|
I MUST now present the
reader with a change of scene, or at least of adventures, in describing
those of Louis Lisle ; who, after having been severely wounded in the arm
by the sword of De Mesmai, was carried off a prisoner from the skirmish of
Fuente Duenna. With a few hundred other captives, gleaned up on different
occasions, he had been confined within the strong fortress of Pampeluna
until the French army retired beyond it, when, with his comrades in
misfortune, he was sent into France and placed in a solitary stronghold on
the left bank of the Nive, a few miles from the village of Cambo. This was
a gloomy old feudal fortress, the property of the Duke of Alba de T------,
who has already figured in preceding chapters. It consisted of a high
square keep, a few flanking towers, and a high wall, embattled along the
top; and every means had been taken to strengthen the place by stockades,
loopholes, cannon, etc. The garrison consisted of two or three companies
of the 105th French regiment of the line. Louis, who had been heartily
tired of his residence in Pampeluna, was but little pleased when he beheld
the gloomy chateau, as the body of prisoners, with an escort of French
lancers, marched up the ascent leading to it.
It was on a dark and
lowering November morning, when the black towers, the gray palisades, the
gloomy court, and muffled-up sentinels appeared more sombre in the dull
red light of the sun, which, like a crimson globe, seemed resting on the
eastern summits of the Pyrenees, and struggling to show its face through
the masses of dun clouds which floated across the sky. The tricoloured
standard of the Emperor was drooping on the summit of the keep, and the
guard were under arms as the prisoners entered the gate. These consisted
principally of Spaniards and Portuguese; there were a few British
soldiers, but Louis was the only officer, and a very discontented one he
seemed, as he looked forward with considerable repugnance to a long
imprisonment in France.
As they halted and formed
line in the court of the fortress, Lisle was somewhat surprised to hear
himself accosted in Spanish by an officer, who, muffled in a large
military cloak, came from the keep. He recognised his friend of Aranjuez,
the father of Donna Virginia,—the same traitorous Spanish noble who now
openly served Buonaparte ; and, as commandant of a French garrison, wore a
staff-uniform embroidered with oak-leaves. Lisle thought of
Virginia,—indeed, he never though of aught else: and veiling his dislike
to the duke, he answered him as politely as possible. He would fain have
asked after the fair donna, but feared to arouse the keen and ready
suspicions of the proud and pompous Spaniard, while so completely within
his power. The duke behaved to him coldly but courteously; and, after
receiving his parole of honour that he would not transgress the bounds of
the chatelet, invited him to dinner, and retired. Louis was now his own
master, with leave to perambulate as much as he chose the courtyard and
palisades of the outworks, while the sentries from every nook and corner
kept sharp eyes upon him, and often, when he attempted to pass their
posts, barred the way with ported arms, and saying, 'Pardon me, monsieur,
you must not pass;' but with a softness of tone and politeness of manner,
very different from what those of a British sentinel would be on a similar
occasion.
The hours passed slowly
away, and Louis began to feel very disconsolate, and very impatient of the
monotony and restraint of a prisoner's life, forming as it did so strong'
a contrast to the heartstirring excitement of campaigning. As it was
contrary to their orders, the sentinels could not converse with him, and
in truth his French was none of the best : so he passed the time in
sauntering dismally about until the sun began to verge westward, and he
knew that the dinner-hour was approaching. In the meantime, he whiled away
the hours as well as he could, by whistling a march, humming a waltz, or
tossing pebbles and fragments of lime from the ramparts to raise circles
and bubbles in the Nive, which swept round an angle of the rocks on which
the fortress stood. These employments he varied by watching with an
intense interest the distant Pyrenees, in hopes to see the far-away
glitter of arms announce the approach of the allies, whose troops he knew
to be in that direction. The eagerness of his glance towards Spain did not
escape the observation of messieurs the sentries of the 105th, and they
twirled their moustaches and regarded each other with a truly French style
of hauteur and complaisance, as they strode briskly to and fro on their
posts; and one young man, pointing towards the Lower Pyrenees, remarked to
him significantly with a smile, 'Ce pays sent la poudre à canon,
monsieur!' About four
o'clock in the afternoon (an early hour in 1813) dinner was announced, and
Lisle was ushered into an ancient hall, roofed with oak, and floored with
stone, but in no way very magnificent. There he was received by the duke
and his daughter, Virginia, who, having heard of her friend's arrival, was
dressed with unusual care to receive him ; her woman had been occupied two
good hours in arranging the massive braids of her glossy hair in a way to
please their coquettish owner. A few officers of the French regiment were
present, and Louis could have dispensed with their presence very well. He
felt jealous at the very sight of them, as they were all handsome fellows,
chevaliers of the Legion and many other orders. Besides, a Frenchman makes
love as no other man does, and a douce Scot is certainly no match for him
in volubility of words and laughter. There was a Spaniard present, who,
although not greatly gifted with personal attractions, appeared to pay so
much attention to Virginia, that Lisle cursed him in his heart for his
impudence, and began to form plans for calling him to a severe account for
his presumption. Like
the duke, this unworthy hidalgo was a renegade, and had been created by
Joseph Buonaparte Count of Aranjuez, and Colmenare de Orija, and knight of
the stole,—an ancient order instituted by the kings of Arragon. He greeted
Lisle coldly enough. They had met before at Aranjuez, where he bore the
name of Felix Joaquin, of the order of Calatrava; for true Spaniards
refused to acknowledge the titles he bore from the usurper's hand. The
donna behaved with the same affability to him as to the other guests,
being unwilling to let him perceive that she understood his attentions ;
but the delight of, Louis at again beholding her and conversing with her
was clouded by chagrin and anger. He soon became aware that the open and
obtrusive attentions of the ci-devant condé were licensed by the
approbation of the old duke.
