LITTLE PETROVKA
I
The Emperor was often in personal danger during the retreat from
Moscow, but never more so, I think, than after the Battle of Krasnoe.
You must depict us at this time as a rabble rather than an army. There
were few regiments save those of the Guard which maintained even a
semblance of order. Men fell out at a whim. We had nothing upon
either side of us but the frozen steppes and the woods in which the
wolves howled. Our own people had burned the villages through which we
straggled towards a distant horizon of our salvation. The road itself
was black with the bodies of the dying and dead. I shall not dwell
upon such pitiful scenes, but recall only those which seem to me of
interest to my fellow countrymen.
Often have I been asked how the Emperor carried himself during these
days, and that is a question which I have made some attempt already to
answer.
Chiefly he walked with the grenadiers. There were occasions when he
entered his famous travelling carriage, and passed some hours in it;
but no one was more ready than he to share the hardships of the
journey, and certainly none faced peril with a greater sang-froid. How
it came about that His Majesty escaped disaster, I cannot tell you.
There were many occasions when a little courage upon the part of the
Cossacks would have destroyed the hope of France for ever. So often
were we who guarded him but a palsied band of nondescripts, that I
wonder to this day at that hesitation which allowed the greatest of our
soldiers to slip through Russian hands.
Let me give you an instance to show what I mean.
It was the morning of November 25th. We had passed a forlorn village
some miles beyond Krasnoe. The column was headed by a bevy of
generals, few of whom were mounted. Behind them there marched a
miserable company of officers, all dragging themselves along painfully,
and not a few of them having their feet frozen, and wrapped in rugs or
bits of sheepskin. The Emperor himself marched in the midst of the
cavalry of the Guard. He went on foot, and carried a baton. His cloak
was large and lined with fur, and upon his head he wore a dark red
velvet cap with a trimming of black fox. Prince Murat walked on his
right-hand side, and on his left Prince Eugene, while behind him came
the Marshals Berthier, Ney, Mortier, and Lefebvre, with others whose
regiments had been almost annihilated in the recent battles.
Behind these again were the officers and non-commissioned officers of
the Guard. There were seven or eight hundred of them walking in
perfect silence, and carrying the eagles of their different regiments.
The scene itself was an open plain glistening with frost, and often
broken by those dismal clumps of pines with which we were so familiar.
A village lay ahead of us, a ravine and a river upon our right hand.
We knew that the Cossacks were sheltered by the distant woods, and that
any moment might bring them down upon us. And yet we went as stolidly
as men who are marching from a field of victory.
Is it to be wondered at that the Russians were perplexed by these
tactics, and that even the boldest of them had no heart for a venture
which would have destroyed the hope of France in a twinkling?
This is not to tell you that they did not attack us. Hardly had we
come up to the outskirts of the village when we perceived a battery
drawn up by the river and another before the very gates of the hamlet.
We had no guns with us at the moment, and we stood there like sheep
while the Russians pounded us and their shells decimated our tottering
ranks. Lame and helpless and weary, weakened by hunger and the perils
of the march, who would have said that so pitiful a force could have
withstood the assault even of five thousand brave men? Yet, as I say,
they were content to pound us with their artillery, and although we saw
great masses of their cavalry about the village, never once did they
charge us as we expected them to do.
Presently our own guns came up, and we were able to meet the enemy on
better terms. Marshal Ney now put himself at the head of the
chasseurs, and boldly charged the Cossacks to the left of the village.
His troops suffered severely in this onset, and when he returned to us
the frozen plain was dotted with the writhing forms of our countrymen
who had been shot down. These poor fellows had suffered so much during
recent days that for the most part they died without a struggle. Such
as survived were left to the mercy of the Russians, for we were in no
position to help them, and we had to suffer the mortifying spectacle of
seeing the wounded stripped bare and left upon the snows by the fiends
who came out of the woods.
I thought surely that His Majesty was lost this day, and when I saw him
standing in the very path of the shells, surrounded by no more than
forty Fusiliers of the Guard, it seemed indeed to me that the end had
come. The Cossacks had but to charge and their booty would have been
sure. That they did not do so must be set down to those motives of
prudence which animated their General Kutusoff to the end. He knew
that the Grand Army was perishing before his eyes, and that the
elements would do what the Russians themselves had left undone. When
he retired that day we must have lost at least three thousand men, who
were left in the hands of his butchers.
