Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 193 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

20 The Man in Red. hell-hole alive I would not rest till I had rid France of the scourge that afflicted her, playing the pranks of a king witb the manners of a grocer.” He stopped to wipe his forehead, and Gabriel asked him then: ‘* And how did you ors at last?” *‘Nature aided me. The agony in which I ‘was burst out of my forehead in a bloody sweat, and I was able to move. I braced my knees against the lid of the coffin and forced it out easily, for it only bad four light screws, and then I knew I was saved. I was still dressed as I had been, and I remembered that I had a tin- der-box in my pocket. I struck a light, found where I was, and had the pleasure of reading my own coffin plate. It was then that the idea struck me that henceforth I was safe in France. My death established, I eae be walk past the po- lice with no other danger than that of b ing re- marked on as a very striking likeness, if I could only procure the burial of that coffiv.” ‘* And how did you do it?” ‘Easily enough. I weighted the coffin with earth and stones, put back the lid and all was safe there.” ‘But how did you get out of the vault?” ‘* Waited till the morning, when it was opened by the men coming for my own funeral, and then I hid away behind some coffins and came out to mingle with the crowd.” ‘But did no one ye has you?” ‘How could they? I was unknown, save in the Republican uniform, as you saw me at Moscow—” “Then if was you we saw? How did you manage that deception?” ‘‘Tt is not so difficult in these days. Never mind how I didit. It was done. I listened to ' my own funeral service, and heard the people speak of me. It is an experience that does not fall to every man. Since then I have kept my secret. But since then also, I have begun my revenge oa the man who murdered my name and left me, before the péople of France, in the light of a traitor, too cowardly to meet his fate. Do you know what the Moniteur said about me?” “T have heard of it, but I never read it, nor knew to whom it referred.” “Others have, and I am cursed with the name which will go down tu history as a sui- cide.” ‘‘Then why not announce yourself now and belie the report?’ ‘Who would believe it? Ishould be styled an impostor, trading on a resemblance. He has willed that I should be dead. Very well. To the world I will be dead. But he knows better. He knows who [I am and dare not reveal it. To do so would be to seal his own shame. He knows that his own agents stran- led me, and he thought I was dead till he ound I was alive, when I saw him in Moscow. For seven years I have haunted him and defied his power to find me. Now my turn has come, Tt is too late for him even to search my grave. When he reaches France it will be as a man without power, surrounded by enemies, and my triumph lies in the fact that he knows J am the br’ 1s of the coalition against him,” There was a singular air of exaltation about this singular man, as he thus spoke, that caused a sudden suspicion to creep through the mind of the young general. Hoe began to suspect the sanity of his companion, and to see in him a monomaniac. Whether he wore, or not, if was plain to Gabriel that the man had suffered a great bie at the hands of the emperor, and that he coul 7 pursue his quarrel with honor to him- self. The stranger ceased his story and began to pace up and down again, like a wild beast ina cage till he stopped and said roughly: ‘Well, you have heard. Do you still wish to compel me to fight you?” ‘‘ You have told me that you are my kins- man, general, and that bars our quarrel any further.” , “Good. Some day, when the lilies wave over France, I will tell you wholam, Till then, be silent on what [ have said. You may yet have reason to thank the fates that made mo a relative.” ‘* And the princess. Does she know?” ‘The princess is my sister,” *‘ Will you tell me where I saw her in France? I am sure I did.” ‘‘T will. She was in Paris as my agent and that of our people, under the name of Camille Lenormand.” ‘“Camille Lenormand!” And Gabriel’s mind went back like a flash to the night, three years before, when he and the emperor had made their pilgrimage in the Faubourg St. Antoine, and had stumbled on the fortune-teller’s house. How absurd her predictions had seemed to him then, and how different they seemed now. He was recalled from his reverie by the voice of the general, who said: ““T am going to