OVER THE FRONTIER
In the carriage Agatha related to her mistress what had occurred after
her disappearance from La Haye. How she had sent Pere Louchet with the
message to Gaillard at Paris, and then had followed on to Tours and
discovered where her mistress was imprisoned. Tournay and Gaillard,
coming post haste to Tours, had reached there on the same day that saw
the transfer of Mademoiselle de Rochefort to the prison-ship upon the
Loire. Together with Agatha, they had formulated a plan of rescue and
put it into immediate execution.
The two men had approached the vessel in a small skiff on the river,
while Agatha had awaited them in a carriage on the other side. The
moving of the prison ship down the river might have disconcerted their
plans had not the watchful Agatha seen the movement, and following along
the shore reached them when they had almost succumbed from the exposure
and cold.
The carriage was a commodious one and well equipped for the long
journey, and in a few minutes Agatha had her mistress in a change of
warm clothing. As soon as Edme was able, she bade Agatha call Tournay to
the carriage door.
"Thanks are a small return for what you have done," she said as he rode
by her side, "yet they are all I have to give." Then she stretched her
hand out to him with an impulsive gesture,--"Robert Tournay, I misjudged
you when you were last at La Thierry. Will you forgive it?"
It was the first time she had spoken to him as one addresses an equal,
and it moved him greatly. He leaned forward and took the hand she gave
him, looking down at her with a smile that lit up his face, as he
said:--
"Mademoiselle, I forgave the words you spoke as soon as they were
uttered. It is happiness enough to know that I have saved you." Before
he released it, he thought he felt the hand in his tremble a little.
The remembrance flashed through her mind, how, years before, she had
once noticed Tournay's manly bearing as he rode into the chateau-court
upon a spirited horse. She had at that time thought him handsome, with
an air about him superior to his station, and then had dismissed him
from her thoughts. As he rode before her now, the water still dripping
from his clothing, hatless, with damp locks clinging to his forehead,
she thought she had never looked upon a nobler figure among all the
gentlemen who in the old days frequented the chateau of the baron, her
father.
"Where are we going?" she asked, with more emotion than such a simple
question warranted.
"To the German frontier," was the reply. "We must travel rapidly night
and day. I shall hardly dare to stop for rest until you are safely over
the border."
"I leave myself in your charge," she said, leaning back in the carriage.
He gave a word of command and the coach rushed forward through the
night.
Tournay's words had recalled vividly to Edme her unhappy situation.
Although innocent of all crime, she was proscribed and forced to fly
from her own country to take refuge among those who were invading it.
And the man who rode by the side of her carriage, and had undertaken to
convey her in safety across the border, was a soldier, fighting for the
government that persecuted her. Laying her head upon Agatha's shoulder
she felt her heart swell with bitterness. For hours, during which Agatha
imagined that she slept, she watched in silence through the window the
dark outlines of the swiftly moving landscape. Finally long after
Agatha's regular breathing announced her slumber, Edme, worn out by the
excitement and fatigue, leaned back in the opposite corner and slept
like a tired child.
For five days the coach rolled toward the frontier, Tournay and Gaillard
riding on horseback.
Through Blois, Orleans, Arcis sur-Aube to Bar-le-Duc and on toward Metz
they went, stopping only to exchange their worn-out horses for fresh
ones, and for such few hours of rest as were absolutely indispensable.
During all the journey, Tournay saw little of Mademoiselle de Rochefort,
although her comfort and her safety were his constant care. The
passport with which he was provided prevented all delay; and it was
thought best that mademoiselle should remain as secluded in the carriage
as possible. When she did step out for a breath of air or a few hours'
rest at some inn she always wore a veil to hide her features. Whenever
he approached her to inform her as to the route they traveled he always
did so with the greatest deference, showing marked solicitude for her
health and comfort; expressing deep regret that the nature of their
journey rendered the great speed imperative.
One afternoon as they crossed the little stream of the Sarre, Tournay,
who had been riding some fifty yards in advance, drew rein and waited
for the carriage to come up to him.
"In an hour, mademoiselle," he said, as in obedience to his signal the
vehicle drew up by the roadside, "we shall be across the frontier, and
in Germany. At Hagenhof resides the Baron von Waldenmeer, who I think is
known to you as your father's friend."
"He was one of my father's friends," Mademoiselle Edme acquiesced.
"I remember having often heard his name mentioned at La Thierry," said
Tournay. "So I took this direction rather than further south, which
would have been somewhat shorter. A few hours will bring us to Hagenhof,
where you will be able to put yourself under the baron's protection."
