Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 193 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

| fn came out of the CHAPTER XXXII. THE ABDICATION. Tre streets of Paris were as full of people as ever, and they seemed as gay asif the country were on the topmost wave of prosperity, though Cossacks were on guard in all the squares, and Prussian grenadiers bivouacked before the Tui- leries. The mercurial mob of Paris, that had hooted the corpse of Louis XVI., was enthusias- tic over his brother and successor, and the only dark faces to be seen in Paris were those of the wooden-legged veterans of the Hotel des Inva- lids, scowling at the invaders and muttering curses, as they watched the blonde Germans fraternizing with the shop-girls of the Faubourg St. Antoine. And through the midst of this crowd came a traveling carriage, with four smoking horses driving up to the Tuileries past the guards, who presented arms as it went by. | Yet the carriage had an imperial coronet and the letter N on the panels, and the mob hissed it as it passed. Out of the carriage got a young man in the uniform of a general of cuirassiers, and went up the steps of the Tuileries. He seemed to be expected there, for a Russian officer, flaming with gold lace, came out to greet him. “Very glad to see Monsieur the Count of Friedland, His majesty will receive you at once. You see I told you the truth at Fon- tainebleau—eh, count?’ And young Doktoroff pressed the arm he held as a signal to Gabriel, who made no an- swer but a slight sigh as he walked up the old familiar stairs that he had pressed so often. How changed now his condition! The Czar of Russia lodged in the palace, and Gabriel had come, as a suppliant for terms, to the man who, a few years before, had owed the safety of his army to the generosity of Napo- leon after the defeat of Austerlitz. — The Tuileries was full of officers, in the uni- forms of half the nations of Europe, but not a French tongue could be heard. There were sentries on every landing and corridor, and a Red Cossack of the Russian Guard paced up and down aa oa had been the cabinet of the Emperor Napoleon. And yet here it ~ = Gabriel saw his first Frenchman in the palace. The sly. ete face of oo ae a ame gree im, as the ex-mi r of Napoleon’s Stel cabinet rubbing bis and, as if well pleased, and he nodded patron- izingly to Gabriel. ‘Ah, count, glad to see you. Have you seen the king yet?” | “T have come from the emperor,” said the young general, with haughty emphasis. ‘‘ His majesty has some followers left who are not bare Sygoneey of others.” ‘¢ Eh, parbleu,” replied Fouche, with a shrug, *‘it is all one to me, king or emperor. You can keep rear place if you are not too proud to ask it. By-the-by, are you going in ¢ él He pointed over his shoulder to the door. Gabriel deigned him no answer, but followed Count Doktoroff into the cabinet, where he found sitting the Czar Alexander, the King of Prussia, Marshal Blucher, Prince Schwartzen- berg, commander of the Austrian contingent, and half a dozen other generals and princes. He had interrupted a council of war. Time was when such a galaxy of titles would have abashed Gabriel, but the need was too urgent now to allow such feeling. He drew himself up and saluted, then addressed the Czar directly: “2 ian the bearer, sire, of the reply of his majesty, the Emperor of the French, to your ne proposals, and authorized to complete the ty. The Czar looked pleased. ‘‘We are very glad to see you. It is the Count of Friedland, L. believe.” ‘* The same, sire.” “JT remember. I have seen you only twice before, but the oecasions have both been re- markable.” Then, turning to the others, he went on: ‘Gentlemen, this is the Count of Friedland, envoy of our cousin, the nese oeeem He is ono of the hardest chargers in Europe, and my Cossacks are actually afraid of him.” ' And what does the count bring?’ asked the ‘tones of old Blucber. ‘“* Your majesty nows we are agreed that this man must go. , He has troubled us too long.” Gabriel’s eyes flashed and he could not help retorting: “The marshal has not forgotten old times, I see. I, too, remember Ratkan.”’ Old Blucher wy pink. - He had been obliged to surrrender his whole army to the cavalry : the Guard at Ratkan, after the battle of ena. . ** Perhaps you were there,” he said. ‘‘T was, marshal; and we did not in our negotiations stigmatize the King of Prussia as e that man,’” Blucher said no more, and the Czar, with his Usual kindness, interposed: ‘‘ Never mind. You have brought an answer | that esis. he hardly ? to our offers, count?” . | | a ee —szsaslltlllillititlsilltttt tt TL LLL LLL LL LLL LLL LLL LLL LLL - The Man in Red. desirous of making peace.” --+- + SSE satelite eee ae 23 “T have come to treat, sire. His majesty is | vant that she had taken the little count fora drive in the forest, and that Casse Tete would ‘*We cannot make peace with him, save on | officiate as coachman. the terms of his abdication,” said the King of Prussia, firmly. believe, my brother.” ‘‘ Entirely,” responded Alexander, gravely. ‘‘ Then,” said Gabriel, rather pale, but speak- ing very distinctly, ‘‘may 1 ask what your majesties offer my master?” ‘* A safe retreat in the Island of Elba, witha ' | civil list of two million francs a year, guaran- | @ al | wars were over, and he was thinking, in the teed by us, and the privilege of a battalion of guards,” said the Czrr. ** And is that your ultimatum?” “It is. If .hbe refuses, the armies march on Fontainebleau at once.” ‘*Then,” said Gabriel, quietly, ‘‘I have the honor, in his majesty’s, name to say that, in order to save France from the further effusion of blood, he abdicates his crown and accepts the terms. Here is the instrument.” And he handed to the Czar the lon in which lay the little document of six lines which changed the fate of Europe. A deep silence fell on the little group of mon- archs and marshals as the Czar opened the mis- sive; and then Gabriel became aware that some over his shoulder with an eager intentness that was excessively rude. The face of this person was thin and pale, and a look of demoniac joy distorted it. It was General Grupisch, as Gabriel had heard him called; and there was no mistaking the spirit in which he scanned the abdication. It was with triumph, fierce, melenens and un- s ring: a look that made Gabriel shudder with envelope | So Gabriel was all alone in the gloomy old ‘‘We are agreed on that, I | chateau, that day, with no company but a few maid servants, who chattered in remote parts of the building, while their masters and mis- tresses had gone to Paris to pay their court to the king, and try and secure a longer lease of life in their free quarters at the palace. He had doffed his uniform now, for he con- sidered himself no longer in the army. The gloomiest frame of mind possible to imagine, over the future. It all seemed very dark, He had become so used to military life that he knew no other way of making a living, and his commission as a general was now worthless, The regiments were retained in the service, it was true, for France needed an army, even in time of peace; for the marshals and generals, in those early days, did not know what was to be- come of them, and Gabriel was one of those too _ proud to ask. He was thinking to himself, as he sat in his arm-chair, brooding, that he bad a few thou- sand francs saved trom his pay, and that he _would have to liveon it as best he could. If one behind the Russian emperor was looking | they turned him out of the old palace, the might doit. He would not ask to be retain And Casse Tete; what was to become of his faithful old comrade and orderly? He could no longer afford to pay bim wages. His horse, too, must be sold; old Cosaque, that he had captured from the Russian colonel in the fog before Austerlitz, and had ridden in every bat- tle since. **Poor Cosaque!” he said aloud, as he rose when every one else in the room, even | from his chair to pace the floor, as if to esca to old Blucher, seemed to feel the solemnity of the occasion. | from his thoughts. ‘‘I’d better sell thee toa Russian before they leave France, so that thou But the Czar read the paper aloud without | mayest die on thy native soil,” noticing anything, and the meeting broke up in joyful confusion, in the midst of which Alex- — said, courteously, to Gabriel, taking bim aside: ** Allis well that ends well. I have a very stron rsonal regard for his majesty, and should like to have saved him his throne, but my allics were inflexible on that point. It is, after all,a compliment to his genius. We are afraid of him. But we have seen to it that those, like yourself, who faithfully served France under his orders, shall not suffer. I shall take great pleasure in introducing you to the King of France, my brother, and asking him to provide for your future.” Gabriel bowed gratefully. ‘*T shall be very thankful, sire: for, in truth, I had but my pay to live on, and the abdication laces me outside of the service. But I must first go back to the emperor. Remember that he is all alone now, sire.” The Czar nodde avely. “You are faithful, | see. You would make a good officer-to any man you loved. I wish I bad you in my service, count.” ‘*] should be proud to join it, sire, for your men are now the best soldiers in Europe, But my duty lies in poor