up with the bayonet, and the dust got into our throats and choked +us. Name of God, I am thirsty. You have nothing in your bottle, +comrade?" + +"No." + +Barlasch trudged on, all his possessions swinging and clanking +together. The confidential man turned towards him and lifted his +water-bottle, weighed it, and found it wanting. + +"Name of a name, of a name, of a name," he muttered, walking on. +"Yes, there was nothing there. Even the silver plates on the +coffins with the names of those gentlemen were no thicker than a +sword. But I found a crown in the church itself. I borrowed it +from St. Michael. He had a sword in his hand, but he did not +strike. No. And there was only tinsel on the hilt. No jewels." + +He walked on in silence for a few minutes, coughing out the smoke +and dust from his lungs. It was almost dark, but the whole city was +blazing now, and the sky glowed with a red light that mingled with +the remnants of a lurid sunset. A strong wind blew the smoke and +the flying sparks across the roofs. + +"Then I went into the sacristy," continued the man, stumbling over +the dead body of a young girl and turning to curse her. Barlasch +looked at him sideways and cursed him for doing it, with a sudden +fierce eloquence. For Papa Barlasch was a man of unclean lips. + +"There was an old man in there, a sacristan. I asked him where he +kept the dishes, and he said he could not speak French. I jerked my +bayonet into him--name of a name! he soon spoke French." + +Barlasch broke off these delicate confidences by a quick word of +command, and himself stood rigid in the roadway before the Imperial +Palace of the Kremlin, presenting arms. A man passed close by them +on his way towards a waiting carriage. He was stout and heavy- +shouldered, peculiarly square, with a thick neck and head set low in +the shoulders. On the step of the carriage he turned and surveyed +the lurid sky and the burning city to the east with an indifferent +air. Into his deep bloodshot eyes there flashed a sudden gleam of +life and power, as he glanced along the row of watching faces to +read what was written there. + +It was Napoleon, at the summit of his dream, hurriedly quitting the +Kremlin, the boasted goal of his ambition, after having passed but +one night under that proud roof. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. THE FIRST OF THE EBB. + + + + Tho' he trip and fall + He shall not blind his soul with clay. + +The days were short, and November was drawing to its end when +Barlasch returned to Dantzig. Already the frost, holding its own +against a sun that seemed to linger in the North that year, +exercised its sway almost to midday, and drew a mist from the level +plains. + +The autumn had been one of unprecedented splendour, making the +imaginative whisper that Napoleon, like a second Joshua, could exact +obedience even from the sun. A month earlier, soon after the +retreat was ordered, the nights had begun to be cold, but the days +remained brilliant. Now the rivers were shrouded in white mist, and +still water was frozen. + +Barlasch seemed to take it for understood that a billet holds good +throughout a whole campaign. But the door of No. 36 Frauengasse was +locked when he turned its iron handle. He knocked, and waited on +the step. + +It was Desiree who opened the door at length--Desiree, grown older, +with something new in her eyes. Barlasch, sure of his entree, had +already removed his boots, which he carried in his hand; this added +to a certain surreptitiousness in his attitude. A handkerchief was +bound over his left eye. He wore his shako still, but the rest of +his uniform verged on the fantastic. Under a light-blue Bavarian +cavalry cape he wore a peasant's homespun shirt, and he carried no +arms. + +He pushed past Desiree rather unceremoniously, glad to get within +doors. He was very lame, and of his blue knitted stockings only the +legs remained; he was barefoot. + +He limped towards the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder to make +sure that Desiree shut the door. The chair he had made his own +stood just within the open door of the kitchen. It was nine o'clock +in the morning, and Lisa had gone to market. Barlasch sat down. + +"Voila," he said, and that was all. But by a gesture he described +the end of the world. Then he scowled at her with his available eye +with suspicion, and she turned away suddenly, as one may who has not +a clear conscience. + +"What is the matter with your eye?" she asked, in order to break the +silence. He laid aside his hat, and his ragged hair, quite white, +fell to his shoulders. By way of answer, he unknotted the +bloodstained dusky handkerchief, and looked up at her. The hidden +eye was uninjured and as bright as the other. + +"Nothing," he answered, and he confirmed the statement by a low-born +wink. More than once he glanced, with a glaring light in his eye, +towards the cupboard where Lisa kept the bread, and quite suddenly +Desiree knew that he was starving. She ran to the cupboard, and +hurriedly set down on the table before him what was there. It was +not much--a piece of cold meat and a whole loaf. + +He had taken off his haversack, and was fumbling in it with unsteady +hands. At last he found that which he sought. It was wrapped in a +silk scarf that must have come from Cashmere to Moscow, and from +Moscow in his haversack with pieces of horseflesh and muddy roots to +Dantzig. With that awkwardness in giving and taking which belongs +to his class, he held out to Desiree a little square "ikon" no +bigger than a playing-card. It was of gold, set with diamonds, and +the faces of the Virgin and Child were painted with exquisite +delicacy. + +"It is a thing to say your prayers to," he said gruffly. + +By an effort he kept his eyes averted from the food on the table. + +"I met a baker on the bridge," he said, "and offered it to him for a +loaf, but he refused." + +And there was a whole history of human suffering and temptation--of +the human fall--in his curt laugh. While Desiree was looking at the +treasure in speechless admiration, he turned suddenly and took the +bread and meat in his grimy hands. His crooked fingers closed over +the loaf, making the crust crack, and for a second the expression of +his face was not human. Then he hurried to the room that had been +his, like a dog that seeks to hide its greed in its kennel. + +In a surprisingly short time he came back, the greyness all gone +from his face, though his eyes still glittered with the dry, hard +light of starvation. He went back to the chair near the door, and +sat down. + +"Seven hundred miles," he said, looking down at his feet with a +shake of the head, "seven hundred miles in six weeks." + +Then he glanced at her and out through the open door, to make sure +none could overhear. + +"Because I was afraid," he added in a whisper. "I am easily +frightened. I am not brave." + +Desiree shook her head and laughed. Women have from all time +accepted the theory that a uniform makes a man courageous. + +"They had to abandon the guns," he went on, "soon after quitting +Moscow. The horses were starving. There was a steep hill, and the +guns were left at the bottom. Then I began to be afraid. There +were some marching with candelabras on their backs and nothing in +their carnassieres. They carried a million francs on their +shoulders and death in their faces. I was afraid. I carried salt-- +salt--and nothing else. Then one day I saw the Emperor's face. +That was enough. The same night I crept away while the others slept +round the fire. They looked like a masquerade. Some of them wore +ermine. Oh! I was afraid, I tell you. I only had the salt and some +horse. There was plenty of that on the road. And that toy. I +found it in Moscow. I stood in a cellar, as big as this room, full +of such things. But one thinks of one's life. I only carried salt, +and that picture for you . . . to say your prayers to. The good +God will hear you, perhaps; He has no time to listen to us others." + +And he used the last words as a French peasant, which is a survival +of serfdom that has come down through the furnace of the Revolution. + +"But I cannot take it," said Desiree. "It is worth a million +francs." + +He looked at her fiercely. + +"You think that I look for something in return?" + +"Oh no!" she answered, "I have nothing to give you in return. I am +as poor as you." + +"Then we can be friends," he said. He was eyeing surreptitiously a +mug of beer which Desiree had set before him on the table. Some +instinct, or the teaching of the last two months, made it repugnant +to him to eat or drink beneath his neighbour's eye. He was a sorry- +looking figure, not far removed from the animals, and in his +downward journey he had picked up, perhaps, the instinct which none +can explain, telling an animal to take its food in secret. + +Desiree went to the window, turning her back to him, and looked out +into the yard. She heard him drink, and set the mug down again with +a gulp. + +"You were in Moscow?" she said at length, half turning towards him +so that he could see her profile and her short upper lip, which was +parted as if to ask a question which she did not put into words. He +looked her slowly up and down beneath his heavy eyebrows, his little +cunning eyes alight with suspicion. He watched her parted lips, +which were tilted at the corners, showing humour and a nature quick +to laugh or suffer. Then he jerked his head upwards as if he saw +the unasked question quivering there, and bore her some malice for +her silence. + +"Yes! I was in Moscow," he said, watching the colour fade from her +face. "And I saw him--your husband--there. I was on guard outside +his door the night we entered the city. It was I who carried to the +post the letter he wrote you. He was very anxious that it should +reach you. You received it--that love-letter?" + +"Yes," answered Desiree gravely, in no wise responding to a sudden +forced gaiety in Papa Barlasch, which was only an evidence of the +shyness with which rough men all the world over approach the subject +of love. The gaiety lapsed into a sudden silence. He waited for +her to ask a question, but in vain. + +"I never saw him again," went on Barlasch, "for the 'general' +sounded, and I went out into the streets to find the city on fire. +In a great army, as in a large country, one may easily lose one's +own brother. But he will return--have no fear. He has good +fortune--the fine gentleman." + +He stopped and scratched his head, looked at her sideways with a +grimace of bewilderment. + +"It is good news I bring you," he muttered. "He was alive and well +when we began the retreat. He was on the staff, and the staff had +horses and carriages. They had bread to eat, I am told." + +"And you--what had you?" asked Desiree, over her shoulder. + +"No matter," he answered gruffly, "since I am here." + +"And yet you believe in that man still," flashed out Desiree, +turning to face him. + +Barlasch held up a warning finger, as if bidding her to be silent on +a subject on which she was not capable of forming a judgment. He +wagged his head from side to side and heaved a sigh. + +"I tell you," he said, "I saw his face after Malo-Jaroslavetz; we +lost ten thousand that day. And I was afraid. For I saw in it that +he was going to leave us as he did in Egypt. I am not afraid when +he is there--not afraid of the Devil--or the bon Dieu, but when +Napoleon is not there--" He broke off with a gesture describing +abject terror. + +"They say in Dantzig," said Desiree, "that he will never get back +across the Beresina, for the Russians are bringing two armies to +stop him there. They say that the Prussians will turn against him." + +"Ah--they say that already?" + +"Yes." + +He looked at her with a sudden light of anger in his eyes. + +"Who has taught you to hate Napoleon?" he asked bluntly. + +And again Desiree turned away from his glance as if she could not +meet it. + +"No one," she answered. + +"It is not the patron," said Barlasch, muttering his thoughts as he +hobbled to the door of his little room, and began unloading his +belongings with a view to ablution; for he was a self-contained +traveller, carrying with him all he required. "It is not the +patron. Because such a hatred as his cannot be spoken of. It is +not your husband, because Napoleon is his god." + +He broke off with one of his violent jerks of the head, almost +threatening to dislocate his neck, and looked at her fixedly. + +"It is because you have grown into a woman since I went away." + +And out came his accusing finger, though Desiree had her back turned +towards him, and there was none other to see. + +"Ah!" he said, with deadly contempt, "I see, I see!" + +"Did you expect me to grow up into a man?" asked Desiree, over her +shoulder. + +Barlasch stood in the doorway, his lips and jaw moving as if he were +masticating winged words. At length, having failed to find a +tremendous answer, he softly closed the door. + +This was not the only wise old veteran of the Grand Army to see +which way the wind blew; for many another after the battle of Malo- +Jaroslavetz packed upon his back such spoil as he could carry, and +set off on foot for France. For the cold had come at length, and +not a horse in the French army was roughed for the snowy roads, nor, +indeed, had provision been made to rough them. This was a sign not +lost upon those who had horses to care for. The Emperor, who forgot +nothing, had forgotten this. He who foresaw everything, had omitted +to foresee the winter. He had ordered a retreat from Moscow, in the +middle of October, of an army in summer clothing, without provision +for the road. The only hope was to retreat through a new line of +country not despoiled by the enormous army in its advance of every +grain of corn, every blade of grass. But this hope was frustrated by +the Russians who, hemming them in, forced them to keep the road +along which they had made so triumphant a march on Moscow. + +Already, in the ranks, it was whispered that by the light of the +burning city some had perceived dark forms moving on the distant +plains--a Russian army passing westward in front of them to await +and cut them off at the passage of some river. The Russians had +fought well at Borodino: they fought desperately at Malo- +Jaroslavetz, which town was taken and retaken eleven times and left +in cinders. + +The Grand Army was no longer in a position to choose its way. It +was forced to cross again the battlefield of Borodino, where thirty +thousand dead lay yet unburied. But Napoleon was still with them, +his genius flashing out at times with something of the fire which +had taken men's breath away and burnt his name indelibly into the +pages of the world's history. Even when hard pressed, he never +missed a chance of attacking. The enemy never made a mistake that +he did not give them reason to rue it. + +To the waiting world came at length the news that the winter, so +long retarded, had closed down over Russia. In Dantzig, so near the +frontier, a hundred rumours chased each other through the streets; +and day by day Antoine Sebastian grew younger and gayer. It seemed +as if a weight long laid upon his heart had been lifted at last. He +made a journey to Konigsberg soon after Barlasch's return, and came +back with eager eyes. His correspondence was enormous. He had, it +seemed, a hundred friends who gave him news and asked something in +exchange--advice, encouragement, warning. And all the while men +whispered that Prussia would ally herself to Russia, Sweden, and +England. + +From Paris came news of a growing discontent. For France, among a +multitude of virtues, has one vice unpardonable to Northern men: +she turns from a fallen friend. + +Soon followed the news of Beresina--a poor little river of +Lithuania--where the history of the world hung for a day as on a +thread. But a flash of the dying genius surmounted superhuman +difficulties, and the catastrophe was turned into a disaster. The +divisions of Victor and Oudinot--the last to preserve any semblance +of military discipline--were almost annihilated. The French lost +twelve thousand killed or drowned in the river, sixteen thousand +prisoners, twelve of the remaining guns. But they were across the +Beresina. There was no longer a Grand Army, however. There was no +army at all--only a starving, struggling trail of men stumbling +through the snow, without organization or discipline or hope. + +It was a disaster on the same gigantic scale as the past victories-- +a disaster worthy of such a conqueror. Even his enemies forgot to +rejoice. They caught their breath and waited. + +And suddenly came the news that Napoleon was in Paris. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. A FORLORN HOPE. + + + + The fire i' the flint + Shows not, till it be struck. + +"It is time to do something," said Papa Barlasch on the December +morning when the news reached Dantzig that Napoleon was no longer +with the army--that he had made over the parody of command of the +phantom army to Murat, King of Naples--that he had passed like an +evil spirit unknown through Poland, Prussia, Germany, travelling +twelve hundred miles night and day at breakneck speed, alone, racing +to Paris to save his throne. + +"It is time to do something," said all Europe, when it was too late. +For Napoleon was himself again--alert, indomitable, raising a new +army, calling on France to rise to such heights of energy and +vitality as only France can compass; for the colder nations of the +North lack the imagination that enables men to pit themselves +against the gods at the bidding of some stupendous will, only second +to the will of God Himself. + +"Go to Dantzig, and hold it till I come," Napoleon had said to Rapp. +"Retreat to Poland, and hold on to anything you can till I come back +with a new army," he had commanded Murat and Prince Eugene. + +"It is time to do something," said all the conquered nations, +looking at each other for initiation. And lo! the Master of +Surprises struck them dumb by his sudden apparition in his own +capital, with all the strings of the European net gathered as if by +magic into his own hands again. + +While everybody told his neighbour that it was time to do something, +no one knew what to do. For it has pleased the Creator to put a +great many talkers into this world and only a few men of action to +make its history. + +Papa Barlasch knew what to do, however. + +"Where is that sailor?" he asked Desiree, when she had told him the +news which Mathilde brought in from the streets. "He who took the +patron's valise that night--the cousin of your husband." + +"There is a man at Zoppot who will tell you," she answered. + +"Then I go to Zoppot." + +Barlasch had lived unmolested in the Frauengasse since his return. +He was an old man, ill-clad, with a bloody handkerchief bound over +one eye. No one asked him any questions, except Sebastian, who +heard again and again the tale of Moscow--how the army which had +crossed into Russia four hundred thousand strong was reduced to a +hundred thousand when the retreat began; how handmills were issued +to the troops to grind corn which did not exist; how the horses died +in thousands and the men in hundreds from starvation; how God at +last had turned his face from Napoleon. + +"Something must be done. The patron will do nothing; he is in the +clouds, he is dreaming dreams of a new France, that bourgeois. I am +an old man. Yes, I will go to Zoppot." + +"You mean that we should have heard from Charles before now," said +Desiree. + +"Name of thunder! he may be in Paris!" exclaimed Barlasch, with the +sudden anger that anxiety commands. "He is on the staff, I tell +you." + +For suspense is one of the most contagious of human emotions, and +makes a quicker call upon our sympathy than any other. Do we not +feel such a desire that our neighbour may know the worst without +delay, that we race to impart it to him? + +Nor was Desiree alone in the trial which had drawn certain lines +about her gay lips; for Mathilde had told her father and sister that +should Colonel de Casimir return from the war he would ask her hand +in marriage. + +"And that other--the Colonel," added Barlasch, glancing at Mathilde, +"he is on the staff too. They are safe enough, I tell you that. +They are doubtless together. They were together at Moscow. I saw +them, and took an order from them. They were . . . at their work." + +Mathilde did not like Papa Barlasch. She would, it seemed, rather +have no news at all of de Casimir than learn it from the old +soldier, for she quitted the room without even troubling to throw +him a glance of disdain. + +Barlasch waited with working lips until the sound of her footsteps +ceased on the stairs. Then he pushed across the kitchen table a +piece of writing-paper, rather yellow and woolly. It had been to +Moscow and back. + +"Write a word to him," he said. "I will take it to Zoppot." + +"But you can send a message by the fisherman whose name I have given +you," answered Desiree. + +"And will he heed the message? Will he come ashore at a word from +me--only Barlasch? Remember it is his life that he carries in his +hand. An English sailor with a French name! Thunder of thunder! +They would shoot him like a rat!" + +Desiree shook her head; but Barlasch was not to be denied. He +brought pen and ink from the dresser, and pushed them across the +table. + +"I would not ask it," he said, "if it was not necessary. Do you +think he will mind the danger? He will like it. He will say to me, +'Barlasch, I thank you.' Ah? I know him. Write. He will come." + +"Why?" asked Desiree. + +"Why? How should I know that? He came before when you asked him." + +Desiree leant over the table and wrote six words: + +"Come, if you can come safely." + +Barlasch took up the paper, and, pushing up the bandage which had +served to bring him unharmed through Russia, he frowned at it +without understanding. + +"It is not all writings that I can read," he admitted. "Have you +signed it?" + +"No." + +"Then sign something that he will know, and no other--they might +shoot me. Your baptismal name." + +And she wrote "Desiree" after the six words. + +Barlasch folded the paper carefully and placed it in the lining of +an old felt hat of Sebastian's which he now wore. He bound a scarf +over his ears, after the manner of those who live on the Baltic +shores in winter. + +"You can leave the rest to me," he said; and, with a nod and a +grimace expressive of cunning, he left her. + +He did not return that night. The days were short now, for the +winter was well set in. It was nearly dark the next afternoon and +very cold when he came back. He sent Lisa upstairs for Desiree. + +"First," he said, "there is a question for the patron. Will he quit +Dantzig?