THE COURT MARTIAL.
Claude was treated roughly, bound, and sent forward on foot; but the
representations of Pere Michel secured better treatment for Mimi. A
litter was made for her, and on this she was carried. As for Pere
Michel himself, he, too, was conducted back as a prisoner; but the
respect of the commander of the soldiers for the venerable priest
caused him to leave his hands unbound. After a weary tramp they
reached Louisbourg. Cazeneau was at the gate, and greeted them with a
sinister smile. Mimi, utterly worn out, both by fatigue and grief,
took no notice of him, nor did she hear what he said.
"Take the Countess de Laborde to the Residency."
"Pardon," said the priest; "that lady is now the Countess de
Montresor."
At this Cazeneau turned upon him in fury.
"Traitor!" he hissed; "what do you mean?"
"I mean that I married her to the Count de Montresor last night."
"It's a lie! It's a lie!"
"There are witnesses," said Pere Michel, "who can prove it."
"It's a lie," said Cazeneau; "but even if it is true, it won't help
her. She'll be a widow before two days. And as for you, you villain
and traitor, you shall bitterly repent your part in last night's
work."
Pere Michel shrugged his shoulders, and turned away. This act seemed
to madden Cazeneau still more.
"Why did you not bind this fellow?" he cried, turning to the
commander of the detachment.
"Your excellency, I had his parole."
"A curse on his parole! Take him to the prison with Motier, and bind
him like the other."
Upon this, Mimi was taken to the Residency, and Claude and Pere
Michel were conducted to prison, where both of them were confined.
Cazeneau himself then returned to the Residency. The ex-commandant,
Florian, was at the door. He saw the whole proceeding, but showed no
particular emotion.
Cazeneau regarded him coldly, and Florian returned his gaze with
haughty indifference.
"Your plans have not succeeded very well, you see, monsieur," said
Cazeneau.
"It is not time enough yet to decide," said Florian.
"To-morrow will decide."
"I think not. You will find, Monsieur le Commandant, that there is
public opinion, even in Louisbourg, which cannot be despised."
"Public opinion which favors traitors may safely be despised."
"True," said Florian; and with these words the two parted.
The following day came. A court martial had been called to sit at two
in the afternoon. At that hour the session was opened by Cazeneau.
The chief officers of the garrison were present. With them came
Florian.
"I am sorry, monsieur," said Cazeneau, "that I cannot invite you to a
seat in this court."
"By virtue of my military rank," said Florian, "I claim a seat here,
if not as judge, at least as spectator. I have come to see that the
Count de Montresor has justice."
"There is no such person. We are to try one Motier."
"It can be proved," said Florian, "that he is the Count de Montresor.
You yourself arrested him first as such."
"I was mistaken," said Cazeneau.
"As a peer of France, he can appeal to the king; and this court has
no final jurisdiction. I call all present to witness this. If my
warning is neglected here, it will be felt in a higher quarter.
Recollect, monsieur, that I shall soon be able to report to his
majesty himself. I flatter myself that my influence at court just now
is not inferior to that of the Count de Cazeneau."
"Perhaps, monsieur," said Cazeneau, with a sneer, "you would wish to
be commandant a little longer."
"All present," said Florian, "have heard my words. Let them remember
that the prisoner is undoubtedly the Count de Montresor, a peer of
France. Witnesses can be produced; among others, the Countess de
Montresor."
"There is no such person," said Cazeneau, angrily. "That lady is the
Countess de Laborde."
"She was married two nights since. All present may take warning by
what I have announced. I will say no more."
The words of Florian had made a profound impression. It was no light
thing for a colonial court martial to deal with a peer of France.
Besides, Florian himself would soon be at court, and could tell his
own story. Cazeneau saw that a limit would be placed to his power if
he did not manage carefully. He decided to act less harshly, and with
more cunning. He therefore assumed a milder tone, assured the court
that Florian was mistaken, disclaimed any personal feeling, and
finally invited Florian to sit among the judges. Upon this Florian
took his seat. The prisoner was now brought forward, and the
witnesses prepared.
