A LOST CAUSE
There is something in having a good horse under one which mightily
uplifts a weary heart. It is like meat and drink, a consolation that
rises in the blood and makes its way to the seat of the soul, which
goes soaring. So it was with us on that September morning when we left
Uzmaiz. We had been cooped up for over a month on the island, and
every moment of our waking time had been full of labor and anxiety.
Now, the worst had befallen us; and there is something of relief in
the thought that there are no more bolts to fall. I believe that Count
Saxe carried no delusions away from Uzmaiz. He did not at once give up
his cause as lost, but I think he saw the game was not worth the
winning. But for courage and smiling patience, one might have thought
he had won the day, instead of being driven out, like a vagrant dog,
from a strange fireside.
We mounted, and set forth in the dewy morning--the Russians civil
enough, but General Lacy keeping out of sight for very shame at
Bibikoff's conduct, with which he was perfectly well acquainted. They
gave us good horses. Count Saxe rode ahead, with Mademoiselle Capello,
Gaston Cheverny and me following, and Beauvais behind. Gaston
Cheverny had a portmanteau strapped to his saddle, and in it was a
treasure most precious to Francezka--her woman's clothes. I had one
equally valued by Count Saxe--his rescript of election by the Diet to
the crown of Courland. I hid it between my skin and my shirt. For
Francezka's clothes and Count Saxe's rescript we were ready to be
hanged, drowned, or shot.
Count Saxe meant to make leisurely for our rendezvous at Koenigsberg.
There was no need for rapid travel, as our three hundred and odd men
could not reach there for some days after us, as they had to make the
entire distance on foot. For ourselves, the presence of Mademoiselle
Capello necessarily delayed us, for although hardy for a woman, she
could by no means make a day's ride like old campaigners such as we
were.
Almost from the first hour of our journey Francezka began to importune
Count Saxe to get her a woman's saddle and let her resume her own
dress. To this Count Saxe soon agreed, Francezka pleading with wet
eyes and quivering lips, as if for her life. In truth, her disguise
was very incomplete; her long hair, her every look and motion betrayed
her sex.
When Francezka had carried this point her spirits rose. She dismounted
joyfully at the first roadside inn, and disappearing as a very pretty
boy, came out again, as Mademoiselle Capello, her rich locks curled
and plaited, and her beloved laced hat, which had cost her so many
tears, anxieties and palpitations, set upon her graceful head. Our
complications with regard to her would end as soon as we reached
Koenigsberg. Once there it would be easy to make suitable arrangements
for her, and until then she was the charge of us all, any one of whom
would have laid down his life for her.
Thanks to the smallness of our party, no one suspected who we were.
Count Saxe, from motives of prudence, gave himself out as Count
Moritz. The weather was sunny, although the September air was sharp,
but that only made our blood leap the faster. The roads were good, and
the country far from tedious. Our road led us for a time toward the
Baltic Sea, whose loud booming we could sometimes hear in the midnight
silences.
We were seven days upon the road to Koenigsberg. They were not the
unhappiest days of my life, for I was enabled to do something for
Francezka. She turned to me for help in many of those small needs of a
woman. It was agreed, when she resumed her own dress, that the best
thing to do was to say she was a young lady of rank, accidentally
separated from her family and going to meet them at Koenigsberg. This,
and the extreme respect with which we treated her, secured her from
the unpleasant comment of the vulgar. Beauvais always served her in
her room at the inns where we stopped, and I think, on the whole, she
made the journey with ease of mind and comfort of body.
On the seventh evening, toward sunset, we rode into Koenigsberg, across
the new bridge, and up to the best inn of the town, The Rose. And as
we rode through the narrow streets, with their tall gabled houses, and
into the courtyard of the inn, we saw there the welcomest sight our
eyes could have rested on--the traveling chaise of Madame Riano, with
old Peter on the box, and Madame Riano herself descending from the
chaise. And she was assisted by Regnard Cheverny!
Francezka uttered a cry of joy when she recognized Madame Riano,
sprang from her horse before any one of us could give her a hand, and
ran to her; then laying her head upon Madame Riano's arm, burst into
tears, but not tears of pain. Madame Riano held her close and kissed
her. I think the two were at heart passionately attached to each
other. I saw tears also in Madame Riano's handsome, intrepid, tawny
eyes, and her usually loud and determined voice broke when she thanked
Count Saxe for his goodness to Mademoiselle Capello.