But the Emperor was saved by such cowardice, and he slept that night in
the village which Kutusoff's guns had failed to hold.
II
The morning broke clear and sunny, but hardly were we upon the road
when the north wind began to blow and our sufferings to recommence.
The Russians had drawn off for the time being, and we neither saw them
nor heard their guns. The troops themselves, no longer fearing an
attack, marched in that disorder of which I have spoken. Hardly a
regiment could have been distinguished even by one familiar with our
army. We were but scattered groups of malcontents, and every man
thought only of his own safety.
I had not seen my nephew Leon during the battle, and was very glad to
re-discover him not far from the bivouac. He was marching with other
officers of the Velites when I came up, and I perceived at once that he
had made a captive. The latter might, at the first glance, have been
taken for a lad of seventeen, clad in stout riding-breeches, and
wearing a tunic of rich fur.
The bright eyes of the prisoner and the cheerful manner evidently won
upon my comrades, and I was not very much astonished to discover
presently that the prisoner was of the other sex, and to hear that she
had been caught in the village that very morning, and herself had
volunteered to show us the road to the Berezina.
Such things happened almost every day while we were in Russia, and for
a native woman to adopt the garb of a soldier was by no means an
uncommon thing. The only difference in this case was that the girl
herself appeared to be well born, and beyond the station where such
monkey tricks would be looked for. It occurred to me at once that she
might have been sent out to betray us, and I spoke of it to Leon before
he had gone a league.
"Where did you find her?" I asked him.
He parried the question, as a young man would when he has found a
companion to his liking.
"She came out of the last house in the village just as we were marching
past. I wish I could understand their cursed lingo, mon oncle. I
think she comes from a place called Druobona, but am not very sure. In
either case, it does not matter," he added carelessly, "for I do not
suppose she will go back there when we have done with her."
This was said with a laugh which I did not like to hear, and I rebuked
him sharply for his levity.
"The girl is well born," said I, "and this is neither the place nor the
time to think of such things. Why do you allow her to go upon such an
errand at all? Are there not other guides?"
He looked at me slyly.
"None so pretty, mon oncle; and besides, a man can always make a woman
understand. She will get us very well to the Berezina, and there we
shall send her back with a present."
"Of horseflesh," said I; and then: "The whole thing is nonsense, and
you are likely to pay a high price for her company. Remember what I am
saying."
He promised to do so, but immediately linked his arm in hers and began
to sing one of our old marching songs. We must have gone another
league before he told me that her home was in a village some few miles
to the south of the route the army was taking, but really upon the old
main road to the Berezina.
"You and I will give them the slip at dusk," said he, "and take our
luck again. I will wager the girl's honesty against a hundred crowns.
We can stop the night at her father's house and get food. Do not look
so displeased, mon oncle. We will take twenty of our fellows to see
that the Cossacks do not cut our throats, and we shall be half a day's
march on the road to the river before the army has left the next
bivouac."
I did not like the idea of it, but when a man is making love to a
pretty woman, and she has asked him to her house, there is an end of
the argument.
Petrovka, for such the men would call the girl, certainly disarmed
suspicion by her frank airs and the merry laughter which lighted up her
eyes. She made a handsome boy enough, and it was good to see her
dancing across the snow which so many trod with difficulty, and to hear
the cheering words of encouragement she bestowed upon all who lagged
behind.
The men had come to believe that she was quite a mascot, and soon we
must have had a hundred and fifty of the Guard about our party. This
was unexpected and not in accord with friend Leon's plan. I believe it
had been his secret hope that he and I should go alone to her father's
house, but when the sun began to sink upon the horizon, and we left the
main road for one which branched towards the south, the whole company
followed us immediately. Vain to tell them that our errand was
private. The time had passed when officers could have their will in
such matters as this; and so it befell that exactly a hundred and fifty
men set out to share Petrovka's hospitality, and were determined to
enjoy it whatever the difficulties.
III
We went marching and singing, and utterly regardless of any perils that
might await us upon the road.
For that matter, we saw no Cossacks, and even our old friends the
wolves were silent.
The country itself had become less monotonous, and we soon found
ourselves in a deep ravine, whose rugged cliffs were capped by the
frozen pines.