--that is the question." + +"No," answered Desiree. + +"Rapp is coming," said Barlasch, emphasizing each point with one +finger against the side of his nose. "He will hold Dantzig. There +will be a siege. Let the patron make no mistake. It will not be +like the last one. Rapp was outside then; he will be inside this +time. He will hold Dantzig till the bottom falls out of the world." + +"My father will not leave," said Desiree. "He has said so. He +knows that Rapp is coming, with the Russians behind him." + +"But," interrupted Barlasch, "he thinks that Prussia will turn and +declare war against Napoleon. That may be. Who knows? The +question is, Can the patron be induced to quit Dantzig?" + +Desiree shook her head. + +"It is not I," said Barlasch, "who ask the question. You +understand?" + +"Yes, I understand. My father will not quit Dantzig." + +Whereupon Barlasch made a gesture conveying a desire to think as +kindly of Antoine Sebastian as he could. + +"In half an hour," he said, "when it is dark, will you come for a +walk with me along the Langfuhr road--where the unfinished ramparts +are?" + +Desiree looked at him and hesitated. + +"Oh--good--if you are afraid--" said Barlasch. + +"I am not afraid--I will come," she answered quickly. + +The snow was hard when they set out, and squeaked under their feet, +as it does with a low thermometer. + +"We shall leave no tracks," said Barlasch, as he led the way off the +Langfuhr road towards the river. There was broken ground here, +where earthworks had been begun and never completed. The trees had +been partly cut, and beneath the snow were square mounds showing +where the timber had been piled up. But since the departure of +Rapp, all had been left incomplete. + +Barlasch turned towards Desiree and pointed out a rising knoll of +land with fir-trees on it--an outline against the sky where a faint +aurora borealis lit the north. She understood that Louis was +waiting there, and must necessarily see them approaching across the +untrodden snow. For an instant she lingered, and Barlasch turning, +glanced at her sharply over his shoulder. She had come against her +will, and her companion knew it. Her feet were heavy with +misgiving, like the feet of one who treads an uncertain road into a +strange country. She had been afraid of Louis d'Arragon when she +first caught sight of him in the Frauengasse. The fear of him was +with her now, and would not depart until he himself swept it away by +the first word he spoke. + +He came out from beneath the trees, made a few steps forward, and +then stopped. Again Desiree lingered, and Barlasch, who was +naturally impatient, turned and took her by the arm. + +"Is it the snow--that you find slippery?" he asked, not requiring an +answer. A moment later Louis came forward. + +"There is nothing but bad news," he said laconically. "Barlasch +will have told you; but there is no need to give up hope. The army +has reached the Niemen; the rearguard has quitted Vilna. There is +nothing for it but to go and look for him." + +"Who will go?" she asked quietly. + +"I." + +He was looking at her with grave eyes trained to darkness. But she +looked past him towards the sky, which was faintly lighted by the +aurora. Her averted eyes and rigid attitude were not without some +suggestion of guilt. + +"My ship is ice-bound at Reval," said D'Arragon, in a matter-of-fact +way. "They have no use for me until the winter is over, and they +have given me three months' leave." + +"To go to England?" she asked. + +"To go anywhere I like," he said, with a short laugh. "So I am +going to look for Charles, and Barlasch will come with me." + +"At a price," put in that soldier, in a shrewd undertone. "At a +price." + +"A small one," corrected Louis, turning to look at him with the +close attention of one exploring a new country. + +"Bah! You give what you can. One does not go back across the +Niemen for pleasure. We bargained, and we came to terms. I got as +much as I could." + +Louis laughed, as if this were the blunt truth. + +"If I had more, I would give you more. It is the money I placed in +a Dantzig bank for my cousin. I must take it out again, that is +all." + +The last words were addressed to Desiree, as if he had acted in +assurance of her approval. + +"But I have more," she said; "a little--not very much. We must not +think of money. We must do everything to find him--to give him +help, if he needs it." + +"Yes," answered Louis, as if she had asked him a question. "We must +do everything; but I have no more money." + +"And I have none with me. I have nothing that I can sell." + +She withdrew her fur mitten and held out her hand, as if to show +that she had no rings, except the plain gold one on her third +finger. + +"You have the ikon I brought you from Moscow," said Barlasch +gruffly. "Sell that." + +"No," answered Desiree; "I will not sell that." + +Barlasch laughed cynically. + +"There you have a woman," he said, turning to Louis. "First she +will not have a thing, then she will not part with it." + +"Well," said Desiree, with some spirit, "a woman may know her own +mind." + +"Some do," admitted Barlasch carelessly; "the happy ones. And since +you will not sell your ikon, I must go for what Monsieur le +capitaine offers me. + +"Five hundred francs," said Louis. "A thousand francs, if we +succeed in bringing my cousin safely back to Dantzig." + +"It is agreed," said Barlasch, and Desiree looked from one to the +other with an odd smile of amusement. For women do not understand +that spirit of adventure which makes the mercenary soldier, and +urges the sailor to join an exploring expedition without hope of any +reward beyond his daily pay, for which he is content to work and die +loyally. + +"And I," she asked, "what am I to do?" + +"We must know where to find you," replied D'Arragon. + +There was so much in the simple answer that Desiree fell into a +train of thought. It did not seem much for her to do, and yet it +was all. For it summed up in six words a woman's life: to wait +till she is found. + +"I shall wait in Dantzig," she said at length. + +Barlasch held up his finger close to her face so that she could not +fail to see it, and shook it slowly from side to side commanding her +careful and entire attention. + +"And buy salt," he said. "Fill a cupboard full of salt. It is +cheap enough in Dantzig now. The patron will not think of it. He +is a dreamer. But a dreamer awakes at length, and is hungry. It is +I who tell you--Barlasch." + +He emphasized himself with a touch of his curved fingers on either +shoulder. + +"Buy salt," he said, and walked away to a rising knoll to make sure +that no one was approaching. The moon was just below the horizon, +and a yellow glow was already in the sky. + +Desiree and Louis were left alone. He was looking at her, but she +was watching Barlasch with a still persistency. + +"He said that it is the happy women who know their own minds," she +said slowly. + +"I suppose he meant--Duty," she added at length, when Louis made no +sign of answering. + +"Yes," he said. + +Barlasch was beckoning to her. She moved away, but stopped a few +yards off, and looked at Louis again. + +"Do you think it is any good trying?" she asked, with a short laugh. + +"It is no good trying unless you mean to succeed," he answered +lightly. She laughed a second time and lingered, though Barlasch +was calling her to come. + +"Oh," she said, "I am not afraid of you when you say things like +that. It is what you leave unsaid. I am afraid of you, I think, +because you expect so much." + +She tried to see his face. + +"I am only an ordinary human being, you know," she said warningly. + +Then she followed Barlasch. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. MISSING. + + + + I should fear those that dance before me now + Would one day stamp upon me; it has been done: + Men shut their doors against a setting sun. + +During the first weeks of December the biting wind abated for a +time, and immediately the snow came. It fell for days, until at +length the grey sky seemed exhausted; for the flakes sailed +downwards in twos and threes like the stragglers of an army bringing +up the rear. Then the sun broke through again, and all the world +was a dazzling white. + +There had been a cessation in that stream of pitiable men who +staggered across the bridge from the Konigsberg road. Some instinct +had turned it southwards. Now it began again, and the rumour spread +throughout the city that Rapp was coming. At length, in the middle +of December, an officer brought word that Rapp with his staff would +arrive next day. + +Desiree heard the news without comment. + +"You do not believe it?" asked Mathilde, who had come in with +shining eyes and a pale face. + +"Oh yes, I believe it." + +"Then you forget," persisted Mathilde, "that Charles is on the +staff. They may arrive to-night." + +While they were speaking Sebastian came in. He looked quickly from +one to the other. + +"You have heard the news?" he asked. + +"That the General is coming back?" said Mathilde. + +"No; not that. Though it is true. Macdonald is in full retreat on +Dantzig. The Prussians have abandoned him--at last." + +He gave a queer laugh and stood looking towards the window with +restless eyes that flitted from one object to another, as if he were +endeavouring to follow in mind the quick course of events. Then he +remembered Desiree and turned towards her. + +"Rapp returns to-morrow," he said. "We may presume that Charles is +with him." + +"Yes," said Desiree, in a lifeless voice. + +Sebastian wrinkled his eyes and gave an apologetic laugh. + +"We cannot offer him a fitting welcome," he said, with a gesture of +frustrated hospitality. "We must do what we can. You and he may, +of course, consider this your home as long as it pleases you to +remain with us. Mathilde, you will see that we have such delicacies +in the house as Dantzig can now afford--and you, Desiree, will of +course make such preparations as are necessary. It is well to +remember, he may return . . . to-night." + +Desiree went towards the door while Mathilde laid aside the delicate +needlework which seemed to absorb her mind and employ her fingers +from morning till night. She made a movement as if to accompany her +sister, but Desiree shook her head sharply and Mathilde remained +where she was, leaving Desiree to go upstairs alone. + +The day was already drawing to its long twilight, and at four +o'clock the night came. Sebastian went out as usual, though he had +caught cold. But Mathilde stayed at home. Desiree sent Lisa to the +shops in the Langenmarkt, which is the centre of business and gossip +in Dantzig. Lisa always brought home the latest news. Mathilde +came to the kitchen to seek something when the messenger returned. +She heard Lisa tell Desiree that a few more stragglers had come in, +but they brought no news of the General. The house seemed lonely +now that Barlasch was gone. + +Throughout the night the sound of sleigh-bells could be faintly +heard through the double windows, though no sleigh passed through +the Frauengasse. A hundred times the bells seemed to come closer, +and always Desiree was ready behind the curtains to see the light +flash past into the Pfaffengasse. With a shiver of suspense she +crept back to bed to await the next alarm. In the early morning, +long before it was light, the dull thud of steps on the trodden snow +called her to the window again. She caught her breath as she drew +back the curtain; for through the long watches of the night she had +imagined every possible form of return. + +This must be Barlasch. Louis and Barlasch must, of course, have met +Rapp on his homeward journey. On finding Charles, they had sent +Barlasch back in advance to announce the safety of Desiree's +husband. Louis would, of course, not come to Dantzig. He would go +north to Russia, to Reval, and perhaps home to England--never to +return. + +But it was not Barlasch. It was a woman who staggered past under a +burden of firewood which she had collected in the woods of +Schottland, and did not dare to carry through the streets by day. + +At last the clocks struck six, and, soon after, Lisa's heavy +footstep made the stairs creak and crack. + +Desiree went downstairs before daylight. She could hear Mathilde +astir in her room, and the light of candles was visible under her +door. Desiree busied herself with household affairs. + +"I have not slept," said Lisa bluntly, "for thinking that your +husband might return, and fearing that we should make him wait in +the street. But without doubt you would have heard him." + +"Yes, I should have heard him." + +"If it had been my husband, I should have been at the window all +night," said Lisa, with a gay laugh--and Desiree laughed too. + +Mathilde seemed a long time in coming, and when at length she +appeared Desiree could scarcely repress a movement of surprise. +Mathilde was dressed, all in her best, as for a fete. + +At breakfast Lisa brought the news told to her at the door that the +Governor would re-enter the city in state with his staff at midday. +The citizens were invited to decorate their streets, and to gather +there to welcome the returning garrison. + +"And the citizens will accept the invitation," commented Sebastian, +with a curt laugh. "All the world has sneered at Russia since the +Empire existed--and yet it has to learn from Moscow what part a +citizen may play in war. These good Dantzigers will accept the +invitation." + +And he was right. For one reason or another the city did honour to +Rapp. Even the Poles must have known by now that France had made +tools of them. But as yet they could not realize that Napoleon had +fallen. There were doubtless many spies in the streets that cold +December day--one who listened for Napoleon; and another, peeping to +this side and that, for the King of Prussia. Sweden also would need +to know what Dantzig thought, and Russia must not be ignorant of the +gossip in a great Baltic port. + +Enveloped in their stiff sheepskins, concealed by the high collars +which reached to the brim of their hats--showing nothing but eyes +where the rime made old faces and young all alike, it was difficult +for any to judge of his neighbour--whether he were Pole or Prussian, +Dantziger or Swede. The women in thick shawls, with hoods or +scarves concealing their faces, stood silently beside their +husbands. It was only the children who asked a thousand questions, +and got never an answer from the cautious descendants of a Hanseatic +people. + +"Is it the French or the Russians that are coming?" asked a child +near to Desiree. + +"Both," was the answer. + +"But which will come first?" + +"Wait and see--silentium," replied the careful Dantziger, looking +over his shoulder. + +Desiree had changed her clothes, and wore beneath her furs the dress +that had been prepared for the journey to Zoppot so long ago. +Mathilde had noticed the dress, which had not been seen for six +months. Lisa, more loquacious, nodded to it as to a friend when +helping Desiree with her furs. + +"You have changed," she said, "since you last wore it." + +"I have grown older--and fatter," answered Desiree cheerfully. + +And Lisa, who had no imagination, seemed satisfied with the +explanation. But the change was in Desiree's eyes. + +With Sebastian's permission--almost at his suggestion--they had +selected the Grune Brucke as the point from which to see the sight. +This bridge spans the Mottlau at the entrance to the Langenmarkt, +and the roadway widens before it narrows again to pass beneath the +Grunes Thor. There is rising ground where the road spreads like a +fan, and here they could see and be seen. + +"Let us hope," said Sebastian, "that two of these gentlemen may +perceive you as they pass." + +But he did not offer to accompany them. + +By half-past eleven the streets were full. The citizens knew their +governor, it seemed. He would not keep them waiting. Although Rapp +lacked that power of appealing to the imagination which has survived +Napoleon's death with such astounding vitality that it moves men's +minds to-day as surely as it did a hundred years ago, he was shrewd +enough to make use of his master's methods when such would seem to +serve his purpose. He was not going to creep into Dantzig like a +whipped dog into his kennel. + +He had procured a horse at Elbing. Between that town and the +Mottlau he had halted to form his army into something like order, to +get together a staff with which to surround himself. + +But the Dantzigers did not cheer. They stood and watched him in a +sullen silence as he rode across the bridge now known as the "Milk- +Can." His bridle was twisted round his arm, for all his fingers +were frostbitten. His nose and his ears were in the same plight, +and had been treated by a Polish barber who, indeed, effected a +cure. One eye was almost closed. His face was astonishingly red. +But he carried himself like a soldier, and faced the world with the +audacity that Napoleon taught to all his disciples. + +Behind him rode a few staff officers, but the majority were on foot. +Some effort had been made to revive the faded uniforms. One or two +heroic souls had cast aside the fur cloaks to which they owed their +life, but the majority were broken men without spirit, without +pride--appealing only to pity. They hugged themselves closely in +their ragged cloaks and stumbled as they walked. It was impossible +to distinguish between the officers and the men. The biggest and +the strongest were the best clad--the bullies were the best fed. +All were black and smoke-grimed--with eyes reddened and inflamed by +the dazzling snow through which they stumbled by day, as much as by +the smoke into which they crouched at night. Every garment was +riddled by the holes burnt by flying sparks--every face was smeared +with blood that ran from the horseflesh they had torn asunder with +their teeth while it yet smoked. + +Some laughed and waved their hands to the crowd. Others, who had +known the tragedy of Vilna and Kowno, stumbled on in stubborn +silence still doubting that Dantzig stood--that they were at last in +sight of food and warmth and rest. + +"Is that all?" men asked each other in astonishment. For the last +stragglers had crossed the new Mottlau before the head of the +procession had reached the Grune Brucke. + +"If I had such an army as that," said a stout Dantziger, "I should +bring it into the city quietly, after dusk." + +But the majority were silent, remembering the departure of these +men--the triumph, the glory, and the hope. For a great catastrophe +is a curtain that for a moment shuts out all history and makes the +human family little children again who can but cower and hold each +other's hands in the dark. + +"Where are the guns?" asked one. + +"And the baggage?" suggested another. + +"And the treasure of Moscow?" whispered a Jew with cunning eyes, who +had hidden behind his neighbour when Rapp glanced in his direction. + +Emerging on the bridge, the General glanced at the old Mottlau. A +crowd was collected on it. The citizens no longer used the bridges +but crossed without fear where they pleased, and heavy sleighs +passed up and down as on a high-road. Rapp saw it, made a grimace, +and, turning in his saddle, spoke to his neighbour, an engineer +officer, who was to make an immortal name and die in Dantzig. + +The Mottlau was one of the chief defences of the city, but instead +of a river the Governor found a high-road! + +Rapp alone seemed to look about him with the air of one who knew his +whereabouts. In the straggling trail of men behind him, not one in +a hundred looked for a friendly face. Some stared in front of them +with lifeless eyes, while others, with a little spirit plucked up at +the end of a weary march, glanced up at the gabled houses with the +interest called forth by the first sight of a new city. + +It was not until long afterwards that the world, piecing together +information purposely delayed and details carefully falsified, knew +that of the four hundred thousand men who marched triumphantly to +the Niemen, only twenty thousand recrossed that river six months +later, and of these two-thirds had never seen Moscow. + +Rapp, whose bloodshot eyes searched the crowd of faces turned +towards him, recognized a number of people. To Mathilde he bowed +gravely, and with a kindlier glance turned in his saddle to bow +again to Desiree. They hardly heeded him, but with colourless faces +turned towards the staff riding behind him. + +Most of the faces were strange: others were so altered that the +features had to be sought for as in the face of a mummy. Neither +Charles nor de Casimir was among the horsemen. One or two of them +bowed, as their leader had done, to the two girls. + +"That is Captain de Villars," said Mathilde, "and the other I do not +know. Nor that tall man who is bowing now. Who are they?" + +Desiree did not answer. None of these men was Charles. +Unconsciously holding her two mittened hands at her throat, she +searched each face. + +They were well placed to see even those who followed on foot. Many +of them were not French. It would have been easy to distinguish +Charles or de Casimir among the dark-visaged southerners. Desiree +was not conscious of the crowd around her. She heard none of the +muttered remarks. All her soul was in her eyes. + +"Is that all?" she said at length--as the others had said at the +entrance to the town. + +She found she was standing hand-in-hand with Mathilde, whose face +was like marble. + +At last, when even the crowd had passed away beneath the Grunes +Thor, they turned and walked home in silence. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. KOWNO. + + + + Distinct with footprints yet + Of many a mighty marcher gone that way. + +There are many who overlook the fact that in Northern lands, more +especially in such plains as Lithuania, Courland, and Poland, travel +in winter is easier than at any other time of year. The rivers, +which run sluggishly in their ditch-like beds, are frozen so +completely that the bridges are no longer required. The roads, in +summer almost impassable--mere ruts across the plain--are for the +time ignored, and the traveller strikes a bee-line from place to +place across a level of frozen snow. + +Louis d'Arragon had worked out a route across the plain, as he had +been taught to shape a course across a chart. + +"How did you return from Kowno?" he asked Barlasch. + +"Name of my own nose," replied that traveller. "I followed the line +of dead horses." + +"Then I will take you by another route," replied the sailor. + +And three days later--before General Rapp had made his entry into +Dantzig--Barlasch sold two skeletons of horses and a sleigh at an +enormous profit to a staff officer of Murat's at Gumbinnen. + +They had passed through Rapp's army. They had halted at Konigsberg +to make inquiry, and now, almost in sight of the Niemen, where the +land begins to heave in great waves, like those that roll round Cape +Horn, they were asking still if any man had seen Charles Darragon. + +"Where are you going, comrades?" a hundred men had paused to ask +them. + +"To seek a brother," answered Barlasch, who, like many unprincipled +persons, had soon found that a lie is much simpler than an +explanation. + +But the majority glanced at them stupidly without comment, or with +only a shrug of their bowed shoulders. They were going the wrong +way. They must be mad. Between Dantzig and Konigsberg they had +indeed found a few travellers going eastward--despatch-bearers +seeking Murat--spies going northwards to Tilsit, and General Yorck +still in treaty with his own conscience--a prominent member of the +Tugendbund, wondering, like many others, if there were any virtue +left in the world. Others, again, told them that they were officers +ordered to take up some new command in the retreating army. + +Beyond Konigsberg, however, D'Arragon and Barlasch found themselves +alone on their eastward route. Every man's face was set towards the +west. This was not an army at all, but an endless procession of +tramps. Without food or shelter, with no baggage but what they +could carry on their backs, they journeyed as each of us must +journey out of this world into that which lies beyond--alone, with +no comrade to help them over the rough places or lift them when they +fell. For there was only one man of all this rabble who rose to the +height of self-sacrifice, and a persistent devotion to duty. And he +was coming last of all. + +Many had started off in couples--with a faithful friend--only to +quarrel at last. For it is a peculiarity of the French that they +can only have one friend at a time. Long ago--back beyond the +Niemen--all friendships had been dissolved, and discipline had +vanished before that. For when Discipline and a Republic are wedded +we shall have the millennium. Liberty, they cry: meaning, I may do +as I like. Equality: I am better than you. Fraternity: what is +yours is mine, if I want it. + +So they quarrelled over everything, and fought for a place round the +fire that another had lighted. They burnt the houses in which they +had passed a night, though they knew that thousands trudging behind +them must die for lack of this poor shelter. + +At the Beresina they had fought on the bridge like wild animals, and +those who had horses trod their comrades underfoot, or pushed them +over the parapet. Twelve thousand perished on the banks or in the +river; and sixteen thousand were left behind to the mercy of the +Cossacks. + +At Vilna the people were terrified at the sight of this inhuman +rabble, which had commanded their admiration on the outward march. +And the commander, with his staff, crept out of the city at night, +abandoning sick, wounded, and fighting men. + +At Kowno they crowded numbly across the bridge, fighting for +precedence, when they might have walked at leisure across the ice. +They were no longer men at all, but dumb and driven animals, who +fell by the roadside, and were stripped by their comrades before the +warmth of life had left their limbs. + +"Excuse me, comrade? I thought you were dead," said one, on being +remonstrated with by a dying man. And he went on his way +reluctantly, for he knew that in a few minutes another would snatch +the booty. But for the most part they were not so scrupulous. + +At first D'Arragon, to whom these horrors were new, attempted to +help such as appealed to him, but Barlasch laughed at him. + +"Yes," he said. "Take the medallion, and promise to send it to his +mother. Holy Heaven--they all have medallions, and they all have +mothers. Every Frenchman remembers his mother--when it is too late. +I will get a cart. By to-morrow we shall fill it with keepsakes. +And here is another. He is hungry. So am I, comrade. I come from +Moscow--bah!" + +And so they fought their way through the stream. They could have +journeyed by a quicker route--D'Arragon could have steered a course +across the frozen plain as over a sea--but Charles must necessarily +be in this stream. He might be by the wayside. Any one of these +pitiable objects, half blind, frost-bitten, with one limb or another +swinging useless, like a snapped branch, wrapped to the eyes in +filthy furs--inhuman, horrible--any one of these might be Desiree's +husband. + +They never missed a chance of hearing news. Barlasch interrupted +the last message of a dying man to inquire whether he had ever heard +of Prince Eugene. It was startling to learn how little they knew. +The majority of them were quite ignorant of French, and had scarcely +heard the name of the commander of their division. Many spoke in a +language which even Barlasch could not identify. + +"His talk is like a coffee-mill," he explained to D'Arragon, "and I +do not know to what regiment he belonged. He asked me if I was +Russki--I! Then he wanted to hold my hand. And he went to sleep. +He will wake among the angels--that parishioner." + +Not only had no one heard of Charles Darragon, but few knew the name +of the commander to whose staff he had been attached in Moscow. +There was nothing for it but to go on towards Kowno, where it was +understood temporary head-quarters had been established. + +Rapp himself had told D'Arragon that officers had been despatched to +Kowno to form a base--a sort of rock in the midst of a torrent to +divert the currents. There had then been a talk of Tilsit, and +diverting the stream, or part of it towards Macdonald in the north. +But D'Arragon knew that Macdonald was likely to be in no better +plight than Murat; for it was an open secret in Dantzig that Yorck, +with four-fifths of Macdonald's army, was about to abandon him. + +The road to Kowno was not to be mistaken. On either side of it, +like fallen landmarks, the dead lay huddled on the snow. Sometimes +D'Arragon and Barlasch found the remains of a fire, where, amid the +ashes, the chains and rings showed that a gun-carriage had been +burnt. The trees were cut and scored where, as a forlorn hope, some +poor imbecile had stripped the bark with the thought that it might +burn. Nearly every fire had its grim guardian; for the wounds of +the injured nearly always mortified when the flesh was melted by the +warmth. Once or twice, with their ragged feet in the ashes, a whole +company had never awakened from their sleep. + +Barlasch pessimistically went the round of these bivouacs, but +rarely found anything worth carrying away. If he recognized a +veteran by the grizzled hair straggling out of the rags