"And you?" inquired Edme, "what are you going to do?"
"I shall return to France."
* * * * *
The armies of Prussia and Austria, three hundred thousand strong, were
drawing in on France, to help to crush out the Republic and restore the
old regime.
The Baron von Waldenmeer's division was already on the frontier,
quartered at Falzenberg--waiting for other troops to come up before
joining the Austrian army at Wissembourg, near which the French had
concentrated a large force.
On a cold December afternoon two batteries of Prussian heavy artillery
were proceeding through the wood on the road going east from Inweiler,
whence they had been sent to join the main body of troops at Falzenberg.
It was snowing and at five o'clock darkness was already settling down on
the woodland road. Over the snow-carpeted leaves the wheels of the gun
carriages rolled almost noiselessly.
"Paff," growled Lieutenant Saueraugen, wiping the flakes from his
eyelashes for the twentieth time, as he thought of the hot sausages at
that moment being devoured in the mess-room at Falzenberg, and ten miles
between it and him. "A pest on such weather and such slow progress! at
this rate we shall not be at Falzenberg before midnight."
"_Donnerwetter!_ what is this?" he cried with his next breath, as along
the road that crossed from the north came a two-horse carriage at a
rapid gait. The driver of the vehicle saw the battery on the other road,
and tried to check the speed of his horses. The rider on the nigh leader
of the caisson whirled his horse to the left, but it received the
carriage pole on the right foreleg and went to the ground, dragging its
mate with it. Then followed a snorting of frightened animals and a
rattling of harness, flavored with the shouts and oaths of the
lieutenant and his men as they tried to bring order out of the
entanglement.
Two men on horseback rode up from behind the carriage, and with their
assistance the fallen horses were brought to their feet and the broken
harness repaired.
"Who the devil are you that tear through these woods like this?"
demanded the German, examining the abrasure on the leader's leg. "Come,
give account of yourselves." The two riders had remounted and seemed
anxious to be off.
"We are bound for Hagenhof," replied one of them. "We are in a great
hurry, and regret this accident, for which we are entirely to blame.
Name the amount which you think a proper compensation for your injured
horse and broken harness and we will gladly pay it."
He had spoken in German and in the easy, careless manner of one who
deemed the matter too trivial to be the cause of any controversy.
"You are French!" exclaimed the lieutenant, looking at the party
closely.
"We are," replied the man who had spoken before.
"You must accompany me to Falzenberg," said the German officer, "and
interview the general there."
"What does he say?" inquired the second Frenchman of his companion.
"Come, you had best not chatter your French before me," put in the surly
lieutenant, as one of the Frenchmen proceeded to interpret to the other.
"You may be spies for all I know, but that we shall find out when we get
to Falzenberg."
The dark eyes of the second Frenchman looked inquiringly at his comrade.
The other again translated the officer's words.
"We are most unfortunate, Gaillard, to have fallen in with this
imbecile," was the reply.
"My friend commends your prudence and judgment," repeated the
interpreter, his mouth widening and showing his white teeth, "and
desires me to tell you that we have important business at Hagenhof. If
you will send us there under an escort, we shall be able to prove that
we are not spying upon the movement of your troops."
The lieutenant scowled. "Can so few words of your language stand for all
that in German?" he demanded.
The Frenchman laughed lightly as he replied, "Our language is very
flexible."
"So perhaps may be your necks," said the officer brutally, a suspicion
entering his mind that he was being laughed at. "But you must come with
me to Falzenberg, and there's an end of it."
"Why not to Hagenhof?" persisted Gaillard with perfect good-humor.
"To Falzenberg!" roared the Prussian officer, swearing roundly, "and
before we start, let me see what sort of freight you are carrying along
the road." He approached the carriage with the intention of opening the
door.
Tournay wheeled his horse between him and the coach with a suddenness
that made the German jump aside to avoid being trodden upon by the
animal.
"We are going to General von Waldenmeer at Hagenhof," he said, speaking
his own language, "and if you prevent or delay our journey you may rue
it."
The lieutenant, infuriated at this interference, caught Tournay's horse
by the bridle with one hand, while the other flew to his belt; but the
mention of General von Waldenmeer's name and the ring of decision in the
speaker's voice caused him to pause.
"General von Waldenmeer at Hagenhof," repeated Tournay slowly and
distinctly, as if he were speaking to a person of defective hearing.
"Who is making so free with the name of Waldenmeer?" cried a voice in
the French tongue but with a strong German accent; and half a dozen
Prussian officers came riding out of the wood, the fresh-fallen snow
flying from the evergreen branches like white down as their horses drove
through them.