Here there was a wonderful suggestion of remoteness and solitude; but
it occurred to me, nevertheless, that it might be the very spot for an
ambush, and I insisted upon a halt until our vedettes had made their
reports. We even sent a man up to the heights above to be quite sure
that the Cossacks were not camped in the thickets. When these had
reported that no living thing moved in all that drear place, we
followed Petrovka again and began to think of supper.
She had told us that it was just three leagues from the high road to
her father's house, but we must have marched at least five before we
came, without warning, upon a miserable village, the outstanding
feature of which was the low and straggling farmhouse with a mighty
barn at the southern end of it. Of a seigneur's habitation there was
no sign whatever, and I found it difficult to believe that Petrovka's
father could inhabit such a shabby dwelling as that to which she now
led us. When we asked her if it were indeed her home, she, to our
great astonishment, answered us in French, and replied that it was not.
"My father lives many, many leagues from here," she said, and laughed
at the words. "This is the house of the moujik Serges. He was one of
my father's servants, and he will feed you, my lords." And this she
said with so pretty a grace that our anger was mollified in a moment.
"Why did you pretend not to speak French?" I asked her next.
She shook her head and said that she did not know.
"You make me laugh so much when you talk Russian," she said. I believe
that to have been true.
Nevertheless, I was not easy. We had come upon a false errand, and it
remained to be seen what was the end of it.
"Let every man look to his powder," said I to Leon, as we entered the
precincts of the farm. "The devil and a woman are never far apart;
mind that we have not caught the pair of them."
He retorted that it did not very much matter either way. Whatever
befell us at the farm could be no worse than the peril of the high road
and of such a bitter night as this.
Not only was it black and dark by this time, but the north wind blew
intolerably, and our very bones seemed shrunken.
You will imagine, therefore, that the baying of the hounds about the
farm was as music to us; and you can depict us beating heavily upon the
farmer's door, while Petrovka cried aloud in Russian that we were
friends.
This settled the matter, and an old and grizzled peasant appeared
immediately, and stood bowing on the threshold. I disliked the look of
him from the first, and shall always remember the hawk-like eyes which
he turned upon our company. Yet what had we to fear from the handful
of serfs who now gathered about him--we, a hundred and fifty men of the
Guard, with our muskets in our hands?
And was there not Petrovka, with her laughing eyes--Petrovka, who told
the old man that he would be paid for all that we had--Petrovka, who
petted him and pulled his long beard as though she loved every hair of
it. She stood as our hostage, and she knew it--the pretty little girl.
Well, we soon discovered that the kitchen of the farm would accommodate
no more than the officers of the company, and it behoved the others to
seek the shelter of the barn. This they did with a very good grace,
for it was a substantial edifice, with a monstrous fireplace at one end
and a well-stacked granary at the other. Soon there were flames
roaring up the ancient chimney, a babel of talk, and the going to and
fro of men who saw themselves supping handsomely for the first time for
many a day. We, meanwhile, were ensconced in the farmer's kitchen,
with nearly the half of an ox roasting in his gigantic oven and an
aroma of well-warmed wine which did one good to smell.
The evening promised to be the most comfortable we had enjoyed since we
left Moscow--so little did we foresee what lay beyond our present
content.
IV
There were a good many bedrooms in the farmer's house, and some of
these were very properly given up to the officers.
I shared a room with Leon, whose window immediately overlooked the barn
wherein our men were still enjoying the unexpected carousal.
Mademoiselle Petrovka, in her turn, said that she would sleep with the
girls of the house, and the last I saw of her before retiring was at
the moment when Master Leon blew out the candle for the purpose of
wishing her good-night. Escaping from his embrace, she climbed the
narrow staircase and shut the door at the head of it upon us, while we,
amazed to discover beds, made haste to enjoy so unexpected a luxury.
Never before in my life, I swear, did I know the meaning of good
blankets as I learned it that bitter night, when the north wind swept
the dismal plain and the pines were swaying in a dirge of death. For
that matter, I do not think that my nephew and myself could wholly
appreciate the reality of our good fortune, and I lay for some time
beneath the heavy _Steppdecke_ wondering if we had not dreamt the whole
of it. Such warmth and comfort were not to be imagined, and we found
it almost impossible to believe that thousands of our comrades were
then shivering and suffering upon the great high road, and many of
them, I doubt not, falling to the terrible sleep from which no day
should wake them.
We, on the contrary, might have been the children of this hospitable
house. Well fed and warmed by wine, we fell into so profound a sleep
anon that nothing but the terrible tragedy which ensued could have
wakened us. Alas! that it was so very terrible! I hardly know how to
tell you of it.
Some say that it was nearly four in the morning when the first alarm
arose. I cannot be sure about so trivial a circumstance, nor is it of
any interest. In my sleep it seemed to me that men were shouting about
the house, while a great flame of crimson light burned my eyes and
forbade me to open them. A man has the same sensation when he tries to
look at the sun at noon, and it may be answered that he is a fool to do
anything of the kind. So, in my own case, I did not open my eyes for a
long time, and not until Leon's strong hand dragged me from the bed did
I understand what was happening.
"Wake up, mon oncle!" says he in a sharper voice than ordinary. "Don't
you see that the place is afire?"
It was a word to arouse any man, and I staggered up when I heard it,
rubbing my eyes and trying to understand him.
"How?" cried I. "The farm afire? Why, then, did you not wake me
before?"
"I have been trying to do so for the last five minutes, but you sleep
like a Gascon, mon oncle. Get your clothes on and follow me. There
will not be a man of them alive if we don't make haste."
With this he ran down the stairs, and left me groping in the fitful
light for my tunic and the heavy sable coat which I had brought out of
Russia.
It was clear by this time that the fire had begun in the barn which
harboured so many of our men, and that it had not yet reached the
buildings we occupied. For all that, it promised to be a terrible
conflagration, and my ears were assailed already by the woeful screams
of the wretched company, themselves waking to the peril. What kept the
poor fellows in the barn, I knew no more than the dead. I could see
two great doors opening upon the yard, and they were wide enough to let
a wagon go through. Yet no one unbarred them, and all the time flames
and smoke were pouring from the thatch above, and the shrieks of the
imprisoned growing louder. This perplexed me beyond words, and it was
not until I had shaken the heavy sleep from my eyes that the thought of
treachery occurred to me, and I began to understand much that had
happened.
The monster of a farmer who had lured us here--he had done it, I said,
and God knows, if I had had my hand about his throat at the moment, I
would have strangled the life out of him.
Well, I bounded down the stairs at the thought, and found myself
immediately amid my brother officers, who were striving like madmen to
set their compatriots free. Unable to hear a word that was spoken, I
nevertheless understood by their gestures that the main gates of the
barn had been bolted and barred, and that, until they could be
unlocked, the only chance for our fellows was the narrow window at the
southern end. For this I now made, Leon at my side, and others as
ready to risk their lives in the face of such a disaster.
Let me tell you that the roar of the conflagration was like that of a
sea beating angrily upon a barren shore. Commingled with it were the
sounds of rending woodwork and the screams of men already burning in
the flames; while all was made worse by the intolerable north wind
which swept about the building and howled dismally beneath the frozen
eaves.
This paralysed the faculties, so that even the bravest found his limbs
benumbed and his brain bewildered. No company of raw recruits could
have worked to less purpose--some crying for hatchets, some vainly for
water, yet all incapable of rendering any useful aid, and all equally
terrified by the spectacle they beheld. Alas! to see those pitiful
faces at the window of the barn above; to watch the flames creeping
about them; to behold them fall one by one into the deadly furnace
behind them; and to know that they were Frenchmen and brethren! Such
was the price of the brief respite we had enjoyed; such was the
hospitality that the woman Petrovka had shown us.
Someone got a ladder about this time, and others found axes in the
wood-house of the farm. I was among the latter, and I remember with
what fury our little party attacked the great front gates and tried to
force an entrance. Could we but burst the bolt, our comrades were free
in a twinkling; and you may imagine how we went at it--the blows which
we struck, and the curses we uttered.
Minute by minute now the flames were creeping toward this end of the
barn. We had no need of lanterns; the snow was blood-red, and the very
wood stood out as though the sun were setting and the night not yet
begun. Had we any longer a doubt that treachery had fired the barn,
the disappearance of the Russians themselves would have clenched the
argument. Not a peasant did we see, not a man or woman of those who
had served us last night and welcomed us with such smiling faces. The
whole farm had become a desert, and, be sure, that of them all Petrovka
had been the first to go.
Such was my opinion for a long time, and it endured until, to my great
astonishment, I perceived her at Leon's side, and saw that he was in
close talk with her. Good God! that a man could have argued with such
a woman when his comrades were perishing--that he did not strike her
down where she stood! Any other but Leon would have done so; yet, when
was the day that a woman's eyes could not win him?
All this went through my head in a flash as I hewed at the giant doors
and called upon my comrades to redouble their efforts. The shrieks
within the building were now most dreadful to hear. None but a man of
iron could have remained deaf to the piercing cries which marked the
approach of the fire and told us that our task must be impotent. None
the less, we worked with a vigour unimaginable, while the heat became
choking, and showers of glowing sparks rained down upon us. The very
snow was melted far away from the barn by this time; the sky had turned
blood red; the branches of the trees were burning. The great door
alone stood between our comrades and salvation.
In the end we beat this in, and an aperture was made. Through that we
dragged some thirty men and carried them quickly to the farm. Poor
fellows, they were terribly burned, and their flesh fell from their
bones as we lifted them. What lay beyond in that holocaust I did not
dare to inquire. The barn was now but a roaring furnace; the cries had
ceased; the moaning of the fire and the night wind alone remained.
V
I have told you that we laid our stricken comrades in the farmhouse and
there did what we could for them. So great was their need that the
immediate necessity of relieving it put everything else into the shade,
and it was not until we had dressed their wounds and done our best to
make them comfortable that I so much as remembered the woman Petrovka.
Perhaps I should not have thought of her even then but for the fact
that a sudden clamour discovered her in the room, and, turning about, I
witnessed a violent altercation between her and one of the sick, who
raised himself up from the mattress where they had laid him, and cried
out that she had fired the barn.
"The she-devil!" he yelled in his frenzy. "I saw her do it, comrades;
I swear she was the woman!"
Such an accusation naturally arrested the attention of everyone in the
room. Leon himself had gone out again with others to prevent the fire
from spreading to the neighbouring buildings, and there was no one
there but myself who knew anything of Petrovka. The effect of the
accusation upon the sick and the hale was almost magical. They did not
ask for the man's proof, nor seek to question him, but, seizing the
girl by the arm, they would have struck her down there and then had I
not intervened.
"Come, come," said I; "we must do nothing in haste," for though I had
been willing enough an hour ago to have acted upon an impulse, the heat
of passion had passed and a sense of justice prevailed.
If this girl had indeed fired the barn, I would not lift a hand to save
her; but we had only the chasseur's word for it, and he was already far
gone in delirium. So it seemed to me that we owed her at least the
formality of a trial, and, rushing in before those who held her, I
commanded them to hear me.
"Gentlemen," said I, "this woman is a Russian and well born. It is
difficult to believe that she would have done so foul a thing. If she
be guilty she must pay the penalty, but let us hear her first. You
will all admit the justice of that. Let her be tried and put to the
proof, but do not do anything of which you may repent to-morrow."
They heard me with impatience. The child herself clung to me, frantic
with terror, her eyes imploring me and her body trembling with fear.
Her words were almost incoherent, but nevertheless they denied the
truth of the charge vehemently and implored me for God's sake to save
her. So much I do not believe I could have done but for Leon, who
entered the room at the moment, and, perceiving the situation, leaped
towards her, drawing his sword as he did so.
"By the God in heaven," cried he, "I will cut down any man who lays a
finger on her." And it needed but a glance at him to see that he meant
every word of it.
Such determination was not without its effect. There were both
officers and troopers in the room, but I was the senior in command, and
I never lost sight of the fact for a moment.
"Gentlemen," said I, "name three of you to act with me as judges in
this matter, and I promise you satisfaction. If the woman be guilty
she shall be hanged. Come now--is not this a proper course to take?
Some of you will have daughters of your own. Do not forget them at
such a moment as this."
They assented to the proposition, though I could see that they were far
from being appeased. There was a hurried consultation among them, and
then the intimation that they had chosen Captains Legard and Fournier,
of the fusiliers, and Major Duhesne, of the _chasseurs a cheval_, to
act with my nephew and myself. The major stood as spokesman for the
others, and first addressed the company.