in which all +faces were enveloped, or perceived some remnant of a Garde uniform, +he searched more carefully. + +"There may be salt," he said. And sometimes he found a little. +They had been on foot since Gumbinnen, because no horse would be +allowed by starving men to live a day. They existed from day to day +on what they found, which was, at the best, frozen horse. But +Barlasch ate singularly little. + +"One thinks of one's digestion," he said vaguely, and persuaded +D'Arragon to eat his portion because it would be a sin to throw it +away. + +At length D'Arragon, who was quick enough in understanding rough +men, said-- + +"No, I don't want any more. I will throw it away." + +And an hour later, while pretending to be asleep, he saw Barlasch +get up, and crawl cautiously into the trees where the unsavoury food +had been thrown. + +"Provided," muttered Barlasch one day, "that you keep your health. +I am an old man. I could not do this alone." + +Which was true, for D'Arragon was carrying all the baggage now. + +"We must both keep our health," answered Louis. "I have eaten worse +things than horse." + +"I saw one yesterday," said Barlasch, with a gesture of disgust; "he +had three stripes on his arm, too; he was crouching in a ditch +eating something much worse than horse, mon capitaine. Bah! It +made me sick. For three sous I would have put my heel on his face. +And later on at the roadside I saw where he or another had played +the butcher. But you saw none of these things, mon capitaine?" + +"It was by that winding stream where a farm had been burnt," said +Louis. + +Barlasch glanced at him sideways. + +"If we should come to that, mon capitaine . . . . " + +"We won't." + +They trudged on in silence for some time. They were off the road +now, and D'Arragon was steering by dead-reckoning. Even amid the +pine-woods, which seemed interminable, they frequently found remains +of an encampment. As often as not they found the campers huddled +over their last bivouac. + +"But these," said Barlasch, pointing to what looked like a few +bundles of old clothes, continuing the conversation where he had +left it after a long silence, as men learn to do who are together +day and night in some hard enterprise, "even these have a woman +dinning the ears of the good God for them, just as we have." + +For Barlasch's conception of a Deity could not get further than the +picture of a great Commander who in times of stress had no leisure +to see that non-commissioned officers did their best for the rank +and file. Indeed, the poor in all lands rather naturally conclude +that God will think of carriage-people first. + +They came within sight of Kowno one evening, after a tiring day over +snow that glittered in a cloudless sun. Barlasch sat down wearily +against a pine tree, when they first caught sight of a distant +church-tower. The country is much broken up into little valleys +here, through which streams find their way to the Niemen. Each +river necessitated a rapid descent and an arduous climb over +slippery snow. + +"Voila," said Barlasch. "That is Kowno. I am done. Go on, mon +capitaine. I will lie here, and if I am not dead to-morrow morning, +I will join you." + +Louis looked at him with a slow smile. + +"I am tired as you," he said. "We will rest here until the moon +rises." + +Already the bare larches threw shadows three times their own length +on the snow. Near at hand it glittered like a carpet of diamonds, +while the distance was of a pale blue, merging to grey on the +horizon. A far-off belt of pines against a sky absolutely cloudless +suggested infinite space--immeasurable distance. Nothing was sharp +and clearly outlined, but hazy, silvery, as seen through a thin +veil. The sea would seem to be our earthly picture of infinite +space, but no sea speaks of distance so clearly as the plain of +Lithuania--absolutely flat, quite lonely. The far-off belt of pines +only leads the eye to a shadow beyond, which is another pine-wood; +and the traveller walking all day towards it knows that when at +length he gets there he will see just such another on the far +horizon. + +Louis sat down wearily beside Barlasch. As far as eye could see, +they were alone in this grim white world. They had nothing to say +to each other. They sat and watched the sun go down with drawn eyes +and a queer stolidity which comes to men in great cold, as if their +souls were numb. + +As the sun sank, the shadows turned bluer, and all the snow gleamed +like a lake. The silver tints slowly turned to gold; the greys grew +darker. The distant lines of pines were almost black now, a +silhouette against the golden sky. Near at hand the little +inequalities in the snow loomed blue, like deeper pools in shallow +water. + +The sun sank very slowly, moving along the horizon almost parallel +with it towards two bars of golden cloud awaiting it, the bars of +the West forming a prison to this poor pale captive of the snows. +The stems of a few silver-birch near at hand were rosy now, and +suddenly the snow took a similar tint. At the same moment, a wave +of cold seemed to sweep across the world. + +The sun went down at length, leaving a brownish-red sky. This, too, +faded to grey in a few minutes, and a steely cold gripped the world +as in a vice. + +Louis d'Arragon made a sudden effort and rose to his feet, beneath +which the snow squeaked. + +"Come," he said. "If we stay, we shall fall asleep, and then--" + +Barlasch roused himself and looked sleepily at his companion. He +had a patch of blue on either cheek. + +"Come!" shouted Louis, as if to a deaf man. "Let us go on to Kowno, +and find out whether he is alive or dead." + + + +CHAPTER XX. DESIREE'S CHOICE. + + + + Our wills and fates do so contrary run, + That our devices still are overthrown. + Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. + +Rapp found himself in a stronghold which was strong in theory only. +For the frozen river formed the easiest possible approach, instead +of an insuperable barrier to the enemy. He had an army which was a +paper army only. + +He had, according to official returns, thirty-five thousand men. In +reality a bare eight thousand could be collected to show a face to +the enemy. The rest were sick and wounded. There was no national +spirit among these men; they hardly had a language in common. For +they were men from Africa and Italy, from France, Germany, Poland, +Spain, and Holland. The majority of them were recruits, raw and of +poor physique. All were fugitives, flying before those dread +Cossacks whose "hurrah! hurrah!"--the Arabic "kill! kill!"--haunted +their fitful sleep at night. They came to Dantzig not to fight, but +to lie down and rest. They were the last of the great army--the +reinforcements dragged to the frontier which many of them had never +crossed. For those who had been to Moscow were few and far between. +The army of Moscow had perished at Malo-Jaroslavetz, at the +Beresina, in Smolensk and Vilna. + +These fugitives had fled to Dantzig for safety; and Rapp in crossing +the bridge had made a grimace, for he saw that there was no safety +here. + +The fortifications had been merely sketched out. The ditches were +full of snow, the rivers were frozen. All work was at a standstill. +Dantzig lay at the mercy of the first-comer. + +In twenty-four hours every available smith was at work, forging ice- +axes and picks. Rapp was going to cut the frozen Vistula and set +the river free. The Dantzigers laughed aloud. + +"It will freeze again in a night," they said. And it did. So Rapp +set the ice-cutters to work again next day. He kept boats moving +day and night in the water, which ran sluggish and thick, like +porridge, with the desire to freeze and be still. + +He ordered the engineers to set to work on the abandoned +fortifications. But the ground was hard like granite, and the picks +sprang back in the worker's grip, jarring his bones, and making not +so much as a mark on the surface of the earth. + +Again the Dantzigers laughed. + +"It is frozen three feet down," they said. + +The thermometer marked between twenty and thirty degrees of frost +every night now. And it was only December--only the beginning of +the winter. The Russians were at the Niemen, daily coming nearer. +Dantzig was full of sick and wounded. The available troops were +worn out, frost-bitten, desperate. There were only a few doctors, +who were without medical stores; no meat, no vegetables, no spirits, +no forage. + +No wonder the Dantzigers laughed. Rapp, who had to rely on +Southerners to obey his orders--Italians, Africans, a few Frenchmen, +men little used to cold and the hardships of a Northern winter--Rapp +let them laugh. He was a medium-sized man, with a bullet-head and a +round chubby face, a small nose, round eyes, and, if you please, +side-whiskers. + +Never for a moment did he admit that things looked black. He lit +enormous bonfires, melted the frozen earth, and built the +fortifications that had been planned. + +"I took counsel," he said, long afterwards, "with two engineer +officers whose devotion equalled their brilliancy--Colonel Richemont +and General Campredon." + +Soldiers might for all time study with advantage the acts of such +obscure and almost forgotten men as these. For, through them, +Napoleon was now teaching the world that a fortified place might be +made stronger than any had hitherto suspected. That he should turn +round and teach, on the other hand, that a city usually considered +impregnable could be taken without great loss of life, was only +characteristic of his splendid genius, which, like a towering tree, +grew and grew until it fell. + +The days were very short now, and it was dark when the sappers-- +whose business it was to keep the ice moving in the river at that +spot where the Government building-yard abuts the river front to- +day--were roused from their meditations by a shout on the farther +bank. + +They pushed their clumsy boat through the ice, and soon perceived +against the snowy distance the outline of a man wrapped, swaddled, +disguised in the heaped-up clothing so familiar to Eastern Europe at +this time. The joke of seeing a grave artilleryman clad in a lady's +ermine cloak had long since lost its savour for those who dwelt near +the Moscow road. + +"Ah! comrade," said one of the boatmen, an Italian who spoke French +and had learnt his seamanship on the Mediterranean, by whose waters +he would never idle again. "Ah! you are from Moscow?" + +"And you, countryman?" replied the new-comer, with a non-committing +readiness, as he stumbled over the gunwale. + +"And you--an old man?" remarked the Italian, with the easy frankness +of Piedmont. + +By way of reply, the new-comer held out one hand roughly swathed in +cloth, and shook it from side to side slowly, taking exception to +such personal matters on a short acquaintance. + +"A week ago, when I quitted Dantzig on a mission to Kowno," he said, +with a careless air, "one could cross the Vistula anywhere. I have +been walking on the bank for half a league looking for a way across. +One would think there is a General in Dantzig now." + +"There is Rapp," replied the Italian, poling his boat through the +floating ice. + +"He will be glad to see me." + +The Italian turned and looked over his shoulder. Then he gave a +curt, derisive laugh. + +"Barlasch--of the Old Guard!" explained the new-comer, with a +careless air. + +"Never heard of him." + +Barlasch pushed up the bandage which he still wore over his left +eye, in order to get a better sight of this phenomenal ignoramus, +but he made no comment. + +On landing he nodded curtly, at which the boatman made a quick +gesture and spat. + +"You have not the price of a glass in your purse, perhaps," he +suggested. + +Barlasch disappeared in the darkness without deigning a reply. Half +an hour later he was on the steps of Sebastian's house in the +Frauengasse. On his way through the streets a hundred evidences of +energy had caught his attention, for many of the houses were +barricaded, and palisades were built at the end of the streets +running down towards the river. The town was busy, and everywhere +soldiers passed to and fro. Like Samuel, Barlasch heard the +bleating of sheep and the lowing of oxen in his ears. + +The houses in the Frauengasse were barricaded like others--many of +the lower windows were built up. The door of No. 36 was bolted, and +through the shutters of the upper windows no glimmer of light +penetrated to the outer darkness of the street. Barlasch knocked +and waited. He thought he could hear surreptitious movements within +the house. Again he knocked. + +"Who is that?" asked Lisa just within, on the mat. She must have +been there all the time. + +"Barlasch," he replied. And the bolts which he, in his knowledge of +such matters, himself had oiled, were quickly drawn. + +Inside he found Lisa, and behind her Mathilde and Desiree. + +"Where is the patron?" he asked, turning to bolt the door again. + +"He is out, in the town," answered Desiree, in a strained voice. +"Where are you from?" + +"From Kowno." + +Barlasch looked from one face to the other. His own was burnt red, +and the light of the lamp hanging over his head gleamed on the +icicles suspended to his eyebrows and ragged whiskers. In the +warmth of the house his frozen garments began to melt, and from his +limbs the water dripped to the floor with a sound like rain. Then +he caught sight of Desiree's face. + +"He is alive, I tell you that," he said abruptly. "And well, so far +as we know. It was at Kowno that we got news of him. I have a +letter." + +He opened his cloak, which was stiff like cardboard and creaked when +he bent the rough cloth. Under his cloak he wore a Russian +peasant's sheepskin coat, and beneath that the remains of his +uniform. + +"A dog's country," he muttered, as he breathed on his fingers. + +At last he found the letter, and gave it to Desiree. + +"You will have to make your choice," he commented, with a grimace +indicative of a serious situation, "like any other woman. No doubt +you will choose wrong." + +Desiree went up two steps in order to be nearer the lamp, and they +all watched her as she opened the letter. + +"Is it from Charles?" asked Mathilde, speaking for the first time. + +"No," answered Desiree, rather breathlessly. + +Barlasch nudged Lisa, indicated his own mouth, and pushed her +towards the kitchen. He nodded cunningly to Mathilde, as if to say +that they were now free to discuss family affairs; and added, with a +gesture towards his inner man-- + +"Since last night--nothing." + +In a few minutes Desiree, having read the letter twice, handed it to +her sister. It was characteristically short. + +"We have found a man here," wrote Louis d'Arragon, "who travelled as +far as Vilna with Charles. There they parted. Charles, who was +ordered to Warsaw on staff work, told his friend that you were in +Dantzig, and that, foreseeing a siege of the city, he had written to +you to join him at Warsaw. This letter has doubtless been lost. I +am following Charles to Warsaw, tracing him step by step, and if he +has fallen ill by the way, as so many have done, shall certainly +find him. Barlasch returns to bring you to Thorn, if you elect to +join Charles. I will await you at Thorn, and if Charles has +proceeded, we will follow him to Warsaw." + +Barlasch, who had watched Desiree, now followed Mathilde's eyes as +they passed to and fro over the closely written lines. As she +neared the end, and her face, upon which deep shadows had been +graven by sorrow and suspense, grew drawn and hopeless, he gave a +curt laugh. + +"There were two," he said, "travelling together--the Colonel de +Casimir and the husband of--of la petite. They had facilities--name +of God!--two carriages and an escort. In the carriages they had +some of the Emperor's playthings--holy pictures, the imperial loot-- +I know not what. Besides that, they had some of their own--not furs +and candlesticks such as we others carried on our backs, but gold +and jewellery enough to make a man rich all his life." + +"How do you know that?" asked Mathilde, a dull light in her eyes. + +"I--I know where it came from," replied Barlasch, with an odd smile. +"Allez! you may take it from me." And he muttered to himself in the +patois of the Cotes du Nord. + +"And they were safe and well at Vilna?" asked Mathilde. + +"Yes--and they had their treasure. They had good fortune, or else +they were more clever than other men; for they had the Imperial +treasure to escort, and could take any man's horse for the carriages +in which also they had placed their own treasure. It was Captain +Darragon who held the appointment, and the other--the Colonel--had +attached himself to him as volunteer. For it was at Vilna that the +last thread of discipline was broken, and every man did as he +wished." + +"They did not come to Kowno?" asked Mathilde, who had a clear mind, +and that grasp of a situation which more often falls to the lot of +the duller sex. + +"They did not come to Kowno. They would turn south at Vilna. It +was as well. At Kowno the soldiers had broken into the magazines-- +the brandy was poured out in the streets. The men were lying there, +the drunken and the dead all confused together on the snow. But +there would be no confusion the next morning; for all would be +dead." + +"Was it at Kowno that you left Monsieur d'Arragon?" asked Desiree, +in a sharp voice. + +"No--no. We quitted Kowno together, and parted on the heights above +the town. He would not trust me--monsieur le marquis--he was afraid +that I should get at the brandy. And he was right. I only wanted +the opportunity. He is a strong one--that!" And Barlasch held up a +warning hand, as if to make known to all and sundry that it would be +inadvisable to trifle with Louis d'Arragon. + +He drew the icicles one by one from his whiskers with a wry face +indicative of great agony, and threw them down on the mat. + +"Well," he said, after a pause, to Desiree, "have you made your +choice?" + +Desiree was reading the letter again, and before she could answer, a +quick knock on the front door startled them all. Barlasch's face +broke into that broad smile which was only called forth by the +presence of danger. + +"Is it the patron?" he asked in a whisper, with his hand on the +heavy bolts affixed by that pious Hanseatic merchant who held that +if God be in the house there is no need of watchmen. + +"Yes," answered Mathilde. "Open quickly." + +Sebastian came in with a light step. He was like a man long saddled +with a burden of which he had at length been relieved. + +"Ah! What news?" he asked, when he recognised Barlasch. + +"Nothing that you do not know already, monsieur," replied Barlasch, +"except that the husband of Mademoiselle is well and on the road to +Warsaw. Here--read that." + +And he took the letter from Desiree's hand. + +"I knew he would come back safely," said Desiree; and that was all. + +Sebastian read the letter in one quick glance--and then fell to +thinking. + +"It is time to quit Dantzig," said Barlasch quietly, as if he had +divined the old man's thoughts. "I know Rapp. There will be +trouble--here, on the Vistula." + +But Sebastian dismissed the suggestion with a curt shake of the +head. + +Barlasch's attention had been somewhat withdrawn by a smell of +cooking meat, to which he opened his nostrils frankly and noisily +after the manner of a dog. + +"Then it remains," he said, looking towards the kitchen, "for +Mademoiselle to make her choice." + +"There is no choice," replied Desiree, "I shall be ready to go with +you--when you have eaten." + +"Good," said Barlasch, and the word applied as well to Lisa, who was +beckoning to him. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. ON THE WARSAW ROAD. + + + + Oft expectation fails, and most oft there + Where it most promises; and oft it hits + Where hope is coldest and despair most sits. + +Love, it is said, is blind. But hatred is as bad. In Antoine +Sebastian hatred of Napoleon had not only blinded eyes far-seeing +enough in earlier days, but it had killed many natural affections. +Love, too, may easily die--from a surfeit or a famine. Hatred never +dies; it only sleeps. + +Sebastian's hatred was all awake now. It was aroused by the +disasters that had befallen Napoleon; of which disasters the Russian +campaign was only one small part. For he who stands above all his +compeers must expect them to fall upon him should he stumble. +Napoleon had fallen, and a hundred foes who had hitherto nursed +their hatred in a hopeless silence were alert to strike a blow +should he descend within their reach. + +When whole empires had striven in vain to strike, how could a mere +association of obscure men hope to record its blow? The Tugendbund +had begun humbly enough; and Napoleon, with that unerring foresight +which raised him above all other men, had struck at its base. For +an association in which kings and cobblers stand side by side on an +equal footing must necessarily be dangerous to its foes. + +Sebastian was not carried off his feet by the great events of the +last six months. They only rendered him steadier. For he had +waited a lifetime. It is only a sudden success that dazzles. Long +waiting nearly always ensures a wise possession. + +Sebastian, like all men absorbed in a great thought, was neglectful +of his social and domestic obligations. Has it not been shown that +he allowed Mathilde and Desiree to support him by giving dancing +lessons? But he was not the ordinary domestic tyrant who is +familiar to all--the dignified father of a family who must have the +best of everything, whose teaching to his offspring takes the form +of an unconscious and solemn warning. He did not ask the best; he +hardly noticed what was offered to him; and it was not owing to his +demand, but to that feminine spirit of self-sacrifice which has +ruined so many men, that he fared better than his daughters. + +If he thought about it at all, he probably concluded that Mathilde +and Desiree were quite content to give their time and thought to the +support of himself--not as their father, but as the motive power of +the Tugendbund in Prussia. Many greater men have made the same +mistake, and quite small men with a great name make it every day, +thinking complacently that it is a privilege to some woman to +minister to their wants while they produce their immortal pictures +or deathless books; whereas, the woman would tend him as carefully +were he a crossing-sweeper, and is only following the dictates of an +instinct which is loftier than his highest thought and more +admirable than his most astounding work of art. + +Barlasch had not lived so long in the Frauengasse without learning +the domestic economy of Sebastian's household. He knew that +Desiree, like many persons with kind blue eyes, shaped her own +course through life, and abided by the result with a steadfastness +not usually attributed to the light-hearted. He concluded that he +must make ready to take the road again before midnight. He +therefore gave a careful and businesslike attention to the simple +meal set before him by Lisa; and, looking up over his plate, he saw +for the second time in his life Sebastian hurrying into his own +kitchen. + +Barlasch half rose, and then, in obedience to a gesture from +Sebastian, or remembering perhaps the sturdy Republicanism which he +had not learnt until middle-age, he sat down again, fork in hand. + +"You are prepared to accompany Madame Darragon to Thorn?" inquired +Sebastian, inviting his guest by a gesture to make himself at home-- +scarcely a necessary thought in the present instance. + +"Yes." + +"And how do you propose to make the journey?" + +This was so unlike Sebastian's usual method, so far from his lax +comprehension of a father's duty, that Barlasch paused and looked at +him with suspicion. With the back of his hand he pushed up the +unkempt hair which obscured his eyes. This unusual display of +parental anxiety required looking into. + +"From what I could see in the streets," he answered, "the General +will not stand in the way of women and useless mouths who wish to +quit Dantzig." + +"That is possible; but he will not go so far as to provide horses." + +Barlasch gave his companion a quick glance, and returned to his +supper, eating with an exaggerated nonchalance, as if he were alone. + +"Will you provide them?" he asked abruptly, at length, without +looking up. + +"I can get them for you, and can ensure you relays by the way." + +Barlasch cut a piece of meat very carefully, and, opening his mouth +wide, looked at Sebastian over the orifice. + +"On one condition," pursued Sebastian quietly; "that you deliver a +letter for me in Thorn. I make no pretence; if it is found on you, +you will be shot." + +Barlasch smiled pleasantly. + +"The risks are very great," said Sebastian, tapping his snuff-box +reflectively. + +"I am not an officer to talk of my honour," answered Barlasch, with +a laugh. "And as for risk"--he paused and put half a potato into +his mouth--"it is Mademoiselle I serve," concluded this uncouth +knight with a curt simplicity. + +So they set out at ten o'clock that night in a light sleigh on high +runners, such as may be seen on any winter day in Poland down to the +present time. The horses were as good as any in Dantzig at this +date, when a horse was more costly than his master. The moon, +sailing high overhead through fleecy clouds, found it no hard task +to light a world all snow and ice. The streets of Dantzig were +astir with life and the rumble of waggons. At first there were +difficulties, and Barlasch explained airily that he was not so +accomplished a whip in the streets as in the open country. + +"But never fear," he added. "We shall get there, soon enough." + +At the city gates there was, as Barlasch had predicted, no objection +made to the departure of a young girl and an old man. Others were +quitting Dantzig by the same gate, on foot, in sleighs and carts; +but all turned westward at the cross-roads and joined the stream of +refugees hurrying forward to Germany. Barlasch and Desiree were +alone on the wide road that runs southward across the plain towards +Dirschau. The air was very cold and still. On the snow, hard and +dry like white dust, the runners of the sleigh sang a song on one +note, only varied from time to time by a drop of several octaves as +they passed over a culvert or some hollow in the road, after which +the high note, like the sound of escaping steam, again held sway. +The horses fell into a long steady trot, their feet beating the +ground with a regular, sleep-inducing thud. They were harnessed +well forward to a very long pole, and covered the ground with free +strides, unhampered by any thought of their heels. The snow +pattered against the cloth stretched like a wind-sail from their +flanks to the rising front of the sleigh. + +Barlasch sat upright, a thick motionless figure, four-square to the +cutting wind. He drove with one hand at a time, sitting on the +other to restore circulation between whiles. It was impossible to +distinguish the form of his garments, for he was wrapped round in a +woollen shawl like a mummy, showing only his eyes beneath the ragged +fur of a sheepskin cap upon which the rime caused by the warmth of +the horses and his own breath had frozen like a coating of frosted +silver. + +Desiree was huddled down beside him, with her head bent forward so +as to protect her face from the wind, which seared like a hot iron. +She wore a hood of white fur lined with a darker fur, and when she +lifted her face only her eyes, bright and wakeful, were visible. + +"If you are warm, you may go to sleep," said Barlasch in a mumbling +voice, for his face was drawn tight and his lips stiffened by the +cold. "But if you shiver, you must stay awake." + +But Desiree seemed to have no wish for sleep. Whenever Barlasch +leant forward to peer beneath her hood she looked round at him with +wakeful eyes. Whenever, to see if she were still awake, he gave her +an unceremonious nudge, she nudged back again instantly. As the +night wore on, she grew more wakeful. When they halted at a wayside +inn, which must have been minutely described to Barlasch by +Sebastian, and Desiree accepted the innkeeper's offer of a cup of +coffee by the fire while fresh horses were being put into harness, +she was wide awake and looked at Barlasch with a reckless laugh as +he shook the rime from his eyebrows. In response he frowningly +scrutinized as much of her face as he could see, and shook his head +disapprovingly. + +"You laugh when there is nothing to laugh at," he said grimly. +"Foolish. It makes people wonder what is in your mind." + +"There is nothing in my mind," she answered gaily. + +"Then there is something in your heart, and that is worse!" said +Barlasch, which made Desiree look at him doubtfully. + +They had done forty miles with the same horses, and were nearly +halfway. For some hours the road had followed the course of the +Vistula on the high tableland above the river, and would so continue +until they reached Thorn. + +"You must sleep," said Barlasch curtly, when they were once more on +the road. She sat silent beside him for an hour. The horses were +fresh, and covered the ground at a great pace. Barlasch was no +driver, but he was skilful with the horses, and husbanded their +strength at every hill. + +"If we go on like this, when shall we arrive?" asked Desiree +suddenly. + +"By eight o'clock, if all goes well." + +"And we shall find Monsieur Louis d'Arragon awaiting us at Thorn?" + +Barlasch shrugged his shoulders doubtfully. + +"He said he would be there," he muttered, and, turning in his seat, +he looked down at her with some contempt. + +"That is like a woman," he said. "They think all men are fools +except one, and that one is only to be compared with the bon Dieu." + +Desiree could not have heard the remark, for she made no answer and +sat silent, leaning more and more heavily against her companion. He +changed the reins to his other hand, and drove with it for an hour +after all feeling had left it. Desiree was asleep. She was still +sleeping when, in the dim light of a late dawn, Barlasch saw the +distant tower of Thorn Cathedral. + +They were no longer alone on the road now, but passed a number of +heavy market-sleighs bringing produce and wood to the town. +Barlasch had been in Thorn before. Desiree was still sleeping when +he turned the horses into the crowded yard of the "Drei Kronen." +The sleighs and carriages were packed side by side as in a +warehouse, but the stables were empty. No eager host came out to +meet the travellers. The innkeepers of Thorn had long ceased to +give themselves that trouble. For the city was on the direct route +of the retreat, and few who got so far had any money left. + +Slowly and painfully Barlasch unwound himself and disentangled his +legs. He tried first one and then the other, as if uncertain +whether he could walk. Then he staggered numbly across the yard to +the door of the inn. + +A few minutes later Desiree woke up. She was in a room warmed by a +great white stove and dimly lighted by candles. Some one was +pulling off her gloves and feeling her hands to make sure that they +were not frost-bitten. She looked sleepily at a white coffee-pot +standing on the table near the candles; then her eyes, still +uncomprehending, rested on the face of the man who was loosening her +hood, which was hard with rime and ice. He had his back to the +candles, and was half-hidden by the collar of his fur coat, which +met the cap pressed down over his ears. + +He turned towards the table to lay aside her gloves, and the light +fell on his face. Desiree was wideawake in an instant, and Louis +d'Arragon, hearing her move, turned anxiously to look at her again. +Neither spoke for a minute. Barlasch was holding his numbed hand +against the stove, and was grinding his teeth and muttering at the +pain of the restored circulation. + +Desiree shook the icicles from her hood, and they rattled like hail +on the bare floor. Her hair, all tumbled round her face, caught the +light of the candles. Her eyes were bright and the colour was in +her cheeks. D'Arragon glanced at her with a sudden look of relief, +and then turned to Barlasch. He took the numbed hand and felt it; +then he held a candle close to it. Two of the fingers were quite +white, and Barlasch made a grimace when he saw them. D'Arragon +began rubbing at once, taking no notice of his companion's moans and +complaints. + +Without desisting, he looked over his shoulder towards Desiree, but +not actually at her face. + +"I heard last night," he said, "that the two carriages are standing +in an inn-yard three leagues beyond this on the Warsaw road. I have +traced them step by step from Kowno. My informant tells me that the +escort has deserted, and that the officer in charge, Colonel +Darragon, was going on alone, with the two drivers, when he was +taken ill. He is nearly well again, and hopes to continue his +journey to-morrow or the next day." + +Desiree nodded her head to signify that she had heard and +understood. Barlasch gave a cry of pain, and withdrew his hand with +a jerk. + +"Enough, enough!" he said. "You hurt me. The life is returning +now; a drop of brandy perhaps--" + +"There is no brandy in Thorn," said D'Arragon, turning towards the +table. "There is only coffee." + +He busied himself with the cups, and did not look at Desiree when he +spoke again. + +"I have secured two horses," he said, "to enable you to proceed at +once, if you are able to. But if you would rather rest here to-day- +-" + +"Let us go on at once," interrupted Desiree hastily. + +Barlasch, crouching against the stove, glanced from one to the other +beneath his heavy brows, wondering, perhaps, why they avoided +looking at each other. + +"You will wait here," said D'Arragon, turning towards him, "until-- +until I return." + +"Yes," was the answer. "I will lie on the floor here and sleep. I +have had enough. I--" + +Louis left the room to give the necessary orders. When he returned +in a few minutes, Barlasch was asleep on the floor, and Desiree had +tied on her hood again, which concealed her face. He drank a cup of +coffee and ate some dry bread absent-mindedly, in silence. + +The sound of bells, feebly heard through the double windows, told +them that the horses were being harnessed. + +"Are you ready?" asked D'Arragon, who had not sat down; and in +response, Desiree, standing near the stove, went towards the door, +which he held open for her to pass out. As she passed him, she +glanced at his face, and winced. + +In the sleigh she looked up at him as if expecting him to speak. He +was looking straight in front of him. There was, after all, nothing +to be said. She could see his steady eyes between his high collar +and the fur cap. They were hard and unflinching. The road was +level now, and the snow beaten to a gleaming track like ice. +D'Arragon put the horses to a gallop at the town gate, and kept them +at it. + +In half an hour he turned towards her and pointed with his whip to a +roof half hidden by some thin pines. + +"That is the inn," he said. + +In the inn yard he indicated with his whip two travelling-carriages +standing side by side. + +"Colonel Darragon is here?" he said to the cringing Jew who came to +meet them; and the innkeeper led the way upstairs. The house was a +miserable one, evil-smelling, sordid. The Jew pointed to a door, +and, cringing again, left them. + +Desiree made a gesture telling Louis to go in first, which he did at +once. The room was littered with trunks and cases. All the +treasure had been brought into the sick man's chamber for greater +safety. + +On a narrow bed near the window a man lay huddled on his side. He +turned and looked over his shoulder, showing a haggard face with a +ten-days' beard on it. He looked from one to the other in silence. + +It was Colonel de Casimir. + + + +CHAPTER XXII. THROUGH THE SHOALS. + + + + I see my way, as birds their trackless way. + +De Casimir had never seen Louis d'Arragon, and yet some dim +resemblance to his cousin must have introduced the new-comer to a +conscience not quite easy. + +"You seek me, Monsieur," he asked, not having recognized Desiree, +who stood behind her companion, in her furs. + +"I seek Colonel Darragon, and was told that we should find him in +this room." + +"May I ask why you seek him in this rather unceremonious manner?" +asked De Casimir, with the ready insolence of his calling and his +age. + +"Because I am his cousin," replied Louis quietly, "and Madame is his +wife." + +Desiree came forward, her face colourless. She caught her breath, +but made no attempt to speak. + +De Casimir tried to lift himself on his elbows. + +"Ah! madame," he said. "You see me in a sorry state. I have been +very ill." And he made a gesture with one hand, begging her to +overlook his unkempt appearance and the disorder of his room. + +"Where is Charles?" asked Desiree curtly. She had suddenly realized +how intensely she had always disliked De Casimir, and distrusted +him. + +"Has he not returned to Dantzig?" was the ready answer. "He should +have been there a week ago. We parted at Vilna. He was exhausted-- +a mere question of over-fatigue--and at his request I left him there +to recover and to pursue his way to Dantzig, where he knew you would +be awaiting him." + +He paused and looked from one to the other with quick and furtive +eyes. He felt himself easily a match for them in quickness of +perception, in rapid thought, in glib speech. Both were dumb--he +could not guess why. But there was a steadiness in D'Arragon's eyes +which rarely goes with dulness of wit. This was a man who could be +quick at will--a man to be reckoned with. + +"You are wondering why I travel under your cousin's name, Monsieur," +said De Casimir, with a friendly smile. + +"Yes," returned Louis, without returning the smile. + +"It is simple enough," explained the sick man. "At Vilna we found +all discipline relaxed. There were no longer any regiments. There +was no longer staff. There was no longer an army. Every man did as +he thought best. Many, as you know, elected to await the Russians +at Vilna, rather than attempt to journey farther. Your cousin had +been given the command of the escort which has now filtered away, +like every other corps. He was to conduct back to Paris two +carriages laden with imperial treasure and certain papers of value. +Charles did not want to go back to Paris. He wished most naturally +to return to Dantzig. I, on the other hand, desired to go to +France; and there place my sword once more at the Emperor's service. +What more simple than to change places?" + +"And names," suggested D'Arragon, without falling into De Casimir's +easy and friendly manner. + +"For greater security in passing through Poland and across the +frontier," explained De Casimir readily. "Once in France--and I +hope to be there in a week--I shall report the matter to the Emperor +as it really happened: namely, that, owing to Colonel Darragon's +illness, he transferred his task to me at Vilna. The Emperor will +be indifferent, so long as the order has been carried out." + +De Casimir turned to Desiree as likely to be more responsive than +this dark-eyed stranger, who listened with so disconcerting a lack +of comment or sympathy. + +"So you see, madame," he said, "Charles will still get the credit +for having carried out his most difficult task, and no harm is +done." + +"When did you leave Charles at Vilna?" asked she. + +De Casimir lay back on the pillow in an attitude which betrayed his +weakness and exhaustion. He looked at the ceiling with lustreless +eyes. + +"It must have been a fortnight ago," he said at length. "I was +trying to count the days. We have lost all account of dates since +quitting Moscow. One day has been like another--and all, terrible. +Believe me, madame, it has always been in my mind that you were +awaiting the return of your husband at Dantzig. I spared him all I +could. A dozen times we saved each other's lives." + +In six words Desiree could have told him all she knew: that he was +a spy who had betrayed to death and exile many Dantzigers whose +hospitality had been extended to him as a Polish officer; that +Charles was a traitor who had gained access to her father's house in +order to watch him--though he had honestly fallen in love with her. +He was in love with her still, and he was her husband. It was this +thought that broke into her sleep at night, that haunted her waking +hours. + +She glanced at Louis d'Arragon, and held her peace. + +"Then, Monsieur," he said, "you have every reason to suppose that if +Madame returns to Dantzig now, she will find her husband there?" + +De Casimir looked at D'Arragon, and hesitated for an instant. They +both remembered afterwards that moment of uncertainty. + +"I have every reason to suppose it," replied De Casimir at length, +speaking in a low voice, as if fearful of being overheard. + +Louis waited a moment, and glanced at Desiree, who, however, had +evidently nothing more to say. + +"Then we will not trouble you farther," he said, going towards the +door, which he held open for Desiree to pass out. He was following +her when De Casimir called him back. + +"Monsieur," cried the sick man, "Monsieur, one moment, if you can +spare it." + +Louis came back. They looked at each other in silence while they +heard Desiree descend the stairs and speak in German to the +innkeeper who had been waiting there. + +"I will be quite frank with you," said De Casimir, in that voice of +confidential friendliness which so rarely failed in its effect. +"You know that Madame Darragon has an elder sister, Mademoiselle +Mathilde Sebastian?" + +"Yes." + +De Casimir raised himself on his elbows again, with an effort, and +gave a short, half shamefaced laugh which was quite genuine. It was +odd that Mathilde and he, who had walked most circumspectly, should +both have been tripped up, as it were, by love. + +"Bah!" he said, with a gesture dismissing the subject, "I cannot +tell you more. It is a woman's secret, Monsieur, not mine. Will +you deliver a letter for me in Dantzig, that is all I ask?" + +"I will give it to Madame Darragon to give to Mademoiselle Mathilde, +if you like; I am not returning to Dantzig," replied Louis. But de +Casimir shook his head. + +"I am afraid that will not do," he said doubtfully. "Between +sisters, you understand--" + +And he was no doubt right; this man of quick perception. Is it not +from our nearest relative that our dearest secret is usually +withheld? + +"You cannot find another messenger?" asked De Casimir, and the +anxiety in his face was genuine enough. + +"I can--if you wish it." + +"Ah, Monsieur, I shall not forget it! I shall never forget it," +said the sick man quickly and eagerly. "The letter is there, +beneath that sabretasche. It is sealed and addressed." + +Louis found the letter, and went towards the door, as he placed it +in his pocket. + +"Monsieur," said De Casimir, stopping him again. "Your name, if I +may ask it, so that I may remember a countryman who has done me so +great a service." + +"I am not a countryman; I am an Englishman," replied Louis. "My +name is Louis d'Arragon." + +"Ah! I know. Charles has told me, Monsieur le--" + +But D'Arragon heard no more, for he closed the door behind him. + +He found Desiree awaiting him in the entrance hall of the inn, where +a fire of pine-logs burnt in an open chimney. The walls and low +ceiling were black with smoke, the little windows were covered with +ice an inch thick. It was twilight in this quiet room, and would +have been dark but for the leaping flames of the fire. + +"You will go back to Dantzig," he asked, "at once?" + +He carefully avoided looking at her, though he need not have feared +that she would have allowed her eyes to meet his. And thus they +stood, looking downward to the fire--alone in a world that heeded +them not, and would forget them in a week--and made their choice of +a life. + +"Yes," she answered. + +He stood thinking for a moment. He was quite practical and matter- +of-fact; and had the air of a man of action rather than of one who +deals in thoughts, and twists them hither and thither so that good +is made to look ridiculous, and bad is tricked out with a fine new +name. He frowned as he looked at the fire with eyes that flitted +from one object to another, as men's eyes do who think of action and +not of thought. This was the sailor--second to none in the shallow +northern sea, where all marks had been removed, and every light +extinguished--accustomed to facing danger and avoiding it, to +foresee remote contingencies and provide against them, day and +night, week in, week out; a sailor, careful and intrepid. He had +the air of being capable of that concentration without which no man +can hope to steer a clear course at all. + +"The horses that brought you from Marienwerder will not be fit for +the road till to-morrow morning," he said. "I will take you back to +Thorn at once, and--leave you there with Barlasch." + +He glanced towards her, and she nodded, as if acknowledging the +sureness and steadiness of the hand at the helm. + +"You can start early to-morrow morning, and be in Dantzig to-morrow +night." + +They stood side by side in silence for some minutes. He was still +thinking of her journey--of the dangers and the difficulties of that +longer journey through life without landmark or light to guide her. + +"And you?" she asked curtly. + +He did not reply at once but busied himself with his ponderous fur +coat, which he buttoned, as if bracing himself for the start. +Beneath her lashes she looked sideways at the deliberate hands and +the lean strong face, burnt to a red-brown by sun and snow, half +hidden in the fur collar of his worn and weather-beaten coat. + +"Konigsberg," he answered, "and Riga." + +A light passed through her watching eyes, usually so kind and gay; +like the gleam of jealousy. + +"Your ship?" she asked sharply. + +"Yes," he answered, as the innkeeper came to tell them that their +sleigh awaited them. + +It was snowing now, and a whistling, fitful wind swept down the +valley of the Vistula from Poland and the far Carpathians which made +the travellers crouch low in the sleigh and rendered talk +impossible, had there been anything to say. But there was nothing. + +They found Barlasch asleep where they had left him in the inn at +Thorn, on the floor against the stove. He roused himself with the +quickness and completeness of one accustomed to brief and broken +rest, and stood up shaking himself in his clothes, like a dog with a +heavy coat. He took no notice of D'Arragon, but looked at Desiree +with questioning eyes. + +"It was not the Captain?" he asked. + +And Desiree shook her head. Louis was standing near the door giving +orders to the landlady of the inn--a kindly Pomeranian, clean and +slow--for Desiree's comfort till the next morning. + +Barlasch went close to Desiree, and, nudging her arm with +exaggerated cunning, whispered-- + +"Who was it?" + +"Colonel de Casimir." + +"With the two carriages and the treasure from Moscow?" asked +Barlasch, watching Louis out of the corner of one eye, to make sure +that he did not hear. It did not matter whether he heard or not, +but Barlasch came of a peasant stock that always speaks of money in +a whisper. And when Desiree nodded, he cut short the conversation. + +The hostess came forward to tell Desiree that her room was ready, +kindly suggesting that the "gnadiges Fraulein" must need sleep and +rest. Desiree knew that Louis would go on to Konigsberg at once. +She wondered whether she should ever see him again--long afterwards, +perhaps, when all this would seem like a dream. Barlasch, breathing +noisily on his frost-bitten fingers, was watching them. Desiree +shook hands with Louis in an odd silence, and, turning on her heel, +followed the woman out of the room without looking back. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. AGAINST THE STREAM. + + + + Wo viel Licht ist, ist starker Schatten. + +In the mean time the last of the Great Army had reached the Niemen, +that narrow winding river in its ditch-like bed sunk below the level +of the tableland, to which six months earlier the greatest captain +this world has ever seen rode alone, and, coming back to his +officers, said-- + +"Here we cross." + +Four hundred thousand men had crossed--a bare eighty thousand lived +to pass the bridge again. Twelve hundred cannons had been left +behind, nearly a thousand in the hands of the enemy, and the +remainder buried or thrown into those dull rivers whose slow waters +flow over them to this day. One hundred and twenty-five thousand +officers and men had been killed in battle, another hundred thousand +had perished by cold and disaster at the Beresina or other rivers +where panic seized the fugitives. + +Forty-eight generals had been captured by the Russians, three +thousand officers, one hundred and ninety thousand men, swallowed by +the silent white Empire of the North and no more seen. + +As the retreat neared Vilna the cold had increased, killing men as +the first cold of an English winter kills flies. And when the +French quitted Vilna, the Russians were glad enough to seek its +shelter, Kutusoff creeping in with forty thousand men, all that +remained to him of two hundred thousand. He could not carry on the +pursuit, but sent forward a handful of Cossacks to harry the hare- +brained few who called themselves the rearguard. He was an old man, +nearly worn out, with only three months more to live--but he had +done his work. + +Ney--the bravest of the brave--left alone in Russia at the last with +seven hundred foreign recruits, men picked from here and there, +called in from the highways and hedges to share the glory of the +only Marshal who came back from Moscow with a name untarnished--Ney +and Girard, musket in hand, were the last to cross the bridge, +shouting defiance at their Cossack foes, who, when they had hounded +the last of the French across the frontier, flung themselves down on +the bloodstained snow to rest. + +All along the banks of the Vistula, from Konigsberg and Dantzig up +to Warsaw--that slow river which at the last call shall assuredly +give up more dead than any other--the fugitives straggled homewards. +For the Russians paused at their own frontier, and Prussia was still +nominally the friend of France. She had still to wear the mask for +three long months when she should at last openly side with Russia, +only to be beaten again by Napoleon. + +Murat was at Konigsberg with the Imperial staff, left in supreme +command by the Emperor, and already thinking of his own sunny +kingdom of the Mediterranean, and the ease and the glory of it. In +a few weeks he, too, must tarnish his name. + +"I make over the command to you," he said to Prince Eugene; and +Napoleon's step-son made an answer which shows, as Eugene showed +again and again, that contact with a great man makes for greatness. + +"You cannot make it over to me," he replied. "Only the Emperor can +do that. You can run away in the night, and the supreme command +will devolve on me the next morning." + +And what Murat did is no doubt known to the learned reader. + +Macdonald, abandoned by Yorck with the Prussian contingent, in great +peril, alone in the north, was retreating with the remains of the +Tenth Army Corps, wondering whether Konigsberg or Dantzig would +still be French when he reached them. On his heels was +Wittgenstein, in touch with St. Petersburg and the Emperor +Alexander, communicating with Kutusoff at Vilna. And Macdonald, +like the Scotchman and the Frenchman that he was, turned at a +critical moment and rent Wittgenstein. Here was another bulldog in +that panic-stricken pack, who turned and snarled and fought while +his companions slunk homewards with their tails between their legs. +There were three of such breed--Ney and Macdonald, and Prince Eugene +de Beauharnais. + +Napoleon was in Paris, getting together in wild haste the new army +with which he was yet to frighten Europe into fits. And Rapp, +doggedly fortifying his frozen city, knew that he was to hold +Dantzig at any cost--a remote, far-thrown outpost on the Northern +sea, cut off from all help, hundreds of