Stories with a Vengeance — page 118: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

116 THE SPECTRE OF THE STRAND. of Arras, in Normandy) there had hkewise been performed a burial — Evremond’s father having that morning been laid away among the ashes of his forefathers. . Guillaume Napoleon De Mouvrier had been one of France’s bravest and most chivalrous soldiers under that quondam idol of French militaires, the great Bonaparte. It was in Arras, his native town, whilst quelling some disorders there, that he first met the only woman he ever loved, and whom he used to call his “ lovely Adéle.” There was a mystery enveloping this bright-eyed blonde which he never could solve, but, to the hour of his death, he believed in her and loved her with a doting fondness. "Twas a strange circumstance that made them acquainted with each other. A not had occurred in the town, and the ring- leaders, with several prominent followers, had been arrested. Several of De Mou- vrier’s soldiers had been shot dead, many more wounded, and the guillotine or life- long labour at the Bagnes was the punish- ment which awaited the ringleaders in order to serve as a terrible example. Early on the morning of the trial De Mouvrier, who was chief 1n command, was informed that a young lady desired the honour of an audience with him. The officer replied testily that he could not be seen. : “Let her forward in writing the parti- culars of her business, and I shall attend to it n due course.” He had scarcely spoken when a tumult of voices was heard outside the door, and a girl of almost dazzling beauty, her light golden hair flying in gorgeous disorder over her shoulders, rushed into the room, evad- ing a soldier who endeavoured to stop her, and fell upon her knees at the feet of De Mouvrier, weeping bitterly. She wrung her hands and sobbed out, piteously, “ Mercy, Monsieur le Capitame— mercy !” “What is the meaning of all this ?”’ cried Colonel De Mouvrier, surveying with sus- picion the sergeant and the soldiers, who respectfully stood awaiting orders. ‘ Who’s the sentry on duty ?” “I regret to say, colonel,” replied the sergeant, humbly, * that Gaudet, the sentry, permitted this young woman to approach him, because she professed to be desirous of asking a question. When he turned for a moment to see that no one else was near, the girl rushed past him, and, although accord- ing to orders he called out that he would fire, she continued to run across the court- yard likeadeer. He will be reprimanded, colonel; but, as he says, suddenly remem- Google bering his own sister, he grounded his musket.” “Oh, please don’t punish the sentry, Monsieur De Mouvrier!” the weeping girl pleaded, in moving accents. “ ”I'was not his fault; it was mine alone. He never saw me before, I am sure; and he has a good heart, and is a brave man, and if he was captain he would, I am sure, release my poor Andre. Will you not release him, monsieur P You must,or I shall die here at your feet!” De Mouvrier frowned as terribly as tie veriest fiend on earth ever frowned on woman, before or since. “ Leave the room!” he roared to ser- geant soldiers. “Standing gapingthere! I might have been assassinated long before any one of you could have prevented it! Place another sentry on duty, and send Gaudet here under arrest. Let the guard wait outside. This matter will have to be inquired into at once. Go!” There is no doubting the fact that Colonel De Mouvrier did inquire into the cause of the young lady’s grief most patiently and searchingly, for when Gaudet, the sentry, related his experiences of bis expected reprimand, he used to tell it thus :— “Colonel De Mouvrier, after I had stood quite fifteen minutes trembling with anx. i1ety under arrest (for I would sooner face a blazing battery than the gallant colonel when he was angry), I say, Colonel Mou- vrier opened the door himself, and in a stern voice, but with a most serene counte- nance, called out, ‘Let Prisoner Gaudet enter.’ “Upon entering, there sat young miss smiling through a couple of tears—there wasn’t more than one in each eye, I'll swear —and they were tears of joy. “* Gaudet,’ she began, quite pertly. ‘But Colonel De Mouvrier stiffened up a little and interrupted her. ““* When next you are placed on sentry, my man, beware of permitting young ladies to approach you too closely, particularly whilst the populace is in such a state of ferment. Miss here has obtained your pardon, after a considerable amount of opposition on my part, as you may guess. Conduct the young lady to the gate.’”’ The next morning four citizens who had taken part in the riots wereshot. Two were sentenced to ten years’ service in the galleys. One only was discharged with a severe reprimand. That young man was doomed by a strange fatality to be the assassin of his benefactor and the remorse- less enemy of Evremond, his only son! Shortly after the foregoing incident, Colonel De Mouvrier and Adéle Lablanche, @ © = a JOO S CO)