"It must be here in this room, gentlemen," he said; "the witness cannot
be moved; we will try the woman here." And that was a claim none could
contest.
I shall never forget the scene which now ensued, nor the grim drama we
played in that mean farmhouse during the next ten minutes. All about
us were the tumbled mattresses and the stricken forms of the men who
had been scorched by the flames. Common rushlights and miserable
lanterns afforded the only illumination that we had. The trial was
held about the stove, whereby there lay the sick man who had denounced
Petrovka. She herself was set in a circle amid her judges, while the
man was commanded by me to repeat the accusation he had made. He did
so with a restraint which astonished me when I remembered his
sufferings. Raising himself up in bed, he turned his haggard eyes upon
the woman and told us what he knew.
"I was asleep in the little loft of the barn," he said; "then I heard a
sound of someone moving in the straw about me. Thinking it was one of
our men, I asked him what he did there; but there was no answer, and
for a little while nobody stirred. Presently I heard a crackling sound
and smelt fire, and at that I looked up and saw the thatch was ablaze.
Then there came light in the place, and I saw the woman. She was
creeping down the ladder, but I recognised her all the same. She
stands there, messieurs, and she knows that it is true."
A deep cry of anger escaped the auditors when the man had done.
Obviously he did not lie, and his evidence staggered even me. Petrovka
herself heard him with a wonder no art could have aped, and her very
attitude was an appeal to reason where I was concerned.
Upon my comrades its effect was far otherwise. There were shouts of "a
mort!" from every quarter of the room. Some said, "Let her speak!"
others were for not hearing her at all. My loud word of command alone
saved her from the imminence of death.
"Gentlemen," said I, "this story is all very well, but it is possible
that this man may be mistaken. What confirmation have you of the
story? Let the girl speak for herself; I see she is ready."
I turned to Petrovka, and was astonished at her new demeanour. She
appeared to have recovered her composure altogether. Her face was pale
but wonderfully beautiful. She had removed her cap, and her almost
golden hair fell upon her shoulders in a disorder pretty to see.
Looking from one to the other of us, she declared her innocence.
"Frenchmen," she said, "I was never in the loft of the barn at all. My
father is a Russian noble--do we stoop to such crimes as this? I am a
woman, and I have a woman's heart; why do you accuse me of such
wickedness?"
It was a proud defiance, but it availed her nothing. No one believed
her, and all in the room, save Leon and myself, desired her death. In
vain I put it to them that some other woman from the farm might have
done the deed. They would hear nothing, and presently they began to
cry "Vote--vote!" and instantly the others held up their hands and
proclaimed her guilty.
Now this was a terrible moment for me, and not the less terrible to my
nephew. Hurriedly we drew apart and began to ask each other what could
be done. It was plain that we had the whole company against us, and at
the best we could but hope to temporise. The one thing to do was to
save the child from a vengeance which certainly would not be tempered
by mercy, and in the hope of this I now addressed myself to the other
judges.
"The girl is well born, as you can see," said I; "it is idle to suppose
she has done such a thing. Beware that you do not pay heavily for your
haste. We shall overtake the army in the morning, and the matter can
be referred to head-quarters. You would be much wiser to let it go
there. Do you desire the girl's death? I cannot believe it,
gentlemen."
It was all unavailing.
"We have judged her," said the major, "and she is plainly guilty. My
determination is to hang her without ceremony, and that," he said,
turning to his companions, "is the vote of the majority."
Now Leon had listened to this moment without protest, but these words
were too much for him. Catching Petrovka suddenly by the arm, he drew
her close to him, and whipped his sword from his scabbard as one who
would brook no denial.
"By God," said he, "you shall do nothing of the kind!"
It was a brave deed, and would to God it could have saved her.
Unhappily such heroism as this is well enough in a story, but of little
avail when the realities of life are at stake. There were twenty men
atop of my nephew before another word could be uttered, and dragging
Petrovka from his arms, they carried her triumphantly from the room.
She did not utter a single cry. I thought there was a smile upon her
face, but it was the look of a woman who knows how to suffer.
VI
Dawn was just breaking in a sullen sky at this time. The wind had
fallen somewhat, and it was snowing heavily. I remember the scene very
well--and, in truth, who could forget it? There to the right were the
ruins of the barn; behind us the low buildings of the farm; before us
the orchard of the house and the white snow-fields beyond it.
