AN HOMERIC SONG.
It is time to pass into the other camp, and to describe at once the
combatants and the field of battle. Aramis and Porthos had gone to the
grotto of Locmaria with the expectation of finding there their canoe
ready armed, as well as the three Bretons, their assistants; and they at
first hoped to make the bark pass through the little issue of the
cavern, concealing, in that fashion, both their labors and their flight.
The arrival of the fox and the dogs had obliged them to remain
concealed. The grotto extended the space of about a hundred toises, to
that little slope dominating a creek. Formerly, a temple of the Celtic
divinities, when Belle-Isle was still called Colonèse, this grotto had
seen more than one human sacrifice accomplished in its mysterious
depths. The first entrance to the cavern was by a moderate descent,
above which heaped-up rocks formed a low arcade; the interior, very
unequal as to the ground, dangerous from the rocky inequalities of the
vault, was subdivided into several compartments which commanded each
other and joined each other by means of several rough broken steps,
fixed right and left, in enormous natural pillars. At the third
compartment, the vault was so low, the passage so narrow, that the bark
would scarcely have passed without touching the two sides; nevertheless,
in a moment of despair, wood softens and stone becomes compliant under
the breath of human will. Such was the thought of Aramis, when, after
having fought the fight, he decided upon flight--a flight certainly
dangerous, since all the assailants were not dead; and that, admitting
the possibility of putting the bark to sea, they would have to fly in
open day, before the conquered, so interested on recognizing their small
number, in pursuing their conquerors. When the two discharges had killed
ten men, Aramis, habituated to the windings of the cavern, went to
reconnoiter them one by one--counted them, for the smoke prevented
seeing outside; and he immediately commanded that the canoe should be
rolled as far as the great stone, the closure of the liberating issue.
Porthos collected all his strength, took the canoe up in his arms, and
raised it up, while the Bretons made it run rapidly along the rollers.
They had descended into the third compartment; they had arrived at the
stone which walled up the outlet. Porthos seized this gigantic stone at
its base, applied to it his robust shoulder, and gave a heave which made
this wall crack.
A cloud of dust fell from the vault with the ashes of ten thousand
generations of sea birds, whose nests stuck like cement to the rock. At
the third shock the stone gave way; it oscillated for a minute. Porthos,
placing his back against the neighboring rock, made an arch with his
foot, which drove the block out of the calcareous masses which served
for hinges and cramps. The stone fell, and daylight was visible,
brilliant, radiant, which rushed into the cavern by the opening, and the
blue sea appeared to the delighted Bretons. They then began to lift the
bark over the barricade. Twenty more toises, and it might glide into the
ocean. It was during this time that the company arrived, was drawn up by
the captain, and disposed for either an escalade or an assault. Aramis
watched over everything, to favor the labors of his friends. He saw the
re-enforcements, he counted the men, he convinced himself at a single
glance of the insurmountable peril to which a fresh combat would expose
them. To escape by sea, at the moment the cavern was about to be
invaded, was impossible. In fact, the daylight which had just been
admitted to the two last compartments had exposed to the soldiers the
bark being rolled toward the sea, the two rebels within musket shot, and
one of their discharges would riddle the boat if it did not kill the
five navigators. Besides, supposing everything--if the bark escaped with
the men on board of it, how could the alarm be suppressed--how could
notice to the royal lighters be prevented? What could hinder the poor
canoe, followed by sea, and watched from the shore, from succumbing
before the end of the day? Aramis, digging his hands into his gray hair
with rage, invoked the assistance of God, and the assistance of the
demon. Calling to Porthos, who was working alone more than all the
rollers--whether of flesh or of wood--"My friend," said he, "our
adversaries have just received a re-enforcement."
"Ah! ah!" said Porthos, quietly, "what is to be done, then?"
"To recommence the combat," said Aramis, "is hazardous."
"Yes," said Porthos, "for it is difficult to suppose that out of two one
should not be killed, and certainly, if one of us were killed, the other
would get himself killed also." Porthos spoke these words with that
heroic nature, which, with him, grew greater with all the phases of
matter.
Aramis felt it like a spur to his heart. "We shall neither of us be
killed if you do what I tell you, friend Porthos."
"Tell me what?"
"These people are coming down into the grotto."
"Yes."
"We could kill about fifteen of them, but not more."
"How many are there in all?" asked Porthos.
"They have received a re-enforcement of seventy-five men."
"Seventy-five and five, eighty. Ah! ah!" said Porthos.
"If they fire all at once they will riddle us with balls."
"Certainly they will."
"Without reckoning," added Aramis, "that the detonations might occasion
fallings in of the cavern."
