_BIRAGUE'S NARRATIVE_
Fabrizio, well received in this house which seemed to him very pleasant,
sought never to speak of the battle, since memories of that sort
depressed the Colonel; but as he thought without ceasing of the details
of which he had been a witness, he would sometimes return to the topic;
then the Colonel placed a finger on his lips with a smile, and spoke of
something else. On the other hand, Fabrizio was careful never to say
anything that might let it be guessed by what succession of chances he
had been brought into the neighbourhood of Waterloo. The ladies
especially were constantly placing him under the necessity of finding
polite answers which should tell them nothing of what they desired to
know. At every moment, by phrases which betrayed the keenest interest,
they placed him under the necessity of telling them something; but he
got well out of the trap and the ladies knew absolutely nothing, except
that he was called Vasi, and even then they had good reason to believe
that this name was assumed.
Colonel Le Baron, his wife and the ladies of their acquaintance were
therefore devoured by curiosity, this young man's adventures must indeed
be extraordinary.
"All that I can say positively," repeated the Colonel, "is that he is
endowed with the truest courage, the most simple, the most innocent, so
to speak. When I was so stupid as to set him on picket at the head of
the bridge of La Sainte, and he fought there, one against ten, I would
wager that he was drawing a sabre for the first time."
"And his passport which you went to verify at the municipality is really
made out: Vasi, dealer in barometers, travelling with his wares?" . . .
The ladies, that day, plied him with a thousand artful questions about
the barometers, he extricated himself with a laugh and very neatly; they
consulted him as to the state of the barometer in the house, which they
put in his hands, he remembered the tone that, in similar circumstances,
Conte Pietranera would have adopted, and, justified by the fun that was
being made of him, replied in a tone of the most lively gallantry. His
appearance was so modest and his tone was in so strange a contrast to
his ordinary manner that it was by no means ill received, the ladies
went into fits of laughter. That same evening the Colonel said to them:
"Chance has just offered me a way of finding out our young man's
position; you know that resurrected-looking creature who has come to him
from Italy, the man is a lawyer and is called Birague, but besides that
he is dying of fright; he speaks bad French, but I hope that his
gibberish may not offend you, for he is so driven by fear that each of
his sentences says something. This morning, this lawyer who, for some
days, has always followed me with his eye at the _café_, has at last
found an excuse for, as he says, presenting his respects to me; I at
once thought that perhaps you would deign not to be put off by his
speech, which for that matter greatly resembles your young favourite's;
and so I have invited this strange creature to take tea with us this
evening, and, if you give me leave, I shall now send Beloir to fetch him
from the _café_."
Ten minutes later, Trooper Beloir announced at the door of the
drawing-room: "M. Birague, _avocat_."
The conversation lasted for fully two hours, the ladies heaped every
attention on the poor lawyer, who did everything in his power to please
them, but it was in vain that they sought to extract from him anything
that bore upon Fabrizio; they had lost patience with his discretion,
which was not lacking in polite forms of speech, when the Colonel
exclaimed:
"I must say, my dear _avocat_, that you are a very brave man, how could
you dare enter France in the present state of things? They are kind
enough to give me in the army a certain reputation for bravery, but I
must confess to you that in your place, and (I tell you frankly)
speaking a French so different from that spoken by the natives of the
country, I should never have ventured to penetrate into so disturbed a
country. Now I see that you have made a conquest of these ladies, you
have an air of sincerity which pleases me and I should like to give you
my protection. Madame's uncle is Mayor of Amiens; I ought to tell you
that, since you are not recommended by an Ambassador, your fate lies in
his hands. M. le Maire Leborgne has a savage nature, he will never
believe that you have come to Amiens for your health," and so forth.
The ladies were quick in taking the hint given them by the Colonel; they
took the utmost pains to give the Milanese lawyer a strong impression of
the cruel nature of the worthy M. Leborgne, Mayor of Amiens. Birague
turned paler than his shirt, than the white cravat and enormous hat in
which he had attired himself that evening to be presented to ladies; but
he found himself so well treated that finally about eleven o'clock he
ventured to ask the Colonel if he had any horses. The Colonel asked him
whether, at that time of night, he wished to go for a ride, saying that
he had only two horses, which indeed were a pair of screws, but that he
placed them willingly at his service.
"I should not think of going out by the gate at this hour, and running
the risk of seeing myself questioned by the police, but I find so
estimable a humanity in your heart and in the hearts of these good
ladies that I venture to make a request of you; allow me to spend the
night in your horses' hayloft: as it is an idea that has just occurred
to me, the terrible Mayor Leborgne would never hear of it and I should
spend one night at least in peace and quiet. I am lodging with His
Excellency, M. Vasi, but he has committed the imprudence, as a matter of
fact long before my arrival, of refusing to see any more of the Duprez
family, who are greatly annoyed and who, I have no doubt, would be glad
to have their revenge. I have not attempted to hide my feelings in the
matter from M. Vasi, I have taken the liberty of saying that this step
was rash on his part; but your experience, Monsieur le Colonel, must
have taught you what the rashness of youth is. M. Vasi's answer was that
he would have been stifled by boredom if he had continued to spend his
evenings with the Duprez family.
"In the present state of things, the Duprez, who, no doubt, desire to be
avenged, will not dare to attack a man like M. Vasi, but they will take
it out of a poor devil like myself," and so on.
