Beadle's Dime Library No. 157 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

~— | | | | | ‘ —— a ee ae eee ee ee a ee SS iL .* v fn i is op ee te 8 “ —e_ — Pos i=’? — me ~<a, dn ae FE Sins Pe ee - =* at i a) 3 q —- 14 errr rrr ee ee late, and Monsieur Rewbell has gone to collect them.’ The other laughed and said: ‘ They are always late. Hehasa way of stopping at Fon- tainebleau that costs the nation a g deal of money.’ That was all, but putting it together with what I had seen and heard on the way from Marseilles, 1 came to the conclusion that this Rewbell is systematically plundering the treasury, and that he passes through Fontaine- bleau, where he has a house in the town, to hide bis plunder and make his accounts straight.” ‘But the others must suspect.” ‘‘Of course same idea.”’ Here Mourad, who had been silent all the way, burst out: “Oh, France! What a state she is in. It seems as if robbery were the rule, honesty the 5m ak ‘‘ And so it will be until the general comes back,” said St. George gloomily. ‘‘ But we at least have only taken our own. Now comes the question, where shall we go, and what shall we ao?” ‘*T am in favor of going back to Egypt,” said Mourad decidedly. ‘‘ We shall be with the general there.” ‘*I, on the contrary,” observed Lafangere, ‘‘am determined to go to Paris, and wait for bim till he comes.” ‘““ Why?” asked St. George. ‘‘Because in Paris a man who has a good head and a stout body can always live, and we can do what we promised Madame la Gen- eralesse, help her and watch over ber interests,” ‘‘Tam in favor of Lafangere’s plan,” put in the creole. ‘‘In Paris we are near the central government, and can find the opinions of the people. 1 amof opinion that this state of things can only end in one way.” ‘‘ And what is that?’ asked Mourad quickly. ‘“‘In the restoration of the king?’ ‘“No, no, the French people -need no kings. We need the best man in the world, and he is General Bonaparte.” Mourad shrugged his shoulders. ‘*On my word, you seem to idolize this Gen- eral Bonaparte.” ‘*So will you, some day. He is the only man who can put France at the head of Europe.” Lafangere turned away impatiently. “Will ne two always talk this tiresome politics? I will tell you what is more to the urpose. You, St. George, are always on the ook-out for news, but you have missed what will serve us better than anything else.” ‘* And what is that?” ‘There is to be a grand meeting of the sword- masters in Paris in three weeks from to-mor- row, and the Directors are to give prizes for saber ani rapier. I, for one, intend to be there.” Mourad brightened up. ‘‘ For the saber, you say?’ ‘* Yes, there isa long list of prizes, and one for the best feats with the saber on horseback.” The Mameluke turned to St. George with animation and exclaimed: ‘* Let Sy ma once. We three can win the best prizes between us, and after that our future is secure, till the general comes back. I am, it is true, in favor of the king, if we can get him; as Lafangere, here, is in favor of the Republic, without Directors: but. we three can unite in one thing at least.” ‘And what is that?’ asked the Gascon in a doubrful sort of tone. ‘In serving the general till we can get our own way, and in advancing our own interests by sticking together.” ‘Mourad is right,” said St. George in a decided tone. ‘‘ Together we can do anything, but, if we quarrel, we are nowhere. Let us agree to drop political ideas save one, to stick together till the general comes, And now let us go to Paris, for our purses are full once more. CHAPTER XV, MONSIEUR ST. GEORGE. THE season of 1798-0 was as (fey as usual in Paris. What mattered it that French had lost the Italy won for them by Bona ; that the barbarous Russians of Suwarrow had driven the veterans of Montenotte and Lodi back into Provence; that Germany was menacing the Republic; that the treasury was empty and the State in debt a hundred millions; that bandits swarmed on the high-roads, while footpads demanded purses pl the shadow of Notre Dame: so long as the Directors received their salaries and there was money for the entertain- ments at the Tuileries? Paris was as gay as ever, and the balls of the Directory still gayer. To be sure, under the surface of gayety a great deal of trouble was gathering, and it was thickest of all in Paris, then, as now, center of the nation. It culminated in the clubs, for Paris has always had clubsever since the Revolution of '93 which was made by the clubs. France was div with a small third one, that kept very quict and was looked on with contempt by the others, and probably they share in the | plunder. So Lresolved to try our chance