love and triumph, the exulting chevalier led her away, and they were
married. Before leaving the convent, Jules placed in her hand a case
containing a complete set of brilliants--a tiara for her head, a
necklace, bracelets, and rings. Among these jewels was a _cameo
locket_, studded with the purest diamonds.
"On perceiving this well-known trinket, Annette grew pale, and
tottered to a chair. It seemed to come like a signal from the grave
of Louis d'Herblay to reproach her! Her features became convulsed
and her voice tremulous, for in a moment she recognised her own gift
to Louis, previous to his last departure for Fontamousson, and there
occurred to her a strange, but just and dreadful suspicion, that for
a moment paralysed her and rendered her totally incapable of
repelling the chevalier, who held her in his arms, and perceived at
once, and with no little confusion, the misfortune or discovery which
was impending.
"'Cursed fatality!' he exclaimed, through his clenched teeth.
"'Whence come this trinket, Jules? How came it into your possession?
Speak!' she exclaimed, in accents of terror, and with the gestures of
passion.
"'I do not understand you, dear Annette,' said he, finding that
nothing but perfect confidence and a bold falsehood would carry him
through this _malheur_. 'I had that locket made for me by a jeweller
of the Rue St. Honoré, in Paris, many years ago, as a gift for my
mother."
"'It is false all this; for, four years ago, I had it made here in
Remiremont."
"'Annette!'
"'Has it any secret spring or clasp?' she asked.
"'No--none, I am assured,' he answered, boldly.
"'You are sure of this, Jules?'
"'I swear to you Annette,' he urged, becoming frightfully agitated,
while the perspiration rolled like beads down his brow.
"'Swear not--you have lied enough already,' she exclaimed wildly.
'See, monsieur,' she added, pressing a spring and opening the locket
by a secret hitherto unknown to Coeurdefer, 'it contains my miniature
and a braid of my hair--mine, given in a happy, happy hour to Louis
d'Herblay! O, Louis! look down on me from heaven, and see how fate
has avenged thee! Away, chevalier--away; come not near me, and touch
me not! If other proof were wanting that you were his murderer, it
is here.'
"These words were rashly spoken, yet they stung Jules to the soul.
She tore her bridal chaplet and veil from her brow, trampled on them
with gestures of frenzy, and was borne away insensible in the arms of
the canonesses.
"In one hour after that _dénouement_ the exasperated chevalier had
left Remiremont for the French camp--left it to return no more."
"And what of Annette?" asked some one.
"She took the black veil, and is now nun of the convent of St.
Nicole, seven miles from Nancy. With that day's discovery began and
ended the wedded life of Coeurdefer; and since then he has led a wild
and reckless career, committing innumerable acts of daring, which by
some strange fatality have passed as yet unpunished; but the
assassination of D'Herblay--for that he _did_ assassinate him, I have
not the slightest doubt--is the blackest of his acts; unless, indeed,
that other episode at Minden be a deeper and a darker one.
"The marriage prevented the Vicomte Henri alike from prosecuting him
at common law as a felon, and from challenging him to a solemn duel,
and so time passed on; but he hated my colonel--the handsome young
Mousquetaire--with the hate of a tiger; hence I doubt not that by his
hand, or the hands of some of his lawless troop at his behest, my
leader perished on the field of Minden!
"France has not in all her army a more splendid soldier than that
Mousquetaire Gris!
"After the junction of the French army under M. de Contades and M. de
Broglio, as I have related, on their approach Prince Ferdinand
retreated, first to Lippstadt, and afterwards to Ham, where he
mustered all the forces in the Bishopric of Munster, and was joined
by the soldiers of Imhoff, while we advanced and took possession of
Cassel, Minden, and Beverungen.
"While we lay at Cassel, engaged in repairing and strengthening the
fortifications, the vicomte, our leader, was engaged in two pieces of
service, which savoured of the romance of the Middle Ages in Germany.
"There came to the colonel of the Mousquetaires, from the Lower Saxon
side of the Weser, a certain old knight named Otto of Burgsteinfort,
who though an adherent of the enemy, implored him as a soldier and a
gentleman to attempt the rescue of his daughter, an only child, who
had been carried off by a party of savage Uzkokes or Hungarian
infantry, who had been subsidized by the King of Prussia, and formed
a portion of the column commanded by Prince Ferdinand, but were more
immediately under the orders of Count Hatzfeld in Munden, twelve
miles distant on the Weser; and these wretches, he added, had borne
her into a forest in the Bishopric of Paderborn, where he dared not
follow them, alone at least. Pitying the distress of the old man,
Chateaunoir left Cassel on this errand of mercy with forty gentlemen
of the Mousquetaires Gris. Of these forty I had the honour to be one.
