the Maréchal Duc de Broglio near Giessen, and left M. d'Armentieres
with twenty thousand men to oppose Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, in
the neighbourhood of the Wesel; and on this important day we had an
open rupture with the Free Company of Coeurdefer, for when detailed
together to form the advanced guard of horse, the gentlemen of the
Mousquetaires Gris et Rouges flatly refused to share a post of honour
with a corps of outlaws. Then the chevalier, flaming with
irrepressible fury, flung his glove in the face of our colonel, Henri
the Vicomte de Chateaunoir, with whom he had an old unfinished feud,
and a duel to the death was only prevented by the determination of
the maréchal duc, who bound them both down by solemn promises to keep
the peace towards each other, at least until the close of the
campaign; but the villain Coeurdefer made a vow of vengeance,
swearing to 'lay the vicomte at his feet, where he had laid many a
better man;' and you see how he has kept that vow, for by him or by
his men our wounded leader was murdered on the field on the morning
after Minden!"
"I do not understand," said Major Cringle, in whose tent this
conversation took place one evening, when, with a few droppers-in, he
and the now-convalescent Mousquetaire lingered over a few bottles of
Rhenish wine; "in fact, it seems to me a marvel how a gallant soldier
such as the late Prince Xavier of Saxony could tolerate the presence
of such a ruffian and bully as this Captain Coeurdefer."
"For various reasons; he is brave----"
"Bravery is no strange quality in the French or Imperial armies, I
think," said one of the 51st.
"Moreover, he is an expert forager, skilful in war, useful in
council, and leader of two hundred troopers, who have only one
virtue--their devotion to him. Besides, the brutal qualities he
displays are not singular in the history of wars in Germany. We have
had many such examples as he among the mixed races which make up the
armies of France and Austria.
"In the last century there was the terrible Count Merode, a colonel
of musketeers, whose name has become a proverb for all that is vile;
and there was the ferocious Jehan de Wart, a colonel of horse, who in
Bavaria spared neither man, woman, nor child, when the lust of blood
glowed in his fiery heart."
"Thank Heaven! we have no such fellows among us," said the officer of
the 51st, complacently.
"Sir," said Allan Robertson, with a cloudy brow, "you forget the nine
of diamonds--the exterminating order of Cumberland, written on the
night before we fought you at Culloden."
"But the assassination of your poor colonel," began Pringle, hastily,
to change the turn the conversation was taking.
"Ah! that was a frightful episode in this new war; and yet believe
me, my dear major, Coeurdefer has committed many such acts, and has
always contrived to elude the hand of justice. Witness his vow to
lay our colonel at his feet, where better men had lain. Liar that he
is! Chateaunoir was the first gentleman in France! But true it is
that, of the many who have lain at the feet of Jules, few have fallen
in battle or fair combat."
"You seem to have serious cause for disliking him," said Pringle.
"Disliking!" reiterated Robertson, while his eyes sparkled and his
pale face glowed with anger--"say abhorring him!"
"You had your sword," said the officer of the 51st.
"But it is the sword of a Mousquetaire," replied Robertson, sternly;
"the chevalier ranks with a field officer."
"True," said Pringle; "you must pardon my friend, who forgets surely
what discipline inculcates. And the cause of this animosity?"
"Is a dark and painful story," sighed Robertson, as he drained his
green glass of Rhenish, and tossed it on the turf floor of the tent.
"Let us hear it."
"Before the rising of the clans in 1745," began Robertson, "I was a
student at the Scottish College of Pontamousson, where I learned
Latin and the classics under the tuition of old Father Innes. I had
then a dear friend named Louis d'Herblay, a native of Remiremont, at
the foot of Mount Vosge in Lorraine. Louis was handsome, brave, and
courteous; an expert maker of verses; a tolerable player on the
guitar, and a smart handler of his sword, which he had seldom
occasion to use, for he was beloved by every one; a successful love
affair with Mademoiselle Annette, a pretty and sprightly girl, had
put him in the best of humours with all mankind. Annette was the
only daughter of the old Marquis de Chateaunoir, father of the
vicomte of that title, Great Maréchal of Lorraine and Bar-le-Duc.
"Jules Coeurdefer, the spendthrift, gambler, and roué, was then, to
our great regret, at college with us too, and having not yet come to
his estates, his finances being far below his ambition and
expenditure, to keep these equal he had betaken him to cards, dice,
successful bets, to bullying some and cajoling others--and to every
means his wild and wayward course of life permitted--a course which
was the scandal of the good fathers of Pontamousson, and soon
procured him the only favour he wished at their hands--expulsion.
