A CRIMSON MANTLE
I shall never forget the August evening when first we saw that island
of enchanted beauty in Lake Uzmaiz. The lake lay blue and still, with
an opaline sky, shot with gold, reflected in it. The green island,
fringed with trees, and with a small, half-ruined castle on a gentle
knoll in the middle, was mirrored in that fair expanse. There were two
towers of the castle left standing, and they gave upon a broad terrace
of which the escarpment was gone to soft decay, moss-grown and
beautiful. There was a little point of land, rock-fringed, against
which the water lapped like a mother crooning to her babe, and
opposite to it, a point on the mainland, grassy and bordered with
alder bushes. It was still and quiet and placid, like a dream of
peace. Over all, the declining sun shone golden, bathing the wooded
peaks afar with soft splendor. The beauty and the peacefulness of it
went to the heart of one. Oh, what loveliness there was in that lake,
that island, that darkly blue horizon, that sunset sky, glowing with
amethyst and pale green!
But there were beauties other than those of nature on the island. The
first I reckon to be our three hundred stout fellows, who owned as
much ragged valor as any three hundred soldiers in the world. They
were delighted to see Count Saxe, and each man had a kind of leathern
grin upon his countenance that was as satisfactory to us as beauty's
most bewitching smile. They had not lost a day in intrenching, and the
natural strength of the island was such that Count Saxe declared, if
he could have but a few weeks, even with his small force, he could
intrench himself so that it would take ten thousand to dislodge him.
We had great stores of arms and ammunition, together with some heavy
guns--these last conveyed to the island by a miracle of ingenuity and
determination--and we had victuals in abundance. It began to look as
if we could give Bibikoff and his Russians, and even Lacy, some
trouble yet to get us out of Courland.
Count Saxe, on landing, went straight to refresh himself in the
old castle, where two or three rooms in the towers, at each end of
the terrace, were still habitable. The terrace was overgrown with
ivy and periwinkle, and some ancient rose trees were still living
and blooming. On this terrace, which seemed steeped in age and
tranquillity, Count Saxe determined to mount two of his four great
guns which had been transported to Uzmaiz.
Our rest was short before we set to work, with pick and shovel, every
man of us. Count Saxe did not disdain to show us how to work. We
labored day and night, with but short intervals for sleep. Sleeping or
working, however, my mind was always full of Francezka. With
discretion on Gaston Cheverny's part there was no reason to fear for
her; but although his wit and courage were above cavil, his discretion
was an unknown quantity. For him, much as I loved him, I felt no
immediate concern. He was a soldier, whose trade was danger, and he
had known a plenty of it since leaving France; but for Francezka, that
delicately nurtured creature, who had never slept but in a soft bed,
who was accustomed to waiting maids and valets, who was so young and
so charming, so adventurous--what of her?
We scarcely reckoned upon hearing from Gaston Cheverny very promptly,
still there was room for anxiety when a whole week passed and we heard
nothing. Gaston was amply supplied with money, and Count Saxe had
charged him to lose no time in communicating with us, nor was he
likely to delay--so that the failure to hear from him was slightly
disquieting.
One week went by, and then another, and we heard nothing of Francezka
and Gaston. We had other things to give us thought, for we got news
that Bibikoff was looking for us, with four thousand Russians, and, as
soon as we were found, General Lacy was to step in and finish us--if
he could. This only put more strength into our thews and sinews, for
if the Russians caught us before our defenses were completed, it would
go hard with us. So we had enough to think about. But it did not
diminish our courage or our industry. If only Mademoiselle Capello
were safe! That was the thought in my heart.
On the fifteenth day after our arrival, about noon, as I stood on the
terrace making some changes, under Count Saxe's eye, for one of the
guns to be planted there, I happened to glance toward the point of the
mainland, and saw a strange figure standing there waving a crimson
mantle by way of a signal; and it was Francezka's mantle.
Count Saxe saw it as soon as I, and recognized it.
"Go you at once, with a boat," he said, and I lost no time.
When I stepped out of the boat on the mainland, the fellow who had
been signaling came up to me. He was barelegged, and wore the tattered
uniform of a Russian foot soldier, with a sheepskin mantle, but he
spoke remarkably good French for a foot soldier.
"I have a letter," he said in French, "for Count Saxe."
"You mean," I replied, "for his Highness, the Duke of Courland. Give
it me then, and, also, that mantle." And I shoved a gold piece into
his hand. He grinned and gave up both the mantle and the letter.
With them, I returned to the island. Count Saxe met me at the landing
place, and I handed him the letter, which was from Gaston Cheverny. It
read:
Your Highness:
Here I am with my young brother Francois, in the hands of the
Russians. Francois is young and delicate, and must be succored. A
ransom of ten thousand crowns is asked for us both--nor will the
Russians agree to part with one of us without the other. Francois
must be succored, I say. My estate in France is not great, but it
is ten thousand crowns at least, and I think the ransom not
excessive. Francois, I repeat, must be succored. Your Highness's
ever faithful
Gaston Cheverny.
Count Saxe looked at me reflectively, after I had read the letter.
"Of course, she must be succored. Ten thousand crowns is a large sum
for some purposes; not large to pay as ransom for a lady."
"Not for some ladies," I answered. "Not for Mademoiselle Capello."
"Babache, you are a Tatar and have the sentiments of a Tatar," said my
master; and then he got with me into the boat and we pulled across the
bright blue water to where the rascal awaited us, sunning himself with
great enjoyment in the August noon.
Count Saxe saw through the fellow's disguise at once. He liked not to
deal with rascals, but knew how to perfectly, and said at once in
French:
"What will be done to Monsieur Cheverny and the lad if we decline to
pay the ransom?"
For answer the fellow grinned, and drew his hand, as an executioner
draws his sword, across his neck.
Count Saxe said not a word in reply, but went through the pantomime of
a platoon of soldiers firing at the order "One! Two! Three!" upon the
condemned.
The Russian understood very well, and laughed.
"But we have not yet come to that," said Count Saxe. "Here is a man,
Captain Babache, who will go with you and see the young man and the
lad. On his report depends whether we shall pay anything or not."
"He must take the ten thousand crowns with him," said the fellow. "It
would be a pity to shoot the lad, Francois. He is such a brave lad. We
marched him far and fast; he was footsore and weary, but he marched,
and not a moan escaped him."
At that my heart was like to burst. I could see Francezka--that pale,
beautiful face--those eyes, so seductive, yet so undaunted--that lofty
spirit which made her soul the captain of her body. And surely, Gaston
must have committed some great folly to have brought them to that
pass. All this went galloping through my mind while Count Saxe was
saying:
"My friend, I see you are a determined rascal, and that you know the
boy at least must be ransomed. So, Babache here will return with you,
and ten trusty men shall carry the ten thousand crowns. But I warn you
that you are dealing with Maurice of Saxe, and if harm comes to a hair
of the heads of those prisoners, or of Babache and his men, I will
give over the pursuit of the crown of Courland, until every soul of
you rests in Abraham's bosom. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, and know you and believe you," replied the fellow. "We will do
them no harm. We are gentlemen, if you please; I, myself, have danced
with the lady, Anna Iwanowna, whom you, Count Saxe, refused to marry,
and though you have not asked my views upon political affairs in this
my native land of Courland, I will say to you that you will rest in
Abraham's bosom before you become Duke of Courland."
"Ah," replied Count Saxe, coolly, "may I take you as a fair
representative of Courland?"
"Hardly," replied he of the bare legs; "but your objects, most noble
Count, and mine and those of my comrades, are not unlike. Your
Highness comes to Courland, and tells us to make you Duke of Courland,
or you will give us our fill of civil war. It is stand and deliver in
either case."
To my amazement Count Saxe actually laughed!
For my part, the picture conjured up of Francezka tramping wearily
through the fields and forests, in the company of cutthroats, her
tender feet aching and wounded, put all thoughts of laughter out of my
head. I was impatient only to be gone, and Count Saxe saw it.
Ten thousand crowns is a great sum of money, I think. It made a hole
in Count Saxe's military chest to pay it; but when was he ever
backward in handing out money when he had it, or could get it from
some one else? And the services of eleven men, when time was so
precious to us, could ill be spared; but Count Saxe took no note of
these things.
He talked a little longer with the Russian, who had a German name,
Schnelling. This Schnelling had the impudence to claim to be a part of
Bibikoff's force, and when Count Saxe asked him what he was doing
holding prisoners for ransom, the rascal replied that the money was to
be applied for a fund of defense against Count Saxe!
At this my master could not help laughing, and expressed himself as
being entirely at ease about a single crown of his money going to the
fund for driving him out of Courland.
On being asked, Schnelling told us his encampment, as he called it,
was three days' march from Uzmaiz.
Now Count Saxe was a good judge of whether a man was telling the truth
or not. He had enjoyed remarkable opportunities for more than a year
of studying the Courland vintage of lies--for every nation has its own
style of lies. A Frenchman lies not like a German. A Courlander
lies--however, it has been said that the devil and ninety-nine
Courlanders make a hundred liars.
Count Saxe replied to this last lie of Schnelling's by saying:
"You are a marvelous soldier, to travel three days without escort of
commissariat, for the village hen-roosts can not always be depended
on. I guarantee that your prisoners are not half a day's march from
here."
"Monsieur," said our bare-legged captain, in a tone and manner not
unworthy of Jacques Haret, "I take no offense at your calling me a
liar, by implication; in war, lies are stratagems. But your allusion
to village hen-roosts is exceedingly painful to a gentleman like
myself, who has danced at a court ball with the Duchess Anna Iwanowna.
However, passing that over, I will admit that we are just half a day's
march from here and looking for General Bibikoff every hour."
"Pray make General Bibikoff my compliments when you meet him," replied
Count Saxe, gravely. "And since your prisoners can be reached
to-night, not a moment must be lost in setting out."
It was high noon when we had perceived Schnelling, and by two o'clock
all the arrangements were made, the money was put in two leather bags,
I had picked out ten men and had started. I had not much fear of
treachery on the part of our Russian-Courland friends. They knew
Maurice of Saxe too well to try any tricks on him. We struck out
through a green, well-wooded country, avoiding the highroads and ever
going deeper into the forests of larch and fir that led toward the
west from Uzmaiz. If my heart had not been full of Francezka, I should
have enjoyed the conversation of that rascal, Schnelling. He frankly
gave up his attempt to pass for a private soldier and appeared like a
genuine fine gentleman, in spite of his bare legs and sheepskin cloak.
He had known many adventures in the world, and told of them, laughing
uproariously at things that I would have killed any man for, had he
told them on Captain Babache.
I did not wish to speak of Mademoiselle Capello to him, but in spite
of me the words came out. I asked him, trying meanwhile to look
unconcerned, about the boy Francois. He glanced at me sidewise, and I
believe he read my heart, and delighted in torturing me.
"A lad of fine spirit, but delicate in many ways. The elder--Monsieur
Gaston Cheverny--could not take better care of him if he were a sister
instead of a brother. Monsieur Gaston never leaves him by day, and by
night watches him. It would have been as easy, as far as Monsieur
Gaston was concerned, to have got twenty thousand crowns as ten
thousand."
We trudged for five hours, and the sun sank, and there was no moon. I
walked on like a blind man. Schnelling seemed to know his way
perfectly, but occasionally he stopped and struck his flint; when by
that small, pale gleam, the abysses of darkness seemed vaster and more
menacing. At last, toward ten o'clock at night, there came, on the
faintly stirring dense air, the odor of smoke, of burning boughs. Then
a twinkle of light was visible, and the next minute we came upon an
open space, in which a huge fire of resinous wood blazed and roared.
There were pickets about. This precious gang of rascals, who
impudently claimed to be a part of General Bibikoff's force, had all
served some time or other as soldiers, all wore uniforms, and knew
perfectly well how to take care of themselves--nay, how to make
themselves at ease, as far as their circumstances permitted. It is,
after all, a wonderful thing that man does not seem able to rid
himself wholly of either sense or virtue. These rogues were brave, and
as Count Saxe anticipated, they kept their word scrupulously about
their prisoners.
As soon as my eyes became accustomed to the glare of light, I looked
about me for Francezka, but saw no sign of either her or Gaston
Cheverny. Schnelling walked up to a man in a colonel's uniform, and
saluting, said:
"Colonel Pintsch, this gentleman, Captain Babache, brings you ten
thousand crowns, with the compliments of Count Saxe, and is prepared
to receive the prisoners."
Colonel Pintsch--whether he was a colonel or not, I never knew--bowed
politely, and said:
"I am ready to deliver the prisoners on the spot and to receipt for
the money."
I thought it best to hand the money over at once, knowing if they
wished to play us false it was as easy to do it at one time as
another; for it was clear that we could not undertake to return until
daylight came to assist us. We were obliged to trust them partly, and
I thought it best to trust them wholly. Therefore I had my men bring
forward the two leathern bags. Colonel Pintsch wrote a receipt,
meanwhile gravely assuring me that the money would go to the defense
fund for Courland, and he would certainly inform General Bibikoff of
the whole affair. I listened, longing to throttle him, and he
concluded by saying to Schnelling:
"Show Captain Babache our guests."
Guests they were now, no longer prisoners. What rags of politeness
will sometimes cling to the worst of villains!
Schnelling led me a little way toward the edge of the open space,
where the forest closed in its dark ramparts. There was a kind of
screen formed by fir boughs stuck into the ground, and behind these a
smaller fire was blazing. Under a low hanging larch tree was a bed of
boughs, and on it lay Francezka, sleeping. The huge black cloak given
Gaston Cheverny by Count Saxe was thrown over her, covering her
completely, except her delicate, clear-cut face.
The young and the innocent always look like infants when they are
asleep. Although Francezka was then nearly sixteen, she looked like
the merest child, with her long lashes lying on her cheek, and the
little rings of damp hair on her forehead. I gazed upon her one moment
in rapture, and then turned away in reverence. Gaston Cheverny, who
had been sitting by the fire, had sprung up and was giving me an
embrace which all but cracked my ribs.
"Babache," he said, in a low voice, so that Francezka would not be
awakened, "I can say, like the patriarch of old, 'Lord, now lettest
Thou Thy servant depart in peace.'"
I shook myself free from his embrace.
"Come," said I, "tell me what particular folly brought you to this
pass?"
He scowled at me for a moment and then said hotly--and I suppose I had
spoken angrily--
"My report shall be made to Count Saxe. I--" And then we both smiled
involuntarily.
"Babache," continued Gaston in the meekest tone, "I swear to you, I
can not now recall one thing I have done since we parted in the
courtyard of the schloss at Mitau, that seems to me on reflection
rash, or ill-considered. Listen and I believe you will agree that I am
in no way to blame for what has come to pass."
Schnelling interrupted us to say that food was being prepared for us;
but, had it been before me, I could not have eaten nor drunk until
Gaston had told me his story. He spoke softly, glancing often toward
the spot under the larch tree where Francezka's face, like a lily
flower, lay.