"Bah! That does not affect me."
"Far from your wife, from your children!"
"They are as often here with me as I am with them. The body is chained and separated, but the spirit laughs at chains and s.p.a.ce."
And interrupting himself, Lebrenn added:
"But, monsieur, kindly inform me by what accident I see you here. The Commissioner of the prison sent for me. Was it only to afford me the honor of receiving your visit?"
"You would misjudge me, monsieur," answered the General, "were you to believe that, after owing my life to you, I could come here with no other motive than that of idle and offensive curiosity."
"I shall not do you such an injustice, monsieur. You are, I presume, on a tour of inspection?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"I presume you learned I was here in prison, and you came, perhaps, to offer me your good offices?"
"Better yet, monsieur."
"Better yet? Pray, what do you mean? You seem to feel embarra.s.sed."
"Indeed--I am; very much so--" replied the General, visibly put out of countenance by the calmness and easy manners of the galley-slave.
"Revolutions often bring about bizarre situations."
"Bizarre situations?"
"Yes," replied the General; "the situation in which we two find ourselves at this moment, for instance."
"Oh, we already have exhausted the obvious bizarreness of fate, monsieur!" remarked the merchant smiling. "That, under the Republic, I, an old republican, should be found on the galley-bench, while you, a republican of recent date, should have been promoted to the rank of General--that is, no doubt, bizarre, we are agreed upon that. What else?"
"My embarra.s.sment proceeds from another reason, monsieur."
"Which?"
"It happens--that--" answered the General, hesitatingly.
"It happens that?"
"I applied--"
"You applied--for what, monsieur?"
"And obtained--"
"A pardon for me!" cried Lebrenn. "Why, that"s charming!"
And the situation brought about by the whirligig of politics was so droll that the merchant could not refrain from laughing heartily.
"Yes, monsieur," the General proceeded, "I have asked and obtained your pardon--you are free. Mine has been the honor of carrying the news to you personally."
"One word of explanation, monsieur," said the merchant in a tone of lofty seriousness. "I do not accept pardon; but, however tardy, I do accept atoning justice."
"What do you mean?"
"If, at the time of the fatal June insurrection, I had shared the views of those of my brothers who are here in prison with me, I would decline to accept a pardon. After having done like them, I would remain here as they, and with them!"
"Nevertheless, monsieur, your conviction--"
"Was iniquitous. I shall prove it to you in a few words. At the time of the June insurrection, last year, I was a captain in my legion. I responded without arms to the call issued by the National Guard. There I declared loudly, very loudly, that it was only _without arms_ that I would march at the head of my company, my purpose being not to engage in a b.l.o.o.d.y conflict, but to endeavor to convince my brothers, that, notwithstanding they were exasperated by misery, by a deplorable misunderstanding, and above all by atrocious deceptions, they should never forget that the people"s sovereignty was inviolable, and that, so long as the power which represented the same had not been legally impeached and convicted of treason, to revolt against that power, to attack it with arms instead of overthrowing it by means of the universal suffrage, was a suicidal act, and was an impeachment of popular sovereignty itself.[10] About one-half of my company shared my views and followed my example. While other citizens were charging us with treason, bare-headed, unarmed, our hands fraternally linked, we advanced towards the first barricade in our path. The guns were raised at our approach--we were heard. Already our brothers understood that, however legitimate their grievances, an insurrection would mean the immediate triumph of the enemies of the Republic. At that juncture a hail of bullets rained down upon the barricade behind which we were parleying.
Ignorant, no doubt, of this circ.u.mstance, a battalion of the line had attacked the position. Taken by surprise, the insurgents defended themselves heroically. The larger number were slain, a few were made prisoners. Confounded among the latter, several others of my own company and myself were seized and treated as insurgents. If I, thrown along with several friends of mine, into the underground dungeons of the Tuileries and kept there three days and nights, did not go crazy; if I preserved my reason, it was that, in the spirit, I was with my wife and children. Dragged before the military tribunal I there told the truth; they did not believe me. I was sent to this place. So you see, monsieur, it is not pardon that is granted to me, but tardy justice. Nevertheless, that does not prevent me from being grateful to you for the efforts you have put forth in my behalf. Well, then, I am free?"
"The Commissioner of Marine will be here presently; he will confirm what I have said to you. You can leave this place to-day--this hour."
"Now, monsieur, finding you so well entrenched at court--the republican court," the merchant proceeded to say, smiling, "I wish you would be kind enough to use your good offices with the Commissioner that he grant me a favor which he may be inclined to refuse."
"I am at your service, monsieur."
"You see this iron ring that I carry on my leg, and to which my chain is fastened? Now, then, I would like to be allowed to take this ring with me. I shall pay for it, of course."
"How! That ring! You would like to preserve it?"
"It is merely a collector"s mania, monsieur. I already own several small historic curiosities--among others the casque which you so kindly presented to me as a souvenir. I would like to join to them the iron ring of the political galley-slave. You will understand, monsieur, that, to me and my family, the two curiosities together will mean a good deal."
"Nothing easier, I believe, monsieur, than to meet your wishes. I shall so notify the Commissioner. But allow me a question--it may be indiscreet."
"What is it, monsieur?"
"I remember that eighteen months ago--and many a time and oft have I recalled the incident--I remember that, when I asked you to keep my casque as a memento of your generous conduct towards me, you answered--"
"That that would not be the only article from your family that my collection contained; not so?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"I told you the truth."
"You also told me, I believe, monsieur, that the Nerowegs of Plouernel--"
"Had several times, in the course of the ages and of events, encountered several members of my obscure slave, serf, va.s.sal or plebeian family,"
the merchant put in, completing the sentence of the Count of Plouernel.
"That is also true, monsieur."
"And what were the occasions? What the circ.u.mstances? How come you to be informed on events that took place so very long ago?"
"Permit me, monsieur, to keep that secret, and pardon me for having so thoughtlessly awakened in you a curiosity that I may not satisfy. Still laboring under the intoxicating influence of that day of triumphant civil war, and of the singular fatality that brought us, you and me, face to face, an allusion to the past escaped my lips. I regret it, because, I repeat--there are family remembrances that must never go outside of the domestic hearth."
"I shall not insist, monsieur," said the Count of Plouernel.
And after a moment"s hesitation he added: