CHARLES'S RECEPTION
It was to this man, destined, unless the fates interfered, to a
remarkable future, that Charles carried a letter of introduction. It was
therefore with almost greater emotion than he had felt in approaching
Schneider and Saint-Just that the boy entered the large but
unpretentious house where Pichegru had made his headquarters.
The sentinel, standing at the entrance to the corridor, told him that
Pichegru was in his cabinet, the third door to the right.
Charles entered the corridor with a firm step that gradually grew slower
and less noisy as he approached the door that had been pointed out to
him.
When he reached the threshold of the half-open door, he could see the
general, leaning with both hands on a table, studying a large map of
Germany; so sure was he that he should forthwith carry hostilities
beyond the Rhine.
Pichegru appeared older than he really was, and his figure aided in
the deception; he was above medium height, and he was solidly and
sturdily built. He possessed no other elegance than that of
strength. His chest was broad, although he stooped slightly. His
vast shoulders, from which rose a short, full, vigorous neck, gave
him something of the appearance of an athlete, like Milo, or a
gladiator, like Spartacus. His face had the square contour peculiar
to the Francs-Comtois of pure descent. His jawbones were enormous,
and his forehead immense and very prominent about the temples. His
nose was well-formed, and very straight, forming a long ridge from
tip to base. Nothing could have been more gentle than his
expression, unless he had reason to make it imperious or
formidable. Had a great artist wished to express the impassibility
of a demigod on a human face, he might have taken Pichegru's for a
model.
His profound contempt for men and events, concerning which he
never expressed his opinion save with disdainful irony, added
greatly to his character. Pichegru loyally served the social order
which he had found established, because it was his duty; but he
did not and he could not like it. His heart softened only when he
thought of the village where he hoped to pass his old age. "To
fulfil one's task and then to rest," he often said, "is the whole
destiny of man!"[2]
[2] We borrow this portrait from Nodier's study of Pichegru.
Charles made a slight movement which betrayed his presence to Pichegru.
The latter possessed the quick sight and keen hearing of the man whose
life often depends upon that hearing or sight. He raised his head
swiftly and fastened his eyes upon the child with an expression of
kindness that emboldened him greatly.
He entered and handed his letter to the general with a bow. "For the
citizen-general Pichegru," he said.
"Did you recognize me?" asked the general.
"Immediately, general."
"But you had never seen me."
"My father has described you to me."
During this conversation Pichegru had opened the letter.
"What!" he said, "so you are the son of my brave and dear friend--"
The boy did not allow him to finish.
"Yes, citizen-general," he said.
"He says that he gives you to me."
"It remains to be seen whether you will accept the gift."
"What do you want me to do with you?"
"Anything you please."
"I cannot in conscience make a soldier of you; you are too young and
weak."
"General, I did not expect to have the pleasure of seeing you so soon.
My father gave me another letter to a friend in Strasbourg, where I was
to have stayed at least a year to study Greek under him."
"It was not Euloge Schneider?" asked Pichegru, with a laugh.
"Yes, it was."
"Well?"
"Well, he was arrested yesterday."
"By whose order?"
"By that of Saint-Just; he has been sent to the revolutionary tribunal
at Paris."
"In that case, you may as well say farewell to him. How did it happen?"
Charles related Mademoiselle de Brumpt's story, to which Pichegru
listened with evident interest.
"In truth," he said, "some creatures dishonor humanity. Saint-Just did
well. And you did not get spattered with the mud in the midst of all
that?"
"Oh!" said Charles, proud of being the hero of an adventure at his age,
"I was in prison when it happened."
"What, in prison?"
"Yes; I was arrested the day before."
"Then they have begun to arrest children?"
"That is just what made Saint-Just so angry."
"But why were you arrested?"
"For warning two deputies from Besançon that it was not safe for them to
remain in Strasbourg."
"Dumont and Ballu?"
"Yes."
"They are on my staff; you will see them."
"I thought they had returned to Besançon?"
"They changed their minds on the way. And so it is to you they owe the
warning that probably saved their lives?"
"It seems I did wrong," said the boy, lowering his eyes.