The dinner passed over quietly enough.
Military matters were avoided by all but one little Gascon major, who
found it impossible to refrain from detailing to Lisle, with evident
exultation, an account of Soult's forcing the passes of Maya and
Roncesvalles on the 25th of July,—affairs from which, if the numerical
force on each side is considered, but very little honour accrues to
France. Encouraged by this applause of his own officers, who were
evidently quizzing him, the little Gascon entertained the company with an
account of his own particular exploits at Maya, where, by his own tale, he
had three horses shot under him. One anecdote did not fail to interest
Lisle. He stated, that on a party of a Scots regiment {sans culottes), who
hurled large stones on the 105th, he took terrible vengeance, by mounting
the rock, which they possessed, and putting them to death with his own
hand! 'Sacre!' said
he, as he concluded, 'Sauve qui pent was the word; but not one of the
fierce sans culottes escaped!'
Donna Virginia said she would excuse the major
his ungenerous triumph, as she believed these were the greatest victories
the French had ever won in Spain. The duke frowned: the count would have
done so too, had gallantry permitted him ; the little major looked big and
twirled up his moustaches; while his subs, like well-bred cavaliers,
laughed, as in duty bound, at the young lady's retort. On Lisle inquiring
for Donna Olivia, Virginia blushed, and tears glittered in her dark eyes;
while her father replied coldly that she had retired to a convent in
Galicia, but did not add that it was to the monasterio de los Arrepentidas,
he had so ruthlessly consigned her.
As soon as dinner was over, Virginia withdrew,
and cigars, wine, and gaming-tables were introduced. The duke and his
intended son-in-law sat down to chess, at which they were as great
enthusiasts as the celebrated Don Pedro Carrera himself, while the
Frenchmen took to trictrac, and quickly became absorbed in all the mystery
of tour à bas—tour d'une, etc., etc.; but Lisle, who had neither money nor
inclination to gamble, begged to be excused, and withdrew, receiving as he
retired a keen glance from the count, to whom he replied by another of
contempt, for rivals soon discover each other. Louis again returned to his
solitary promenade on the lower works of the fortress, and continued to
pace among the cannon and pyramids of shot which lined the stockades,
until he heard his name called, and by a voice which he should have known
amongst ten thousand. 'Luiz! Don Luiz!'
'Virginia!' cried he; and springing to the
grated loop at the base of the keep, he kissed the little hand she
extended towards him.
'Retire now, senor,' said she.
'Ah, why so soon?' said Louis. 'But you must
not senor me—it sounds so distant.'
'Mi querida, then.'
'Ah! that is better, dear Virginia!' and he
kissed her hand again. It was indeed such a hand as one would never tire
of holding. So tiny, and so delicate,—and set off by the handsome black
bracelet round the slender wrist. 'Why would you leave me so soon,
Virginia?' said he, gazing on her beautiful Spanish features. 'It is
long,—very long since we last met!'
'Only a few months, Luiz; and yet the time
does appear very long. But we may be observed; these sharp-sighted French
soldados keep guard on every nook and corner, and my father may hear that
I have met you.' 'He
is busy over the chess-board; and no Frenchman would spoil pleasure such
as ours.' 'I must
indeed leave you. Alas! I am not so free here as at pleasant Aranjuez.'
'Hear me before you go,—but one word,
Virginia!' 'Well,
then,—one only.' 'Who
is this Don Felix,—this Count of Aranjuez?'
'You have spoken a dozen, and broken your
covenant.' 'Who is
he?' 'One of whom we
had better beware. He is no more a count than the tambour passing yonder
with his drum on his back; but he is as false at heart as ever was
Rodriguez, or the Counts of Carrion.'
'He is very attentive to you.'
'He is very troublesome,—Santa Maria ! a
perfect nuisance. But my father favours him, and as his wrath is terrible,
I am forced to dissemble. But ah! retire now, Don Luiz, I beseech you!'
Don Luiz was too much enraptured and
bewildered to obey; and putting in his arm, he encircled and drew her
close to the bars of the loophole, through which he pressed his glowing
lip to her own She yielded to him passively.
'O senor!' 'Senor again! Ah! those infernal
bars, Virginia,' he exclaimed. But releasing herself from his grasp, she
glided away with the lightness of a fairy, and he saw her no more that
night. But there was something so delightful in being near Virginia, and
living under the same roof with her, that his feelings underwent an entire
change before night closed in, and he looked less anxiously towards the
distant positions of Lord Wellington's army on the Pyrenees, and the
aspect of his prison appeared less dismal and desolate. The presence of
Virginia cast a halo over everything; and new feelings of love, hope, and
pleasure began to dawn in his heart.
They met daily, almost hourly, indeed, because
in the narrow compass of a fortress or barrack, people encounter each
other at every turn and corner; and some weeks passed away with a pleasure
to Louis, which nothing seemed to cloud but the chance that Marshal Soult
might order the prisoners in the chateau to be conveyed farther into the
interior of the country, as vague rumours were afloat that the allied army
was about to descend from the mountains and invade France. It was only
from the casual observations of the French officers, at whose mess he
often dined, that Lisle was able to gather any political intelligence; but
that something warlike was expected appeared evident. The garrison of the
chateau was strengthened by a company of chasseurs, additional works were
erected, and scarcely a day passed without French troops being seen on the
march southward; and it was only when Lisle beheld the clouds of dust and
flash of steel appearing on the distant roads that he felt himself indeed
a prisoner, and all the disagreeable nature of his situation came vividly
upon his mind. But again he thought of Virginia, and remembered that a
single smile or a soft word from her was well worth all the gloss and
glitter of parade, the enthusiasm, the excitement, and the glory of
warfare. Being the
only officer among the prisoners, he always dined with the duke, or at the
temporary mess of the French. He preferred the former, to be near
Virginia, upon whom the ci-devant count kept a jealous eye, —the
penetration of which it required all the young lady's art to baffle ;
while at the same time it required all her politeness and good-nature to
enable her to submit to his attentions, which were now becoming, as she
often declared to Louis, 'quite odious and insufferable.' Her cavalier
longed to horsewhip the Spanish traitor for his presumption, and on more
than one occasion would have given him a morning's airing,— in other
words, have 'called him out,' but for fear of an exposé, which he would
rather avoid.
Besides, he had a deeper plot laid, and another object in view. He knew
that Virginia dreaded the duke for his stern austerity as much as he
himself despised him for his treason and falsehood to his native country;
and he hoped, by overcoming her scruples, and prevailing upon her to
consent to a secret marriage, at once to free her from the insolent
perseverance of Don Felix Joaquin and the authority of her father. He had
resolved to await some change of circumstances, such as the removal of the
whole garrison farther into France, or its being strengthened by the
arrival of more troops, as the revengeful dispositions of the duke and
Joaquin were to be dreaded while he remained so much at their mercy as his
situation of prisoner within the narrow limits of the chatelet placed him.
The near approach of the allies had rendered the extension of his parole
impossible ; but he soon found that further delay with time or
circumstances was fraught with danger, and that if he did not at once
secure the hand of Virginia, he might lose it for ever.
With a countenance indicative of much
discomposure, and eyes red with weeping, she appeared one evening at the
grated loophole, where they usually had a meeting alone after dusk. She
had just come from an interview with the duke, who, being resolved to
carry to the utmost the authority assumed by Spanish papas, had abruptly
commanded her to come to a final arrangement with the mercenary condé, or
prepare to join her sister in the monasterio. Louis, who had been long
wavering in his plans, was at once decided by this information. He
prevailed upon her to consent to an elopement, and have that ceremony
performed which would place her beyond the power of her father and the
views of Don Felix. To taking such a step, a Spanish damsel has always
felt less scruples than a British, and with abundance of tears, fears,
agitation, etc., the donna gave her consent, and Lisle retired to arrange
matters. The greatest difficulty was the confounded parole of honour,
which tied him to the chateau.
In this dilemma he applied to his rival, the
count, requesting him to procure leave for him to visit Saint Palais for a
day or two, pledging himself solemnly to return within the given time. The
Spaniard, although detesting Louis Lisle in his heart, offered readily to
befriend him on this occasion—having two ends in view; first, to remove
Lisle from the presence of Virginia; and, secondly, to do so effectually,
by sending him to his long home by means of some of those Continental
assassins, whose daggers are ever at the service of the highest bidder.
Through his interest the duke granted the leave, and long before the break
of day Louis and the donna were clear of the fortress,—the duke's written
order satisfying the scruples of the sub commanding the barrier-guard. At
a village inn hard by they procured horses, and took the road direct for
Cambo, where they hoped to find the cure of the village. The wily count
had previously despatched two of his own servants, Valencians,—rogues who
would have sold their chance of salvation for a maravedi,—to post
themselves in ambush on the road leading to Saint Palais, whither he
believed Lisle to have gone, with orders to shoot him dead the moment he
appeared. So full of joy was Don Felix at the expected revenge, that he
found it impossible to retire to rest, and continued to pace his chamber
all night. With the utmost exultation he heard the noise of his intended
victim's departure in the morning, while it was yet dark, and long ere
gun-fire. As the challenge of the sentinels and clang of the closing gate
echoed through the silent fortress the satisfaction of the Spaniard
increased, and he already imagined himself the master of Virginia's broad
lands on the Nive, and her rich estates in Valentia, la Hermosa; and long
he watched the road to Saint Palais, in hope of seeing the death-shot
gleam through the darkness.
An hour elapsed, and he felt certain that the
victim must have fallen into the deadly snare; but his anxiety to behold
the completion of his plot would not permit him to delay an instant
longer. Ordering a soldier of the guard to saddle his horse, he stuck his
pistols into his girdle, drew his hat over his eyes, and muffling himself
in his mantle, he rode forth, feeling the exhilarating influence of a
gallop in the breezy morning air infinitely agreeable, after a night of
feverish excitement and drinking in his close chamber. As he approached
the spot where he had placed the assassins in ambush, he hid his face in
his mantle, and rode more slowly forward, with a beating heart, scanning
the roadway in expectation of seeing the corse of his rival stretched upon
it. But he looked in vain! The winding road between the thickets was
clear, and appeared so for many a mile beyond. Enraged to a pitch of
madness at the idea of his escape, he dashed the rowels into his horse and
galloped on; when lo! two carbines flashed from adjacent thickets,—one on
each side of the way. A sudden exclamation of rage and agony escaped from
him; his horse reared up wildly, and, pierced by a two-ounce bullet, the
worthy count of Aranjuez and Colmenare de Orija, knight of Calatrava and
the Stole, etc., etc., fell to the earth, and almost instantly expired.
While Don Felix fell thus into his own snare,
his more fortunate rival, with Donna Virginia, galloped along the bank of
the Nive, pursuing the road to Cambo, where they arrived about sunrise,
and sought without delay the house, or rather the cottage, of the village
pastor. There fresh obstacles arose, as the reverend gentleman pretended
to have many conscientious scruples about wedding a Catholic lady to a
Briton and a heretic. But a few gold napoleons overcame his qualms, and he
consented to perform the important ceremony, with a description of which
it is needless to tire the reader. Louis had no ordinary task to
accomplish in soothing the hesitation and terrors of Virginia, who was—
Crimsoned with shame, with terror mute,
Dreading alike escape, pursuit;
Till love, victorious o'er alarms,
Hid fears and blushes in his arms.'
There were no witnesses to the ceremony, so
important to Louis and his bride, save a stout villager and his wife, who
declared that Donna Virginia's black veil and velvet mantilla were
contrary to all rule and established custom, as white drapery, pure as the
virgin snow, and a coronet of white flowers and orange-buds, formed the
bridal garb in France. But there was no help for it, and the donna became
the Honourable Mrs. Lisle, in her high comb, braided hair, and long black
veil, which swept the ground. Louis now remembered his father, whose
existence he had almost forgotten in the excitement of the elopement; but
he well knew that his indulgent relative would pardon the hasty union,
considering the circumstances which urged it, and he longed for the time
when he should present to him, and to his sister Alice, his beautiful
Virginia, who, although the daughter of a traitor, was descended from one
of the noblest houses in Old Castile.
The bride was too much agitated to return
immediately to the chateau, and to encounter the wrath of that terrible
old don her father, and so they remained that night at the cottage of the
pastor of Cambo.
Early next morning Louis was aroused from the couch of his bride by the
sound of French drums near the village. He heard them rattling away quand
on battait la retraite (the retreat); then succeeded the 'long roll,' a
sound which never fails to rouse a soldier. The noise of distant firing
was heard, and he sprung from the side of the blushing and trembling
Virginia, and threw open the casement. It was a beautiful morning: the sun
shone brightly and the birds chirped merrily; the dew was gleaming like
silver from the branches of the leafless trees; the sky was clear and
blue, and the bold outlines of the Pyrenees were seen stretching far away
in the distance towards Passages and Bayonne. Dense columns of French
infantry were crowding in confusion along the road which led to the bridge
of Cambo, while the sharpshooters of the advancing allies, hovering on
their rear and flanks, kept up an irregular but destructive fire, which
their chasseurs, who lined every wall and hedge, endeavoured to return.
Lisle saw that there was no time to be lost,
if he would return to the chateau. The discomfited French were pouring
across the bridge of Cambo, where a detachment of sapeurs were busy at
work, undermining one of the piers. The main body of the allies were
already in sight. The green and scarlet uniforms of the light infantry
were seen at intervals, appearing and disappearing as they leaped from
bush to hedge, and from hedge to wall, firing, and then lying flat on
their faces to reload, and avoid the fire of the enemy. Mingled with other
sharpshooters, he beheld the light company of his own regiment, and knew
their tall green and black plumes as they floated on the morning wind.
Wistfully did Lisle look towards them; and it was with no ordinary
feelings of chagrin that he beheld his friends so near, and yet found
himself under the disagreeable necessity of returning to the chateau,
where he would be exposed to the insults and vengeance of an intractable
old Spaniard, to whom he now stood in the relation of son-in-law.
Virginia, who was excessively terrified by the
noise of the firing, which was now heard around Cambo on all sides, and
not less alarmed at the rage and disorder which prevailed among the
retreating French, with tears and caresses besought Louis to remain unseen
in the little cottage of the curate, until the allies gained possession of
the village. But that resolve was impossible. His word was pledged to her
father, and he must return—even at the risk of certain death. He prepared
without delay to cross the river. On entering the stable to caparison
their horses, he found that the worthy pastor had decamped in the night,
taking them with him, and everything of any value,—leaving only a stubborn
old mule. Venting a bitter malediction on the thief, Lisle tied a halter
to the long-eared steed, and led him forth into the yard, just as the gate
was dashed open by the French, whose rear-guard had commenced plundering
and destroying the houses, to leave no shelter to the allies, who were now
become invaders of France.
On beholding his red uniform and plumed
bonnet, two charged him with their bayonets, which he had barely time to
parry with a hay-fork that he hurriedly snatched up. They called upon him
to surrender, and he found himself in imminent peril. Virginia was crying
aloud from the interior of the cottage for aid, which it was impossible to
yield her, as he was hemmed against the bayonets of a dozen soldiers. From
this disagreeable predicament he was relieved by the interference of an
officer who, exclaiming, 'Redressez vos armes, messieurs!' struck down
their bayonets with his sabre, and compelled them to retire. He then asked
Louis, sternly, how he came there. Louis informed him, as briefly and as
well as his imperfect knowledge of French would permit, that he was a
prisoner of war on his parole of honour, and was only desirous of crossing
the Nive with the French forces. He prayed the Frenchman, as an officer
and gentilhomme, to rescue the lady, who was now crying aloud for
assistance. The officer sheathed his sabre, and rushing into the cottage
among the soldiers who thronged it, returned in a minute with Virginia,
who was all tears and agitation, leaning on his right arm, while with true
French politeness he carried his weather-beaten cocked hat under his left.