The charges were then read. These were to the effect that he had been
captured while coming to Louisbourg under a suspicious character,
calling himself Motier, but pretending to be the son of the outlawed
De Montresor; that afterwards he had escaped from confinement, and
followed Cazeneau, upon whom he had made a murderous attack.
Claude was then questioned. He told his story fully and frankly as
has already been stated. After a severe questioning, he was allowed
to sit down, and Pere Michel was then summoned.
Pere Michel was first asked what he knew about the prisoner. The
priest answered, simply,--
"Everything."
"What do you mean? Go on and tell what you know about him."
Pere Michel hesitated for a moment, and then, looking at Claude, with
a face expressive of the deepest emotion, he said in a low
voice,--
"He is my son."
At this declaration amazement filled all present. Claude was affected
most of all. He started to his feet, and stood gazing at Pere Michel
with wonder and incredulity.
[Illustration: Claude In His Father's Arms.]
"I don't understand," said Cazeneau; "at any rate, this shows that he
is a low-born adventurer."
At this Pere Michel turned to Cazeneau, and said,--
"He is my son, yet neither low-born nor an adventurer. Do you not
know--you--who I am? Often have we seen one another face to face
within the last few weeks; and yet you have not recognized me! What!
have I so changed that not a trace of my former self is visible? Yet
what I was once you see now in my son, whom you best know to be what
he claims. Yes, gentlemen, I am Eugene, Count de Montresor, and this
is my son Claude.--Come, Claude," he continued, "come, my son, to him
who has so often yearned to take you to a father's embrace. I hoped
to defer this declaration until my name should be freed from
dishonor; but in such an hour as this I can keep silent no longer.
Yet you know, my son, that the dishonor is not real, and that in the
eyes of Heaven your father's name is pure and unsullied."
As he said these words, he moved towards Claude. The young man stood,
as pale as death, and trembling from head to foot with excessive
agitation. He flung himself, with a low cry, into his father's arms,
and leaned his head upon his breast, and wept. The whole court was
overcome by this spectacle. There seemed something sacred in this
strange meeting of those so near, who for a lifetime had been
separated, and had at length been brought together so wonderfully.
The silence was oppressive to Cazeneau, who now felt as though all
his power was slipping away. It was broken at last by his harsh
voice.
"It's false," he said. "The Count de Montresor has been dead for
years. It is a piece of acting that may do for the Theatre Francais,
but is absurd to sensible men. Gentlemen, these two concocted this
whole plan last night when together in their cell. I once knew old
Montresor well, and this priest has not a feature in common with
him."
The Count de Montresor turned from his son, and faced the court.
"Cazeneau," said he, with scornful emphasis, "now commandant of
Louisbourg, once equerry to the Count de Laborde, you never knew me
but at a distance, and as your superior. But Florian, here, remembers
me, and can testify to my truth. To this court I have only to say
that I fled to this country from the result of a plot contrived by
this villain; that on the death of my beloved wife I committed my
infant son to the care of my faithful valet,--Motier,--and became a
missionary priest. For twenty years, nearly, I have labored here
among the Acadians and Indians. This year I went to New England in
search of Motier. I had already been carrying on correspondence with
friends in France, who held out hopes that my wrongs would be
righted, and my name saved from dishonor. I did not wish to make
myself known to my son till I could give him an unsullied name. I
found Motier dead, and learned that my son was going to Louisbourg,
_en route_, to France. I asked for a passage, and was thus able to be
near my son, and study his character. It was I who saved him from
prison at Grand Pre; it was I who heard the last words of my former
enemy, Laborde; it was I who saved my son, two nights since, from
prison. He is guilty of nothing. If any one is guilty, that one am I
alone. I ask, then, that I be considered as a prisoner, and that this
innocent young man be set free. But as a peer of France, I claim to
be sent to France, where I can be tried by my peers, since this court
is one that can have no jurisdiction over one of my rank."
Here the Count de Montresor ceased, and turning to his son, stood
conversing with him in a low whisper.