"Wrong! Who told you that you had done wrong in accomplishing a good
deed and saving the lives of your fellow-creatures?"
"Saint-Just; but he added that he pardoned me, since pity was a childish
virtue. Then he quoted his own example to me; that very morning he had
sent his best friend to be shot."
Pichegru's face darkened.
"That is true," he said; "the occurrence was put upon the order of the
day, and I must acknowledge that, however one may judge of it
individually, it had a good influence upon the discipline of the
soldiers. But God preserve me from having to give such an example, for I
do not hesitate to say that I should not do it. The devil! we are
Frenchmen, and not Spartans. They can put a mask over our faces for a
time, but sooner or later that mask will lift and the face beneath will
be the same; it may have a few more wrinkles, but that is all."
"Well, general, to return to my father's letter--"
"It is settled that you stay with us. I attach you as secretary to my
staff. Can you ride?"
"I must confess, general, that I am not a very good horseman."
"You will learn. You came on foot?"
"From Rohwillers, yes."
"And how did you get from Strasbourg to Rohwillers?"
"I came in a carry-all with Madame Teutch."
"The landlady of the Hôtel de la Lanterne?"
"And sergeant-major Augereau."
"And how the devil did you get acquainted with that brute, Pierre
Augereau?"
"He was Eugene Beauharnais' fencing-master."
"Son of General Beauharnais?"
"Yes."
"Another one who will expiate his victories upon the scaffold," said
Pichegru, with a sigh; "they find that grape-shot does not work fast
enough. But then, my poor child, you must be half starved."
"Oh, no," replied Charles; "I have just seen a sight that has taken away
my appetite."
"What have you seen?"
"I saw a poor noble shot, who comes from our country. He emigrated, and
I think you must know him."
"The Comte de Sainte-Hermine?"
"Yes."
"They guillotined the father eight months ago, and to-day they have shot
the son. There are still two brothers." Pichegru shrugged his shoulders,
and continued, "Why not shoot them all at once? Then they would be rid
of the whole family. Have you ever seen any one guillotined?"
"No."
"Well, to-morrow, if it will amuse you, you can have the pleasure; there
are twenty-two to be disposed of. There will be all kinds, from officers
to grooms. And now let us arrange about your quarters. It will not take
long." He showed the boy a mattress upon the floor. "That is my bed,"
said he. Then, pointing to another, "That one belongs to citizen
Reignac, chief secretary of the staff." Here he rang, and a soldier
appeared. "A mattress," ordered the general.
Five minutes later the soldier returned with a mattress. Pichegru
pointed out the spot where he wished it to be placed.
"And there is yours," he said. Then, opening a closet, he continued,
"This closet you will have for yourself. No one will put anything in it
that does not belong to you, and you must not put anything in any closet
that is not yours. As your bundle is not large, I think it will answer.
If you have anything that you value particularly, carry it about with
you; that is the safest way. Not that you risk having it stolen, but you
risk leaving it behind you when the order comes for a hurried departure,
whether it be to advance or to retreat."
"General," said the boy, ingenuously, "I had nothing precious except my
father's letter to you, and you have that now."
"Then kiss me and unpack your belongings; I must get back to my map."
As he turned toward the table, he caught sight of two men talking in the
corridor opposite his door.
"Ah!" he said. "Come in, citizen Ballu; come in, citizen Dumont! I want
you to meet a guest who has just arrived." And he pointed to Charles.
Then, as they both looked at him without recognizing him, Pichegru
continued: "My dear compatriots, thank this child; he sent you the
warning which has kept your heads on your shoulders until to-day."
"Charles!" they both cried at once, embracing him and pressing him to
their hearts. "Our wives and our children shall know your name to love
and bless it."
While Charles was replying as best he could to this effusion, a young
man entered, and, in excellent Latin, asked Pichegru whether he could
grant him an interview of a quarter of an hour.
Pichegru, much astonished by this greeting, replied in the same language
that he was at his disposal.
Opening the door of a smaller room, he signed to the stranger to enter
it, and followed him: then, thinking that the man had something
confidential to confide to him, he closed the door behind him.