miles from the French +frontier, nearly a thousand miles from Paris. + +At Marienwerder, Barlasch and Desiree found themselves in the midst +of that bustle and confusion which attends the arrival or departure +of an army corps. The majority of the men were young and of a dark +skin. They seemed gay, and called out salutations to which Barlasch +replied curtly enough. + +"They are Italians," said he to his companion; "I know their talk +and their manners. To you and me, who come from the North, they are +like children. See that one who is dancing. It is some fete. What +is to-day?" + +"It is New Year's Day," replied Desiree. + +"New Year's Day," echoed Barlasch. "Good. And we have been on the +road since six o'clock; and I, who have forgotten to wish you--" He +paused and called cheerily to the horses, which had covered more +than forty miles since leaving their stable at Thorn. "Bon Dieu!" +he said in a lower tone, glancing at her beneath the ice-bound rim +of his fur cap, "Bon Dieu--what am I to wish you, I wonder?" + +Desiree did not answer, but smiled a little and looked straight in +front of her. + +Barlasch made a movement of the shoulders and eyebrows indicative of +a hidden anger. + +"We are friends," he asked suddenly, "you and I?" + +"Yes." + +"We have been friends since--that day--when you were married?" + +"Yes," answered Desiree. + +"Then between friends," said Barlasch, gruffly; "it is not necessary +to smile--like that--when it is tears that are there." + +Desiree laughed. + +"Would you have me weep?" she asked. + +"It would hurt one less," said Barlasch, attending to his horses. +They were in the town now, and the narrow streets were crowded. +Many sick and wounded were dragging themselves wearily along. A few +carts, drawn by starving horses, went slowly down the hill. But +there was some semblance of order, and thus men had the air and +carriage of soldiers under discipline. Barlasch was quick to see +it. + +"It is the Fourth Corps. The Viceroy's army. They have done well. +He is a soldier, who commands them. Ah! There is one I know." + +He threw the reins to Desiree, and in a moment he was out on the +snow. A man, as old, it would seem, as himself, in uniform and +carrying a musket, was marching past with a few men who seemed to be +under his orders, though his uniform was long past recognition. He +did not perceive, for some minutes, that Barlasch was coming towards +him, and then the process of recognition was slow. Finally, he laid +aside his musket, and the two old men gravely kissed each other. + +Quite forgetful of Desiree, they stood talking together for twenty +minutes. Then they gravely embraced once more, and Barlasch +returned to the sleigh. He took the reins, and urged the horses up +the hill without commenting on his encounter, but Desiree could see +that he had heard news. + +The inn was outside the town, on the road that follows the Vistula +northwards to Dirschau and Dantzig. The horses were tired, and +stumbled on the powdery snow which was heavy, like sand, and of a +sandy colour. Here and there, by the side of the road, were great +stains of blood and the remains of a horse that had been killed, and +eaten raw. The faces of many of the men were smeared with blood, +which had dried on their cheeks and caked there. Nearly all were +smoke-grimed and had sore eyes. + +At last Barlasch spoke, with the decisive air of one who has finally +drawn up a course of action in a difficult position. + +"He comes from my own country, that man. You heard us? We spoke +together in our patois. I shall not see him again. He has a +catarrh. When he coughs there is blood. Alas!" + +Desiree glanced at the rugged face half turned away from her. She +was not naturally heartless; but she quite forgot to sympathize with +the elderly soldier who had caught a cold on the retreat from +Moscow; for his friend's grief lacked conviction. Barlasch had +heard news which he had decided to keep to himself. + +"Has he come from Vilna?" asked Desiree. + +"From Vilna--oh yes. They are all from Vilna." + +"And he had no news"--persisted she, "of--Captain Darragon?" + +"News--oh no! He is a common soldier, and knows nothing of the +officers on the staff. We are the same--he and I--poor animals in +the ranks. A little gentleman rides up, all sabretasche and gold +lace. It is an officer of the staff. 'Go down into the valley and +get shot,' he says. And--bon jour! we go. No--no. He has no news, +my poor comrade." + +They were at the inn now, and found the huge yard still packed with +sleighs and disabled carriages, and the stables ostentatiously +empty. + +"Go in," said Barlasch; "and tell them who your father is--say +Antoine Sebastian and nothing else. I would do it myself, but when +it is so cold as that, the lips are stiff, and I cannot speak German +properly. They would find out that I am French, and it is no good +being French now. My comrade told me that in Konigsberg, Murat +himself was ill-received by the burgomaster and such city stuff as +that." + +It was as Barlasch foretold. For at the name of Antoine Sebastian +the innkeeper found horses--in another stable. + +It would take a few minutes, he said, to fetch them, and in the +meantime there were coffee and some roast meat--his own dinner. +Indeed, he could not do enough to testify his respect for Desiree, +and his commiseration for her, being forced to travel in such +weather through a country infested by starving brigands. + +Barlasch consented to come just within the inner door, but refused +to sit at the table with Desiree. He took a piece of bread, and ate +it standing. + +"See you," he said to her when they were left alone, "the good God +has made very few mistakes, but there is one thing I would have +altered. If He intended us for such a rough life, He should have +made the human frame capable of going longer without food. To a +poor soldier marching from Moscow to have to stop every three hours +and gnaw a piece of horse that has died--and raw--it is not +amusing." + +He watched Desiree with a grudging eye. For she was young, and had +eaten nothing for six freezing hours. + +"And for us," he added; "what a waste of time!" + +Desiree rose at once with a laugh. + +"You want to go," she said. "Come, I am ready." + +"Yes," he admitted, "I want to go. I am afraid--name of a dog! I +am afraid, I tell you. For I have heard the Cossacks cry, 'Hurrah! +Hurrah!' And they are coming." + +"Ah!" said Desiree, "that is what your friend told you." + +"That, and other things." + +He was pulling on his gloves as he spoke, and turned quickly on his +heel when the innkeeper entered the room, as if he had expected one +of those dread Cossacks of Toula who were half savage. But the +innkeeper carried nothing more lethal in his hand than a yellow mug +of beer, which he offered to Barlasch. And the old soldier only +shook his head. + +"There is poison in it," he muttered. "He knows I am a Frenchman." + +"Come," said Desiree, with her gay laugh, "I will show you that +there is no poison in it." + +She took the mug and drank, and handed the measure to Barlasch. It +was a poor thin beer, and Barlasch was not one to hide his opinion +from the host, to whom he made a reproving grimace when he returned +the empty mug. But the effect upon him was nevertheless good, for +he took the reins again with a renewed energy, and called to the +horses gaily enough. + +"Allons," he said; "we shall reach Dantzig safely by nightfall, and +there we shall find your husband awaiting us, and laughing at us for +our foolish journey." + +But being an old man, the beer could not warm his heart for long, +and he soon lapsed again into melancholy and silence. Nevertheless, +they reached Dantzig by nightfall, and although it was a bitter +twilight--colder than the night itself--the streets were full. Men +stood in groups and talked. In the brief time required to journey +to Thorn something had happened. Something happened every day in +Dantzig; for when history wakes from her slumber and moves, it is +with a heavy and restless tread. + +"What is it?" asked Barlasch of the sentry at the town gate, while +they waited for their passports to be returned to them. + +"It is a proclamation from the Emperor of Russia--no one knows how +it has got here." + +"And what does he proclaim--that citizen?" + +"He bids the Dantzigers rise and turn us out," answered the soldier, +with a grim laugh. + +"Is that all?" + +"No, comrade, that is not all," was the answer in a graver voice. + +"He proclaims that every Pole who submits now will be forgiven and +set at liberty; the past, he says, will be committed to an eternal +oblivion and a profound silence--those are his words." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes, and half the defenders of Dantzig are Poles--there are your +passports--pass on." + +They drove through the dark streets where men like shadows hurried +silently about their business. + +The Frauengasse seemed to be deserted when they reached it. It was +Mathilde who opened the door. She must have been at the darkened +window, behind the curtain. Lisa had gone home to her native +village in Sammland in obedience to the Governor's orders. +Sebastian had not been home all day. Charles had not returned, and +there was no news of him. + +Barlasch, wiping the snow from his face, watched Desiree, and made +no comment. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. MATHILDE CHOOSES. + + + + But strong is fate, O Love, + Who makes, who mars, who ends. + +Desiree was telling Mathilde the brief news of her futile journey, +when a knock at the front door made them turn from the stairs where +they were standing. It was Sebastian's knock. His hours had been +less regular of late. He came and went without explanation. + +When he had freed his throat from his furs, and laid aside his +gloves, he glanced hastily at Desiree, who had kissed him without +speaking. + +"And your husband?" he asked curtly. + +"It was not he whom we found at Thorn," she answered. There was +something in her father's voice--in his quick, sidelong glance at +her--that caught her attention. He had changed lately. From a man +of dreams he had been transformed into a man of action. It is +customary to designate a man of action as a hard man. Custom is the +brick wall against which feeble minds come to a standstill and +hinder the progress of the world. Sebastian had been softened by +action, through which his mental energy had found an outlet. But +to-night he was his old self again--hard, scornful, +incomprehensible. + +"I have heard nothing of him," said Desiree. + +Sebastian was stamping the snow from his boots. + +"But I have," he said, without looking up. + +Desiree said nothing. She knew that the secret she had guarded so +carefully--the secret kept by herself and Louis--was hers no longer. +In the silence of the next moments she could hear Barlasch breathing +on his fingers, within the kitchen doorway just behind her. +Mathilde made a little movement. She was on the stairs, and she +moved nearer to the balustrade and held to it breathlessly. For +Charles Darragon's secret was De Casimir's too. + +"These two gentlemen," said Sebastian slowly, "were in the secret +service of Napoleon. They are hardly likely to return to Dantzig." + +"Why not?" asked Mathilde. + +"They dare not." + +"I think the Emperor will be able to protect his officers," said +Mathilde. + +"But not his spies," replied Sebastian coldly. + +"Since they wore his uniform, they cannot be blamed for doing their +duty. They are brave enough. They would hardly avoid returning to +Dantzig because--because they have outwitted the Tugendbund." + +Mathilde's face was colourless with anger, and her quiet eyes +flashed. She had been surprised into this sudden advocacy, and an +advocate who displays temper is always a dangerous ally. Sebastian +glanced at her sharply. She was usually so self-controlled that her +flashing eyes and quick breath betrayed her. + +"What do you know of the Tugendbund?" he asked. + +But she would not answer, merely shrugging her shoulders and closing +her thin lips with a snap. + +"It is not only in Dantzig," said Sebastian, "that they are unsafe. +It is anywhere where the Tugendbund can reach them." + +He turned sharply to Desiree. His wits, cleared by action, told him +that her silence meant that she, at all events, had not been +surprised. She had, therefore, known already the part played by De +Casimir and Charles, in Dantzig, before the war. + +"And you," he said, "you have nothing to say for your husband." + +"He may have been misled," she said mechanically, in the manner of +one making a prepared speech or meeting a foreseen emergency. It +had been foreseen by Louis d'Arragon. The speech had been, +unconsciously, prepared by him. + +"You mean, by Colonel de Casimir," suggested Mathilde, who had +recovered her usual quiet. And Desiree did not deny her meaning. +Sebastian looked from one to the other. It was the irony of Fate +that had married one of his daughters to Charles Darragon, and +affianced the other to De Casimir. His own secret, so well kept, +had turned in his hand like a concealed weapon. + +They were all startled by Barlasch, who spoke from the kitchen door, +where he had been standing unobserved or forgotten. He came forward +to the light of the lamp hanging overhead. + +"That reminds me . . . " he said a second time, and having secured +their attention, he instituted a search in the many pockets of his +nondescript clothing. He still wore a dirty handkerchief bound over +one eye. It served to release him from duty in the trenches or work +on the frozen fortifications. By this simple device, coupled with +half a dozen bandages in various parts of his person, where a frost- +bite or a wound gave excuse, he passed as one of the twenty-five +thousand sick and wounded who encumbered Dantzig at this time, and +were already dying at the rate of fifty a day. + +"A letter . . . " he said, still searching with his maimed hand. +"You mentioned the name of the Colonel de Casimir. It was that +which recalled to my mind . . . " He paused, and produced a letter +carefully sealed. He turned it over, glancing at the seals with a +reproving jerk of the head, which conveyed as clearly as words a +shameless confession that he had been frustrated by them . . . "this +letter. I was told to give it you, without fail, at the right +moment." + +It could hardly be the case that he honestly thought this moment +might be so described. But he gave the letter to Mathilde with a +gesture of grim triumph. Perhaps he was thinking of the cellar in +the Palace on the Petrovka at Moscow, and the treasure which he had +found there. + +"It is from the Colonel de Casimir," he said, "a clever man," he +added, turning confidentially to Sebastian, and holding his +attention by an upraised hand. "Oh! . . . a clever man." + +Mathilde, her face all flushed, tore open the envelope, while +Barlasch, breathing on his fingers, watched with twinkling eye and +busy lips. + +The letter was a long one. Colonel de Casimir was an adept at +explanation. There was, no doubt, much to explain. Mathilde read +the letter carefully. It was the first she had ever had--a love- +letter in its guise--with explanations in it. Love and explanation +in the same breath. Assuredly De Casimir was a daring lover. + +"He says that Dantzig will be taken by storm," she said at length, +"and that the Cossacks will spare no one." + +"Does it signify," inquired Sebastian in his smoothest voice, "what +Colonel de Casimir may say?" + +His grand manner had come back to him. He made a gesture with his +hand almost suggestive of a ruffle at the wrist, and clearly +insulting to Colonel de Casimir. + +"He urges us to quit the city before it is too late," continued +Mathilde, in her measured voice, and awaited her father's reply. He +took snuff with a cold smile. + +"You will not do so?" she asked. And by way of reply, Sebastian +laughed as he dusted the snuff from his coat with his pocket- +handkerchief. + +"He asks me to go to Cracow with the Grafin, and marry him," said +Mathilde finally. And Sebastian only shrugged his shoulders. The +suggestion was beneath contempt. + +"And . . . ?" he inquired with raised eyebrows. + +"I shall do it," replied Mathilde, defiance shining in her eyes. + +"At all events," commented Sebastian, who knew Mathilde's mind, and +met her coldness with indifference, "you will do it with your eyes +open, and not leap in the dark, as Desiree did. I was to blame +there; a man is always to blame if he is deceived. With you . . . +Bah! you know what the man is. But you do not know, unless he tells +you in that letter, that he is even a traitor in his treachery. He +has accepted the amnesty offered by the Czar; he has abandoned +Napoleon's cause; he has petitioned the Czar to allow him to retire +to Cracow, and there live on his estates." + +"He has no doubt good reasons for his action," said Mathilde. + +"Two carriages full," muttered Barlasch, who had withdrawn to the +dark corner near the kitchen door. But no one heeded him. + +"You must make your choice," said Sebastian, with the coldness of a +judge. "You are of age. Choose." + +"I have already chosen," answered Mathilde. "The Grafin leaves to- +morrow. I will go with her." + +She had, at all events, the courage of her own opinions--a courage +not rare in women, however valueless may be the judgment upon which +it is based. And in fairness it must be admitted that women usually +have the courage not only of the opinion, but of the consequence, +and meet it with a better grace than men can summon in misfortune. + +Sebastian dined alone and hastily. Mathilde was locked in her room, +and refused to open the door. Desiree cooked her father's dinner +while Barlasch made ready to depart on some vague errand in the +town. + +"There may be news," he said. "Who knows? And afterwards the +patron will go out, and it would not be wise for you to remain alone +in the house." + +"Why not?" + +Barlasch turned and looked at her thoughtfully over his shoulder. + +"In some of the big houses down in the Niederstadt there are forty +and fifty soldiers quartered--diseased, wounded, without discipline. +There are others coming. I have told them we have fever in the +house. It is the only way. We may keep them out; for the +Frauengasse is in the centre of the town, and the soldiers are not +needed in this quarter. But you--you cannot lie as I can. You +laugh--ah! A woman tells more lies; but a man tells them better. +Push the bolts, when I am gone." + +After his dinner, Sebastian went out, as Barlasch had predicted. He +said nothing to Desiree of Charles or of the future. There was +nothing to be said, perhaps. He did not ask why Mathilde was +absent. In the stillness of the house, he could probably hear her +moving in her rooms upstairs. + +He had not been long gone when Mathilde came down, dressed to go +out. She came into the kitchen where Desiree was doing the work of +the absent Lisa, who had reluctantly gone to her home on the Baltic +coast. Mathilde stood by the kitchen table and ate some bread. + +"The Grafin has arranged to quit Dantzig to-morrow," she said. "I +am going to ask her to take me with her." + +Desiree nodded and made no comment. Mathilde went to the door, but +paused there. Without looking round, she stood thinking deeply. +They had grown from childhood together--motherless--with a father +whom neither understood. Together they had faced the difficulties +of life; the hundred petty difficulties attending a woman's life in +a strange land, among neighbours who bear the sleepless grudge of +unsatisfied curiosity. They had worked together for their daily +bread. And now the full stream of life had swept them together from +the safe moorings of childhood. + +"Will you come too?" asked Mathilde. "All that he says about +Dantzig is true." + +"No, thank you," answered Desiree, gently enough. "I will wait +here. I must wait in Dantzig." + +"I cannot," said Mathilde, half excusing herself. "I must go. I +cannot help it. You understand?" + +"Yes," said Desiree, and nothing more. + +Had Mathilde asked her the question six months ago, she would have +said "No." But she understood now, not that Mathilde could love De +Casimir; that was beyond her individual comprehension, but that +there was no alternative now. + +Soon after Mathilde had gone, Barlasch returned. + +"If Mademoiselle Mathilde is going, she will have to go to-morrow," +he said. "Those that are coming in at the gates now are the +rearguard of the Heudelet Division which was driven out of Elbing by +the Cossacks three days ago." + +He sat mumbling to himself by the fire, and only turned to the +supper which Desiree had placed in readiness for him when she +quitted the room and went upstairs. It was he who opened the door +for Mathilde, who returned in half an hour. She thanked him absent- +mindedly and went upstairs. He could hear the sisters talking +together in a low voice in the drawing-room, which he had never +seen, at the top of the stairs. + +Then Desiree came down, and he helped her to find in a shed in the +yard one of those travelling-trunks which he had recognized as being +of French manufacture. He took off his boots, and carried it +upstairs for her. + +It was ten o'clock before Sebastian came in. He nodded his thanks +to Barlasch, and watched him bolt the door. He made no inquiry as +to Mathilde, but extinguished the lamp, and went to his room. He +never mentioned her name again. + +Early the next morning, the girls were astir. But Barlasch was +before them, and when Desiree came down, she found the kitchen fire +alight. Barlasch was cleaning a knife, and nodded a silent good +morning. Desiree's eyes were red, and Barlasch must have noted this +sign of grief, for he gave a contemptuous laugh, and continued his +occupation. + +It was barely daylight when the Grafin's heavy, old-fashioned +carriage drew up in front of the house. Mathilde came down, thickly +veiled and in her travelling furs. She did not seem to see +Barlasch, and omitted to thank him for carrying her travelling-trunk +to the carriage. + +He stood on the terrace beside Desiree until the carriage had turned +the corner into the Pfaffengasse. + +"Bah!" he said, "let her go. There is no stopping them, when they +are like that. It is the curse--of the Garden of Eden." + + + +CHAPTER XXV. A DESPATCH. + + + + In counsel it is good to see dangers; and in execution not to +see them unless they be very great. + +Mathilde had told Desiree that Colonel de Casimir made no mention of +Charles in his letter to her. Barlasch was able to supply but +little further information on the matter. + +"It was given to me by the Captain Louis d'Arragon at Thorn," he +said. "He handled it as if it were not too clean. And he had +nothing to say about it. You know his way, for the rest. He says +little; but he knows the look of things. It seemed that he had +promised to deliver the letter--for some reason, who knows what? and +he kept his promise. The man was not dying by any chance--that De +Casimir?" + +And his little sharp eyes, reddened by the smoke of camp-fires, +inflamed by the glare of sun on snow, searched her face. He was +thinking of the treasure. + +"Oh no!" + +"Was he ill at all?" + +"He was in bed," answered Desiree, doubtfully. + +Barlasch scratched his head without ceremony, and fell into a long +train of thought. + +"Do you know what I think?" he said at length. "I think that De +Casimir was not ill at all--any more than I am; I, Barlasch. Not so +ill, perhaps, as I am, for I have an indigestion. It is always +there at the summit of the stomach. It is horse without salt." + +He paused and rubbed his chest tenderly. + +"Never eat horse without salt," he put in parenthetically. + +"I hope never to eat it at all," answered Desiree. "What about +Colonel de Casimir?" + +He waved her aside as a babbler who broke in upon his thoughts. +These seemed to be lodged in his mouth, for, when reflecting, he +chewed and mumbled with his lips. + +"Listen," he said at length. "This is De Casimir. He goes to bed +and lets his beard grow--half an inch of beard will keep any man in +the hospital. You nod your head. Yes; I thought so. He knows that +the viceroy, with the last of the army, is at Thorn. He keeps +quiet. He waits in his roadside inn until the last of the army has +gone. He waits until the Russians come, and to them he hands over +the Emperor's possessions--all the papers, the maps, the despatches. +For that he will be rewarded by the Emperor Alexander, who has +already promised pardon to all Poles who have taken arms against +Russia and now submit. De Casimir will be allowed to retain his own +baggage. He has no loot taken at Moscow--oh no! Only his own +baggage. Ah--that man! See, I spit him out." + +And it is painful to record that he here resorted to graphic +illustration. + +"Ah!" he went on triumphantly, "I know. I can see right into the +mind of such a man. I will tell you why. It is because I am that +sort of man myself." + +"You do not seem to have been so successful--since you are poor," +said Desiree, with a laugh. + +He frowned at her apparently in speechless anger, seeking an answer. +But for the moment he could think of none, so he turned to the +knives again, which he was cleaning on a board on the kitchen-table. +At length he paused and glanced at Desiree. + +"And your husband," he said slowly. "Remember that he is a partner +with this De Casimir. They hunt together. I know it; for I was in +Moscow. Ah! that makes you stand stiffly, and push your chin out." + +He went on cleaning the knives, and, without looking at her, seemed +to be speaking his own thoughts aloud. + +"Yes! He is a traitor. And he is worse than the other; for he is +no Pole, but a Frenchman. And if he returns to France, the Emperor +will say: 'Where are my despatches, my maps, my papers, which were +given into your care?'" + +He finished the thought with three gestures, which seemed to +illustrate the placing of a man against a wall and shooting him. +His meaning could not be mistaken. + +"And that is what the patron