They circled round the group by the carriage, drawing their animals up
with a suddenness that threw them on their haunches.
"Who is it that claims the friendship of von Waldenmeer?" repeated one
of the number, this time speaking in German. He was a young man about
twenty-two, with short, dark red hair, and a small mustache. He rode a
black horse that pranced and curvetted nervously.
"These people, my colonel," said the lieutenant, growing suddenly
polite. "I was about to tell them"--
"Never mind what you were about to tell them, Lieutenant Saueraugen,"
replied the colonel haughtily, "but inform me as briefly as possible
what has occurred."
Confused by the thought that possibly he had been rude to friends of
General von Waldenmeer, the lieutenant stammered through a recital which
was far from clear.
While the lieutenant was speaking, the young Prussian colonel was
slapping his boot sharply with his riding-whip, or checking the
impatient pawing of his horse.
"_Potstausend!_" he exclaimed, interrupting the unhappy lieutenant in
the middle of his story. "I cannot make head or tail of your account,
Saueraugen. Broken harness, and French spies, closed carriage, and
injured horses." Then, turning to Tournay, he addressed him in French:--
"I understand you are on your way to find General von Waldenmeer,--he is
in the field, quartered at present at Falzenberg. You can accompany me
there."
"We are bound for General von Waldenmeer's castle at Hagenhof," replied
Tournay politely, "and with your permission we will proceed there."
"Do you know the general?" inquired the Prussian colonel.
"I have not that honor."
"I am his son, Karl von Waldenmeer, and I think it would be best for you
to accompany me to Falzenberg, where I am going to join my father."
"Perhaps if the baroness is still at Hagenhof it would better suit the
inclination of the lady whom I escort, Mademoiselle de Rochefort, to go
forward rather than be compelled to go to Falzenberg."
Colonel von Waldenmeer sat in thought during the long space, for him, of
five seconds. "I think you would better come with me as far as
Falzenberg," he said.
"As you command," answered Tournay.
"Did I understand you to say that the occupant of that carriage was a
Mademoiselle de Rochefort?" asked the young von Waldenmeer, as Tournay
spoke aside to Gaillard.
"Yes."
"What is the nature of your business with the baron my father?" was the
next question, abruptly put.
"Will you permit me to discuss that with the baron himself?"
"As you will," answered the Prussian colonel with hauteur. Then turning
to the group of officers who had sat motionless upon their horses, he
said:--
"Gentlemen, you will please accompany this carriage to Falzenberg.
Lieutenant Saueraugen, bring up your batteries with all possible speed
and report to me. Franz von Shiffen, you will please come with me." He
gave his black charger a slight touch with the spur, the spirited animal
sprang forward, and he was seen galloping down the road, with Franz von
Shiffen riding hotly after him.
Baron von Waldenmeer, general of the division of the Rhine, was seated
with a beer mug before him and his pipe freshly lit, enjoying his
evening smoke, when word was brought to him that the party of Frenchmen,
encountered by his son and some other members of his staff on the road
from Inweiler, had arrived at Falzenberg, and was now awaiting his
pleasure in the room below. His son, who had come in some time before,
had told him of the incident of the meeting.
The baron blew a cloud of smoke out of his capacious mouth.
"Show the entire party up here at once. We can then hear their story and
decide as to the probability of it. You, Karl, send word to General von
Scrappenhauer that I shall have to defer our party of Skat for an hour.
Ludwig, have your father's beer mug replenished. Would you have his
throat become like the bed of a dried-up stream? And now send up your
Frenchmen; I am waiting for them."
Ludwig von Waldenmeer, who was the picture of his younger brother Karl,
except that he was heavier in build and larger of girth, passed the
beer flagon from his end of the table to his father.
Karl gave a few commands to an orderly, then took a seat by the
general's side. The latter was a man of about sixty. Around his shining
bald pate was a fringe of grizzled hair that had once been red. His
mustache was a bristling, scrubby brush of the same color. Although not
of great height he was broad of chest and still broader about the
waistband; and even in his lightest boots he rode in the saddle at two
hundred pounds.
An orderly opened the door and ushered in the four French travelers.
Mademoiselle de Rochefort entered first. She paused for a moment at the
sight of a room full of officers. Then she took a few steps into the
room and stood awaiting the baron's command. The baron took one look at
the figure before him, then rose suddenly to his feet and came toward
her; the other officers took the signal and rose from their places at
the table and stood beside their chairs.
