PRUSSIA
René was here seized with a fit of coughing.
He looked toward the windows; they were closed; at the fireplace; the
coke burned brightly. Putting down the manuscript, he soliloquized:
"I ought to examine the documents in the box and find out whether
Naundorff is a martyr or a visionary."
But the narrative fascinated him and he resumed:
The aggregate terms of my prison life amount to seventeen years.
I said to Montmorin, as we slackened our speed, in order to find a path
which led to an obscure hut wherein we were to pass the night:
"O that I might live among men, daring to breathe! That I might no
longer be hunted down as a criminal. Let me cast away the fatal name and
obliterate the race forever. Montmorin, renounce political schemes and
help me only in this,--to forget the dungeons that have been my
dwelling places."
My friend put his arms around me and said: "I promise."
We slept soundly and started the next morning for Prussia, which we
safely entered, under passports held by Montmorin. We put up at a small
inn, exhausted from our rapid traveling. Just as we were dropping off to
sleep, an officer entered, roughly ordering us from bed. He brought
orders to arrest us as spies. He delivered us to a detachment of troops
pertaining to the division under the command of the Duke of Brunswick.
When we had journeyed a short distance, we were surrounded by a body of
French, treble our number, and I viewed a battle, for the first time in
my life; by the irony of fate, I stood in ranks opposing my countrymen.
Montmorin and I were ordered to fight and we had no choice but that of
obeying. Our detachment was overpowered. The enemy cried, "No quarter!"
Montmorin's horse was better than mine.
"Change with me!" he cried. I could not reply, for we all fell back
together. My noble friend placed himself before me and sought to ward
off the sabre-strokes. My horse fell pierced by a bullet and I could not
extricate myself. Montmorin stooped to disentangle my foot and a French
soldier with a tremendous blow cut his head in twain. Another sabre
descended on my neck and I lost consciousness.
I awoke in a hospital, amid the fearful groans of the other wounded.
Thérèse, does not my narrative seem destitute of those shades of gay and
grave intermingled which constitute the charm of a personal history? Do
you not long for a comic foil to this interminable tragedy? I shall
abridge and hurry on.
I was carried in a straw-loaded wagon to the fortress Wessel and there
placed with other prisoners destined to imprisonment in Toulon. I
protested unavailingly, declaring that I was a Frenchman. I marched with
bleeding feet into France. But falling on the ground in my inability to
continue, I was abandoned by the guard and should have died but for the
care of a peasant woman who carried me to a hospital. In a fellow
patient, I recognized a former companion in arms, by name Fritz. Later
on, we made our way back into Germany. To sustain life during our
journey, we became common thieves and stole fruit, bread,
chickens,--anything we could lay our hands on. Do you hear, Thérèse?
Your brother has been a common thief. Fritz remarked: "We do on a small
scale what kings do on a great one." One day, leaving me his coat as
hostage, he started off on a foraging expedition. He was captured by the
German league known as the Strickreiter. An old peasant with whom we had
become associated, advised that I should go to Saxony where the
Strickreiter were not powerful. He gave me what food and money he could
spare, and, carrying Fritz's coat, in which I found six hundred francs,
I resolved to join the Prussian army, it seeming my only choice. I
started for Berlin. On the journey a fellow traveller evinced great
cordiality, to the extent of lending me his passport, bearing the name
"William Naundorff." He declared he did not require it, being well
known. I looked at this new friend intently. I had seen his face
before.