THE DESERTER
Dim and strange are the recollections that steal over me while I read
these time-worn letters of one who, with all his faults, was the
kindest, fondest, and best of enthusiasts. It seems like a dream; I
cannot fancy that I am the child alluded to. It seems as though all
this must have happened to some one else, and that I stood by and
watched. Yet have I a vague and shadowy remembrance of the warm
autumnal evening; the road soft and thick with dust; the creaking,
monotonous motion of the carriage, and my waking up from an occasional
nap, and finding myself propped by the strong arm of a stranger, and
nestling my head upon his broad shoulder, whilst my father's kind face
and eager eyes were turned towards my new acquaintance with the earnest
comprehensive look I remember so well. My father always seemed to take
in at a glance, not only the object that attracted his attention, but
all its accessories, possible as well as actual. I believe he never
left off painting in his mind. I remember nothing very distinctly; and
no wonder, for my little brain must have been a strange chaos of
shifting scenes and unexpected events, foreign manners and home ideas,
to say nothing of a general confusion of tongues; for I could prattle
French, German, and Hungarian, with a smattering of Turkish, not to
mention my own native language; and I used them all indiscriminately.
But my father's letters bring back much that I had otherwise forgotten,
and whilst I read the story of the renegade, I can almost fancy I am
leaning against his upright soldierlike form, and listening to the clear
decided tones in which he told his tale.
LETTER III
"'I am a soldier, sir,' said my new acquaintance, whilst I leant back in
the carriage smoking my cigar, and, _more meo_, Hal, made the most of my
'study.' 'I am an Austrian soldier--at least I was a week ago--I would
not give much for my chance if ever I come into the clutches of the
"Double Eagle" again. Shall I tell you why I entered the Imperial army?
All my life I have thought it best to be on the winning side. If I had
been born an Englishman, oh, what happiness! I would have asked no
better lot than to wander about with my dog and my gun, and be free.
But a Croat, no, there is no liberty in Croatia. We must have masters,
forsooth! territorial dues and seignorial rights; and we must bow and
cringe and be trampled on by our own nobility. But these, too, have
_their_ masters, and I have seen the lord of many thousand acres tremble
before a captain of dragoons. So I determined that if a military
despotism was to be the order of the day, why I, too, would make a part
of the great engine, perhaps some time I might come to wield it all. My
father was appointed steward to a great lord in Hungary--perhaps, had he
remained, I might never have left home, for I am his only child, and we
two are alone in the world; besides, is not a son's first duty to obey
his father?--but I could not bear to exchange the free open air, and my
horse, and my gun, and my dogs (I had the best greyhounds in Croatia),
for a leathern stool and an inkstand, and I said, "Father, I too will
become an Austrian, and so some day shall I be a great man, perhaps a
colonel, and then will I return once a year to see you, and comfort you
in your old age." So I was sworn to obey the Emperor, and soon I learnt
my exercise, and saw that to rise even in the Austrian army was not
difficult for one who could see clearly before him, and could count that
two and two make four, and never five.
"'Very few men are soldiers at heart, and those who love the profession
and would fain shine, can only see one way to success, and that must be
the old-established track that has always been followed. If I wanted to
move across that stream and had no boats, what should I do? I would try
if it be too deep to wade. But the regulation says, soldiers shall not
wade if the water be over a certain depth. So for six inches of water I
must be defeated. That should not be my way; if it came no higher than
their chins my men should cross; and if we could keep our muskets dry,
where would be the harm? Well, I soon rose to be a corporal and a
sergeant; and whilst I practised fencing and riding and gymnastics, I
learnt besides something of gunnery and fortification, and the art of
supplying an army with food. At last I was made lieutenant and
paymaster of the regiment, for I could always calculate readily, and
never shrank from trouble or feared responsibility. So I had good pay
and good comrades, and was getting on. Meanwhile my poor father was
distressing himself about my profession, and imagining all sorts of
misfortunes that would happen to me if I remained a soldier. In his
letters to me he always hinted at the possibility of some great
success--at his hopes of, before long, placing me in an independent
position; that I should leave the army to come and live with him, and we
would farm an estate of our own, and never be parted any more. Poor old
man! what do you think he built on? why, these foolish lotteries.
Ticket after ticket did he purchase, and ticket after ticket came up a
blank. At last, in his infatuation, he raised a sum of money--enough to
obtain him all the numbers he had set his heart upon--for he mixed
calculation with his gambling, which is certain ruin--and for this
purpose he embezzled two thousand florins of his employer's property,
and wasted it as he had done the rest. In his despair he wrote to me.
What could I do? two thousand florins were in the pay-chest. I have it
here in this leathern bag. I have saved my father; he is steward at
Edeldorf. I shall see him to-night; after that I must fly the country.
I will go to England, the land of the free. I am ruined, degraded, and
my life is not worth twelve hours' purchase; but I do not regret it.
Look at your boy, sir, and tell me if I am not right.' He is a fine
fellow this, Hal, depend upon it; and though my own feelings as a
gentleman were a little shocked at a man talking thus coolly of robbery
in anything but the legitimate way on the turf, I could scarcely
remonstrate with him now the thing was done; so I shook him by the hand,
and promised him at any rate a safe convoy to Edeldorf, which we were
now rapidly approaching. You like a fine place, Hal; you always did. I
remember when you used to vow that if ever Fortune smiled upon you--and
faith, it is not for want of wooing that you have missed the goddess's
favours--how you would build and castellate and improve Beverley Manor,
till, in my opinion as an artist and a man of associations, you would
spoil it completely; but I think even your fastidious taste would be
delighted with Edeldorf. The sun was just down as we drove into the
park, and returned the salute of the smart Hussar mounting guard at the
lodge; and the winding road, and smooth sward dotted with thorns, and
those eternal acacias, reminded one of a gentleman's place in Old
England, till we rounded the corner of a beautifully-dressed
flower-garden, and came in view of the castle itself, with all its
angles and turrets and embrasures, and mullioned windows, and
picturesque ins-and-outs; the whole standing boldly out in a
chiaro-oscuro against the evening sky, fast beginning to soften into
twilight. Old De Rohan was on the steps to welcome me, his figure
upright and noble as ever; his countenance as pleasing; but the beard
and moustache that you and I remember so dark and glossy, now as white
as snow; yet he is a very handsome fellow still. In mail or plate,
leaning his arm on his helmet, with his beard flowing over a steel
cuirass inlaid with gold, he would make a capital seneschal, or marshal
of a tournament, or other elderly dignitary of the middle ages; but I
should like best to paint him in dark velvet, with a skull-cap, as Lord
Soulis, or some other noble votary of the magic art; and to bring him
out in a dusky room, with one ray of vivid light from a lamp just over
his temples, and gleaming off that fine, bold, shining forehead, from
which the hair is now completely worn away."
There are no more of the old dusty letters. Why these should have been
tied up and preserved for so many years is more than I can tell. They
have, however, reminded me of much in my youth that I had well-nigh
forgotten. I must try back on my vague memories for the commencement of
my narrative.