I was staggered at the sight of Regnard Cheverny, having thought him
many hundreds of leagues away; but there he was, in the life, and as
handsome and debonair a young gentleman as one would wish to see. He
and Gaston embraced with unusual affection even for brothers. Whatever
their rivalry might be, there could be no question that each bore love
for the other.
Francezka having recovered a little from her agitation, Regnard came
forward to greet her, and I saw that in his eye which showed me that
he had traveled from Paris to Koenigsberg for the sight of her. Gaston
showed his admiration more openly.
We went into the inn, were shown the best room, and then exchanged
the story of our adventures. As Gaston surmised, the Russians had
not meant to be very severe on Madame Riano, and after detaining
her a month at a small village not far from Mitau had let her go.
Holding Madame Riano was as I have said of Count Saxe--it was the
holding of a wolf by the ears. Meanwhile, Regnard Cheverny had
arrived at Mitau, and hearing of the lady's mishaps, went to her, in
the little town where she was under nominal surveillance. Madame
Riano, with her usual acuteness had pitched upon Koenigsberg as the
likeliest place to await news from Francezka, for she had found out
that Count Saxe was at Uzmaiz, and concluded that Francezka was there
or in that neighborhood. And so, all had fallen out fortunately, and
here we were, with whole skins, sitting at ease at the inn, and like
all people who have passed through agitating times, disposed to
rejoice in our present peace.
Almost the first thing Francezka, womanlike, asked of Madame Riano
was, whether she had saved their boxes. This, madame had been
fortunate enough to do. Francezka, with sparkling eyes, called her
maid, Elizabeth--an elderly woman, sister of Peter, and who seemed as
happy to see her as was Madame Riano--and the two disappeared
together. When Francezka came out again she was dressed in a robe of
pale blue stuff, with a gauze kerchief folded across her beautiful
white neck, and looked like a rose in bloom. No wonder neither of the
Chevernys could keep his eyes from her!
Supper was served in Madame Riano's room, and we were a merry party,
for runaways. Madame Riano was more considerate of Count Saxe than I
had ever known her to be before, and indulged in no flouts or gibes.
We sang at table, according to the French custom, and Gaston Cheverny,
who was easily master of us all in that craft, sang a song of the
Cardinal de Rohan and sang it with meaning in his voice--a meaning
which brought deep blushes to Francezka's cheek, a scowl to Regnard
Cheverny's face, and smiles to the rest of us.
There was an ancient and rickety harpsichord in the room, on which
mademoiselle played with much skill, and with a dainty hand. Then
Madame Riano made us all sing Jacobite songs, joining in herself, with
a voice like the rasping of a saw, and forcing us all to rise and pay
royal honors to the name of Prince Charles Edward Stuart; and the
evening went cheerfully, with music and pleasant conversation.
When mademoiselle had retired, Madame Riano called a council of war.
The first thing to settle was the matter of the ransom of ten thousand
crowns. Gaston Cheverny, like a youngster of spirit, talked as if ten
thousand crowns was a mere bagatelle, although we all knew it was
enough to swallow up his whole estate. He would pay it all--yes, he
would--and would run any man through who dared hint anything else.
Madame Riano, however, and Count Saxe, getting him between them,
fairly intimidated him, and he was finally brought to consent, sulky
and fuming, to paying only one-half of the money, the other half being
due, by common honesty, from Mademoiselle Capello's great estates.
Count Saxe meant, of course, to make the payment of Gaston's part as
easy as possible to him. This point settled, Madame Riano proposed
that we should travel together through Germany, and on reaching
Brabant we should stop and rest ourselves for a month before going to
Paris.
"For," she said to Count Saxe, "let them in Paris get done with their
lampooning and verses and jokes upon you, Maurice of Saxe. I wager
that long-legged, lightning-eyed Voltaire will have something to say
about you, before you get to Paris. But give those Paris people one
month, and they will forget all about you."
To which, Count Saxe, grinding his teeth, was obliged to agree. It was
certainly true that Arouet, the notary's son, would crack some of his
infernal jokes upon our unhappy expedition. Then Madame Riano urged us
to stop at Capello, which was directly upon our road from Brussels to
Paris. Mademoiselle Capello, from the time she had first fallen into
our hands, had never ceased to picture the pleasure she would one day
have of our company at her chateau of Capello, and so Count Saxe
thankfully accepted Madame Riano's invitation. Gaston Cheverny's
house, a simple manor house, was in sight of the chateau of Capello,
as Gaston had told us many times, while Castle Haret, which Regnard
had so cleverly acquired, was some distance away.