"Between him and Louis d'Herblay there grew an aversion--a hatred
that waxed stronger daily; an antagonism on his side, but on the part
of Louis a cold and haughty bearing; for he despised the life and
habits of Coeurdefer, whom he had thrice fought and thrice disarmed,
when involved with him in tavern brawls beyond the college gates; for
_within_ these barriers no sword or other weapon was ever worn. But
in the very spirit of a Venetian bravo, Jules was known, or
suspected, to bear about his person a small _crystal poniard_, the
most savage of all weapons for inflicting a wound; as the blade, when
broken off at the hilt, remained like a deadly sting in the body of
the victim. It was a weapon which could be used but _once_ only, and
then with terrible effect.
"I have mentioned that my friend D'Herblay had a successful love
affair. As a trophy of it, he wore at his breast an antique cameo of
great size, set round with diamonds, and within it was the hair of
Annette concealed by a secret spring. He was not rich, but was
sufficiently wealthy and well born to render him an acceptable suitor
even to the most wary of fathers; thus it had been arranged that, as
soon as he left college, his marriage would be celebrated. Father
Innes, our old preceptor, was to perform the ceremony; all the
students congratulated Louis, and looked forward to his nuptials as
to a _fête_--at least, all save Coeurdefer, who kept ever aloof from
him, and smiled with the quiet covert smile of malice and hate, when
D'Herblay or his affairs were mentioned in his presence.
"At last came the time appointed for Louis to leave the college, and
I was to accompany him to Remiremont. He bade adieu to all the old
Scottish priests of Pontamousson, and severally shook hands with all
his brother students--all till he came to where Coeurdefer was
lounging outside the gates smoking a huge German pipe; and D'Herblay,
in the happy fulness of his honest heart, being unwilling to leave a
foe behind him, approached and held out his hand, saying--
"'Farewell, M. le Chevalier, though we have not always been the best
of friends, I nope we do not part as enemies. Here is my hand to
you--my hand, in token of friendship and future amity."
"Despite the honest frankness that beamed in the blue eyes of
D'Herblay and the confiding generosity of his speech, the coarse
Jules Coeurdefer gave him a sullen frown, and while rudely emitting a
volume of smoke full in his face, with a sullen gesture of contempt,
strode away.
"All the students muttered 'Shame!' and for a moment a cloud hovered
on the usually smooth brow of D'Herblay.
"'Bah!' said he, turning to me, 'one who is so happy as I, can well
afford to pity the wrath of one so poor in spirit and in Christian
charity. Farewell, Jules,' he added, as we leaped on our horses;
'when next we meet, we shall part less sullenly.'
"'Yes--when next we meet, our parting _shall_ be different,' replied
Coeurdefer, looking over his left shoulder, with a black frown in his
face, as we trotted from the college gates.
"'He means me mischief--pooh! let the fool do his worst,' said Louis.
We soon dismissed him from our thoughts, and laughing and chatting
gaily, waving our hats to the old people, and kissing our hands to
the young girls, we rode through the old familiar streets of
Pontamousson, and took the road that led direct to D'Herblay's home,
which lay more than twenty leagues distant. And now, gentlemen,
observe that _within one hour_ after we left the college gates, Jules
de Coeurdefer, alone and unattended, also departed on horseback,
ostensibly to return to his father's house on the French side of the
Rhine.
"We cantered along the road to Nancy, between the yellow cornfields,
feeling happy as boys in our new freedom, and singing together a song
which Louis had composed in honour of Annette de Chateaunoir, and
thus we pushed on without halting at the capital of the duchy, save
for a few minutes at a jeweller's, where my friend bought a diamond
bracelet for his future bride. Blaziers and Neufchateau were soon
passed, and then we reached Epinal, which, in 1466, was bestowed upon
the once independent princes of Lorraine; and their castle, now a
ruin, crowns an eminence above it.
"Epinal is within ten miles of Remiremont, and there we were
compelled by the state of our horses to halt, notwithstanding the
impatience of my friend, to whom a night spent so near the residence
of Annette seemed an age, and the ten miles that intervened a
thousand leagues; but we called for supper and made ourselves
comfortable at an auberge. Louis assumed his guitar, and we sought
to while away the time; and the hours flew quickly, for we had a
thousand plans to form and things to talk of.