with | monsieur, and it seems that others have the | _ out the second party. ee nt —EEE ded into two great parties, Mourad, the Mameluke. though it turned out in the end to have a whole people behind it. The first party was the Reds, the men of °93 who regretted the abolition of the ever-present —,, of that year, and believed in the ivine right of the people of Paris, as repre- sented by any mob that could be gathered in an hour or two, to change the government of all France at the point of the pike whenever they pleased. These people had been quiet since the cele- brated Revolt of the Sections, when the young general of artillery had mowed them down with his grape-shot, but, now that he was away in Egypt, they began talk of sounding the tocsin again and reviving the guillotine to crush This second party was composed of people who had lost social position and property in the Revolution, nobles, priests, people with a ‘‘ de” to their names, and a good many tradesmen who wanted a court again. Since the return of law and order, this party had risen to consider- able importance, and its boldness had increased so far that that the gentlemen even put white cockades in their hats, a proceeding that would ave insured them the guillotine five years be- ore. But the Directory, being in favor of law and order, permitted no Red Republican to drag any white cockade he pleased before a tribunal] of safety. And moreover the Tribunal of Safety had been abolished. So that the Whites and Reds had to be con- tent with scowling at each other and seeking every pretext to indulge in duels. The spread of dueling was assisted by the Red and the White clubs, which met in every quar- ter of Paris, in numbers of from fifty to a hun- dred people in each club. The gentlemen with white cockades went to their clubs to drink champagne and Burgundy, while they sung, ‘‘ Oh, Ri hard! oh,mon roi!” and other royalist airs. They were all well- dressed and bad money. The men of the Red clubs drank vin ordi- naire at ten cents a bottle, and bellowed the ‘* Marseillaise,” ‘‘ Ca [ra,” and other like melo- dies under the windows of the ‘‘ Whites ” when- ever the patrol was coming down the street. By this means they accomplished two objects. They irritated the ‘‘ Whites ” and prevented re- taliation at the time for fear of the patrol. The Marseillaise was still a legal air and “* Richard, oh, mon roi!” was not. But they could not prevent single encounters between hot-blooded members, and in fact that was just what they wanted to provoke. Outside the barriere Montmartre there were affairs daily, at sunrise and sunset, and, when ps ae was at the full, they kept them up all night. hey had these affairs with all sorts of wea- pons, and between all sorts of people; for the ‘ Whites ” had ceased to be squeamish on the subject of blood in any sense. A duke of the old peerage, if he felt himself able, would fight a butcher with the cleavers fresh from the slaughter-house. It reminded one of the days when knights fought with battle-axes, onlyfthese modern com- batants had no armor and the contests were more sanguinary. . But, after all, the usual weapons were small swords, because the Reds did not like to be taunted with inability to use the weapon of the aristocrat, and in that they were just as good men as the others in every r t. m which cause a great many Reds bit the dust beyond the barrier; for, as a matter of fact, they were not as good swordsmen as the “Whites.” During this winter the third party of which we have made mention kept very quiet. _ Many people did not know that it existed at all; for no one acknowledged openly that he be- longed to it. is was the party that looked to the return of General Bonaparte for a solution of all the troubles under which France groaned. So far as known, only one man in Paris belong- ed to this party, and he was a creole, who was frequently seen at the public festivals of the Directory in attendance on Madame Bonaparte. Poor thing! In those days the creole was about the po attendant she had, for every one in office or who hung on the skirts of office look- ed coldly at her, or pretended not to see her. Neverthele:s this gentleman was as faithful and devoted in his attentions as if she had been an eampress and he her chamberlain. He went by the name of Monsieur St. George, was exceedingly handsome; lived, no one knew how; dressed with simple elegance, and was said to be a great favorite with Mademoiselle Claire Rewbell, daughter of the Director who was certain to go out in the autumn and who was privately said to be feathering his nest be- fore leaving in view of that contingency. Mademoiselle