The Companions of Jehu, Alexandre Dumas [great books of all time .txt] 📗
- Author: Alexandre Dumas
- Performer: -
Book online «The Companions of Jehu, Alexandre Dumas [great books of all time .txt] 📗». Author Alexandre Dumas
“If a cannon ball doesn’t take off that Big Round Head, it will roll far, I warrant you.”
The name clung to Cadoudal—a name by which, five centuries earlier, the lords of Malestroit, Penhoël, Beaumanoir and Rochefort designated the great Constable, whose ransom was spun by the women of Brittany.
“There’s the Big Round Head,” said they; “now we’ll exchange some good sword-play with the English.”
Unfortunately, at this time it was not Breton sword-thrusts against English, but Frenchmen against Frenchmen.
Georges remained in Vendée until after the defeat of Savenay. The whole Vendéan army was either left upon the battlefield or vanished in smoke. For three years, Georges had performed prodigies of valor, strength and dexterity; he now crossed the Loire and reentered Morbihan with only one man left of all who had followed him.
That man became his aide-de-camp, or rather his brother-in-arms. He never left him, and in memory of the hard campaign they had made together he changed his name from Lemercier to Tiffauges. We have seen him at the ball of the Victims charged with a message to Morgan.
As soon as Cadoudal returned to his own part of the country, he fomented insurrection on his own responsibility. Bullets respected that big round head, and the big round head justified Stofflet’s prediction. He succeeded La Rochejacquelin, d’Elbée, Bonchamp, Lescure, even Stofflet himself, and became their rival for fame, their superior in power; for it happened (and this will give an idea of his strength) that Cadoudal, almost single-handed, had been able to resist the government of Bonaparte, who had been First Consul for the last three months. The two leaders who continued with him, faithful to the Bourbon dynasty, were Frotté and Bourmont.
At the time of which we are now speaking, that is to say, the 26th of January, 1800, Cadoudal commanded three or four thousand men with whom he was preparing to blockade General Hatry in Vannes.
During the time that he awaited the First Consul’s answer to the letter of Louis XVIII. he had suspended hostilities; but Tiffauges had arrived a couple of days before with it.
That letter was already on the way to England, whence it would be sent to Mittau; and since the First Consul would not accept peace on the terms dictated by Louis XVIII., Cadoudal, commander-in-chief of Louis XVIII. in the West, renewed his warfare against Bonaparte, intending to carry it on alone, if necessary, with his friend Tiffauges. For the rest, the latter was at Pouancé, where conferences were being held between Châtillon, d’Autichamp, the Abbé Bernier, and General Hédouville.
He was reflecting—this last survivor of the great warriors of the civil war—and the news he had just received was indeed a matter for deep reflection.
General Brune, the conqueror of Alkmaar and Castricum, the savior of Holland, had just been appointed to the command of the Republican forces in the West. He had reached Nantes three days previous, intending, at any cost, to annihilate Cadoudal and his Chouans.
At any cost, therefore, Cadoudal and his Chouans must prove to the commander-in-chief that they knew no fear, and had nothing to expect from intimidation.
Just then the gallop of a horse was heard; the rider no doubt had the countersign, for he passed without difficulty the various patrols stationed along the toad to La Roche-Bernard, and entered the village of Muzillac, also without difficulty.
He stopped before the door of the cottage in which Georges was sitting. The latter raised his head, listened, and, by way of precaution, laid his hands on his pistols, though it was probable that the new-comer was a friend.
The rider dismounted, strode up the path, and opened the door of the room where Georges was waiting.
“Ah! it’s you, Coeur-de-Roi,” said Cadoudal. “Where do you come from?”
“From Pouancé, general.”
“What news?”
“A letter from Tiffauges.”
“Give it to me.”
Georges snatched the letter hastily from Coeur-de-Roi’s hand and read it.
“Ah!” he exclaimed.
Then he read it a second time,
“Have you seen the man whose coming he speaks of?” inquired Cadoudal.
“Yes, general,” replied the courier.
“What sort of a man is he?”
“A handsome young fellow of twenty-six or seven.”
“What manner?”
“Determined.”
“That’s it. When does he arrive?”
“Probably tonight.”
“Did you safeguard him along the road?”
“Yes; he’ll come safely.”
“Do it again. Nothing must happen to him; he is protected by Morgan.”
“That’s understood, general.”
“Anything more to say?”
“The advanced guard of the Republicans has reached La Roche-Bernard.”
“How many men?”
“About a thousand. They have a guillotine with them, and the commissioner of the executive power, Millière.”
“Are you sure?”
“I met them on the road. The commissioner was riding near the colonel, and I recognized him perfectly. He executed my brother, and I have sworn he shall die by my own hand.”
“And you’ll risk your life to keep your oath?”
“At the first opportunity.”
“Perhaps it won’t be long coming.”
The gallop of a horse echoed through the street.
“Ah!” said Coeur-de-Roi, “that is probably the man you expect.”
“No,” replied Cadoudal, “this rider comes from the direction of Vannes.”
The sound became more distinct, and it proved that Cadoudal was right.
The second horseman, like the first, halted at the gate, dismounted, and came into the room. The royalist leader recognized him at once, in spite of the large cloak in which he was wrapped.
“Is it you, Bénédicité?” he asked.
“Yes, general.”
“Where do you come from?”