means when he says that Monsieur +Charles Darragon will not return to Dantzig. I knew that he meant +that last night, when he was so angry--on the mat." + +"And why did you not tell me?" + +Barlasch looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, before replying +slowly and impressively. + +"Because, if I had told you, you might have decided to quit Dantzig +with Mademoiselle Mathilde, and go hunting your husband in a country +overrun by desperate fugitives and untamed Cossacks. And I did not +want that. I want you here--in Dantzig; in the Frauengasse; in this +kitchen; under my hand--so that I can take care of you till the war +is over. I--who speak to you--Papa Barlasch, at your service. And +there is not another man in the world who will do it so well. No; +not one." + +And his eyes flashed as he threw the knives into a drawer. + +"But why should you do all this for me?" asked Desiree. "You could +have gone home to France--quite easily--and have left us to our fate +here in Dantzig. Why did you not go home?" + +Barlasch looked at her with surprise, not unmixed with a sudden dumb +disappointment. He was preparing to go out according to his wont +immediately after breakfast; for Lisa had unconsciously hit the mark +when she compared him to a cat. He had the regular and self- +contained habits of that unobtrusive friend. He buttoned his rough +coat slowly, and looked round the kitchen with eyes dimly wistful. +He was very old and ragged and homeless. + +"Is it not enough," he said, "that we are friends?" + +He went towards the door, but came back and warned her by the +familiar upheld finger not to let her attention wander from his +words. + +"You will be glad yet that I have stayed. It is because I speak a +little plainly of your husband that you wish me gone. Bah! What +does it matter? All men are alike. We are only men--not angels. +And you can go on loving him all the same. You are not particular, +you women. You can love anything--even a man like that." + +And he went out muttering anathemas on the hearts of all women. + +"It seems," he said, "that a woman can love anything." + +Which is true; and a very good thing for some of us. For without +that Heaven-sent capacity the world could not go on at all. + +It was later in the day when Barlasch made his way into the low and +smoke-grimed Bier Halle of the Weissen Ross'l. He must have known +Sebastian's habits, for he went straight to that corner of the great +room where the violin-player usually sat. The stout waitress--a +country girl of no intelligence, smiled broadly at the sight of such +a ragged customer as she followed him down the length of the +sawdust-strewn floor. + +Sebastian's face showed no surprise when he looked up and recognized +the new-comer. The surrounding tables were empty. It was too early +in the evening for the regular customers, whose numbers, moreover, +had been sadly thinned during the last few months. For the peaceful +Dantzigers, remembering the siege of seven years ago, had mostly +fled at the first mention of the word. + +Sebastian nodded in answer to Barlasch's somewhat ceremonious bow, +and by a gesture invited him to be seated on the chair upon which he +had already laid his hand. The atmosphere of the room was warm, and +Barlasch laid aside his sheepskin coat, as he had seen the great and +the rich divest themselves of their sables. He turned sharply and +caught the waitress with an amused smile still on her face. He drew +her attention to a little pool of beer on the table, and stood until +she had made good this lapse in her duty. Then he pointed to +Sebastian's mug of beer and dismissed her giggling, to get one for +him of the same size and contents. + +Making sure that there was no one within earshot, he waited until +Sebastian's dreamy eye met his, and then said-- + +"It is time we understood each other." + +A light of surprise--passing and half-indifferent--flashed into +Sebastian's eyes and vanished again at once when he saw Barlasch had +meant nothing: made no sign or countersign with his hand. + +"By all means, my friend," he answered. + +"I delivered your letters," said Barlasch, "at Thorn and at the +other places." + +"I know; I have already had answers. You would be wise to forget +the incident." + +Barlasch shrugged his shoulders. + +"You were paid," said Sebastian, jumping to a natural conclusion. + +"A little," admitted Barlasch, "a small little--but it was not that. +I always get paid in advance, when I can. Except by the Emperor. +He owes me some--that citizen. It was another question. In the +house I am friends with all--with Lisa who has gone--with +Mademoiselle Mathilde who has gone--with Mademoiselle Desiree, so- +called Madame Darragon, who remains. With all except you. Why +should we not be friends?" + +"But we are friends--" protested Sebastian, with a bow. As if in +confirmation of the statement, he held out his beer-mug, and +Barlasch touched it with the rim of his own before drinking. +Sebastian's attitude, his bow, his manner of drinking, were those of +the Court; Barlasch was distinctly of the camp. But these were +strange days, and all society had been turned topsy-turvy by one +man. + +"Then," said Barlasch, licking his lips, "let us understand one +another. You say there will be no siege. I say you are wrong. You +think that the Dantzigers will rise in answer to the Emperor +Alexander's proclamations, and turn the French out. I say the +Dantzigers' stomachs are too big. I say that Rapp will hold +Dantzig, and that the Russians will not take it by storm, because +they are too weak. There will be a siege, and a long one. Are you +and Mademoiselle and I going to sit it out in the Frauengasse +together?" + +"We shall be honoured to have you as our guest," answered Sebastian, +with that levity which went before the Revolution, and was never +understood of the people. + +Barlasch did not understand it. He glanced doubtfully at his +companion, and sipped his beer. + +"Then I will begin to-night." + +"Begin what, my friend?" + +Barlasch waved aside all petty detail. + +"My preparations. I go out about ten o'clock--after you are in. I +will take the key of the front door, and let myself in when I come +back. I shall make two journeys. Under the kitchen floor is a +large hollow space. I fill that with bags of corn." + +"But where will you get the corn, my friend?" + +"I know where to get it--corn and other things. Salt I have +already--enough for a year. Other things I can get for three +months." + +"But we have no money to pay for them." + +"Bah!" + +"You mean you will steal them," suggested Sebastian, not without a +ring of contempt in his mincing voice. + +"A soldier never steals," answered Barlasch, carelessly announcing a +great truth. + +Sebastian laughed. It was obvious that his mind, absorbed in great +thought, heeded small things not at all. His companion pushed his +fur cap to the back of his head, and ruffled his hair forward. + +"That is not all," he said at length. He looked round the vast +room, which was almost deserted. The stout waitress was polishing +pewter mugs at the bar. "You say you have already had answers to +those letters. It is a great organization--your secret society-- +whatever it is called. It delivers letters all over Prussia--eh? +and Poland perhaps--or farther still." + +Sebastian shrugged one shoulder, and made no answer for some time. + +"I have already told you," he said impatiently, at length, "to +forget the incident; you were paid." + +By way of reply, the old soldier laboriously emptied his pockets, +searching the most remote of them for small copper coins. He +counted slowly and carefully until he had made up a thaler. + +"But it is not my turn to be paid this time. It is I who pay." + +He held out his hand with a pound weight of base metal in it, but +Sebastian refused the money with a sudden assumption of his cold and +scornful manner, oddly out of keeping with his humble surroundings. + +"As between friends--" suggested Barlasch, and, on receiving a more +decided negative, returned the coins to his pocket, not without +satisfaction. + +"I want your friends to pass on a letter for me--I am willing to +pay," he said in a whisper. "A letter to Captain Louis d'Arragon-- +it concerns the happiness of Mademoiselle Desiree. Do not shake +your head. Think before you refuse. The letter will be an open +one--six words or so--telling the Captain that his cousin, +Mademoiselle's husband, is not in Dantzig, and cannot now return +here since the last of the rearguard entered the city this morning." + +Sebastian seemed to be considering the matter, and Barlasch was +quick to combat possible objections. + +"The Captain went to Konigsberg. He is there now. Your friends can +easily find him, and give him the letter. It is of great importance +to Mademoiselle. The Captain is not looking for Monsieur Charles +Darragon, because he thinks that he is here in Dantzig. Colonel de +Casimir assured him that Mademoiselle would find him here. Where is +he--that Monsieur Charles--I wonder? It is of great importance to +Mademoiselle. The Captain would perhaps continue his search." + +"Where is your letter?" asked Sebastian. + +By way of reply, Barlasch laid on the table a sheet of paper. + +"You must write it," he said. "My hand is injured. I write not +badly, you understand. But this evening I do not feel that my hand +is well enough." + +So, with the sticky, thick ink of the Weissen Ross'l, Sebastian +wrote the letter, and Barlasch, forgetting his scholarly +acquirements, took the pen and made a mark beneath his own name +written at the foot of it. + +Then he went out, and left Sebastian to pay for the beer. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. ON THE BRIDGE. + + + + They that are above + Have ends in everything. + +A lame man was standing on the bridge that crosses the Neuer Pregel +from the Kant Strasse--which is the centre of the city of +Konigsberg--to the island known as the Kneiphof. This bridge is +called the Kramer Brucke, and may be described as the heart of the +town. From it on either hand diverge the narrow streets that run +along the river bank, busy with commerce, crowded with the narrow +sleighs that carry wood from the Pregel up into the town. + +The wider streets--such as the Kant Strasse, running downhill from +the royal castle to the river, and the Kneiphof'sche Langgasse, +leading southward to the Brandenburg gate and the great world--must +needs make use of the Kramer Brucke. Here, it may be said, every +man in the town must sooner or later pass in the execution of his +daily business, whether he go about it on foot or in a sleigh with a +pair of horses. Here the idler and those grave professors from the +University, which was still mourning the death of the aged Kant, +nearly always passed in their thoughtful and conscientious +promenades. + +Here this lame man, a cobbler by trade, plying his quiet calling in +a house in the Neuer Markt, where the lime-trees grow close to the +upper windows, had patiently kept watch for three days. He was, +like many lame men, of an abnormal width and weight. He had a +large, square, dogged face, which seemed to promise that he would +wait there till the crack of doom rather than abandon a quest. + +It was very cold--mid-winter within a few miles of the frozen Baltic +on the very verge of Russia, at that point where old Europe +stretches a long arm out into the unknown. The cobbler was wrapped +in a sheepskin coat, which stood out all round him with the +stiffness of wood, so that he seemed to be living inside a box. To +keep himself warm he occasionally limped across from end to end of +the bridge, but never went farther. At times he leant his arms on +the stone wall at the Kant Strasse end of the bridge, and looked +down into the Lower Fish Market, where women from Pillau and the +Baltic shores--mere bundles of clothes--stood over their baskets of +fish frozen hard like sticks. It was a silent market. One cannot +haggle long when a minute's exposure to the air will give a frost- +bite to the end of the nose. The would-be purchaser can scarcely +make an effective bargain through a fringe of icicles that rattle +against his lips if he open them. + +The Pregel had been frozen for three months, with only the one +temporary thaw in November which cost Napoleon so many thousands at +his broken bridge across the Beresina. Though no water had flowed +beneath this bridge, many strange feet had passed across it. + +It had vibrated beneath Napoleon's heavy carriage, under the +lumbering guns that Macdonald took northward to blockade Riga. +Within the last few weeks it had given passage to the last of the +retreating army, a mere handful of heartsick fugitives. Macdonald +with his staff had been ignominiously driven across it by the +Cossacks who followed hard after them, the great marshal still wild +with rage at the defection of Yorck and the Prussian contingent. + +And now the Cossacks on their spare and ill-tempered horses passed +to and fro, wild men under an untamed leader whose heart was +hardened to stone by bereavement. The cobbler looked at them with a +countenance of wood. It was hard to say whether he preferred them +to the French, or was indifferent to one as to the other. He looked +at their boots with professional disdain. For all men must look at +the world from their own standpoint and consider mankind in the +light of their own interests. Thus those who live on the greed or +the vanity, or batten on the charity of their neighbour, learn to +watch the lips. + +The cobbler, by reason of looking at the lower end of men, attracted +little attention from the passer-by. He who has his eyes on the +ground passes unheeded. For the surest way of awakening interest is +to appear interested. It would seem that this cobbler was waiting +for a pair of boots not made in Konigsberg. And on the third day +his expressionless black eyes lighted on feet not shod in Poland, or +France, or Germany, nor yet in square-toed Russia. + +The owner of these far-travelled boots was a lightly-built dark- +faced man, with eyes quietly ubiquitous. He caught the interested +glance of the cobbler, and turned to look at him again with the +uneasiness that is bred of war. The cobbler instantly hobbled +towards him. + +"Will you help a poor man?" he said. + +"Why should I?" was the answer, with one hand already half out of +its thick glove. "You are not hungry; you have never been starved +in your life." + +The German was quick enough, but it was not quite the Prussian +German. + +The cobbler looked at the speaker slowly. + +"An Englishman?" he asked. + +And the other nodded. + +"Come this way." + +The cobbler hobbled towards the Kneiphof, where the streets are +quiet, and the Englishman followed him. At the corner of the Kohl +Markt he turned and looked, not at the man, but at his boots. + +"You are a sailor?" he said. + +"Yes." + +"I was told to look for an English sailor--Louis d'Arragon." + +"Then you have found me," was the reply. + +Still the cobbler hesitated. + +"How am I to know it?" he asked suspiciously. + +"Can you read?" asked D'Arragon. "I can prove who I am--if I want +to. But I am not sure that I want to." + +"Oh! it is only a letter--of no importance. Some private business +of your own. It comes from Dantzig--written by one whose name +begins with 'B.'" + +"Barlasch," suggested D'Arragon quietly, as he took from his pocket +a paper which he unfolded and held beneath the eyes of the cobbler. +It was a passport written in three languages. If the man could +read, he was not anxious to boast of an accomplishment so far above +his station; but he glanced at the paper, not without a practised +skill, to seize the essential parts of it. + +"Yes, that is the name," he said, searching in his pockets. "The +letter is an open one. Here it is." + +In passing the letter, the man made a scarcely perceptible movement +of the hand which might have been a signal. + +"No," said D'Arragon, "I do not belong to the Tugendbund or to any +other secret society. We have need of no such associations in my +country." + +The cobbler laughed, not without embarrassment. + +"You have a quick eye," he said. "It is a great country, England. +I have seen the river full of English ships before Napoleon chased +you off the seas." + +D'Arragon smiled as he unfolded the letter. + +"He has not done it yet," he said, with that spirit which enables +mariners of the Anglo-Saxon race to be amused when there is a talk +of supremacy on the high seas. He read the letter carefully, and +his face hardened. + +"I was instructed," said the cobbler, "to give you the letter, and +at the same time to inform you that any assistance or facilities you +may require will be forth-coming; besides . . . " he broke off and +pointed with his thick, leather-stained finger, "that writing is not +the writing of him who signs." + +"He who signs cannot write at all." + +"That writing," went on the cobbler, "is a passport in any German +state. He who carries a letter written in that hand can live and +travel free anywhere from here to the Rhine or the Danube." + +"Then I am lucky in possessing a powerful friend," said D'Arragon, +"for I know who wrote this letter. I think I may say he is a friend +of mine." + +"I am sure of it. I have already been told so," said the cobbler. +"Have you a lodging in Konigsberg? No? Then you can lodge in my +house." + +Without awaiting a reply, which he seemed to consider a foregone +conclusion, he limped down the Kohl Markt towards the steps leading +to the river, which in winter is a thoroughfare. + +"I live in the Neuer Markt," he said breathlessly, as he laboured +onwards. "I have waited for you three days on that bridge. Where +have you been all this time?" + +"Avoiding the French," replied D'Arragon curtly. Respecting his own +affairs he was reticent, as commanders and other lonely men must +always be. They walked side by side on the dusty and trodden ice +without further speech. At the steps from the river to Neuer Markt, +D'Arragon gave the lame man his hand, and glanced a second time at +the fingers which clasped his own. They had not been born to toil, +but had had it thrust upon them. + +They crossed the Neuer Markt together, and went into that house +where the linden grows so close as to obscure the windows. And the +lodging offered to Louis was the room in which Charles Darragon had +slept in his wet clothes six months earlier. So small is the world +in which we live, and so narrow are the circles drawn by Fate around +human existence and endeavour. + +The cobbler having shown his visitor the room, and pointed out its +advantages, was turning to go when D'Arragon, who was laying aside +his fur coat, seemed to catch his attention, and he paused on the +threshold. + +"There is French blood in your veins," he said abruptly. + +"Yes--a little." + +"So. I thought there must be. You reminded me--it was odd, the way +you laid aside your coat--reminded me of a Frenchman who lodged here +for one night. He was like you, too, in build and face. He was a +spy, if you please--one of the French Emperor's secret police. I +was new at the work then, but still I suspected there was something +wrong about him. I took his boots--a pretext of mending them. I +locked him in. He got out of that window, if you please, without +his boots. He followed me, and learnt much that he was not meant to +know. I have since heard it from others. He did the Emperor a +great service--that man. He saved his life, I think, from +assassination in Dantzig. And he did me an ill turn--but it was my +own carelessness. I thought to make a thaler by lodging him, and he +was tricking me all the while." + +"What was his name?" asked D'Arragon. + +"Oh--I forgot the name he gave. It was a false one. He was +disguised as a common soldier--and he was in reality an officer of +the staff. But I know the name of the officer to whom he wrote his +report of his night's lodging here--his colleague in the secret +police, it would seem." + +"Ah!" said D'Arragon, busying himself with his haversack. + +"It was De Casimir--a Polish name. And in the last two days I have +heard of him. He has accepted the Emperor's amnesty. He has +married a beautiful woman, and is living like a prince at Cracow. +All this since the siege of Dantzig began. In time of war there is +no moment to lose, eh?" + +"And the other? He who slept in this room. Has he passed through +Konigsberg again?" + +"No, that he has not. If he had, I should have seen him. You can +believe me, I wanted to see him. I was at my place on the bridge +all the time--while the French occupied Konigsberg--when the last of +them hurried away a month ago with the Cossacks close behind. No. +I should have seen him, and known him. He is not on this side of +the Niemen, that fine young gentleman. Now, what can I do to help +you to-morrow?" + +"You can help me on the way to Vilna," answered D'Arragon. + +"You will never get there." + +"I will try," said the sailor. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. A FLASH OF MEMORY. + + + + Nothing can cover his high fame but Heaven, + No pyramids set off his memories, + But the eternal substance of his greatness + To which I leave him. + +"Why I will not let you go out into the streets?" said Barlasch one +February morning, stamping the snow from his boots. "Why I will not +let you go out into the streets?" + +He turned and followed Desiree towards the kitchen, after having +carefully bolted the heavy oaken door which had been strengthened as +if to resist a siege. Desiree's face had that clear pallor which +marks an indoor life; but Barlasch, weather-beaten, scorched and +wrinkled, showed no sign of having endured a month's siege in an +overcrowded city. + +"I will tell you why I will not let you go into the streets. +Because they are not fit for any woman to go into--because if you +walked from here to the Rathhaus you would see sights that would +come back to you in your sleep, and wake you from it, when you are +an old woman. Do you know what they do with their dead? They throw +them outside their doors--with nothing to cover their starved +nakedness--as Lisa put her ashes in the street every morning. And +the cart goes round, as the dustman's cart used to go in times of +peace, and, like the dustman's cart, it drops part of its load, and +the dust that blows round it is the infection of typhus. That is +why you cannot go into the streets." + +He unbuttoned his fur coat and displayed a smart new uniform; for +Rapp had put his miserable army into new clothes, with which many of +the Dantzig warehouses had been filled by Napoleon's order at the +beginning of the war. + +"There," he said, laying a small parcel on the table, "there is my +daily ration. Two ounces of horse, one ounce of salt beef, the same +as yesterday. One does not know how long we shall be treated so +generously. Let us keep the beef--we may come to want some day." + +And giving a hoarse laugh, he lifted a board in the floor, beneath +which he hoarded his stores. + +"Will you cook your dejeuner yourself," asked Desiree. "I have +something else for my father." + +"And what have you?" asked Barlasch curtly; "you are not keeping +anything hidden from me?" + +"No," answered Desiree, with a laugh at the sternness of his face, +"I will give him a piece of the ham which was left over from last +night." + +"Left over?" echoed Barlasch, going close to her and looking up into +her face, for she was two inches taller than he. "Left over? Then +you did not eat your supper last night?" + +"Neither did you eat yours, for it is there under the floor." + +Barlasch turned away with a gesture of despair. He sat down in the +high armchair that stood on the hearth, and tapped on the floor with +one foot in pessimistic thought. + +"Ah! the women, the women," he muttered, looking into the +smouldering fire. "Lies--all lies. You said that your supper was +very nice," he shouted at her over his shoulder. + +"So it was," answered she gaily, "so it is still." + +Barlasch did not rise to her lighter humour. He sat in reflection +for some minutes. Then his thoughts took their usual form of a +muttered aside. + +"It is a case of compromise. Always like that. The good God had to +compromise with the first woman he created almost at once. And men +have done it ever since--and have never had the best of it. See +here," he said aloud, turning to Desiree, "I will make a bargain +with you. I will eat my last night's supper here at this table, +now, if you will eat yours." + +"Agreed." + +"Are you hungry?" asked Barlasch, when the scanty meal was set out +before him. + +"Yes." + +"So am I." + +He laughed quite gaily now, and the meal was not without a certain +air of festivity, though it consisted of nothing better than two +ounces of horse and half an ounce of ham eaten in company of that +rye-bread made with one-third part of straw which Rapp allowed the +citizens to buy. + +For Rapp had first tamed his army, and was now taming the +Dantzigers. He had effected discipline in his own camp by getting +his regiments into shape, by establishing hospitals (which were +immediately filled), and by protecting the citizens from the +depredations of the starving fugitives who had been poured pell-mell +into the town. + +Then he turned his attention to the Dantzigers, who were openly or +secretly opposed to him. He seized their churches and turned them +into stores; their schools he used for hospitals, their monasteries +for barracks. He broke into their cellars, and took the wine for +the sick. Their storehouses he placed under the strictest guard, +and no man could claim possession of his own goods. + +"We are," he said in effect, with that grim Alsatian humour which +the Prussians were slow to understand; "we are one united family in +a narrow house, and it is I who keep the storeroom key." + +Barlasch had proved to be no false prophet. His secret store +escaped the vigilance of the picket, whom he himself conducted to +the cellars in the Frauengasse. Although he was sparing enough, he +could always provide Desiree with anything for which she expressed