He relieved poor Lisle from a state of dreadful suspense, by placing her
under his protection. She was nearly terrified out of her senses ; and
that she might not be subjected to further insult, the officer ordered a
corporal breveté, with a file of soldiers, to attend them as a guard.
Under their friendly escort, Louis at once prepared to leave the village,
which was now enveloped in flames and smoke, and involved in tumult and
uproar, while the bullets of the British riflemen came whistling every
second among the crowded streets and blazing rafters. Placing Virginia
upon the mule, which the honest curate had left behind him as worthless,
Louis led it by the bridle,and pressing into the ranks of the French,
crossed the bridge, which was no sooner cleared than the sapeurs sprung
the mine, and it was reduced to ruins in a moment. The firing now ceased,
the rapid and swollen state of the Nive rendering pursuit impossible; and
Louis, as he looked back towards Cambo, beheld his own brigade leisurely
entering it,—marching along the highway, in close column of subdivisions;
but they were soon hidden in the smoke of the village, which was
enveloping in a white cloud the whole southern bank of the river.
Continuing to lead by the bridle the mule upon which Virginia rode, Louis
returned to the chateau, where all was bustle and warlike preparation. The
works were bristling with bayonets, the guns were all shotted, and the
lighted matches smoked beside them. The chasseurs and the two companies of
the 105th were under arms, and the little major was bustling up and down,
ordering, directing, and quarrelling with all and each; while his
commandant, the duke, looked sullenly around him, scanning through a
telescope the advance of the allies.
The death of the count was as yet unknown,—the
assassins, on discovering their mistake, having plundered and concealed
the body, after which they absconded, and were no more heard of for a
time. Such was the posture of affairs when Lisle entered the court of the
place, where cannon-shot, bombshells, and casks of ammunition lay strewed
about in confusion. He had scarcely reached the spot when he became aware
that a scene of high dramatic interest was about to be enacted. He was
rudely seized by two soldiers with their swords drawn, while the duke at
the same moment violently dragged his daughter from her saddle, ere Lisle
could raise a hand to free her from his grasp. So bitterly was he enraged,
that the stern reproaches he hurled against the affrighted and sinking
Virginia, and the fierce menaces against Louis, were for some time totally
incoherent. 'False
picaro! I will have your heart thrown to my dogs for this!' he exclaimed,
gazing at Louis with an eye of vindictive fury. 'And as for you, most
gracios senora, you shall join your sister in the monasterio at Galicia.'
'Stay, my lord!' interposed Lisle, becoming
violently excited; 'you somewhat overrate your authority in this matter.
She is no longer under your control, and so unhand her instantly. Come to
me, Virginia! You are my wedded wife, and no human power can separate us
now.' The reply of the fierce Spaniard was a deadly thrust at Louis with
his sword. Some fatal work would have ensued, had not the little major
struck aside the blade, and desired him to remember that the laws of war
must be respected, and that Monsieur Lisle was a prisoner of France.
Louis's blood boiled within him, while poor Virginia covered her face with
her hands, and shrieked aloud to behold her husband and father glaring at
each other with eyes of fire, until by the command of the latter she was
borne away to her chamber in the keep.
'Demonios! major, how did you dare to stay my
hand?' asked he, turning furiously to the Frenchman.
'Parbleu, Monsieur le Duc!''Do you suppose I
will ever permit the honour of my long-descended house to be stained with
the pretensions of a base and degenerate fool? a nameless Briton, par Diez!'
'Proud Spaniard!' replied Louis, resentment
glowing in his cheek and kindling in his eye; 'my ancestry were not less
splendid than your own; but mine is the degradation, in allying myself
with a traitor like you, who has abandoned his king and country to serve
under the banner of a savage invader! But the virtues of such a woman as
Virginia might redeem your whole race from perdition.'
'Parbleu!' said the major again.
'And recollect, gentlemen and soldiers,'
continued Lisle, 'that if I am maltreated by any within these walls, you
may all smart for it yet. See you, sirs, the allies are close at hand,
driving the boasting soldiers of the Emperor before them as the wind
drives the mist, and the whole of Gascony will be theirs before another
sun sets.'
'Presomption et vanité!' said the major, turning up his eyes and shrugging
his shoulder. 'Aha! Les Francais sont au fait du metier de la guerre de
terre!' And many officers of the 105th, who crowded round, laughed
heartily, and observed, that probably in a week or two the allies would be
flying for shelter across the Pyrenees. Lisle blessed his stars that the
garrison was not composed entirely of Spaniards; for, assuredly, the duke
would have slain him on the spot but for the firm interference of the
French officers. He was, however, put under close arrest, and a sentinel
placed over him. The place in which he was confined was a projecting
turret of the outworks, and there he was left to his own reflections,
which were none of the most agreeable. He found himself acting the part of
a romantic hero, but certainly little to his own satisfaction. In the same
turret was confined a genuine Teague, a soldier of the 88th Regiment, who
had been placed in durance for two desperate attempts to escape when the
allies appeared in sight. Mister Paddy Mulroony was seated very composedly
in a corner, smoking a black pipe about an inch long, while in his cunning
but good-natured face was seen that droll curl of the mouth, and keen
twinkling of the eye, which are so decidedly Irish.