"You are the daughter of Honore de Rochefort. One has no need to ask the
question, it is answered by your face." And General von Waldenmeer took
Edme by the hand and led her to a seat by his side. Agatha kept at her
mistress's elbow like a faithful guardian.
Tournay and Gaillard, travel-stained and splashed with mud from head to
foot, remained standing by the door.
"If you have come, as I surmise, to find in Prussia a home denied you by
your native land, let me say that nowhere will you find a warmer
welcome than under the roof of von Waldenmeer," and the general put her
hand to his lips.
"I have come," she replied, "to find a refuge from the persecution which
follows me in my own unhappy country. Thanks to the devotion of these
friends," and she turned toward Tournay with a look of gratitude, "I
have been able to reach here in safety, to throw myself upon your
protection, and to ask your advice as to my future movements."
"If you will pardon this reception in a rough soldier's camp,
mademoiselle, and can put up with such poor accommodation as this house
affords, to-morrow you shall be escorted on to Hagenhof, where my wife
will receive you as one of her own daughters." And he bent over her hand
for the second time.
This unusual show of gallantry on the part of their general caused Franz
von Shippen to place his hand before his mouth to hide a smile, while
Ludwig von Waldenmeer looked up at the ceiling.
"Franz," called out the general, "interview the good lady whose house we
occupy and see that the best room she has is prepared for Mademoiselle
de Rochefort. Ludwig, to-morrow you shall have the honor of escorting
this lady to Hagenhof. There you shall be welcome, mademoiselle, as long
as you choose to honor us with your company. But rest assured it will
not be long before your own country will be rescued from the miscreants
who are devouring it. All Europe is in arms to avenge outraged royalty;
the Prussian army of two hundred thousand men is now prepared to march
on Paris. With us are thousands of your own nobility. We make common
cause against anarchy and murder. We shall not rest until we have
restored the monarchy and chastised these insolent Republicans."
Edme looked quickly in the direction of Tournay, fearful lest the
baron's words should stir him to make a reply, but he and Gaillard stood
listening imperturbably. From their quiet and unobtrusive demeanor the
general had taken them for servants of Mademoiselle de Rochefort and had
not given them a second look.
"But you are fatigued, mademoiselle," said von Waldenmeer. "To-morrow
morning will be a more fitting time to discuss your affairs. The good
hausfrau by this time is preparing your quarters. I will conduct you to
them. Your followers will be comfortably cared for outside."
Edme, glad of an opportunity to escape further conversation, was about
to thank the general for his permission to retire to her room, when the
outer door opened and a number of French noblemen, officers of the
general's staff, entered the room.
Among them was the Marquis de Lacheville. His quick roving eye caught
sight of Edme instantly. He stopped in the middle of a conversation with
a companion and looked over his shoulder hastily as if he would retrace
his steps without attracting attention; but it was too late. The deep
voice of General von Waldenmeer sounded in his ears.
"Ah, here are some of your brave countrymen, mademoiselle, who deem it
no disgrace to serve under the flag of Prussia in order to reconquer the
throne for their rightful sovereign."
The door behind de Lacheville was closed by the Count de Beaujeu, who
was the last to enter, and the marquis, drawing a deep breath between
his set teeth, stepped forward as one who suddenly resolves to take a
desperate chance.
"Cousin Edme!" he exclaimed, coming up to where she was seated and
endeavoring to take her hand. "Thank Heaven you have escaped!"
"Yes, I am in a place of safety, thanks to a brave gentleman," she
replied, drawing back her hand. "But do not call me cousin. I ceased to
be your kinswoman when you deserted me at Rochefort. There are no
cowards of our blood." And she turned from him with a look of
unutterable contempt as if he were too mean an object to deserve her
passing notice. She had spoken in a low voice, yet so distinctly that
all in the room heard what she had said. A murmur of surprise ran round
the entire group of officers. The marquis drew back under the rebuff,
his face deadly pale, while he darted at Edme a look of hatred as if he
could have killed her.
"What's that?" roared the general as soon as he could master his
astonishment. "One of my aides a coward?"
De Lacheville gave a quick glance around the room, as a hunted man,
brought suddenly to bay, might seek some weapon to defend himself. As he
caught sight of Tournay, his eyes gleamed wickedly.
"This mad girl," he exclaimed, pointing to Mademoiselle de Rochefort as
soon as he could control his voice, "was once my affianced bride, but
she has found a mate better suited to her liking. She has been traveling
with him throughout France, and now she seeks to extenuate her own
conduct by slandering me, whom she has wronged."