We spent four days in Koenigsberg before the remainder of our poor
fellows caught up with us. Count Saxe, on their arrival, harangued
them, and promised to take them all into his service at Paris, where
he proposed to buy a regiment. He gave them their wages and something
handsome besides, provided the officers with money and horses, and
they took their several ways, to meet at Paris the first of the year
1728.
Koenigsberg is a quaint place--I have seen few quainter in my time. It
was explored thoroughly by Madame Riano, Mademoiselle Capello, and the
two Chevernys. Regnard's errand became plainer every day, but plainly,
also, it was not well received by Francezka. She had the art, in a
remarkable degree, of combining perfect civility with the most
discouraging coldness. I have often noticed that women need but little
training or experience in the way of treating men. They seem to divine
it all. This young girl had already mastered the whole art of managing
the other sex, and she had scarcely passed her sixteenth birthday. She
seemed to graduate her kindness by a novel rule. She was most sweet to
me in words and looks, calling me her good Babache. To Gaston
Cheverny, a younger brother, and by no means so great in estate and
consideration as Regnard Cheverny, she was next in kindness. While to
Regnard, who declared his passion for her in every look, she was
smilingly distant, cool and radiant, like a full moon on a December
night.
On the fifth day after our arrival in Koenigsberg we set out on our
long journey toward Brabant. Madame Riano and Mademoiselle Capello,
with their two waiting maids, were in the traveling chaise, with old
Peter on the box. Sometimes we could get a good saddle horse for
Mademoiselle Capello and then she often did the whole day's travel on
horseback. Count Saxe, the Chevernys and I were the escort, with
Beauvais and Regnard Cheverny's servant behind.
The season was remarkably fine, and we made the journey in extreme
comfort. How wise it is, when one has had an irreparable loss, to
prescribe travel as a means of resting the tired heart! The ever
present necessities of the hour, the quick and constant changes,
the dangers--for there are many dangers on the highways of the
kingdoms--the good or bad inn which awaits one--all these small
things fill up a great horizon. All the politics of Europe sank into
nothing when it became a question of supper and beds at the end of a
hard day's journey.
Madame Riano proved herself, as always, to have a basis of good sense,
and much liberality. She never haggled over anything, albeit she was a
Scot; was good-humored generally, or if ill-humored was diverting to
everybody except the victim of her wrath. I noticed she was much less
dictatorial to Mademoiselle Capello than one would expect; and I
shrewdly suspected that Madame Riano knew Francezka was of a nature
not to be driven, and chose rather to abate some of her arrogance
before this young girl. One thing was plain: Mademoiselle Capello
assumed all the honors of the chatelaine of her Brabant chateau, and
gave us to understand that she was mistress there, _de facto_ if not
_de jure_; for she would not become actual mistress of her estates or
herself until her eighteenth birthday. Madame Riano, talking once with
Count Saxe and me in the garden of an inn, on a pleasant morning,
before it was time to start, told us some particulars of these
matters.
"My niece and all her estates were left in my charge by my brother--God
rest his soul. And I think neither has been mismanaged. But the
Kirkpatricks are all given sense to manage themselves at a very early
age--God having decreed it so. And especially is this true with
Francezka. Seeing her bent on managing herself, at least, I have
withdrawn some of my authority, for it is better that she should know
what responsibility means, before herself and her fortune lie in her own
hand. I am much mistaken if the chit does not spend a good part of her
time speculating on what she will do when she is her own mistress
absolutely. My brother, in his will, recommended his daughter not to
marry for at least two years after reaching her majority, and she
professes to regard this as a solemn command. Oh, she means to have a
fling or two, before she puts her head in the marriage noose! So, I am
in control of my niece, very much as you, Count Saxe, are Duke of
Courland: we both have the papers--that is, if Babache still has your
rescript under his shirt, but neither one of us could precisely enforce
our authority."
This was the only gibe Madame Riano threw at us during the whole
journey.
Often, when Mademoiselle Capello rode, she called me to her side.
Gaston Cheverny was satisfied at this, reckoning me, and truly, as his
friend. Regnard, on the contrary, was ill-pleased. Yet he showed
excellent temper and judgment, always. It was to be a long chase, that
of Mademoiselle Capello; and Regnard's qualities, persistence,
cheerfulness under defeat, and airy, indomitable spirit, often tell in
the end.