"Alas! how little did we dream that Jules de Coeurdefer, like a
bloodhound, was tracking us swiftly and surely, by Nancy, Blaziers,
and Neufchateau, and had actually lodged himself in an auberge
opposite ours, at Epinal.
"After sitting up late, we retired. Overcome by an excessive
lassitude, induced by the long and arduous journey of the past day, I
fell into a deep and profound sleep--so deep indeed, that the noon of
the next day had rung from the church bells ere I awoke, and inquired
for my companion. Thus, you may see, sirs, the difference between
one who is a lover and one who is not.
"Louis had been up with the lark, as the aubergiste informed me, and
full of impatience to visit his mistress, had mounted a fresh horse,
and set forth alone, leaving a message for me to follow him to the
mansion of the marquis, near Remiremont; adding, as an apology for
his abrupt departure, that he was loth to rouse me from a slumber so
comfortable and profound.
"I ordered my horse, paid my bill, and departed at leisure, for I had
no hope of overtaking him. An easy trot of tea miles brought me to
Remiremont, which is a pretty little town on the left bank of the
Moselle, and without difficulty I reached Chateaunoir, the fosse of
which was filled by the river. The edifice was ancient, surmounted
by heavy turrets and all built of _black_ stone (hence its name), and
it stood embosomed among fine old trees.
"I sent up my name, and inquired for M. d'Herblay.
"'How--is he not with you, M. Allan?' asked the old marquis, with
astonishment in his tone and manner.
"'No,' said I; 'he quitted Epinal at least four hours before me,
leaving a message for me to follow him hither.'
"'Four hours before you, and he has not arrived yet!'
"'This is most perplexing, M. le Marquis!' said I.
"'Oh, mon Dieu! what can have happened?' exclaimed mademoiselle, whom
I now saw for the first time, and who was a fair blonde, with a
beautiful skin and long dark eyelashes, which lent a softness and
inexpressible charm to her face.
"I could not reply. My heart misgave me; for knowing D'Herblay as I
did, I feared that something most unusual must have occurred to
prevent his appearance at the chateau.
"Noon passed; the sun verged westward, and still he did not appear.
I became seriously alarmed; the old marquis was perplexed and
irritated; while Annette wept in silence.
"Horses were ordered at last, and with Chateaunoir, his son the
Vicomte Henri, afterwards Colonel of the Grey Mousquetaires, and all
his servants, I set forth to search the roads and inquire for my
friend. For some time we prosecuted this object in vain; but after
much labour and anxiety, judge of our horror, when in a secluded
orangery, about two miles from Epinal, the young vicomte found a man
lying on the grass wounded, bleeding and dying, surrounded by a group
of pitying and terrified vine-dressers.
"The damps of death were on the brow of this unfortunate, who proved
to be my friend, poor Louis d'Herblay.
"He was frightfully pale, having received several wounds--one of
these in the bosom occasioned him the most exquisite agony. From
this wound he had bled for some hours undiscovered, and now he was
beyond all hope of recovery. Revived partially by our presence, by a
cordial poured between his lips, and by the stoppage of the crimson
tide which had soaked the soil whereon he lay, in broken accents and
at long intervals, he related what had befallen him; and every word
he uttered there, so slowly, painfully, and laboriously, sank deeply
in our hearts, for they were too surely the last words of the dying.
"Loth to arouse me untimeously at Epinal, my kind friend had arisen,
and softly descended the wooden stair, saddled his horse, and left
the auberge by dawn. He departed from Epinal at a canter, and in the
overflowing happiness of his heart was singing merrily, when at a
solitary part of the road, he heard the hoofs of a galloping none,
and a voice impetuously calling upon him to stop. Believing this
follower was I, who had discovered his secret and hasty departure, he
turned to find himself confronted by a tall stranger, whose face was
concealed by a black velvet mask, and whom he believed to be a
brigand or assassin.
"'Monsieur,' said the strange horseman, in a voice which, by its
varying tones, was too evidently disguised as his face, 'you are
abroad betimes.'
"'As you also are,' replied Louis; 'but was it you, monsieur, who
called upon me to stop?'
"'It was.'
"'For what purpose?'
"'That you shall shortly see.'
"'Shortly--nay, as soon as you please, for I am in haste.'
"'Indeed!' said the other scornfully and slowly.