'Och, tearin' murther! this is a poor case,
indeed,' said he, springing up to attention. 'Bad luck to the whole
boiling of them! and is it a gintlemin like yer honner that they are
afther traitin' this way? Never mind, sir; the allies—the hand iv Saint
Pater be over thim!—are in sight, and maybe they will be stormin' this
rookery some fine morning, whin, wid the blessin' ov God, we'll see every
throat in it cut.'
Lisle was boiling with rage at the treatment to which he was subjected;
but that was a slight affair when compared with his anxiety for Virginia,
who was now entirely at the mercy of her father, of whose ferocity and
remorseless disposition he had seen several examples. For some time he
remained immersed in thought, while he strode hastily backward and forward
in the narrow compass of their prison : and it was not until 'league's
maledictions became very vehement that Lisle found he had a companion in
misfortune. 'Well,
friend: and what brought you here?'
'Eight French spalpeens, sir, and my fortine
or misfortine, and that little baste ov a major, bad luck to him! I was
nigh out ov their claws this very mornin', clever and clane; but they
clapped me up here, the ill-mannered bog-trotters! And sure, it 'ud vex
ould Moses himself to see the rid coats across the river yonder, and yet
be caged up here like a rat in a trap.'
'To what regiment do you belong?'
'The Connaught Rangers, yer honner,—the boys
that gave Phillipon, the old scrawdon, such a fright at Badajoz.' 'A brave
corps. And your name?'
'Pat Mulroony. I come from one side of Dublin,
where my father has a beautiful estate, wid deer-parks such as ye never
saw on the longest day's march. And though it is meself that siz it, there
was not a smarter fellow than me in the whole division, from right to
left; no, not one, yer honner! If you plaze, sir, we may yet give the
French—bad cess to them!—the slip; and by the mortal! I'll stand by yer
honner like steel, for shure I'd do it for love if for nothin' else; for
the Scots and the Irish were one man's childer in Noah's day. In ould
ancient forren times, the blessed Saint Patrick himself was a Scotsman,
until his bad-mannered countrymen, in a fit of unkindness, cut off his
head, and he swam oyer wid it under his arm to Donaghadee, and became a
good Irishman. Often I have heard old Father O'Rafferty at Dunleary tell
us of that, when I used to take him home from Mother Macnoggin's wid a
dhrop in his eye. He was the broth of a boy, that ould O'Rafferty, and a
riglar devil among the girls, for all that he was a praste; and when the
craytur was in, it's little he'd think of giving the best man in his flock
a palthog on the ear. But perhaps it's inthrudin' on yer honner I am?'
Louis, though pleased with the fellow's humour, was not in a talking mood.
' May my tongue be blistered if I spake any more to ye, or bother ye in
the midst of yer throubles!' said Pat in conclusion.
Anxiety and fear for poor Virginia plunged
Lisle into deep despondency, and not all the attempts of honest Mulroony
could wean him from his melancholy reflections. He could scarcely be in
any other than an unpleasant mood, as it was rather annoying for a'
newly-married man to spend the time immediately succeeding his nuptial-day
in a stone turret, measuring eight feet by six. Two or three days passed
away, and Louis found considerable satisfaction in the knowledge that
Virginia was yet near him,— that the walls of the fortress still contained
her. He had acquainted his humble friend with his story, and Paddy became
more eager than before to serve him; and vowed, for his sake, to face '
either man or devil, if he had only an opportunity, bad luck to it!' The
place in which they were confined was an échauguette, or small turret,
built on an acute angle of a bastion close to the gate of the fortress,
and from the loopholes Louis and his friend kept by turns a constant
watch, so that it was impossible for Virginia to be carried off without
their knowledge; and Lisle would probably have become frantic had he seen
her departure, which he hourly expected would take place. One night
Mulroony was on sentry at the loophole, watching the gateway, while Louis
slept on the floor. The night was intensely dark,—' one on which ye
couldn't see yer nose fornenst ye,' as Mulroony himself said.
'Blistheration and blackness be on the day I
ever saw ye!' soliloquized he, as he scanned the castle and its defences.
'Shure it 'ud vex Mister Job, let alone a Connaught Ranger, to be caged up
here, shaking at ivery puff of wind, like a dog in a wet sack. Bad cess to
them, the spalpeens ov blue blazes! Och! how long is this to last, at all,
at all?' 'Senor,—Luiz!'
said a soft voice, close beside the loophole.
'Hubbuboo, tearin' murther! who are you,
misthress?' said Mulroony, starting back in dismay as a dark figure,
muffled in a hooded mantilla, appeared at the loophole. 'Is it me you're
looking for, darlint? Well thin, honey, it's just right you are, for there
is not a smarter man in all the Connaught Rangers than Pat Mulroony,—damn
the one from right to left! Ye've just come to the right shop, honey; for,
at wake or weddin', who was the jewil ov the young ladies like Mr.
Mulroony?' 'O madre
Maria!' said poor Virginia, shrinking back in astonishment and grief.