"'Will not Count Hatzfeld do this service for you, baron?' I asked.
"'No--though on my knees I prayed him; I who never have bent my knee
before to aught but a minister of God.'
"'Why?
"'Because our families are and have been long at feud.'
"'Good--I can understand that, for in my country we are not without
hereditary hatreds. Yet in this instance his conduct has been alike
ungenerous and wicked.'
"'True; thus I, a German, appeal to French chivalry.'
"'In a happy moment, baron,' said Chateaunoir, 'and your appeal shall
not be made in vain. This abduction----'
"'Occurred three days ago.'
"'Peste! then we have no time to lose!'
"We crossed a range of mountains in the night, and entered the
Bishopric of Paderborn, pushed on towards the forest, riding with
such speed, that, to prevent our horses being knocked up, at a
village near Borcholz, we refreshed them in the old Reiter fashion,
by bathing their nostrils with vinegar, giving them water and wine to
drink, and folding round their bits a piece of raw flesh sliced from
a stray cow, which we shot, and cut up for the purpose.
"Otto, the knight or baron (for we named him both), acted as our
guide, and such was the deadly treachery so frequently practised by
those Germans, that we were not without fear that the whole story of
the abduction might be a snare to lure away into ambush those who
were considered by the King of Prussia as the right arm of the French
general; and thus our colonel gave me express orders to keep by the
old man's side, and on the first indication of treachery, or
attempted flight, to pistol him without mercy!
"The harvest moon was shining full and yellow in her placid beauty
high above the steep green mountains that look down on Liebenau; but
now it was on the wane, for the east was marked by the coming day, as
in silence and circumspection we approached the fortress of the
lawless Uzkokes. Every leaf was still, the sky was of the purest
blue, and spread like a starry curtain behind the dark mountain
peaks, and the sombre forest scenery was reflected like inverted
trees of bronze in the calm lakes and tarns which we passed in our
progress through this wild region of solitude and old romance.
"An old servant of the baron, who had been lurking about the forest
in the vague hope of succouring his young mistress, now joined us,
and threw himself at the feet of his master. For two nights and days
this faithful fellow had been lurking in the vicinity of these
terrible depredators, and now he acted most efficiently as our guide.
His appearance, his tears, and enthusiasm dissipated our fears of a
snare, and made me feel somewhat ashamed of having encouraged them.
"The Uzkokes, about twenty in number, were deserters from Count
Hatzfeld's garrison in Munden, and had possessed themselves of an old
and deserted hunting lodge of the Electoral Bishops, built at the
foot of a rock; from thence they had been issuing from time to time,
to plunder the peasantry, to rob wayfarers and to shoot deer.
"The sound of guttural voices in loud altercation, mingled with
savage laughter, informed us that we were in the immediate vicinity
of those enterprising worthies who had abducted the baron's daughter.
Then, we saw the gleam of a red wavering light between the stems and
branches of the trees. This came from a huge fire around which they
were all bivouacked, drinking, sleeping, or making merry, and being
apparently without any proper watch or scout, as we were enabled to
approach them by a forest path unchallenged and unseen. The reason
of this seeming confidence was soon explained, when we found one of
their number lying across the narrow way stretched upon his musket,
either sottishly drunk or in profound slumber; but _which_ we never
had time to discover, for, quick as thought, the servant of the
baron, a bloodthirsty Westphalian boor, dispatched him by one slash
of his short and sharp _couteau de chasse_.
"The father was by my side as we advanced. Bare-headed, he was
praying with his clenched hands pressed upon his breast. The poor
old man was full of agony and terror.
"'They are twenty in number, you say?' asked Chateaunoir.
"'Exactly twenty, mein herr,' replied the old servant, wiping his
hunting-knife on the grass with grim care before he sheathed it.
"'Then ten of _us_ are enough for them,' replied our heroic young
colonel; 'let the ten gentlemen next me dismount and take their
pistols with them. You are sure, my friend, that your young mistress
is still among them?'
"'Sure as I live, mein herr,' replied the boor.
The baron groaned.
"'See!' exclaimed a Mousquetaire, 'there is a white dress amid their
circle.
"'_Christi kreutz!_ it is my young lady!' whispered the servant, in a
breathless voice.