"'What is your wish, sir?'
"Simply, that you measure swords with me in this meadow.'
"'Why?' asked Louis, with astonishment.
"'I intended to have pistolled you through the back, _sans
cérémonie_, at first; but my heart relented; thus, I mean to afford
you a chance of saving your miserable life--though I must have your
purse and valuables.'
"'You are, then, a robber."
"'If one whose funds are down to zero, and who is desperate, be a
robber, then I am one,' replied the mask, still in his feigned voice.
"'I am no poltroon, yet I will gladly save your soul the commission
of a double crime,' said poor D'Herblay, who was the very mirror of
generosity; 'here is my purse, good fellow--pray accept it and be
gone, for I have no time to trifle with you.'
The unknown coolly put the purse in his pocket and drew his sword,
saying, with an ironical laugh--
"'I thank you, though I would have had it, at all events; but still,'
he added, grinding his teeth, 'you must fight with me!'
"'Leave me until to-morrow,' said Louis; 'there is one awaiting me at
Remiremont--one expecting me to-day--whom I would not disappoint--a
lady who loves me, monsieur.'
"The stranger laughed scornfully.
"'Let me see her but once again, and I shall meet you with joy.'
"The stranger laughed louder, and said bitterly--
"'Why not meet me now?'
"'I know not,' urged poor D'Herblay, who was anxious to ride on; 'but
your presence chills my heart--I have a dark and solemn presentiment.'
"For a third time the other laughed ferociously, while his eyes
sparkled through the holes in his mask, and he menaced D'Herblay with
his sword, saying--
"'Fight--fight!'
"'To-morrow--I tell you, to-morrow.'
"'Never--be it now or never!'
"'I am too full of happiness to fight.'
"'Happiness!'
"'She whom I love--she whom I am to wed, expects me at Remiremont.'
"'She whom you love, and whom you hope to wed, shall never see you,
but as a breathless corpse, fool!'
"'If I am slain, who will bear my last words to Annette?'
"'The spirits of the air or the demons of hell--I care not which,'
was the fierce response.
"'Fool that I was to leave the auberge without my friend. Moreover,
I decline to fight with a rascally _ferrailleur_!'
"This epithet, which is used in France to distinguish a person who,
without provocation, delights in quarrelling and forcing others to
fight, made this highway brawler tremble with rage.
"'Coward!' he thundered out.
"'Hah!' exclaimed Louis, leaping from his horse, and in his passion
forgetting all but vengeance.
"'Coward, come on!' reiterated his assailant.
"Louis pressed to his lips the cameo locket which contained the hair
of Annette, and with a prayer to Heaven that he might be spared to
see her, rushed upon his furious antagonist. A desperate duel began,
and so ably were the voice and costume of the masker disguised, that
never once did a thought of Jules de Coeurdefer cross the mind of
D'Herblay. They had withdrawn from the roadway into an orangery, and
taken off their coats and vests to afford them greater freedom. A
perfect fencer, Louis stood erect, with his head upright, his body
forward on a longe, all the weight on his left haunch--feet, hands,
body, arm and sword _in a line_, and completely covered by his weapon.
"Their swords clashed and gleamed in the bright morning sun; both
were expert combatants, and most of their passes were skilfully made
and as skilfully parried. The masker made a feint to the left, but
changing the attack, suddenly ran his weapon through the sword-arm of
Louis, fairly wedging the blade between the bones below the elbow,
and covering his shirt with blood in a moment. Paralysed by this,
his future defence was feeble. He received repeated wounds, and was
at last laid prostrate on the earth, bleeding and senseless.
"'Lie there, thou moonstruck fool!' exclaimed his ruthless conqueror,
giving him a final stroke in the breast. Tearing away the cameo
locket, he left the unhappy D'Herblay a dying man, for he expired in
our arms as we were conveying him to Remiremont.
On examining the wound in his breast, we found that it had been made
by the blade of a _small crystal poniard_, which was purposely broken
off from the hilt and left rankling in the orifice to insure by a
mortal stroke the death of the victim!
"My first thought was of Coeurdefer, whom I knew to be the possessor
of such weapons, which he had brought from Venice, where they are
commonly used by the bravoes; but the proofs I could adduce were too
slight for me, a stranger and a foreigner, to accuse the son of a
powerful baronial family; thus the terrible suspicion remained locked
in my own breast--a suspicion that grew less, however, when I
remembered that the victor, like a common footpad, had taken the
purse and locket of my poor friend.