a +wish, and even forestalled those which she left unspoken. In return +he looked for absolute obedience, and after their frugal breakfast +he took her to task for depriving herself of such food as they could +afford. + +"See you," he said, "a siege is a question of the stomach. It is +not the Russians we have to fight; for they will not fight. They +sit outside and wait for us to die of cold, of starvation, of +typhus. And we are obliging them at the rate of two hundred a day. +Yes, each day Rapp is relieved of the responsibility of two hundred +mouths that drop open and require nothing more. Be greedy--eat all +you have, and hope for release to-morrow, and you die. Be sparing-- +starve yourself from parsimony or for the love of some one who will +eat your share and forget to thank you, and you will die of typhus. +Be careful, and patient, and selfish--eat a little, take what +exercise you can, cook your food carefully with salt, and you will +live. I was in a siege thirty years before you were born, and I am +alive yet, after many others. Obey me and we will get through the +siege of Dantzig, which is only just beginning." + +Then suddenly he gave way to anger, and banged his hand down on the +table. + +"But, sacred name of thunder, do not make me believe you have eaten +when you have not," he shouted. "Never do that." + +Carried away by the importance of this question, he said many things +which cannot be set before the eyes of a generation sensitive to +plainness of speech, and only tolerant of it in suggestions of +impropriety. + +"And the patron," he ended abruptly, "how is he?" + +"He is not very well," answered Desiree. Which answer did not +satisfy Barlasch, who insisted on taking off his boots, and going +upstairs to see Sebastian. + +It was a mere nothing, the invalid said. Such food did not suit +him. + +"You have been accustomed to live well all your life," answered +Barlasch, looking at him with the puzzled light of a baffled memory +in his eye which always came when he looked at Desiree's father. +"One must see what can be done." + +And he went out forthwith to return after an hour and more with a +chicken freshly killed. Desiree did not ask him where he had +procured it. She had given up such inquiries, for Barlasch always +confessed quite bluntly to theft, and she did not know whether to +believe him or not. + +But the change of diet had no beneficial effect, and the next day +Desiree sent Barlasch to the house of the doctor whose practice lay +in the Frauengasse. He came and shook his head bluntly. For even +an old doctor may be hardened at the end of his life by an orgy, as +it were, of death. + +"I could cure him," he said, "if there were no Russians outside the +walls; if I could give him fresh milk and good brandy and strong +soup." + +But even Barlasch could not find milk in Dantzig. The brandy was +forthcoming, and the fresh meat; the soup Desiree made with her own +hands. Sebastian had not been the same man since the closing of the +roads and the gradual death of his hopes that the Dantzigers would +rise against the soldiers that thronged their streets. At one time +it would have been easy to carry out such a movement, and to throw +themselves and their city upon the mercy of the Russians. But +Dantzig awoke to this possibility too late, when Rapp's iron hand +had closed in upon it. He knew his own strength so well that he +treated with a contemptuous leniency such citizens as were convicted +of communicating with the enemy. + +Sebastian's friends seemed to have deserted him. Perhaps it was not +discreet to be seen in the company of one who had come under +Napoleon's displeasure. Some had quitted the city after hurriedly +concealing their valuables in their gardens, behind the chimneys, +beneath the floors, where it is to be supposed they still lie +hidden. Others were among the weekly thousand or twelve hundred who +were carted out by the Oliva Gate to be thrown into huge trenches, +while the waiting Russians watched from their lines on the heights +of Langfuhr. + +It was true that news continued to filter in, and never quite +ceased, all through the terrible twelve months that were to follow. +More especially did news that was unfavourable to the French find +its way into the beleaguered city. But it was not authentic news, +and Sebastian gathered little comfort from the fact--not unknown to +the whispering citizens--that Rapp himself had heard nothing from +the outer world since the Elbing mail-cart had been turned back by +the first of the Cossacks on the night of the seventh of January. + +Perhaps Sebastian had that most fatal of maladies--to which nearly +all men come at last--weariness of life. + +"Why don't you fortify yourself, and laugh at fortune?" asked +Barlasch, twenty years his senior, as he stood sturdily on his +stocking-feet at the sick man's bedside. + +"I take what my daughter gives me," protested Sebastian, half +peevishly. + +"But that does not suffice," answered the materialist. "It does not +suffice to swallow evil fortune--one must digest it." + +Sebastian made no answer. He was a quiet patient, and lay all day +with wide-open, dreaming eyes. He seemed to be waiting for +something. This, indeed, was his mental attitude as presented to +his neighbours, and perhaps to the few friends he possessed in +Dantzig. He had waited through the years during which Desiree had +grown to womanhood. He waited on doggedly through the first month +of the siege, without enthusiasm, without comment--without hope, +perhaps. He seemed to be waiting now to get better. + +"He has made little or no progress," said the doctor, who could only +give a passing glance at his patients, for he was working day and +night. He had not time to beat about the bush, as his kind heart +would have liked, for he had known Desiree all her life. + +It was Shrove Tuesday, and the streets were full of revellers. The +Neapolitans and other Southerners had made great preparations for +the carnival, and the Governor had not denied them their annual +licence. They had built a high car in one of the entrance yards to +the Marienkirche; and finding that the ancient arch would not allow +the erection to pass out into the street, they had pulled down the +pious handiwork of a bygone generation. + +The shouts of these merrymakers could be dimly heard through the +double windows, but Sebastian made no inquiry as to the meaning of +the cry. A sort of lassitude--the result of confinement within +doors, of insufficient food, of waning hope--had come over Desiree. +She listened heedlessly to the sounds in the streets through which +the dead were passing to the Oliva Gate, while the living danced by +in their hideous travesty of rejoicing. + +It was dusk when Barlasch came in. + +"The streets," he said, "are full of fools, dressed as such." +Receiving no answer, he crossed the room to where Desiree sat, +treading noiselessly, and stood in front of her, trying to see her +averted face. He stooped down and peered at her until she could no +longer hide her tear-stained eyes. + +He made a wry face and a little clicking noise with his tongue, such +as the women of his race make when they drop and break some +household utensil. Then he went back towards the bed. Hitherto he +had always observed a certain ceremoniousness of manner in the sick +chamber. He laid this aside this evening, and sat down on a chair +that stood near. + +Thus they remained in a silence which seemed to increase with the +darkness. At length the stillness became so marked that Barlasch +slowly turned his head towards the bed. The same instinct had come +to Desiree at the same moment. + +They both rose and groped their way towards Sebastian. Desiree +found the flint and struck it. The sulphur burnt blue for +interminable moments, and then flared to meet the wick of the +candle. Barlasch watched Desiree as she held the light down to her +father's face. Sebastian's waiting was over. Barlasch had not +needed a candle to recognize death. + +From Desiree his bright and restless eyes turned slowly towards the +dead man's face--and he stepped back. + +"Ah!" he said, with a hoarse cry of surprise, "now I remember. I +was always sure that I had seen his face before. And when I saw it +it was like that--like the face of a dead man. It was on the Place +de la Nation, on a tumbrel--going to the guillotine. He must have +escaped, as many did, by some accident or mistake." + +He went slowly to the window, holding his shaggy head between his +two clenched hands as if to spur his memory to an effort. Then he +turned and pointed to the silent form on the bed. + +"That is a noble of France," he said; "one of the greatest. And all +France thinks him dead this twenty years. And I cannot remember his +name--goodness of God--I cannot remember his name!" + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. VILNA. + + + + It is our trust + That there is yet another world to mend + All error and mischance. + +Louis d'Arragon knew the road well enough from Konigsberg to the +Niemen. It runs across a plain, flat as a table, through which many +small streams seek their rivers in winding beds. This country was +not thinly inhabited, though the villages had been stripped, as +foliage is stripped by a cloud of locusts. Each cottage had its +ring of silver birch-trees to protect it from the winds which sweep +from the Baltic and the steppe. These had been torn and broken down +by the retreating army, in a vain hope of making fire with green +wood. + +It was quite easy to keep in the steps of the retreating army, for +the road was marked by recumbent forms huddled on either side. Few +vehicles had come so far, for the broken country near to Vilna and +around Kowno had presented slopes up which the starving horses were +unable to drag their load. + +D'Arragon reached Kowno without mishap, and there found a Russian +colonel of Cossacks who proved friendly enough, and not only +appreciated the value of his passport and such letters of +recommendation as he had been able to procure at Konigsberg, but +gave him others, and forwarded him on his journey. + +He still nourished a lingering belief in De Casimir's word. Charles +must have been left behind at Vilna to recover from his exhaustion. +He would, undoubtedly, make his way westward as soon as possible. +He might have got away to the South. Any one of these huddled human +landmarks might be Charles Darragon. + +Louis was essentially a thorough man. The sea is a mistress +demanding a whole and concentrated attention--and concentration soon +becomes a habit. Louis did not travel at night, for fear of passing +Charles on the road, alive or dead. He knew his cousin better than +any in the Frauengasse had learnt to know this gay and inconsequent +Frenchman. A certain cunning lay behind the happy laugh--a great +capacity was hidden by the careless manner. If ready wit could +bring man through the dangers of the retreat, Charles had as good a +chance of surviving as any. + +Nevertheless, Louis rarely passed a dead man on the road, but drew +up, and quitting his sleigh, turned over the body, which was almost +invariably huddled with its back offered to the deadly, prevailing +North wind. Against each this wind had piled a sloping bank of that +fine snow which, even in the lightest breeze, drifts over the +surface of the land like an ivory mist, waist high, and cakes the +clothes. In a high wind it will rise twenty feet in the air, and +blind any who try to face it. + +As often as not a mere glance sufficed to show that this was not +Charles, for few of the bodies were clad. Many had been stripped, +while still living, by their half-frozen comrades. But sometimes +Louis had to dust the snow from strange bearded faces before he +could pass on with a quick sigh of relief. + +Beyond Kowno, the country is thinly populated, and spreading pine- +forests bound the horizon. The Cossacks--the wild men of Toula, who +reaped the laurels of the rearguard fighting--were all along the +road. D'Arragon frequently came upon a picket--as often as not the +men were placidly sitting on a frozen corpse, as on a seat--and +stopped to say a few words and gather news. + +"You will find your friend at Vilna," said one young officer, who +had been attached to General Wilson's staff, and had many stories to +tell of the energetic and indefatigable English commissioner. "At +Vilna we took twenty thousand prisoners--poor devils who came and +asked us for food--and I don't know how many officers. And if you +see Wilson there, remember me to him. If Napoleon has need to hate +one man more than another for this business, it is that firebrand, +Wilson. Yes, you will assuredly find your cousin at Vilna among the +prisoners. But you must not linger by the road, for they are being +sent back to Moscow to rebuild that which they have caused to be +destroyed." + +He laughed and waved his gloved hand as D'Arragon drove on. + +After the broken land and low abrupt hills of Kowno, the country was +flat again until the valley of the Vilia opened out. And here, +almost within sight of Vilna, D'Arragon drove down a short hill +which must ever be historic. He drove slowly, for on either side +were gun-carriages deep sunken in the snow where the French had left +them. This hill marked the final degeneration of the Emperor's army +into a shapeless rabble hopelessly flying before an exhausted enemy. + +Half on the road and half in the ditch were hundreds of carriages +which had been hurriedly smashed up to provide firewood. Carts, +still laden with the booty of Moscow, stood among the trees. Some +of them contained small square boxes of silver coin, brought by +Napoleon to pay his army and here abandoned. Silver coin was too +heavy to carry. The rate of exchange had long been sixty francs in +silver for a gold napoleon or a louis. The cloth coverings of the +cushions had been torn off to shape into rough garments; the straw +stuffing had been eaten by the horses. + +Inside the carriages were--crouching on the floor--the frozen bodies +of fugitives too badly wounded or too ill to attempt to walk. They +had sat there till death came to them. Many were women. In one +carriage four women, in silks and fine linen, were huddled together. +Their furs had been dragged from them either before or after death. + +Louis stopped at the bottom and looked back. De Casimir at all +events had succeeded in surmounting this obstacle which had proved +fatal to so many--the grave of so many hopes--God's rubbish-heap, +where gold and precious stones, silks and priceless furs, all that +greedy men had schemed and striven and fought to get, fell from +their hands at last. + +Vilna lies all down a slope--a city built upon several hills--and +the Vilia runs at the bottom. That Way of Sorrow, the Smolensk +Road, runs eastward by the river bank, and here the rearguard held +the Cossacks in check while Murat hastily decamped, after dark, +westwards to Kowno. The King of Naples, to whom Napoleon gave the +command of his broken army quite gaily--"a vous, Roi de Naples," he +is reported to have said, as he hurried to his carriage--Murat +abandoned his sick and wounded; did not even warn the stragglers. + +D'Arragon entered the city by the narrow gate known as the Town +Gate, through which, as through that greater portal of Moscow, every +man must pass bareheaded. + +"The Emperor is here," were the first words spoken to him by the +officer on guard. + +But the streets were quiet enough, and the winner in this great game +of chance maintained the same unostentatious silence in victory as +that which, in the hour of humiliation, had baffled Napoleon. + +It was almost night, and D'Arragon had been travelling since +daylight. He found a lodging, and, having secured the comfort of +the horse provided by the lame shoemaker of Konigsberg, he went out +into the streets in search of information. + +Few cities are, to this day, so behind the times as Vilna. The +streets are still narrow, winding, ill-paved, ill-lighted. When +D'Arragon quitted his lodging, he found no lights at all, for the +starving soldiers had climbed to the lamps for the sake of the oil, +which they had greedily drunk. It was a full moon, however, and the +patrols at the street corners were willing to give such information +as they could. They were strangers to Vilna like Louis himself, and +not without suspicion; for this was a city which had bidden the +French welcome. There had been dancing and revelry on the outward +march. The citizens themselves were afraid of the strange, wild- +eyed men who returned to them from Moscow. + +At last, in the Episcopal Palace, where head-quarters had been +hurriedly established, Louis found the man he sought, the officer in +charge of the arrangements for despatching prisoners into Russia and +to Siberia. He was a grizzled warrior of the old school, speaking +only French and Russian. He was tired out and hungry, but he +listened to Louis' story. + +"There is the list," he said, "it is more or less complete. Many +have called themselves officers who never held a commission from the +Emperor Napoleon. But we have done what we can to sort them out." + +So Louis sat down in the dimly lighted room and deciphered the names +of those officers who had been left behind, detained by illness or +wounds or the lack of spirit to persevere. + +"You understand," said the Russian, returning to his work, "I cannot +afford the time to help you. We have twenty-five thousand prisoners +to feed and keep alive." + +"Yes--I understand," answered Louis, who had the seaman's way of +making himself a part of his surroundings. + +The old colonel glanced at him across the table with a grim smile. + +"The Emperor," he said, "was sitting in that chair an hour ago. He +may come back at any moment." + +"Ah!" said Louis, following the written lines with a pencil. + +But no interruption came, and at last the list was finished. +Charles was not among the officers taken prisoner at Vilna. + +"Well?" inquired the Russian, without looking up. + +"Not there." + +The old officer took a sheet of paper and hurriedly wrote a few +words on it. + +"Try the Basile Hospital to-morrow morning," he said. "That will +gain you admittance. It is to be cleared out by the Emperor's +orders. We have about twenty thousand dead to dispose of as well-- +but they are in no hurry." + +He laughed grimly, and bade Louis good night. + +"Come to me again," he called out after him, drawn by a sudden chord +of sympathy to this stranger, who had the rare capacity of confining +himself to the business in hand. + +By daybreak the next morning Louis was at the hospital of St. +Basile. It had been prepared by the Duc de Bassano under Napoleon's +orders when Vilna was selected as the base of the great army. When +the Russians entered Vilna after the retreating remnant of Murat's +rabble, they found the dead and the dying in the streets and the +market-place. Some had made fires and had lain themselves down +around them--to die. Others were without food or firing, almost +without clothes. Many were barefoot. All, officers and men alike, +were in rags. It was a piteous sight; for half of these men were no +longer human. Some were gnawing at their own limbs. Many were +blind, others had lost their speech or hearing. Nearly all were +marred by some disfigurement--some terrible sore, the result of a +frozen wound, of frostbite, of scurvy, of gangrene. + +The Cossacks, half civilized as they were, wild with the excitement +of killing and the chase of a human quarry, stood aghast in the +streets of Vilna. + +When the Emperor arrived, he set to work to clear the streets first, +to get these piteous men indoors. There was no question yet of +succouring them. It was not even possible to feed them all. The +only thought was to find them some protection against the ruthless +cold. + +The first thought was, of course, directed to the hospitals. They +looked in and saw a storehouse of the dead. The dead could wait; +but the living must be housed. + +So the dead waited, and it was their turn now at the St. Basile +Hospital, where Louis presented himself at dawn. + +"Looking for some one?" asked a man in uniform, who must have been +inside the hospital, for he hurried down the steps with a set mouth +and quailing eyes. + +"Yes." + +"Then don't go in--wait here." + +Louis looked in and took the doctor's advice. The dead were stored +in the passages, one on the top of the other, like bales of goods in +a warehouse. + +Some attempt seemed to have been made to clear the wards, but those +whose task it had been had not had time to do more than drag the +dead out into the passage. + +The soldiers were now at work in the lower passage. Carts began to +arrive. An officer told off to this dread duty came up hurriedly +smoking a cigarette, his high fur collar about his ears. He glanced +at Louis, and bowed to him. + +"Looking for some one?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Then stand here beside me. It is I who have to keep count. They +say there are eight thousand in here. They will be carried past +here to the carts. Have a cigarette." + +It is hard to talk when the thermometer registers more than twenty +degrees of frost, for the lips stiffen and contract into wrinkles +like the lips of a very old woman. Perhaps neither of the watchers +was in the humour to begin an acquaintance. + +They stood side by side, stamping their feet to keep the blood +going, without speaking. Once or twice Louis stepped forward, and +at a signal from the officer the bearers stopped. But Louis shook +his head, and they passed on. At midday the officer was relieved, +his place being taken by another, who bowed stiffly to Louis and +took no more notice of him. For war either hardens or softens. It +never leaves a man as it found him. + +All day the work was carried on. Through the hours this procession +of the bearded dead went silently by. At the invitation of a +sergeant, Louis took some soup and bread from the soldiers' table. +The men laughingly apologized for the quality of both. + +Towards evening the officer who had first come on duty returned to +his work. + +"Not yet?" he asked, offering the inevitable cigarette. + +"Not yet," answered Louis, and even as he spoke he stepped forward +and stopped the bearers. He brushed aside the matted hair and +beard. + +"Is that your friend?" asked the officer. + +"Yes." + +It was Charles at last. + +"The doctor says these have been dead two months," volunteered the +first bearer, over his shoulder. + +"I am glad you have found him," said the officer, signing to the men +to go on with their burden. "It is better to know--is it not?" + +"Yes," answered Louis slowly. "It is better to know." + +And something in his voice made the Russian officer turn and watch +him as he went away. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. THE BARGAIN. + + + + Like plants in mines which never saw the sun, + But dream of him and guess where he may be, + And do their best to climb and get to him. + +"Oh yes," Barlasch was saying, "it is easier to die--it is that that +you are thinking--it is easier to die." + +Desiree did not answer. She was sitting in the little kitchen at +the back of the house in the Frauengasse. For they had no firing +now, and were burning the furniture. Her father had been buried a +week. The siege was drawn closer than ever. There was nothing to +eat, nothing to do, no one to talk to. For Sebastian's political +friends did not dare to come near his house. Desiree was alone in +this hopeless world with Barlasch, who was on duty now in one of the +trenches near the river. He went out in the morning, and only +returned at night. He had just come in, and she could see by the +light of the single candle that his face was grey and haggard, with +deep lines drawn downwards from eyes to chin. Desiree's own face +had lost all its roundness and the bloom of her northern girlhood. + +Barlasch glanced at her, and bit his lip. He had brought nothing +with him. At one time he had always managed to bring something to +the house every day--a chicken, or a turnip, or a few carrots. But +to-night there was nothing. And he was tired out. He did not sit +down, however, but stood breathing on his fingers and rubbing them +together to restore circulation. He pushed the candle farther +forward on the table, so that it cast a better light upon her face. + +"Yes," he said, "it is often so. I, who speak to you, have seen it +so a dozen times in my life. When it is easier to sit down and die. +Bah! That is a fine thing to do--a brave thing--to sit down and +die." + +"I am not going to do it, so do not make that mistake," said +Desiree, with a laugh that had no mirth in it. + +"But you would like to. Listen. It is not what you feel that +matters; it is what you do. Remember that." + +There was an unusual vigour in his voice. Of late, since the death +of Sebastian, Barlasch seemed to have fallen victim to the settled +apathy which lives within a prison wall and broods over a besieged +city. It is a sort of silent mourning worn by the soul for a lost +liberty. Dantzig had soon succumbed to it, for the citizens had not +even the satisfaction of being quite sure that they were deserving +of the world's sympathy. It soon spread to the soldiers who were +defending a Prussian city for a French Emperor who seemed to have +forgotten them. + +But to-night Barlasch seemed to be more energetic. Desiree looked +round over her shoulder. He had not laid on the table any +contribution to a bare larder; and yet his manner was that of one +who has prepared a surprise and is waiting to enjoy its effect. He +was restless, moving from one foot to another, rubbing together his +crooked fingers and darting sidelong glances at her face. + +"What is it?" she asked suddenly, and Barlasch gave a start as if he +had been detected in some deceit. He bustled forward to the +smouldering fire and held his hands over it. + +"It is that it is very cold to-night," he answered, with that +exaggerated ease of manner with which the young and the simple seek +to conceal embarrassment. "Tell me, mademoiselle, what have we for +supper to-night? It is I who will cook it. To-night we will keep a +fete. There is that piece of beef for you. I know a way to make it +appetizing. For me there is my portion of horse. It is the friend +of man--the horse." + +He laughed and made an effort to be gay, which had a poignant pathos +in it that made Desiree bite her lip. + +"What fete is it that we are to keep?" she asked, with a wan smile. +Her kind blue eyes had that glitter in them which is caused by a +constant and continuous hunger. Six months ago they had only been +gay and kind, now they saw the world as it is, as it always must be +so long as the human heart is capable of happiness and the human +reason recognizes the rarity of its attainment. + +"The fete of St. Matthias--my fete, mademoiselle." + +"But I thought your name was Jean." + +"So it is. But I keep my fete at St. Matthias, because on that day +we won a battle in Egypt. We will have wine--a bottle of wine--eh?" + +So Barlasch prepared a great feast which was to be celebrated by +Desiree in the dining-room, where he lighted a fire, and by himself +in the kitchen. For he held strongly to a code of social laws which +the great Revolution had not succeeded in breaking. And one of +these laws was that it would be in some way degrading to Desiree to +see him eat. + +He was a skilled and delicate cook, only hampered by that insatiable +passion for economy which is the dominant characteristic of the +peasant of Northern France. To-night, however, he was reckless, and +Desiree could hear him searching in his secret hiding-place beneath +the floor for concealed condiments and herbs. + +"There," he said, when he set the dish before her, "eat it with an +easy mind. There is nothing unclean in it. It is not rat or cat or +the liver of a starved horse, such as we others eat and ask no +better. It is all clean meat." + +He poured out wine, and stood in the darkened doorway watching her +drink it. Then he went away to his own meal in the kitchen, leaving +Desiree vaguely uneasy--for he was not himself to-night. She could +hear him muttering as he ate and moved hither and thither in the +kitchen. At short intervals he came and looked in at the door to +make sure that she was doing full honour to St. Matthias. When she +had finished, he came into the room. + +"Ah!" he said, glancing at her suspiciously and rubbing his hands +together. "That strengthens, eh?