Understanding that Louis occupied this turret, she had resolved to pay him
a visit, favoured by the darkness of the night and the inattention of her
father and the duenna, who were both at that time engaged,—the former at
the chessboard with the major, and the latter with her mass-book and
brandy-bottle. Trembling with affection, fear, and the chill night wind,
which blew roughly on her delicate frame, she sought the place of Lisle's
confinement; and great was her dismay at Mulroony's reply, which, although
she did not understand, she well knew to be the voice of a stranger; but
she implored him in Spanish, por amor de San Juan de Dios, to say where
Don Luiz was confined.
'Don't be in such a flustheration, honey,'
said Mulroony, putting out his arms to embrace her. The lady shrunk back
indignantly, and it now occurred to the egotistical gentleman to awaken
Louis, thinking the visit might be intended for him.
'I say, sir ! here's something wantin' to
spake wid ye. I can't tell what it says, because it spakes like naythur
Frinchman, nor devil, God bless us !' Louis sprung up.
'Virginia!' said he, and gave her his hand
through the loophole. But she made no reply, save pressing it to her
throbbing breast; her heart was too full to permit her to utter anything.
'Virginia, have you any new distress to tell me of?' 'Oh, Luiz!' said she,
sobbing as if her heart would burst, ' we meet for the last time.'
'How!' he exclaimed in distress and alarm,
encircling her with his arm as if to keep her with him. 'Who will dare to
separate us now?' 'My
father. To-morrow I go from this; but whether to Paris of Galicia, I know
not. Oh, Luiz! his hatred is terrible. But for the intercession of the
major, you would have been in eternity by this time.' The challenge of a
sentinel at the other angle of the bastion, and the tread of a foot, now
alarmed them.
'Retire, Virginia, for a moment; 'tis only the patrol, or some affair of
that sort. I would not have you discovered here for the world.' She had
only time to shrink into a corner, and conceal herself behind the carriage
of a piece of ordnance, when a man approached the turret. It was the
corporal of the guard, who usually came every night before the drums beat,
to see that the prisoners were all right. The door was of massive oak,
studded with iron nails, and while the corporal was undoing its ponderous
fastenings, a sudden thought occurred to Lisle. 'Be on the alert, Mulroony,'
said he; 'I will now endeavour to escape, or die in the attempt!'
'Right, yer honour! I'm yer man. Lave me to
dale wid that spalpeen ov a corporal, and by the holy Saint Peter! I won't
lave a whole bone in his skin.'
'Hush! let us only compel him to give up the
watchword, and 'then we will gag and bind him hard and fast. I need keep
faith no longer with those who doubt my parole.'
The unsuspecting Frenchman opened the door and
looked in, merely to assure himself that the prisoners were in their cage.
'Come in, corporal dear,' said Mulroony, grasping him by the throat, and
dragging him into the chamber.
'Sacre—diable!' growled the astonished Gaul,
struggling with his athletic adversary, who tripped up his heels, and in a
twinkling laid him on his back, and pressed his knees upon his breast.
'Och, honey! don't be in such a devil ov a
flustheration! Give but the smallest cry in life, and it's yer neck I'll
be dhrawin' like a pullet's!'
'Merci, monsieur! Ah, misericorde!' gasped the
half-strangled soldier.
'Come, Monsieur Caporal!' said Louis fiercely;
'surrender the countersign, or expect such treatment as desperate men may
yield you. Mulroony, take your hand from his throat. Answer, Frenchman,
for your life!'
'MARENGO!' replied the other, and commenced immediately to bellow aloud
for his comrades; but his cries were drowned in the singing of the wind
and noise of the Nive, which rushed over a steep cascade below the
bastion. 'Och,
murther! it's all over now; he'll bring the whole pack on us wid his
schreechin',—the devil dhraw the tongue out ov ye! Tunder an' oons! Thurf
and blazes! what's this he is after now?'
Paddy soon discovered that, and to his cost.
The corporal, on getting one hand free, drew his bayonet, and plunged it
into the arm of his antagonist, who no sooner found himself wounded than
he broke into a tremendous storm of passion. Thundering out one of those
formidable curses which come so glibly from an Irish tongue, he wrested
the weapon from the Frenchman, and buried it twice in his breast. All this
passed in less than a minute, and the Frenchman expired without a groan.
'Mulroony, have you killed him? asked Louis,
considerably excited.
'Deed have I, sir,—the murderin' villyan!'
answered the other composedly.
'Poor fellow! I had no intention that he
should be slain. He was but doing his duty.'
'A purty thing, to make sich a moan for a
spalpeen iv a Frencher,' answered the Irishman testily.
'Our lives are now indeed forfeited, if we
cannot escape. Virginia!' He went from the turret to where she sat in a
sort of stupor with cold and terror, and in a few words informed her that
they must escape now, or be for ever lost.
'Blue blazes,.sir!' bawled Paddy from the
turret-door; 'is it the wimmen ye're afther? Is this a time to go making
love? Musha! musha! sure there's always mischief where they are.'
'Quick now, Mulroony,—follow us!' said Louis,
who encircled Virginia with his arm to support her. ' We have not a moment
to lose. Heaven grant me firmness now!'
Armed with the bayonet, and grumbling curses
at the blood which was flowing freely from his arm, Mulroony followed
Lisle and the lady to the barrier-gate, where two sentries were posted.
The night was dark and black, and a dismal wind howled between the works
and embrasures. The sentinels kept within their turrets, and everything
seemed favourable to their escape.
'Qui vive? challenged one fellow at the gate.