"The grief of a kind, warm-hearted, and affectionate girl like
Annette may be imagined. She wept little, but her sorrow was the
deeper that it was unrelieved by any external manifestations. She
was long inconsolable.
"Now came the war consequent to the League formed at Vienna, in 1757,
to strip the King of Prussia of his dominions, and an alliance was
formed by France, Austria, Russia, and Sweden, when Britain declared
war against the former, and all Europe seemed to 'go by the ears' at
once.
"The old Marquis de Chateaunoir marched as Colonel of Horse under the
Maréchal d'Estrées, and fell at the passage of the Rhine. His son,
the Vicomte Henri, became a soldier, too, and soon obtained the
command of the Mousquetaires Gris, into which I, then a fugitive from
the Scottish Highlands, was admitted by his request; but long before
all this poor little Annette had become a canoness of Remiremont.
"This ecclesiastical establishment, by the peculiarity of its
constitution, is one of the most singular in the church. It was
founded by St. Romerick, a famous abbot, who lived in the days of
Clotaire II., and who built his first convent on what was then a bare
and desolate place, at the foot of Mount Vosge. All the ladies in
it, the abbess excepted, take certain vows, reserving to themselves
the right of quitting the convent and marrying if they please; and
all must prove their nobility by four descents before admission. The
abbess had both spiritual and temporal power under the Pope and Dukes
of Lorraine.
"Annette was a canoness for three years, and lived in peace, viewing
the world only as a place wherein to practise those little acts of
kindness and Christian charity which the ladies of St. Romerick
practised so freely as to make their establishment a boon and a
blessing to that sequestered little city among the mountains. There
her virtues, her attention to the sick, and her charity to the poor,
excited the admiration of all, as her sorrowful story, and sad, grave
manner won their sympathy. So three years glided away, until in an
evil hour Jules de Coeurdefer came to visit his sister, who was the
superior of this remarkable establishment.
"He saw Annette unveiled in the garden; her pale beauty, her
exceeding gentleness, and her loneliness raised a passion in his
breast. Impetuous in all things, he at once besought his sister to
intercede for him with Annette; and after many objections to engage
in a task so unsuited to the nature of her office, the abbess,
inspired by a natural regard for her only brother, and a desire to
obtain for him the object of his choice, whom she justly deemed a
pearl among women, and one whom she loved dearly and highly esteemed,
left nothing unsaid to urge his suit. M. Jules became a regular
visitor at the convent parlour, and daily saw Annette in the presence
of the abbess, who, believing that his conversation and gaiety (for
he was fresh from Paris, and the camp of Maréchal d'Estrées) might
amuse and interest the lonely girl, foresaw that in a second love
affair she might gradually be drawn from the terrible memory of the
first and of its fatal end.
"They soon became intimate, and all Remiremont rang with gossip; the
old condemned the lax discipline of the abbess, and the young
rejoiced that the pretty canoness Annette de Chateaunoir was to
become the wife of the handsome chevalier.
"In submission to the stronger will of the lady superior, and to the
energetic mind of Jules, and perhaps dazzled a little by the
brilliance, the splendid uniform, handsome figure, and gay
conversation of that redoubtable personage, she passively admitted
his addresses. But this new lover's deep dark eye seemed to exercise
some mysterious and magnetic influence over her; for, as the poor
girl afterwards told me, there were times when his glance seemed full
of a terrible fascination, and when she alternately loved and felt a
strange coldness--almost an involuntary repugnance for him.
"She strove to conquer this emotion, the origin of which she failed
to fathom, and anxious, perhaps, to forget the terrible sequel to her
first love among the gaiety proffered by the second, she consented to
receive the chevalier as her husband; and lest she might retract, the
ceremony was hurried on with a haste on his part which the
good-natured gossips of Remiremont averred to be somewhat indelicate
at least.
"His sister perceived the strange waverings and misgivings that
agitated the mind of poor Annette, and on the marriage morning she
embraced and kissed her tenderly.
"'Beware what you do, dearest Annette,' said she, 'lest you repent
the hour you leave us. In marriage the love of the mind and
character must be blended with and united to the love of the person,
or there can never be any duration of tenderness or of mutual
confidence. Oh, I pray Heaven, I may not have acted wrong in this
affair!'
"The misgivings of the good abbess came too late.