“From Vannes, where you sent me to watch the Blues.
“Well, what are the Blues doing?”
“Scaring themselves about dying of hunger if you blockade the town. In order to procure provisions General Hatry intends to carry off the supplies at Grandchamp. The general is to command the raid in person; and, to act more quickly, only a hundred men are to go.”
“Are you tired, Bénédicité?”
“Never, general.”
“And your horse?”
“He came fast, but he can do twelve or fifteen miles more without killing himself.”
“Give him two hours’ rest, a double feed of oats, and make him do thirty.”
“On those conditions he can do them.”
“Start in two hours. Be at Grandchamp by daybreak. Give the order in my name to evacuate the village. I’ll take care of General Hatry and his column. Is that all you have to say?”
“No, I heard other news.”
“What is it?”
“That Vannes has a new bishop.”
“Ha! so they are giving us back our bishops?”
“So it seems; but if they are all like this one, they can keep them.”
“Who is he?”
“Audrein!”
“The regicide?”
“Audrein the renegade.”
“When is he coming?”
“Tonight or tomorrow.”
“I shall not go to meet him; but let him beware of falling into my men’s hands.”
Bénédicité and Coeur-de-Roi burst into a laugh which completed Cadoudal’s thought.
“Hush!” cried Cadoudal.
The three men listened.
“This time it is probably he,” observed Georges.
The gallop of a horse could be heard coming from the direction of La Roche-Bernard.
“It is certainly he,” repeated Coeur-de-Roi.
“Then, my friends, leave me alone. You, Bénédicité, get to Grandchamp as soon as possible. You, Coeur-de-Roi, post thirty men in the courtyard; I want messengers to send in different directions. By the way, tell some one to bring the best that can be got for supper in the village.”
“For how many, general?”
“Oh! two.”
“Are you going out?”
“No, only to meet the man who is coming.”
Two or three men had already taken the horses of the messengers into the courtyard. The messengers themselves disappeared.
Georges reached the gate on the street just as a horseman, pulling up his horse, looked about him and seemed to hesitate.
“He is here, sir,” said Georges.
“Who is here?”
“He whom you seek.”
“How do you know whom I am seeking?”
“I presume it is Georges Cadoudal, otherwise called Roundhead.”
“Exactly.”
“Then I bid you welcome, Monsieur Roland de Montrevel, for I am the person you seek.”
“Ah, ah!” exclaimed the young man, amazed.
Then, dismounting, he looked about as if for some one to take his mount.
“Throw the bridle over your horse’s neck, and don’t be uneasy about him. You will find him when you want him. Nothing is ever lost in Brittany; you are in the land of honesty.”
The young man made no remark, threw the bridle over his horse’s neck as he had been told, and followed Cadoudal, who walked before him.
“Only to show you the way, colonel,” said the leader of the Chouans.
They both entered the cottage, where an invisible hand had just made up the fire.
Roland entered, as we have said, behind Georges, and as he entered cast a glance of careless curiosity around him. That glance sufficed to show him that they were alone.
“Are these your quarters, general?” asked Roland with a smile, turning the soles of his boots to the blaze.
“Yes, colonel.”
“They are singularly guarded.”
Georges smiled in turn.
“Do you say that because you found the road open from La Roche-Bernard here?” he asked.
“I did not meet a soul.”
“That does not prove that the road was not guarded.”
“Unless by the owls, who seemed to fly from tree to tree, and accompanied me all the way, general. In that case, I withdraw my assertion.”
“Exactly,” replied Cadoudal. “Those owls were my sentinels, sentinels with good eyes, inasmuch as they have this advantage over the eyes of men, they can see in the dark.”
“It is not the less true that I was fortunate in having inquired my way at La Roche-Bernard; for I didn’t meet even a cat who could have told me where to find you.”
“But if you had raised your voice at any spot on the road and asked: ‘Where shall I find Georges Cadoudal?’ a voice would have answered: ‘At the village of Muzillac, fourth house to the right.’ You saw no one, colonel; but at that very moment fifteen hundred men, or thereabout, knew that Colonel Roland, the First Consul’s aide-de-camp, was on his way to a conference with the son of the miller of Leguerno.”
“But if they knew that I was a colonel in the Republican service and aide-de-camp to the First Consul, how came they to let me pass?”
“Because they were ordered to do so.”
“Then you knew that I was coming?”
“I not only knew that you were coming, but also why you have come.”
Roland looked at him fixedly.
“Then it is useless for me to tell you; and you will answer me even though I say nothing?”
“You are about right.”
“The deuce! I should like to have a proof of this superiority of your police over ours.”
“I will supply it, colonel.”
“I shall receive it with much satisfaction, especially before this excellent fire, which also seems to have been expecting me.”
“You say truer than you know, colonel; and it is not the fire only that is striving to welcome you warmly.”
“Yes, but it does not tell me, any more than you have done, the object of my mission.”
“Your mission, which you do me the honor to extend to me, was primarily intended for the Abbé Bernier alone. Unhappily the Abbé Bernier, in the letter he sent his friend Martin Duboys, presumed a little on his strength. He offered his mediation to the First Consul.”
“Pardon me,” interrupted Roland, “you tell me something I did not know; namely that the Abbé Bernier had written to General Bonaparte.”
“I said he wrote to his friend Martin Duboys, which is
Comments (0)