France.” ‘I respect your choice. But remember this, count. If ever the time comes that you are forced to leave France for your fidelity to the emperor, come to St. Petersburg to me, and I will see to it you don’t repent the visit. And to remind you of the offer, take this and wear it in memory of a gentleman who loves fidelity.” And the Czar took from his breast the dia- mond star of the order of St. Michael, and pinned it on Gabriel’s breast. Then the young man left the Tuileries, and, for the last time, drove to Fontainebleau to see the emperor. ° But the empire was ended, CHAPTER XXXITITI. THE PASSAGES AGAIN, A WEEK had passed, the emperor had gone. To Gabriel, sitting alone in the deserted cha- teau of Fontainebleau, brooding over what had happened, the past ten years seemed like a dream. The brilliant panorama of the empire, the days when he had stood sentry at the Pavilion of Diana at Versailles; the rapid whirl of poli- <i tL CL LL LLL LLL LLL LLL LLL tics and war amid which he had won his wife; | the thunderclaps of victory that had success- ively startled Europe from Austerlitz to Wag- ram, And now all had vanished. ‘The tri-color was | | e strolled sadly out toward the stable to look at the faithful old charger, and Cosaque turned his bead and whinnied a welcome to his master, as gayly as if he were yet a three years’ colt, instead of a sober charger of twelve win- ters. Gabriel stroked the g neck fondly. ‘* Not to-day, Cosaque. e don’t march an more, my horse. Eat the oats while they : for bitter days are coming for us.” Cosaque did not seem to mind the changes of politics as long as his manger was full; but he whinnied again as he looked out of the stable door into the sunshine. It was the end of April, and the birds were building their nests amon the cherry blossoms, and Coseaque had been in the stable for more than two weeks now, since the mud campaign had closed. He wanted to get out, but his master only said gocthingsy: ‘‘Not to-day, Cosaque, not to-day. Iam in no mood for a ride. old horse.” And then he left the stable and wandered ne oP the tomes in the a wa rooding over rospects and feeling a swell- ing in his throat that would not down, He wandered through the dark corridors till he came to a place where familiar memories struck him. It was the place where The Man in Red had ap d to the emperor. e remembered the warning: ‘* Five years more, and thou shalt be a isoner on a rock in the ocean.” pris ‘‘ And that was in 1810” he muttered; “and now it is only four years, and yet he is virtu- ally a prisoner. How could he have known so well what was coming? He told the emperor he would see him in Moscow, and he did. How could he know he would go there?. Who is this man that hates him so virulently? How comes he to know the future, and what relation does he hold to me? He said we were kinsmen. And he is, I think, the son of the Marquise de St. Jean. No woman ever ventured so much for any man, if he were not either her lover or her son. , Brooding over these thoughts, in which be hardly took any further active intevest, it oc- curred to him, in mere idle curiosity to try th secrets of the bidden passages of the slanamend trace out the way that The Man in ‘must have come, | He tried the different doors, into room after room, concealed by the panels, and began to take an interest in the facility thus offered him _ for examining the older portions of this medie- val retreat of the kings of France. At last, by accident as it were, be opened a door that led, not into a room but a secret pas- furled forever as it seemed, and the pale flag ' sage, and thought to himself that he would ex- which Frenchmen had learned to despise as the | symbol of corruption, oligarchy and cowardice, floated over the Tuileries and was hanging from every window in France, in honor of the entry of Louis X VIII. on his duties. And Gabriel was all ulone that day. The army had been disbanded, the emperor had departed for the scene of his exile, and the Count of Friedland was not one of the gentile- men designated to accompany him. And even his wife ha gone away from him new where, for she leaving word for him had d by a ser- plore it. ‘ Unlike the passage in which he had found General Grupisch, s0 ed, this one had no steps, but went on a level through the heart of the palace, and very soon ended in a sloping descent, quite dark, and leading into the bowels of the earth, under the foundations, ‘This was the st anne in,” thought the oung man. ‘' Wo ad only persevered ae ant found it out.” ~ Then he remembered why he had not. The emperor had forbidden it. “There is some strange mystery still,” he Ghoo <eolm So(GO) wes util