"Every word is true," said Florian. "I assert that Pere Michel is the
Count de Montresor. I had noticed the likeness formerly; but, as I
believed the count to be dead, I thought it only accidental, until a
few days ago, when he revealed the truth to me. I recognized him by
facts and statements which he made. He has changed greatly since the
old days, yet not beyond recognition by a friend. This being the
case, then, we have nothing to do, except to send him to France by
the next ship. As to the young count, his son, I cannot see that we
have any charge against him whatever."
All present, with one exception, had been profoundly moved by the
meeting between father and son, nor had they been much less deeply
moved by the words of the old count, which, though somewhat
incoherent, had been spoken with impressiveness and dignity. The
announcement of his lofty rank; the remembrance of his misfortunes,
of which most present had heard, and which were universally believed
to be unmerited; the assertion that Cazeneau had been the arch
villain and plotter,--all combined to increase the common feeling of
sympathy for the two before them. This feeling was deepened by
Florian's words. His influence, but recently so strong, had not yet
passed away. The new commandant, even under ordinary circumstances,
would have been unpopular; but on the present occasion he was
detested. The feeling, therefore, was general that nothing ought to
be done; and Cazeneau, his heart full of vengeance, found himself
well nigh powerless. But he was not a man who could readily give up
the purpose of his heart; and therefore he quickly seized the only
resource left him.
"Gentlemen," said he, "we must not allow ourselves to be influenced
by purely sentimental considerations. I believe that this priest
speaks falsely, and that he has imposed upon the sympathies of M. de
Florian. Besides, he is an outlaw and a criminal in the eyes of
French justice. As to the young man, whom he calls his son, there is
the charge of a murderous assault upon me, the commandant of
Louisbourg. This must be investigated. But in the present state of
mind of those present, I despair of conducting any important trial,
and I therefore declare this court adjourned until further notice.
Guards, remove these two prisoners, and this time place them in
separate cells, where they can no longer have communication with each
other."
To this no one raised any objection. As commandant, Cazeneau had the
right to adjourn; and, of course, until some actual decision had been
reached, he could dispose of them as he saw fit. They could only
bring a moral pressure to bear, at least for the present. Father and
son were therefore taken back to their prison, and Cazeneau quitted
the court, to take counsel with himself as to his future course. He
hoped yet to have the game in his own hands. He saw that until
Florian was gone it would be difficult, but after that he might
manage to control the opinions of the majority of the officers.
Florian, however, could not go until the next ship should arrive, and
he now awaited its coming with curiosity and eagerness.
He did not have to wait very long.
The court broke up, and the officers talked over the matter among
themselves. Florian was now quite communicative, and told them all
about the early career of Montresor, and his misfortunes. Cazeneau
was the evil cause of all; and Florian was bitter and unsparing in
his denunciations of this man's villany. He took care to remind them
that Mimi, though the wife of Claude, was still held by him under the
pretence that she was his ward, and that Cazeneau, being the creature
of the defunct ministry of the late Fleury, could not be kept long in
his present office by the hostile ministry which had succeeded. He
also assured them that the Montresors had friends among those now in
power, and that the old count was anxiously awaiting the arrival of
the next ship, in the confident hope that justice would at last be
done to him.
By these words, and by this information about things unknown to
Cazeneau, Florian deepened the impression which had been made by the
events of the trial. All were desirous that the Montresors should at
last escape from the machinations of Cazeneau. All looked for the
speedy recall and disgrace of Cazeneau himself, and therefore no one
was inclined to sacrifice his feelings or convictions for the purpose
of gaining favor with one whose stay was to be merely temporary.
While they were yet gathered together discussing these things, they
were disturbed by the report of a gun. Another followed, and yet
another. All of them hurried to the signal station, from which a view
of the harbor was commanded.
There a noble sight appeared before their eyes. With all sail set, a
frigate came into the harbor, and then, rounding to, swept grandly up
towards the town. Gun after gun sounded, as the salute was given and
returned. After her came a schooner.
"It's the Vengeur," said Florian. "I wonder whether Montresor will
get his despatches. Gentlemen, I must go aboard."
With these words Florian hurried away from the citadel to the shore.