"I placed my gloved hand on the baron's mouth lest he might utter a
cry, and spoil all.
"'Where--where?' asked Chateaunoir.
"'At the foot of that elm-tree, and, _mein Gott!_ she is tied to it
with a cord.'
"Creeping forward after Chateaunoir (for he would allow no man to
precede him) I saw a very remarkable scene.
"Around a huge fire of dried branches that crackled, sputtered, and
blazed, casting a red and lurid glow on the gnarled trunks of the old
oak-trees and on the leafy canopy formed by their twisted and
entwined foliage overhead, were the twenty Uzkokes, all
fierce-looking little men, of powerful, active, and athletic figures,
with hooked noses, keen eyes, and wild in gesture. They were bearded
to the cheekbones, and wore round fur caps and brown pelisses, or
short jackets, and wide red breeches, ending in brodequins, or
half-boots. They had each a short musket, slung across his body,
with a crooked sabre, which was worn in front, so that the hilt came
readily to the right hand. A few were asleep, snorting off the fumes
of the midnight debauch, as they sprawled among staved barrels,
broiled bones and broken dishes. The rest were engaged in a vehement
dispute, while near them drooped the poor object of their contention,
a pale-cheeked and slender young girl, secured to a tree by two broad
buff waist-belts and a cord; her dress was disordered; her flaxen
hair dishevelled and unpowdered; her face bowed down in her hands,
which rested on her knees.
"This was the daughter of Otto of Burgsteinfort.
"Once she looked wildly up to heaven, and then bowed down her face
again in hopeless misery. She was ghastly pale, and had a hopeless
glare in her blue eyes. Beauty, if she really possessed it, seemed
to have been quite scared from her.
"'_Morbleu!_ how pale she is--'tis quite a little spectre!' muttered
the mousquetaires.
"'Hush, gentlemen,' said the vicomte, cocking a pistol and drawing
his sword; 'we have come at a critical time. These wretches are all
insanely drunk, and, if I understand their barbarous jargon aright,
are now in vehement dispute as to whose property their fair prisoner
shall be.'
"All seemed inflamed by the desire of possessing the prize by the
strong hand; hence sabres were drawn, and a brawl, which might have
saved us all further trouble, was about to ensue, when a corporal,
who was leader of the gang, and evinced more brutality even than his
comrades, swore 'that none should have her but the wolves,' and
unslinging his musket, levelled it full at her head; but at that
moment a shot pierced his chest and he fell dead upon his face, with
arms outspread upon the earth. Death had come to him from the ready
pistol of Chateaunoir, who now led us on, and taking them by
surprise, we cut down almost the whole party without resistance.
Four who were asleep and dead drunk we hanged at our leisure, before
mounting to return.
"We then, without loss of time, retraced our steps, lest we might be
discovered and cut off by troops of Count Hatzfeld or Prince
Ferdinand, and rode on the spur towards the Weser.
"To the grateful Baron Otto and his daughter we bade adieu within a
few miles of Hatzfeld's headquarters, and sent the count an ironical
message, complimenting him on his chivalry and gallantry to the fair
sex. After this we reached our quarters in Cassel next evening,
without the loss of a man, and so ended our adventure in the forest
at Paderborn.
"The next affair to which I referred, is as follows:--
"We remained quietly in our new quarters for a few days until the Duc
de Broglio devised an attack upon Munden, the fortifications of which
were increasing under the eye of Count Hatzfeld. The Mousquetaires
Gris et Rouges marched on this service, and early that morning, long
before our trumpets sounded, I was roused by the din of the chopping
blocks, of which every French troop has one, to cut straw for the
horses before marching.
"With the dragoons of Brissac we formed the advanced guard of this
expedition, which included the Regiments of Picardie and Normandie;
and here I may mention that our mounted comrades were not named from
Brissac in Alsace, but from a little town of the same name in Anjou,
which belonged to the ancient family of Cosse, one of whom, Charles
de Cosse, was made a peer by Louis XIII., with the title of Maréchal
Duc de Brissac.
