THE ESCAPE
I regained consciousness upon a real bed. Some people were near me. My
jailer, with a softened expression, was handing me a cup of soup. I
closed my eyes and realized that some one raised the sheet covering me
and searched over my almost nude body for a birthmark. A voice said,
"Thank God, it is he!" and human lips pressed my cadaverous hands.
The tower's warden said affably as he took his leave:
"Assure the Empress that he shall be well cared for."
A man near me murmured "Courage, courage, your Majesty."
My eyes opened and I clasped Montmorin in my arms.
"Your Majesty,"--he began, and I interrupted:
"Do not address me so, Eugene. Do not apply titles to a wretched
outcast. I wish to strip myself of the personality which has caused my
martyrdom."
"Well, then, Charles," said Montmorin "I have sought you for four
years."
"Four years!" I exclaimed. "Did I remain four years in the Black Hole?"
"I had no clue," said my friend. "I believed you dead, and through
indifference concerning my own life, I enlisted in Napoleon's army. The
execution of the Due d'Enghien and the conspiracy of Cadouval (of which
I shall presently tell you) filled me with such indignation that I
resolved to present my resignation. Just then the Empress sent for me.
In a secret interview she informed me that you were in Vincennes dungeon
and commissioned me to rescue you. Her hand pushed aside the obstacles
between us."
"Blessed be the creole!" I cried.
"Not so fast, Charles. She seeks only her security. Her lord, who is
also the lord of Europe, seems to be considering the advisability of
relegating her to some corner of his Babylonic Empire, because of her
barrenness. She looks upon you as a fine card to play at the opportune
moment. Napoleon has forgotten your existence. He is too busy with his
conquests to even think of you. Here in prison, your name is No. 86.
Josephine pretends that you are the nephew of a Martinique woman with
whom she has a friendship. She does not desire your liberty because it
is preferable that you should be where she may at any time lay a hand
upon you. But I shall free you, though that must be postponed, as you
are now so weak."
I was bathed and cleanly clad. Nourishing and abundant food was given me
daily and I was gently tended by Armande, the jailer's excellent
daughter. Montmorin cut off my long hair and tangled beard, and, on
viewing myself in the mirror, I realized that the cruel operation, whose
object had been to disfigure me, had been frustrated by the darkness of
the dungeon. I should, otherwise, have been marked as with the pits of
that dreadful malady, the smallpox, and been changed past all
recognition.
I was born again. The pure blood of Austria and Lorraine had
successfully combated what appeared invincible obstacles. Montmorin, who
through motives of caution, visited me only twice during my
convalescence, was one day overjoyed on seeing my hard rounded flesh and
observed that it was time to discuss our flight. I was on the second
floor of one of the four towers which flank the historic castle. The
windows facing toward the fort were not very high from the ground. If
the grating were filed, 'twould be a simple matter to swing down to the
bridge spanning the ditch over which the soldiers walked in leaving the
fortress. This route of exit was chosen by the soldiers in order to
avoid the trouble of raising the portcullis, and it existed through the
culpable negligence of the chief; otherwise, I should never have been
able to have accomplished my escape. The only necessary precaution was
that of selecting an auspicious hour of the night in which to swing down
to the ditch, cross the narrow plank and join Montmorin in the woods
beyond, awaiting me with a pair of good horses. I had an English file
for the severing of my iron bars, also a rope and a dagger. All these I
kept upon my body during the day and in my bed at night. I anxiously
counted the hours that must pass before my escape and constantly
developed my muscles by gymnastic exercises. Each night I cut through
one bar of the grating. I feared that Armande, who was as kind to me as
her father was indifferent, might suspect my intention. I therefore
adopted toward her the most affectionate demeanor. I praised her beauty
and then I realized that she was indeed beautiful. The wine of youth
rose in me like a splendid springtide and when Armande trembled in my
arms I regretted that I must so soon leave her.
Thérèse, I know that your austere virtue makes no capitulation to what
you would call the sentimental delinquencies of the heart. But to me a
woman's breast is more necessary than bread or water. That simple girl
loved me in the abandonment of her feminine pity, which is, my chaste
sister, the holiest passion of humanity.
One day she responded to my caresses with the words:
"I know you are preparing to escape. I will help you, and if a cannon
were to announce your flight, I should crawl into its mouth to retard
the explosion."
When at last arrived the moment, preconcerted with Montmorin, she clung
to me affectionately until the whistle of our accomplice sounded across
the ditch. Then, securing the rope securely, she watched me descend, her
low sweet voice bidding me Godspeed. I ran in a frenzy to Montmorin. We
sprang into our saddles and sped away.