bid you farewell, I leave Vienna to-night. When you see the usurper, tell him you saw me and watch his face. Good- night.” — a Sn a CHAPTER XXVIII. HOME AGAIN. THE autumn leaves were falling in the old forest of Fontainebleau, that year, when a lady, walking in the garden of the palace and watching a child at play, looked up at the sound of horses’ hoofs and uttered a scream of sur- prise and joy as she recognized the figures of two riders. The foremost wore a general’s uniform and rode a:black horse, the other was a cuirassier, his orderly. The lady screamed out: abriel, look, look, it is papa af last! Oh, mon Dieu !” And then, like a regular woman, sbe turned faint and would have fallen had not her hus- yo leaped off his horse and run up to support er. As for the child, a sturdy boy of five, he stood staring at the two men as if he had never seen them before, and the grim old cuirassier threw up his handsin astonishment, crying: “Ts it possible? The little count has not for- gotten old Casse Tete surely.” And then the youngster stared at him harder than ever, and finally ran to bim, screaming: ““Casse Tete, Casse Tete, put me on the horse, put me on the horse!” The old soldier was delighted. He caught up the boy in hisarmsand hugged him violently, while something very like a tear stole down his scarred old cheeks, and his voice resembled that of a raven as he muttered: ‘‘The little count knows me? Heis the gen- eral over again! Eh, mon Dieu, how he has grown and what curls!” It was pretty to see the contrast between the happy child, with his bright curls, and the scarred and wrinkled face of the rugged old cuirassier, and to note the perfect love, harmony and confidence that existed between them, as nd soon as the child recognized him. He pulled the long white mustache and put his little hands up to pat the rough old cheek, and never so much as noticed his father all the time, so wrapped up was he in his old dry nurse and horse, the ancient Casse Tete. ‘‘ And where bast thou been all this time?” he prattled on. ‘‘I’ve had noone to give me rides since thou went away, Casse Tete; for mamma, she cries, and cries, and 1 don’t have any fun any more, Oh how loug it bas been! Put me on the horse, Casse Tete.’ The veteran obeyed muttering: = AY, ay, how long! nearly two years now.” And so it was. The day that Gabriel and Casse Tete left Fontainebleau,in the early spring of 1812 was their last adieu to home for eighteen months, and now it was late October of the next year. And little Gabriel had nearly forgotten his father and Casse Tete in that long absence, But with the true happy selfishness of a child he only thought of his own little pleasures now and was so taken up with the horses and their glittering trappings that he paid no heed to father or mother, till he heard a voice saying: ‘* And has Gabriel forgotten papa?” Then he looked up and saw his mother still weeping hysterically for joy on the breast of her tall, handsome husband, and little Gabriel nodded consequentially and replied; ‘No, papa, I have not forgotte I have to manage this horse, an bothered kissing anybody.” This little saucy speech caused Casse Tete to double up with admiration as he said to his master: ‘Ts it not wonderful, my general? Such a spirit! Such a flow of language. Ah, he was born to bea colonel of cuirassiers. The Death’s Heads can never refuse him. See how he has picked up the curbreins. Hoa! Cosaque, hoa!” For the big black horse feeling the tiny strength of the child on thecurb bit was back- ing into a flower bed and in danger of rearing, so that the end of it was that Master Gabriel had to give up the reins and be content with the saddle for a perch, from which he gracious- ly kissed papa and told him: ‘‘T am glad you have come back; for it is so stupid to hai a mamma that does nothing but cry all the time.” ‘And does mamma cry all the time?” asked Gabriel, fondly stroking the raven hair of his beautiful young wife. ‘* Always, papa, almpys, and then she reads the papers, and they make her cry more. Tell me, papa, is the emperor a butcher now; does he peep a shop?’ ; ‘“What makes you ask that, my child?” said his father, curiously. ‘Because Madame St. Jean was saying to mamma the other day that he was onlv a butcher after all, who was up to his knees in blood.” “Hush! Gabriel,” said the mother, with an anxious glance at her husband, on whose face a shadow had fallen, ‘‘ hush. Little boys should not talk so much,” “But you know she said so,” persisted the child, ‘and you got angry with her. And I e up my mind to ask papa when he came home if it was true. Does the emperor keep 4 butcher shop, papa?” but you see I can’t be “No, hastily. into the house, Inez, long to be together.” She turned pale. ‘‘ What! are you going away again?” And Gabriel set up a shout: ‘You sha’n’t go, you sha’n’t. I won’t have it. All the other children have papas, and I want one too!” ‘See, my little count,” interposed Casse Tete, dexterously, ‘**Cosaque wants to go to the stable. Shall we not go?” I will show you how to take off a saddle and we'll feed the horses.” So Gabriel the less was comforted and forgot everything else in the superior interest of the horses, while Gabriel senior walked to the house, bis arm round his wife. She had watched him closely from the mo- ame he bad ridden up, and now she said, ondly: **Oh, mon cher, how I have missed thee! [ have watched and watched the Moniteur, and I cannot understand it all, Every day a vic- tory for our people, and yet they keep on fight- ing those detestable Germans and Russians. And they have such hard names to their places. But it seems to me, mon cher, that this war lasts a long time. Thou wert not in earnest that thou must go again, Gabriel?’ He looked at her sadly. *Inez, ma belle, evil days are coming for France. My father fell on French soil when I was a child, and since that day no enemy has invaded us. We have fought our battles in the enemy’s country, and lived on bim,” ‘* And is it not so still, mon cher? We heard that the emperor was at Dresden, and surely the Emperor of Austria will not aid the enemies of his son-in-law.” ‘‘ Inez, the emperor was at Berlin in the my child, no,” answered Gabriel, ‘‘Madame was only joking. Come Alas, we have not very spring. From thence he fell back to Dresden. rom thence to the Elbe. Now he is—in France!” ‘*In France!” ‘Yes; but not for long. Did you not hear that we had fought at Leipsic?”’ ‘*We heard that there was to be a battle there, but since then news does not come,” The battle was lost. The Grand Army, as- sailed two to one, was nearly destroyed. There are not sixty thousand men left, including the Old Guard, and the enemy are coming, two hundred thousand strong, to cross the Rhine.” She turned pale and clung to his arm, ‘* And yuu; you need not go, need you? There are enough to fight without you.” ‘“T must go, Inez. The emperor gave me leave to visit you, but that is all. We have to raise fresh levies, to arm them, to hurry them to the frontiers.” ‘* But winter is coming. They do not move in the winter, do they?” She asked the question hopefully, for a sol- Sore wife learns much of the routine of camp e. ‘*Not often; but sometimes they do. The battle of Eylau was fought in a snow-storm, and my poor old Death’s Heads have cause to remember it. Thank heaven for the winter, however. It will give us time to pre But I shall be away a long time. bi , reassure thyself, ma belle. There will be no beavy fight- ing till next year, I think.” ‘But thou will be away. Ah, Gabriel, let me go with thee.” ‘And the child, ma belle, what of him? No, no, Inez. It is my place to fight and suffer for France one way; thine to suffer in another. But we both must suffer, The cup must be drank.” She burst out sobbing. ‘*Oh, mon cher, mon cher. I cannot bear it much longer. The emperor is a great man, but he has brought evil days on France. Ten years of battles, to end in this at last!” “ It is the will of Heaven,” he answered, sadly. ‘‘T wish I knew what it would end in, Inez, but I fear in the worst. The cowardly Royalists are raising up their heads again, since the proclamation,’ ‘“‘ What proclamation?” “True, they have not dared publish it in Franee. The allies have declared that they war only on the Emperor Napoleon, not on France, They call him the Usurper. That means that they wish to restore the Bourbons to the throne.” Inez started. “Then that is the reason St. Jean is growing so insolent again.” ‘“TIndeed. What is she doing?” “Doing. Sbe has made her apartments a meeting place for numbers of men that any one can see are Royalists. They are thin and shabby in dress; but they have the polite manners of the old noblesse.” Gabriel compressed his lips. ‘‘She does, does she? She plots treason in the rooms provided by the’ emperor’s bounty. We will see to that.” “What are you about to do?’ asked Inez, in alarm, as he started toward the palace. ‘To see madame,” he answered. <€om ‘SS (E JOO (E()