Without a word said, and acting upon a common impulse, the
assassins--for such I must now call them--led Petrovka towards a beech
tree by the roadside, and clamoured loudly for a rope. Such a lust for
a woman's death is rare among soldiers, and it needed the tragedy of
the night to have provoked it.
What could we do? There was still the opportunity of parley, and we
did not neglect it. They had not found a rope readily, and while they
were still seeking it I addressed myself to Major Duhesne, and again
implored him to remember what he was doing.
"The Emperor," said I, "will never forgive you if this woman is proved
to be innocent."
I might as well have addressed myself to the wall of the house. His
rejoinder was such as I might have expected. The woman had fired the
barn, he said; there was evidence of that fact. This was just the kind
of deed His Majesty punished without mercy. Why should his officers be
less zealous?
All of which was said with the air of a man absolutely set upon a
purpose, and acting under a strong sense of duty. The others were not
less determined, and, unhappily, they had now found a rope, and carried
it triumphantly to the beech tree I have named. The scene at this
moment was very terrible to look upon: the figure of the girl pathetic
beyond imagination, and the savagery of her enemies indescribable. It
was revolting to hear the shouts of anger when the executioners
attempted to throw the cord across a branch of the tree and failed to
do so. I could not have believed that Frenchmen would have acted so.
Now, for the second time, was this brutal murder delayed while a ladder
must be sent for. In this I perceived the hand of God, and my heart
beat fast while the moments of respite were numbered. Would we yet
save her? Might we dare to hope? A shout from the woods near by
answered me. As God is my witness, the Cossacks were upon us. They
rode from the thicket like a whirlwind; their scimitars whistled
through the air with a sound of rushing winds.
What a turn-about that was! No cries of savage exultation now; no talk
of justice and penalty--nothing but a mad race for the shelter of the
farm and all the hurly-burly of a wild pursuit. There before my very
eyes I saw Frenchmen cleaved to the brisket; saw the heads of comrades
roll upon the snow, and heard the screams of those whom the glittering
steel cut down. The thunder of hoofs upon the hard snow rang out like
weird music of an Eastern dawn. The breath of horses and men froze on
the still air. The ground was black already with the figures of the
dead.
And what of ourselves meanwhile? Incredible, a man would say, that we
could stand there, my nephew and I, and escape the swords of these
terrible Asiatics. Yet such was the case.
Our very desire to save Petrovka had been the instrument of this
miracle. No sooner had the others run for the farm than we were at her
side, bidding her be of good cheer and seeking still to protect her.
Of such protection, however, she had now no need. The men who came
from the woods were her friends; they knew her. The words which passed
between the captain and herself were those which commanded our safety.
A proud little lady she was in that moment, God knows! The laughter
had come back to her eyes.
"I never believed that they would kill me," she said to Leon.
Who would have wished to destroy such a fine illusion? Not I, for a
truth, when every Frenchman in the farm was now dead or a prisoner of
the Tartars, who caroused where yesterday we had made merry.
VII
We did not return to the farm, nor have any further word with the
Russians. Petrovka had recovered all her wits by this time, and she
made it plain to us that such a course might be dangerous.
"I will do what I can for your friends," she said, "and afterwards I
shall return to my father's house. You, meanwhile, go at once to
Wilna, and say nothing of what you have seen. That must be a point of
honour between us, messieurs. I give you your lives, and you pay me by
your silence. God speed; and do not forget little Petrovka."
We swore that we would never do so. She led us to the stables
thereafter, and so we found our horses. A word to the Cossack at the
gate made everything easy for us; and be sure that Petrovka took good
care to see that food and wine for the journey were found for us. It
must have been ten of the day when we quitted the farm at last and
waved a long farewell to the mistress of this singular adventure.
"A wonderful little woman," said Leon, as we turned our heads at
length. "To think that she knew all the time who burned us out!"
"She did know!" I cried, looking at him with astonishment.
"Certainly; she has just told me. It was Anna, the farmer's daughter.
Petrovka meant to save her. Can you beat that for loyalty?"
I could make no reply. Woman's courage is always very wonderful. What
man will pretend to understand it?