"If you are not the coward mademoiselle has called you, you will answer
to me for that lie," said Tournay, throwing Gaillard's restraining hand
off from his arm and advancing toward the marquis threateningly.
De Lacheville drew back. He remembered the duel in the woods at La
Thierry. He looked again into the dark eyes of the stern man who
confronted him, and his mouth twitched nervously. Then with an effort he
turned to the French gentlemen at his side and said, speaking rapidly,
"This fellow is a Republican, one of those who clamored for King Louis's
death. Shall we forget our oath to kill these regicides wherever we may
find them?"
Before he had finished speaking, three swords were out of their
scabbards and three infuriated French noblemen sprang at Tournay.
"Gott in Himmel!" shouted General von Waldenmeer, as his Prussian
officers beat down the points of the excited Frenchmen, "will you spill
blood here under my very nose? Colonel Karl von Waldenmeer, place those
French gentlemen under restraint, and let there be quiet here while I
examine into these charges."
The Marquis de Lacheville had taken up a position near the door.
"He is Robert Tournay, an officer of the Republican army!" he cried out
as he sheathed his sword. "While he is here in the disguise of a lackey
in waiting to Mademoiselle de Rochefort, his intention is to play the
spy and return with his information to France. For your own sake,
General von Waldenmeer, you should place him where he can do you no such
injury."
"What answer have you to make to this?" said the old general, addressing
Tournay. "Are you a servant of Mademoiselle de Rochefort, or are you a
spy of those Republican brigands? Speak! I condemn no man unheard."
Tournay looked round the room before replying.
"I am a colonel in the Republican army," he said quietly. "But I came
here solely to bring mademoiselle to a place of safety; not to spy upon
your army, which as a matter of fact I thought twenty miles further
east."
General von Waldenmeer broke the silence that followed this avowal.
"You admit that you are an officer in the Republican army. You are
within our lines under very peculiar circumstances. You may have taken
advantage of Mademoiselle de Rochefort's confidence in you to play the
spy. Until it is proven to the contrary, I must take the ground that
both you and your companion are spies, and treat you accordingly.
Colonel von Waldenmeer, you will send for a file of soldiers and place
these two men under arrest."
"General von Waldenmeer!" said Edme de Rochefort, turning toward the old
baron with an appealing gesture, "you are about to commit an act of
grave injustice. Colonel Tournay is guiltless of the charge of being a
spy. The charge was brought against him out of malice and revenge by the
man who has just slandered me so basely."
She did not look at the Marquis de Lacheville, but under the general
gaze which was directed toward him as she spoke, he quailed and shrunk
from the room, shivering as with ague.
"This gentleman," she went on, looking at Tournay gratefully, "has
incurred great danger and endured much privation in order to bring me
here in safety. He has been brave and devoted when others cravenly
deserted me; and if he should be treated by you as a spy it would be as
if I had decoyed him here only to destroy him."
"No, mademoiselle, no," said Robert Tournay in a low tone.
By a quick gesture she bade him be silent.
"General von Waldenmeer, you are a brave soldier. You have professed the
greatest friendship for your old friend's daughter. She now asks you to
release these gentlemen. As a soldier and a gentleman you are bound to
grant her prayer."
She spoke the words simply and in the tone which was natural to her, as
if the request admitted of no denial; and laying her hand upon the
general's arm looked into his rough face.
For a moment he sat in silence. His heavy brows came down until they
shaded his eyes completely. Then taking the hand that rested on his
sleeve, he said:--
"At the risk of neglecting my duty as a soldier, I will grant your
request. These men shall go free, but," he added hastily, as though his
consent to their liberation had been given too quickly, "they must be
kept under surveillance here until to-morrow, and then they shall be
escorted back over the frontier. Colonel von Waldenmeer," he continued,
addressing his son, "I leave you to conduct these French gentlemen to
their quarters. I make you responsible for their keeping."
Edme held out her hand to Tournay. "Good-night, Colonel Tournay," she
said. "It is a great joy and relief to know that you are to come to no
harm through having brought me here. And you, who have done so much for
me, will surely overlook this last and slight indignity which you are
called upon to endure for my sake."
"Mademoiselle," he replied, bending over her hand and speaking in a tone
so low that none other in the room could hear, "there is nothing in the
world I would not endure for your sake. To have you speak to me like
this repays me a thousand-fold. Adieu, mademoiselle. Now, Colonel von
Waldenmeer, I am ready;" and with Gaillard at his side he followed young
von Waldenmeer from the room.