Claire and the rents gentleman were always together when the latter was not attending on ame Bonaparte, and people said she was a fool to bestow so much time on one who might possibly have been rich before the St. Domingo troubles, but whose estates 2? eee eee eee eee ee mr ee — were certainly deserts, now that the slaves were all set free and would not work. However, Monsieur St. George went on the even tenor of his way, and seemed, somehow, to have wound himself inte the good graces of Rewbell senior, with whom he actually went, on more than one occasion, in his own carriage traveling to Dijon. In fact it was whispered in some quarters that Monsieur St. George was a police spy or a des- perado whom Monsieur Rewbell hired to pro- tect him on his journeys to Dijon, in the notori- ously unsafe condition of the roads outside of Paris. However that might be, Monsieur St. George was the only man in Paris—in society that is— who openly proclaimed that he believed Gen- eral Bonaparte would yet return from Egypt, and that,in such an event, the people would certainly elect him a Director, if not Dictator of France for life. And though a good many people would have liked to strangle St. George for saying this, no one ventured to try the operation, for this creole had the reputation of being mauwvais homme—a bad man to handle. One evening in the month of August, 1799,the Directory had an unusually brillant fete, and Madame Bonaparte had come as usual with her cavalier, though she looked very pale and languid, and took refuge on a couch in an alcove of the grand saloon. ‘Do not let me keep you,” she said in a low tone to her escort, who lingered near. ‘ Find Claire and tell her to come to me. Imust know if this news is true.” ‘‘T have told you it is impossible, madame,” he answered in’ the same tone. “The general is not a fool, to rush to the assault of a petty town like a common soldier.” ‘“Yet he led a charge at Arcola,” she whis- pered, very pale, “That was different. The Austrians had us, and it was life or death to break them. But here isa petty Turkish town that any cflicer of grenadiers can assault, and which is not import- ant in any sense to the army. I will stake my life, madame, that this report is only a mali- cious lie, invented by the Directors to answer their hopes.” ‘* At least seek Claire,” she urged. ‘1 shall feel easier.” He bowed and went across the ball-room to where Claire de Rewbell, ber pretty face dimpled with smiles, sat playing with her fan and listening to the nonsense of a fair-haired young man called Bottot, secretary to Barras, one of the Directors, and watching the advance of the creole. A look of intelligence between the tall hand- some creole and the lady passed like a flash, and Mademoiselle Claire said archly : ‘* Now, Monsieur Bottot, I am going to ask you the greatest of all favors.” The young gentleman jumped up, eager and alert, in a moment, ‘*It is done, mademoiselle. What is it?’ “It is to leave me,” ‘“* Ah, you are cruel!” ‘“‘Only to take a message for me.” ‘‘That is different. To whom?” ‘‘To Madame Bonaparte.” Bottot’s countenance fell. ‘** 1 don’t like Madame Sey pew . o* Then you don’t like me,for I positively adore er. Bottot made a grimace. ‘ ” er ey out of favor. One loses caste ys ng er. Claire’s eyes flasbed. ‘““Enough, monsieur. You are speaking of an dearest friend.” ottot looked sulky. “Well,” he said, hesitatingly, ‘I will, of course, take the message if you wish it, but I don’t like to do it in this ball-room. To be frank; mademoiselle, if Monsieur Barras sees me, I shall get a scolding.” Well, and can you not stand a scolding for my sake?” she asked archly, at which the young man, entirely subdued, murmured: “1 would do anything for you. What is the message?” ‘* Tell madame simply this: the news is false. That is all.” ‘** But what news?’ ‘*That is no affair of vours. When a lady honors you with a commission, it is for you to execute it without askin estions.” Bottot bowed rather coldly, but went off, and St. George, who had been watching this little comedy from a short distance off, came up and observed quietly : ‘* You seem to be in trouble with our young friend, mademoiselle. Does he begin to chafe at the curb, or is it the spur that he needs?” Claire looked down at the floor. ‘“*T don’t know,” she murmured, “if I am not a fool to take so much trouble on your account when you show me so plainly that it is all trouble in vain.” He took a seat beside her with the easy grace of a privileged person, and asked: ‘What is the matter now‘ Have any of these people been inventing stories about me to tease you?’ (CG S €om 200 com