"Aye," said Porthos, "a piece of falling rock just now grazed my
shoulder a little."
"You see, then!"
"Oh! it is nothing."
"We must determine upon something quickly. Our Bretons are going to
continue to roll the canoe toward the sea."
"Very well."
"We two will keep the powder, the balls, and muskets here."
"But only two, my dear Aramis--we shall never fire three shots
together," said Porthos, innocently, "the defense by musketry is a bad
one."
"Find a better, then."
"I have found one," said the giant, eagerly; "I will place myself in
ambuscade behind the pillar with this iron bar, and invisible,
unattackable, if they come in in floods, I can let my bar fall upon
their skulls, thirty times in a minute. Hein! what do you think of the
project? You smile."
"Excellent, dear friend, perfect! I approve it greatly; only you will
frighten them, and half of them will remain outside to take us by
famine. What we want, my good friend, is the entire destruction of the
troop; a single man left standing ruins us."
"You are right, my friend, but how can we attract them, pray?"
"By not stirring, my good Porthos."
"Well! we won't stir, then; but when they shall be all together--"
"Then leave it to me, I have an idea."
"If it is thus, and your idea be a good one--and your idea is most
likely to be good--I am satisfied."
"To your ambuscade, Porthos, and count how many enter."
"But you, what will you do?"
"Don't trouble yourself about me; I have a task to perform."
"I think I can hear cries."
"It is they! To your post. Keep within reach of my voice and hand."
Porthos took refuge in the second compartment, which was absolutely
black with darkness. Aramis glided into the third; the giant held in his
hand an iron bar of about fifty pounds' weight. Porthos handled this
lever, which had been used in rolling the bark, with marvelous facility.
During this time, the Bretons had pushed the bark to the beach. In the
enlightened compartment, Aramis, stooping and concealed, was busied in
some mysterious maneuver. A command was given in a loud voice. It was
the last order of the captain commandant. Twenty-five men jumped from
the upper rocks into the first compartment of the grotto, and having
taken their ground, began to fire. The echoes growled, the hissing of
the balls cut the air, an opaque smoke filled the vault.
"To the left! to the left!" cried Biscarrat, who, in his first assault,
had seen the passage to the second chamber, and who, animated by the
smell of powder, wished to guide his soldiers in that direction. The
troop accordingly precipitated themselves to the left--the passage
gradually growing narrower. Biscarrat, with his hands stretched forward,
devoted to death, marched in advance of the muskets. "Come on! come on!"
exclaimed he, "I see daylight!"
"Strike, Porthos!" cried the sepulchral voice of Aramis.
Porthos breathed a heavy sigh--but he obeyed. The iron bar fell full and
direct upon the head of Biscarrat, who was dead before he had ended his
cry. Then the formidable lever rose ten times in ten seconds, and made
ten corpses. The soldiers could see nothing; they heard sighs and
groans; they stumbled over dead bodies, but as they had no conception of
the cause of all this, they came forward jostling each other. The
implacable bar, still falling, annihilated the first platoon, without a
single sound having warned the second, which was quietly advancing, only
this second platoon, commanded by the captain, had broken a thin fir,
growing on the shore, and, with its resinous branches twisted together,
the captain had made a flambeau. On arriving at the compartment where
Porthos, like the exterminating angel, had destroyed all he touched, the
first rank drew back in terror. No firing had replied to that of the
guards, and yet their way was stopped by a heap of dead bodies--they
literally walked in blood. Porthos was still behind his pillar. The
captain, on enlightening with the trembling flame of the fir this
frightful carnage, of which he in vain sought the cause, drew back
toward the pillar, behind which Porthos was concealed. Then a gigantic
hand issued from the shade, and fastened on the throat of the captain,
who uttered a stifled rattle; his stretched out arms beating the air,
the torch fell and was extinguished in blood. A second after, the corpse
of the captain fell close to the extinguished torch, and added another
body to the heap of dead which blocked up the passage. All this was
effected as mysteriously as if by magic. At hearing the rattling in the
throat of the captain, the soldiers who accompanied him had turned
round: they had caught a glimpse of his extended arms, his eyes starting
from their sockets, and then the torch fell and they were left in
darkness. From an unreflective, instinctive, mechanical feeling, the
lieutenant cried--"Fire!"
Immediately a volley of musketry flamed, thundered, roared in the
cavern, bringing down enormous fragments from the vaults. The cavern was
lighted for an instant by this discharge, and then immediately returned
to a darkness rendered still thicker by the smoke. To this succeeded a
profound silence, broken only by the steps of the third brigade, now
entering the cavern.