Louis hesitated a moment,—and the British reply 'Friend,' almost escaped
his lips. 'Belzdbuth!
Qui va la? cried the gate-ward, again striking the butt of his firelock on
the sentry-box floor.
'Make some answer, or we are undone,'
whispered Virginia, as she clung in terror to the arm of Louis, who, still
advancing towards the gate, replied in a feigned voice : 'Caporal, hors de
la garde! iAha!'
replied the sentinel, coming from his box. 'Avance, qui a I'ordre,'
'Marengo,' replied Louis.
'Passe, mon ami! replied the soldier,
returning to his box. His suspicions were lulled, and they gained the gate
without further molestation, the darkness of the night rendering their
figures so indistinct that it was impossible for the sentinels to discover
them. The barrier was composed of strong planks, through which a little
wicket was cut. 'How
fortunate!' said Lisle; ' the passage is open, and the drawbridge down. We
are free, and shall soon be safe among the British troops.'
'Huisht, plaze yer honner; its hearin' us
they'll be! Be aisy. Help out the lady : will you lane on my arm, too, mem?
'Senor?' She did not understand him.
An exclamation in Spanish caused them all to
start. 'Dios mio! my father!' shrieked Virginia, as an officer outside the
gate sprung forward and drove his sword through the body of the brave
Mulroony, who fell mortally wounded, while the guard and sentries came
running from all quarters to the spot. Louis found himself again a
prisoner, and when on the very brink of freedom.
'Bring a lantern!' exclaimed the duke, whom
Lisle's evil genius had brought to the gate, but on what errand he never
discovered. 'Bring a light, and let us see what soldier of the Emperor is
base enough to assist prisoners to escape. I surely heard French spoken by
some one.' The
drummer of the guard held a lantern to Lisle's face, and his scarlet coat,
when it appeared in the light, caused every brow to lour. The countenance
of the duke turned pale when he beheld him. His eyes glistened like those
of a serpent, as he gazed alternately upon him and Virginia, who, in an
agony of horror, sunk down at his feet, close to the body of the gallant
Irishman, whose features were now becoming rigid in death. He had expired
almost immediately, after receiving the thrust of the Spaniard's sword.
At that moment a soldier came hastily forward,
saying that the corporal of the guard lay murdered in the turret from
which the prisoners had escaped, and a volley of threats and execrations
broke from the men of the 105th, who crowded round.
'Aha!' said the Gascon major, pressing
forward. 'Is it thus you slay the soldiers of the Emperor? You shall smart
for this night's work, Monsieur Ribaud!''
'Do you dare to apply such an epithet to me?'
replied Lisle furiously, spurning the Gascon with his foot, and struggling
to free his arms, which were tightly grasped by the soldiers.
'Bind up his eyes, some of ye, and let him be
instantly shot! Give not a moment for prayer or supplication. We will have
life for life,— blood for blood!' cried the Spaniard.
'Base renegade! I scorn your malice, and defy
you to terrify me!' cried Louis, regardless of all consequences, and from
despair gathering a courage which gained him the admiration of the French,
though it won from them no mercy. The little major was foaming with
exasperation at the insult he had received, and made no longer any
intercessions. The private soldiers, who were enraged at the death of
their comrade, eyed him likewise in malignant silence. Virginia was borne
away senseless, and Lisle gazed sadly after her, until he was startled by
the sharp words of command given coolly by a sergeant to six soldiers, who
were picked out to become his executioners. For a moment his heart grew
sick and sunk within him, when he thought of his home and of those brave
comrades who were only a few miles distant. But he scorned to ask mercy
from the duke, from the father of Virginia, who by the light of a huge
lantern (which cast a dull flickering light on the dark groups of armed
soldiers, and still darker walls of the fortress) watched the preparations
made by the firing party with steady gravity and coolness.
'Chargez vos amies/' cried the sergeant. 'Prenez
la cartouche! Amorcez! L'arme à gauche!' etc., and the noise of the steel
ramrods ringing in the barrels, as the cartridges were rammed home, fell
like a knell upon the ears of Louis. He certainly grew pale, but his heart
never quailed as he looked upon the loading of the muskets. He resolved to
die with honour to his character and the garb he wore. At that moment, so
critical to him, a French cavalry officer, on a panting horse, dashed up
to the gate at full gallop, inquiring with all the hurry and importance of
an aide-de-camp for the commandant of the place.
'Monsieur le Duc' said he, 'the allies are in
motion: their troops have begun to cross the Nive, and Marshal Soult
desires that you will be on the alert, and defend the ford, under the guns
of this chateau, to the last,' Without waiting for an answer, he wheeled
round his horse and galloped out of sight in a moment. The clatter of the
hoofs had scarcely died away, before two of the sentinels, posted on the
bastion overlooking the ford, fired their muskets. A volley replied,
lighting up the whole fortress for an instant, and all became hurry and
confusion. Louis was thrust into his old place of confinement,—the
castle-gates were secured,—the bridge was drawn up, and in five minutes
every man was at his post. From the inmost recesses of his heart Lisle
thanked Heaven for his narrow escape; and while in the close compass of
his prison he listened to the booming cannon and musketry, which shook the
ancient fabric to its foundations, he earnestly prayed that the attack
would be successful ; and he well knew, by the hearty British cheers which
from time to time came ringing on the wind, even above the noise of the
conflict, that his comrades were carrying all before them. |