"_En route_ to the scene of our operations, the guide, a wild-looking
denizen of the neighbouring forests, clad almost entirely in wolf's
fur, and having a shock head of flaxen hair, which he seemed to comb
on an average once in a year, left us in a wooded gorge to shift for
ourselves, as he knew full well that the rocks and thickets on both
sides were manned by his Prussian friends. We were thus caught in an
ambush of infantry led by Count Hatzfeld in person! From both sides
of the path there suddenly opened a destructive fire upon us. Night
was just closing, and an immediate confusion ensued. After a short
and feeble resistance the Dragoons de Brissac, believing themselves
to be, as the French say, _écharpe_, or cut to pieces, fell back in a
panic on our infantry, who were about a mile in the rear, and we,
finding ourselves alike bewildered and unsupported, retired, leaving
several of our comrades shot or unhorsed. Among these, unnoticed and
unseen, was our Colonel, the Vicomte de Chateaunoir, whose horse had
been killed by a musket-shot. The animal, after plunging thrice,
fell heavily, and severely bruised the rider's right leg, which was
crushed by its weight in his jack-boot, though the latter was lined
by ribs of tempered iron. Thus he lay helpless and unable either to
rise or extricate himself. Close by him lay a chevalier of the
Golden Fleece, gorgeously attired, with silver aiguilettes on his
shoulders. The blood was oozing from a wound in his breast.
Chateaunoir strove to staunch it, and ultimately succeeded.
"'Leave me, monsieur,' said the sufferer, who was in great agony;
'leave me that I may die, and go to that God who for you and me
suffered more than I this night endure!'
"With these pious words he became insensible, and this chevalier, so
daring and devout, was poor Prince Xavier of Saxony, who was
afterwards slain on the field of Minden.
"The moon rose above the mountains to light the scene of this
misfortune, and while stretched on the ground, enduring great pain
and thirst, Vicomte Chateaunoir had the horror of beholding many of
his wounded companions butchered (even as he, perhaps, was butchered
at Minden!) by the sabres of some prowling Jagers in search of
plunder; and though he lay still, feigning death, such would too
probably have been his own fate, had not a sudden torrent of rain
mercifully driven them into an adjacent wood for shelter.
"Believing himself to be now altogether lost--for if not rescued by
his French comrades, he was certain when day dawned to be slain by
the Jagers or the Westphalian peasantry--he lay bruised, sore, and
helpless under the drenching rain, and was on the point of becoming
insensible from exhaustion and suffering, when the tremulous light of
a lantern gleamed along the wet grass, and glinted on the scattered
weapons, the shot-riven soil, and the pale faces of the dead. Two
dark figures approached noiselessly, and then he heard a female
crying--
"'Hatzfeld--Count Hatzfeld;' and near him there passed a young woman
of great beauty, muffled to her chin in a mantle of furs, and
attended by an old man bearing a lantern, the light of which, (while
shuddering at the terrors it revealed), they turned from aide to side
on the faces of the dead and wounded among whom they threaded their
way.
"'If you seek Count Hatzfeld, madame, you seek in vain,' said the
vicomte, faintly.
"'Who spoke?' said the lady, pausing in terror.
"'I--a wounded Frenchman!'
"'And wherefore say you so, monsieur?' asked the lady, while her
large dark eyes seemed to dilate with alarm; 'is he wounded--slain?'
"'Nay, I hope not, as _you_ are interested in his safety; but he has
simply fallen back with his victorious infantry towards the town of
Munden.'
"'Thanks--thanks,' said she, turning away; and then, seeing by the
light of her lantern that the speaker was a young and very handsome
man, she added--'Pardon my selfish anxiety, for Count Hatzfeld is my
husband; but you--who are you?'
"'To-night I am your humble servant, madame; this morning I was
colonel of the brave Mousquetaires Gris, under Louis XV.'
"'Your name----'
"'Henri, Vicomte de Chateaunoir.'
"'Who was the first to cross the Rhine at Cologne?'
"'I had that honour, madame.'
"'Oh, monsieur, I have heard of you very often.'
"'Then I would pray you, madame, a Prussian though you be, to give me
but a cup of water; for even under this falling rain I am dying of
thirst.'
"The Countess of Hatzfeld hastened to give him some wine from a flask
borne by her attendant, and she even proposed to remain beside him.
"'I would rather perish of cold and exhaustion, or die by the knives
and sabres of those rascally Jagers or Uskokes, than have you remain
here in such a pitiless night as this, lady,' replied Chateaunoir.
'I am a Mousquetaire Gris. I thank you, Madame la Comtesse; but
leave me to my fate, I have done my duty to God and his Most
Christian Majesty, and am quite willing to leave the event to chance.'