--that strengthens. We others who +lead a rough life--we know that a little food and a glass of wine +fit one out for any enterprise, for--well, any catastrophe." + +And Desiree knew in a flash of comprehension that the food and the +wine and the forced gaiety were nothing but preliminaries to bad +news. + +"What is it?" she asked a second time. "Is it . . . bombardment?" + +"Bombardment," he laughed, "they cannot shoot, those Cossacks. It +is only the French who understand artillery." + +"Then what is it?--for you have something to tell me, I know." + +He ruffled his shock-head of white hair, with a grimace of despair. + +"Yes," he admitted, "it is news." + +"From outside?" cried Desiree, with a sudden break in her voice. + +"From Vilna," answered Barlasch. He came into the room, and went +past her towards the fire, where he put the logs together carefully. + +"It is that he is alive," said Desiree, "my husband." + +"No, it is not that," Barlasch corrected. He stood with his back to +her, vaguely warming his hands. He had no learning, nor manners, +nor any polish: nothing but those instincts of the heart that teach +the head. And his instinct bade him turn his back on Desiree, and +wait in silence until she had understood his meaning. + +"Dead?" she asked, in a whisper. + +And, still warming his hands, he nodded his head vigorously. He +waited a long time for her to speak, and at last broke the silence +himself without looking round. + +"Troubles," he said, "troubles for us all. There is no avoiding +them. One can only push against them as against your cold wind of +Dantzig that comes from the sea. One can only push on. You must +push, mademoiselle." + +"When did he die?" asked Desiree; "where?" + +"At Vilna, three months ago. He has been dead three months. I knew +he was dead when you came back to the inn at Thorn, and told me that +you had seen De Casimir. De Casimir had left him dying--that liar. +You remember, I met a comrade on the road--one of my own country--he +told me that they had left ten thousand dead at Vilna, and twenty +thousand prisoners little better than dead. And I knew then that De +Casimir had left him there dying, or dead." + +He glanced back at her over his shoulder, and at the sight of her +face made that little click in his throat which, in peasant circles, +denotes a catastrophe. Then he shook his head slowly from side to +side. + +"Listen," he said roughly, "the good God knows best. I knew when I +saw you first, that day in June, in this kitchen, that you were +beginning your troubles; for I knew the reputation of Monsieur, your +husband. He was not what you thought him. A man is never what a +woman thinks him. But he was worse than most. And this trouble +that has come to you is chosen by the good God--and he has chosen +the least in his sack for you. You will know it some day--as I know +it now." + +"You know a great deal," said Desiree, who was quick in speech, and +he swung round on his heel to meet her spirit. + +"You are right," he said, pointing his accusatory finger. "I know a +great deal about you--and I am a very old man." + +"How did you learn this news from Vilna?" she asked, and his hand +went up to his mouth as if to hide his thoughts and control his +lips. + +"From one who comes straight from there--who buried your husband +there." + +Desiree rose and stood with her hands resting on the table, looking +at the persistent back again turned towards her. + +"Who?" she asked, in little more than a whisper. + +"The Captain--Louis d'Arragon." + +"And you have spoken to him to-day--here, in Dantzig?" + +Barlasch nodded his head. + +"Was he well?" asked Desiree, with a spontaneous anxiety that made +Barlasch turn slowly and look at her from beneath his great brows. + +"Oh, he was well enough," he answered, "he is made of steel, that +gentleman. He was well enough, and he has the courage of the devil. +There are some fishermen who come from Zoppot to sell their fish. +They steal through the Russian lines--on the ice of the river at +night and come to our outposts at daylight. One of them said my +name this morning. I looked at him. He was wrapped up only to show +the eyes. He drew his scarf aside. It was the Captain d'Arragon." + +"And he was well?" asked Desiree again, as if nothing else in the +world mattered. + +"Oh, mon Dieu, yes," cried Barlasch, impatiently, "he was well, I +tell you. Do you know why he came?" + +Desiree had sat down at the table again, where she leant her arms +and rested her chin in the palms of her two hands; for she was +weakened by starvation, and confinement, and sorrow. + +"No," she answered. + +"He came because he had learnt that the patron was dead. It was +known in Konigsberg a week ago. It is known all over Germany; that +quiet old gentleman who scraped a fiddle here in the Frauengasse. +And it is only I, in all the world, who know that he was a greater +man in Paris than ever he was in Germany--with his Tugendbund--and I +cannot remember his name." + +Barlasch broke off and thumped his brow with his fists, as if to +awaken that dead memory. And all the while he was searching +Desiree's face, with eyes made brighter and sharper than ever by +starvation. + +"And do you know what he came for--the Captain--for he never does +anything in idleness? He will run a great risk--but it is for a +great purpose. Do you know what he came for?" + +"No." + +Barlasch jerked his head back and laughed. + +"For you." + +He turned and looked at her; but she had raised her clasped hands to +her forehead, as if to shield her eyes from the light of the candle, +and he could not see her face. + +"Do you remember," said Barlasch, "that night when the patron was so +angry--on the mat--when Mademoiselle Mathilde had to make her +choice. It is your turn to-night. You have to make your choice. +Will you go?" + +"Yes," answered Desiree, behind her fingers. + +"'If Mademoiselle will come,' he said to me, 'bring her to this +place!' 'Yes, mon capitaine,' answered I. 'At any cost, Barlasch?' +'At any cost, mon capitaine.' And we are not men to break our +words. I will take you there--at any cost, mademoiselle. And he +will meet you there--at any cost." + +And Barlasch expectorated emphatically into the fire, after the +manner of low-born men. + +"What a pity," he added reflectively, "that he is only an +Englishman." + +"When are we to go?" asked Desiree, still behind her barrier of +clasped fingers. + +"To-morrow night, after midnight. We have arranged it all--the +Captain and I--at the outpost nearest to the river. He has +influence. He has rendered services to the Russians, and the +Russian commander will make a night attack on the outpost. In the +confusion we get through. We arranged it together. He pays me +well. It is a bargain, and I am to have my money. We shook hands +on it, and those who saw us must have thought that I was buying +fish. I, who have no money--and he, who had no fish." + + + +CHAPTER XXX. THE FULFILMENT. + + + + And I have laboured somewhat in my time + And not been paid profusely. + +When Desiree came down the next morning, she found Barlasch talking +to himself and laughing as he prepared his breakfast. + +He met her with a gay salutation, and seemed unable to control his +hilarity. + +"It is," he explained, "because to-night we shall be under fire. We +shall be in danger. It makes me afraid, and I laugh. I cannot help +it. When I am afraid, I laugh." + +He bustled about the room, and Desiree saw that he had already +opened his secret store beneath the floor, to take from it such +delicacies as remained. + +"You slept?" he asked sharply. "Yes, I can see you did. That is +good, for to-night we shall be awake. And now you must eat." + +For Barlasch was a materialist. He had fought death in one form or +another all his life, and he knew that those who eat and sleep are +better equipped for the battle than those who cherish high ideals or +think great thoughts. + +"It is a good thing," he said, looking at her, "that you are so +slim. In a military coat--if you put on that short dress in which +you skate, and your high boots--you will look like a soldier. It is +a good thing that it is winter, for you can wear the hood of your +military coat over your head, as they all do out in the trenches to +keep their ears from falling. So you need not cut off your hair-- +all that golden hair. Name of thunder, that would be a pity, would +it not?" + +He turned to the fire and stirred his coffee reflectively. + +"In my own country," he said, "a long time ago, there was a girl who +had hair like yours. That is why we are friends, perhaps." + +He gave a queer, short laugh, and took up his sheepskin coat +preparatory to going out. + +"I have my preparations to make," he said, with an air of +importance. "There is much to be thought of. We had not long +together, for the others were watching us. But we understand each +other. I go now to give him the signal that it is for to-night. I +have borrowed one of Lisa's dusters--a blue one that will show +against the snow--with which to give him the signal. And he is +watching from Zoppot with his telescope. That fat Lisa--if I had +held up my finger, she would have fallen in love with me. It has +always been so. These women--" + +And he went away muttering. + +If he had preparations to make, Desiree had no less. She could take +but little with her, and she was quitting the house which had always +been her home so long as she could remember. Those trunks which +Barlasch had so unhesitatingly recognized as coming from France +were, it seemed, destined never to be used again. Mathilde had +gone, taking with her her few simple possessions; for they had +always been poor in the Frauengasse. Sebastian had departed on that +journey which the traveller must face alone, taking naught with him. +And it was characteristic of the man that he had left nothing behind +him--no papers, no testament, no clue to that other life so +different from his life in the Frauengasse that it must have lapsed +into a fleeting, intangible memory, such as the brain is sometimes +allowed to retain of a dream dreamt in this existence, or perhaps in +another. Sebastian was gone--with his secret. + +Desiree, alone with hers, was left in this quiet house for a few +hours longer. Mechanically she set it in order. What would it +matter to-morrow whether it were set in order or not? Who would +come to note the last touches? She worked with that feverish haste +which is responsible for much unnecessary woman's work in this +world--the haste that owes its existence to the fear of having time +to think. Many talk for the same reason. What a quiet world, if +those who have nothing to say said nothing! But speech or work must +fail at last, and lo! the thoughts are lying in wait. + +Desiree's thoughts found their opportunity when she went into the +drawing-room upstairs, where her wedding-breakfast had been set +before the guests only eight months ago. The guests--De Casimir, +the Grafin, Sebastian, Mathilde, Charles! + +Desiree stood alone now in the silent room. She did not look at the +table. The guests were all gone. The dead past had buried its +dead. She went to the window and drew aside the curtain as she had +drawn it aside on her wedding-day to look down into the Frauengasse +and see Louis d'Arragon. And again her heart leapt in her breast +with that throb of fear. She turned where she stood, and looked at +the door as if she expected to see Charles come in at it, laughing +and gay, explaining (he was so good at explaining) his encounter in +the street, and stepping aside to allow Louis to come forward. +Louis, who looked at no one but her, and came into the room and into +her life. + +She had been afraid of him. She was afraid of him still. And her +heart had leapt at the thought that he had been restlessly, +sleeplessly thinking of her, working for her--had been to Vilna and +back for her, and was now waiting for her beyond the barrier of +Russian camp-fires. The dangers which made Barlasch laugh--and she +knew they were real enough, for it was only a real danger that +stirred something in the old soldier's blood to make him gay--these +dangers were of no account. She knew, she had known instantly and +for all time when she looked down into the Frauengasse and saw +Louis, that nothing in heaven or earth could keep them apart. + +She stood now, looking at the empty doorway. What was the rest of +her life to be? + +Barlasch returned in the afternoon. He was leisurely and inclined +to contemplativeness. It would seem that his preparations having +all been completed, he was left with nothing to do. War is a +purifier; it clears the social atmosphere and puts womanly men and +manly women into their right places. It is also a simplifier; it +teaches us to know how little we really require in daily life, and +how many of the environments with which men and women hamper +themselves are superfluous and the fruit of idleness. + +"I have nothing to do," said Barlasch, "I will cook a careful +dinner. All that I have saved in money I cannot carry away; all +that was stored beneath the floor must be left there. It is often +so in war." + +He had told Desiree that they would have to walk twelve miles across +the snow-clad marshes bordering the frozen Vistula, between midnight +and dawn. It needed no telling that they could carry little with +them. + +"You will have to make a new beginning in life," he said curtly, +"with the clothes upon your back. How many times have I done it-- +the Saints alone know! But take money, if you have it in gold or +silver. Mine is all in copper groschen, and it is too heavy to +carry. I have never yet been anywhere that money was not useful-- +and name of a dog! I have never had it." + +So Desiree divided what money she possessed with Barlasch, who added +it carefully up and repeated several times for accuracy the tale of +what he had received. For, like many who do not hesitate to steal, +he was very particular in money matters. + +"As for me," he said, "I shall make a new beginning, too. The +Captain will enable me to get back to France, when I shall go to the +Emperor again. It is no place for one of the Old Guard, here with +Rapp. I am getting old, but he will find something for me to do, +that little Emperor." + +At midnight they set out, quitting the house in the Frauengasse +noiselessly. The street was quiet enough, for half the houses were +empty now. Their footsteps were inaudible on the trodden snow. It +was a dark night and not cold; for the great frosts of this terrible +winter were nearly over. + +Barlasch carried his musket and bayonet. He had instructed Desiree +to walk in front of him, should they meet a patrol. But Rapp had no +men to spare for patrolling the town. There was no spirit left in +Dantzig; for typhus and starvation patrolled the narrow streets. + +They quitted the town to the north-west, near the Oliva Gate. There +was no guard-house here because Langfuhr was held by the French, and +Rapp's outposts were three miles out on the road to Zoppot. + +"I have played this game for fifty years," said Barlasch, with a low +laugh, when they reached the earthworks, completed, at such enormous +cost of life and strength, by Rapp; "follow me and do as I do. When +I stoop, stoop; when I crawl, crawl; when I run, run." + +For he was a soldier now and nothing else. He stood erect, and +looked round him with the air of a young man--ready, keen, alert. +Then he moved forward with confidence towards the high land which +terminates in the Johannesberg, where the peaceful Dantzigers now +repair on a Sunday afternoon to drink thin beer and admire the view. + +Below them on the right hand lay the marshes, a white expanse of +snow with a single dark line drawn across it--the Langfuhr road with +its double border of trees. + +Barlasch turned once or twice to make sure that Desiree was +following him; but he added nothing to his brief instructions. When +he gained the summit of the tableland which runs parallel with the +coast and the Langfuhr road, he paused for breath. + +"When I crawl, crawl. When I run, run," he whispered again; and led +the way. He went up the bed of a stream, turning his back to the +coast, and at a certain point stopped and by a gesture of the hand +bade Desiree crouch down and wait till he returned. He came back +and signed to her to quit the bed of the stream and follow him. +When she came up to the tableland, she found that they were quite +close to a camp-fire. Through the low pines she could perceive the +dark outline of a house. + +"Now run," whispered Barlasch, leading the way across an open space +which seemed to extend to the line of the horizon. Without looking +back, Desiree ran--her only thought was a sudden surprise that +Barlasch could move so quickly and silently. + +When he gained the shelter of some trees, he threw himself down on +the snow, and Desiree coming up to him found him breathlessly +holding his sides and laughing aloud. + +"We are through the lines," he gasped, "name of a dog, I was so +frightened. There they go--pam! pam! Buz . . z . . z . ." + +And he imitated the singing buzz of the bullets humming through the +trees over their heads. For half a dozen shots were fired, while he +was yet speaking, from behind the camp-fires. There were no more, +however, and presently, having recovered his breath, Barlasch rose. + +"Come," he said, "we have a long walk. En route." + +They made a great circuit in the pine-woods, through which Barlasch +led the way with an unerring skill, and descending towards the plain +far beyond Langfuhr they came out on to a lower tableland, below +which the great marshes of the Vistula stretched in the darkness, +slowly merging at last into the sea. + +"Those," said Barlasch, pausing at the edge of the slope, "those are +the lights of Oliva, where the Russians are. That line of lights +straight in front is the Russian fleet lying off Zoppot, and with +them are English ships. One of them is the little ship of Captain +d'Arragon. And he will take you home with him; for the ship is +ordered to England, to Plymouth--which is across the Channel from my +own country. Ah--cristi! I sometimes want to see my own country +again--and my own people--mademoiselle." + +He went on a few paces and then stopped again, and in the darkness +held up one hand, commanding silence. It was the churches of +Dantzig striking the hour. + +"Six o'clock," he whispered, "it will soon be dawn. Yes--we are +half an hour too early." + +He sat down, and, by a gesture, bade Desiree sit beside him. + +"Yes," he said, "the Captain told me that he is bound for England to +convoy larger ships, and you will sail in one of them. He has a +home in the west of England, and he will take you there--a sister or +a mother, I forget which--some woman. You cannot get on without +women--you others. It is there that you will be happy, as the bon +Dieu meant you to be. It is only in England that no one fears +Napoleon. One may have a husband there and not fear that he will be +killed. One may have children and not tremble for them--and it is +that that makes you happy--you women." + +Presently he rose and led the way down the slope. At the foot of +it, he paused, and pointing out a long line of trees, said in a +whisper-- + +"He is there--where there are three taller trees. Between us and +those trees are the French outposts. At dawn the Russians attack +the outposts, and during the attack we have simply to go through it +to those trees. There is no other way--that is the rendezvous. +Those three tall trees. When I give the word, you get up and run to +those trees--run without pausing, without looking round. I will +follow. It is you he has come for--not Barlasch. You think I know +nothing. Bah! I know everything. I have always known it--your poor +little secret." + +They lay on the snow crouching in a ditch until a grey line appeared +low down in the Eastern sky and the horizon slowly distinguished +itself from the thin thread of cloud that nearly always awaits the +rising of the sun in Northern latitudes. + +A minute later the dark group of trees broke into intermittent flame +and the sharp, short "Hurrah!" of the Cossacks, like an angry bark, +came sweeping across the plain on the morning breeze. + +"Not yet," whispered Barlasch, with a gay chuckle of enjoyment. +"Not yet--not yet. Listen, the bullets are not coming here, but are +going past to the right of us. When you go, keep to the left. +Slowly at first--keep a little breath till the end. Now, up! +Mademoiselle, run; name of thunder, let us run!" + +Desiree did not understand which were the French lines and which the +line of Russian attack. But there was a clear way to the three +trees which stood above the rest, and she went towards them. She +knew she could not run so far, so she walked. Then the bullets, +instead of passing to the right, seemed to play round her--like bees +in a garden on a summer day--and she ran until she was tired. + +The trees were quite close now, and the sky was light behind them. +Then she saw Louis coming towards her, and she ran into his arms. +The sound of the humming bullets was still in her dazed brain, and +she touched him all over with her gloved hand as she clung to him, +as a mother touches her child when it has fallen, to see whether it +be hurt. + +"How was I to know?" she whispered breathlessly. "How was I to know +that you were to come into my life?" + +The bullets did not matter, it seemed, nor the roar of the firing to +the right of them. Nothing mattered--except that Louis must know +that she had never loved Charles. + +He held her and said nothing. And she wanted him to say nothing. +Then she remembered Barlasch, and looked back over her shoulder. + +"Where is Barlasch?" she asked, with a sudden sinking at her heart. + +"He is coming slowly," replied Louis. "He came slowly behind you +all the time, so as to draw the fire away from you." + +They turned and waited for Barlasch, who seemed to be going in the +wrong direction with an odd vagueness in his movements. Louis ran +towards him with Desiree at his heels. + +"Ca-y-est," said Barlasch; which cannot be translated, and yet has +many meanings. "Ca-y-est." + +And he sat down slowly on the snow. He sat quite upright and rigid, +and in the cold light of the Baltic dawn they saw the meaning of his +words. One hand was within his fur coat. He drew it out, and +concealed it from Desiree behind his back. He did not seem to see +them, but presently he put out his hand and lightly touched Desiree. +Then he turned to Louis with that confidential drop of the voice +with which he always distinguished his friends from those who were +not his friends. + +"What is she doing?" he asked. "I cannot see in the dark. Is it +not dark? I thought it was. What is she doing? Saying a prayer? +What--because I have my affair? Hey, mademoiselle. You may leave +it to me. I will get in, I tell you that." + +He put his finger to his nose, and then shook it from side to side +with an air of deep cunning. + +"Leave it to me. I shall slip in. Who will stop an old man, who +has many wounds? Not St. Peter, assuredly. Let him try. And if +the good God hears a commotion at the gate, He will only shrug His +shoulders. He will say to St. Peter, 'Let pass; it is only Papa +Barlasch!'" + +And then there was silence. For Barlasch had gone to his own +people. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, BARLASCH OF THE GUARD *** + +This file should be named brls10.txt or brls10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, brls11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, brls10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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