The Colonel ended by giving M. Birague a letter of recommendation
addressed to the Mayor of Amiens, in which he declared that he would
answer with his life for M. Birague, a respectable lawyer of Milan, whom
he had known when he was stationed in that city.
"Carry this letter on you while you are on your way to the Grand
Monarque, and burn all the written or printed documents which you may
have in your room; spend a quiet night, but you see that I am answering
for you, come to-morrow and tell me your whole history so that, if the
Mayor questions me closely, I can make a show of having known you for a
long time; say nothing to M. Vasi of what I am doing for you."
One may imagine whether this evening was amusing for the ladies, but
they were afraid of having alarmed M. Birague unduly.
"Really, the man's appearance was incredible," said Mme. Le Baron.
"But," put in one of her friends, "it becomes more and more likely that
our young _protégé_ Vasi is a man of consequence in his own country."
The Colonel had to employ stratagems for a week; M. Birague spoke as
freely as could be desired of his own affairs, but was impenetrable on
everything that related to Fabrizio. Mme. Le Baron and her friends
invited him to luncheon one day when the Colonel was absent and played
so cruelly upon M. Birague's alarm that he ended by saying to them with
tears:
"Oh, well, I see that you are good ladies, I see that you would not wish
to ruin me, you have immense influence with the Mayor of Amiens, give me
your word that you will obtain for me a passport for England signed by
the Mayor and I shall at least be able to fly to London in case of
danger; my father ordered me to travel by London so as to be able to
return to Milan without fear of Barone Binder, the Chief of Police
there; he is a man of the same sort as your Mayor, it is not easy to get
out of his prisons, once one has got into them."
"Very well," exclaimed Mme. Le Baron, "if you are frank with us, I give
you my word that to-morrow you shall have your passport for London; we
wish no harm to M. Vasi, far from it, this lady," she pointed to the
youngest of her friends, "has a tender regard for him."
Birague was slightly astonished by the shout of laughter which greeted
this admission; he had some difficulty in replying with any clarity to
the hundred questions by which he was at once overwhelmed.
The ladies knew already that Vasi was an assumed name, that Fabrizio del
Dongo was the second son of the Marchese del Dongo, Second Grand
Majordomo Major of the Lombardo-Venetian Kingdom, one of the greatest
noblemen in that country, to whom his, Birague's father, was steward. On
the news of Napoleon's landing from the Gulf of Granti, in June,
regardless of the alarm of his aunt and mother, Fabrizio had fled from
his father's magnificent castle, situated at Grianta, on the Lake of
Como, six leagues from the Swiss frontier.
Birague was at this stage in his narrative when the Colonel returned; he
was told all that Birague had already said; as his regiment had been
stationed for some time at Lodi, a few leagues from Milan, he knew all
the principal personages of the court of Prince Eugène.
"What," he cried, "that Contessa Gina Pietranera, of whom you are
speaking to these ladies as the aunt of Fabrizio, is she that famous
Contessa Pietranera, the most beautiful woman in Milan in the days of
the Viceroy, whose word was law at his court?"
"The very same, Colonel."
"And what age might she be now?"
"Twenty-seven or twenty-eight; she is more beautiful than ever, but she
is completely ruined, her husband was murdered in what they called a
duel, and the Contessa was furious at not being able to avenge his
death: the General was out shooting in the mountains of Bergamo with
some officers of the Ultra Party; he, as you know, although belonging to
a family of the old nobility, had always served with the troops of the
Cisalpine Republic; there was a luncheon in the course of this shooting
party, one of the Ultra officers took the liberty of belittling the
courage of the Cisalpine troops; the General struck him a blow, the
luncheon was interrupted; as they had no weapons but guns, they fought
with those, the poor General fell stone dead, with two bullets in his
body; but the details of this duel made such a stir in Milan that all
the officers who had been present were obliged to go and travel in
Switzerland. The local surgeon who examined the General's body certified
that the bullet which caused his death had entered from the back. This
statement by the surgeon came to the Signor Barone Binder, Director
General of the Police, Contessa Pietranera knew of it at once, for she
can do anything she likes at Milan; all the important people of the
place are her friends and are at her service. Twenty-four hours later,
there arrived a second statement by the country surgeon from the Bergamo
district; it contradicted the first and stated that the bullet which
caused the death had entered by the stomach and that the second bullet
which had passed through the thigh had also entered from in front; but
they said that this surgeon had received a large sum of money. On the
very night after the arrival of this second statement, the officers who
had been present at the duel left for Switzerland; the funeral was held
next day; they were afraid of being mobbed by the crowd, and the
strangest thing of all was that the surgeon also left for Switzerland,
where he still is. He has never dared to shew his face again his own
neighbourhood; the Bergamasks have sworn to exterminate him; and they
don't take things lightly in that part of the world. It was after that
that there was the famous quarrel between Signora Pietranera and her
friend Limercati."
"What, is that the famous Limercati who, in 1811, had such fine English
horses, seven of them?"
"No doubt, Lodovico Limercati; he had forty horses in his stables, he
has an income of over two hundred thousand lire; my cousin Ercole is his
factor; but there's a bad relation for you, he has never thought of
employing me as lawyer to the rich Limercati estate."
"It is terrible, frightful," cried Mme. Le Baron, "but you spoke of a
letter which, I must tell you, excites my curiosity greatly."