"But this dame with the gentle eyes and black tresses was one of the
Douglases of Esthonia,* and was resolved to leave the event in the
hands of one quite as fickle as fate, to wit, herself, and she
protested that she would not and could not quit the vicomte; but with
the assistance of her old valet, whose silence and fidelity could
evidently be relied on, she succeeded in extricating him from his
fallen charger; she bound up the bruises of his limb, and, supported
partly by the hard paw of the old German valet on one side, and by
her soft arm on the other, he was conveyed to an adjacent mansion, of
which the Prussians had taken possession. It stood about a mile from
the field; and there the lady laid him on a couch, and attended him
with every care, while her attendant a cunning old fellow--kept
watch, to announce when the count, a young and fiery soldier who had
vowed extermination to the enemies of the Great Frederick, should
return.
* Where the ruins of their castle are still to be seen on the
Douglasberg. They were descended from a Scottish Douglas who served
the Teutonic knights.
"When Chateaunoir found himself in a luxurious bed, within a handsome
apartment, hung with green silk festooned by golden cords and massive
tassels, and having buhl toilet-tables, covered with Mechlin lace
festooned with white and silver; large oval mirrors, lighted by
rose-coloured candles in girondoles of glittering crystal, and vases
of flowers between, he believed himself to be in a dream, the more
so, as with half-closed eyes he saw a beautiful woman, with
remarkably white hands, long tremulous eyelashes, and fine eyes,
gliding noiselessly about his couch, and from time to time watching
over his slumbers and recovery. So he thought,
"''Tis a spirit-woman, and this is some enchanted castle on the
Rhine, or _under_ it, perhaps. In Paris, I have often heard tales of
such adventures in this land of diablerie, and seen them, too, in the
theatres.'
"But the hands and arms of this 'spirit woman,' when they touched the
vicomte were remarkably unlike those of a spectre or spirit;
moreover, she had a bright roguish eye, and, by her manner, seemed
not at all reluctant to receive compliments, or to indulge in a
little innocent coquetry, being, as most pretty women are, charmed by
the admiration she excited. She had resided long at Berlin, and as
our young colonel was almost fresh from the King's antechamber at
Versailles, she was charmed to find a chevalier so gallant in that
sequestered district which lay between the Weser and the (then) wild
forests of Paderborn.
"Three days slipped pleasantly away at that quiet old German chateau.
"On the evening of the 3rd, the galloping of horses was heard in the
avenue, and Count Hatzfeld, still flushed by the success of his
ambuscade, which, for a time, had completely delayed the advance of
the Maréchal Duc de Broglio towards Munden, accompanied by a squadron
of Blue Prussian Hussars, arrived at the mansion, and, without
removing his soiled and blood-stained uniform, hastened to embrace
his countess. Pale and confused, the latter had barely time to
conceal the vicomte in a secret alcove, or ancient hiding-place which
she had discovered, and which opened by a sliding panel at _the back_
of the couch, whereon he had been reposing when Hatzfeld entered, and
after a few gay words of greeting, threw aside his hussar cap,
gloves, sabre, and rich pelisse, and with an exclamation of pleasure,
satisfaction, and weariness, stretched himself on the same place and
the same pillow where the vicomte had lain but a moment before!
"Trembling with apprehension, and paler than ever, the poor little
countess sat near a mirror, dreading even the expression of her own
face, and scarcely trusting herself to speak.
"And now scarcely a long, tedious, and terrible hour had elapsed,
when a casual sound, or some vague suspicion excited by her peculiar
manner, prompted Hatzfeld suddenly to unclose the long panel of the
alcove, wherein lay the stranger almost side by side with himself.
With a shout of angry astonishment, the count leaped up, and sprang
to his lately relinquished sabre.
"'Stay,' exclaimed the countess, throwing herself upon his sword-arm;
'he is only a poor wounded man, whom I have saved and concealed.'
"'In my bed--or beyond it--could you find no more fitting place,
madam?' exclaimed her husband, endeavouring to free himself from her
impetuous grasp, while sombre fury and fierce suspicion sparkled in
his eyes.
"'Hatzfeld--believe me--Hatzfeld, I speak the truth!'
"'Swear that you do,' said he, menacing her white neck with the
gleaming weapon.
"'I swear it,' she exclaimed, 'by our Lady of Oetingen, I swear----'
"'What?'
"'That he is only a poor stranger.'
"'And that you never saw him before?'
"'Never before the night of the ambush.'
"'And that he is----who?' queried the count, sternly.
"'A mousquetaire of King Louis.'
"'O Christi Kreutz! a soldier of King Louis!' reiterated the count;
'what matters it--Frenchman or Austrian--one can reach hell as soon
as the other!'