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blow has made him faint. This foraging cap, which would have been
of no protection in its proper place, has saved his life here. Give him
some brandy and he will be all right."
"How strange," said Pichegru; "this cap belongs to the chasseurs of
Condé's army."
Just then Charles revived, and his first movement, on coming to
himself, was to look for the foraging cap. He was about to ask for it
when he saw it in the general's hand. "Ah! general," he said,
"pardon me."
"You may well ask pardon for having given us such a fright."
"Oh! not that," said Charles, smiling and pointing to the cap which
Pichegru held in his hand.
"You must explain this to me," said Pichegru.
Charles came close to the general and said in a low voice: "That
belongs to the Comte de Sainte-Hermine, that young noble who was
shot; and when he was dying he asked me to give it to his family."
"But," said Pichegru, feeling it, "there is a letter inside."
"Yes, general; to his brother. The poor fellow feared it might be lost
if he gave it to a stranger."
"While in confiding it to some one from his own part of the country
he had nothing to fear, I suppose."
"Have I done wrong, general?"
"It is never wrong to fulfil the wish of a dying man, particularly when
that wish is an honorable one. I may even say that it is a sacred
duty to do so as soon as possible."
"But I shall probably not return to Besançon at once."
"If I try, perhaps I can find some excuse for sending you there."
"Not because you are displeased with, me, general?" asked the boy,
with tears in his eyes.
"No; I will give you some commission which shall prove to your
compatriots that the Jura has still another boy in the service of the
Republic. Now let us see what is going on yonder."
In a few moments Charles forgot his own accident as his eyes
wandered over the battlefield and the town; he held his breath in
the absorbing interest of the sight, and, touching the general on the
arm, pointed to the men running over roofs, jumping out of
windows, and climbing over garden walls in their haste to reach the
plain.
"Good," said Pichegru, "we are masters of the town, and the day is
ours." Then, turning to Lieber, the only one of his officers near him,
he said: "Take command of the reserve and prevent these men from
rallying."
Lieber put himself at the head of the four or five hundred men and
descended upon the village.
"Now," continued Pichegru with his usual calmness, "let us go to the
village and see what is happening."
And accompanied only by twenty-five or thirty chasseurs of the rear-
guard, together with General Boursier and Charles, he set off at a
gallop on the road to Dawendorff.
Charles cast a last glance at the plain; the enemy were fleeing in all
directions. This was the first time that he had seen a battle; he was
now to see a battlefield. He had seen the poetical side—the
movement, the fire, the smoke; but the distance had concealed all
the details. He was now to see the hideous side—the agony, the
immobility of death: he was about to enter upon the bloody reality.
 CHAPTER XXIII
AFTER THE BATTLE
The short distance that the little troop was obliged to cover in order
to reach the plain was entirely bare, except for the wounded, the
dead, and the dying. The fight had lasted barely an hour and a half,
but more than fifteen hundred men lay strewn upon the battlefield.
Charles approached the line of dead with a certain degree of
apprehension; at the first corpse that his horse encountered the
animal shied so violently that the boy was nearly thrown. Pichegru's
horse, held in better check, or perhaps better accustomed to such
scenes, leaped over the obstacles; in time Charles's horse was
forced to follow his example and to leap over the dead.
It was not, however, the dead that made the most impression upon
Charles, but the wounded, who sought to drag themselves from
beneath the hoofs of the horses of the general and his staff, by a
supreme effort, or lay horribly mutilated and muttering, the death-
rattle in their throats: "Comrades, for mercy's sake despatch me!
despatch me!"
Others again, those who were not so grievously wounded, raised
themselves upon their elbows, and, waving their caps, cried: "Long
live the Republic!"
"Is this the first time that you have ever seen a battlefield?" asked
Pichegru.
"No, general," replied the boy.
"Where have you seen one before?"
"In Tacitus—that of Teutberg, with Germanicus and Cecina."
"Ah, yes," replied Pichegru, "I remember: it is when Germanicus,
just before he reaches the forest, finds the eagle of the nineteenth
legion which was lost with Varus."
"And do you remember that passage, general, which I understand so
well now—'All the army were filled with pity as they thought of
relatives, friends, the chances of war, and the destiny of men'?"
"Yes," said Pichegru. "'There were,' said Tacitus, 'in the midst of the
vast clearing, whitening bones scattered where the men had fled,
and lying in heaps where they had fought.' Oh! I wish I could
remember the Latin text, which no translation can equal; wait:
'Medio—'"
"I remember it, general," said Charles; "'Medio campi albentia ossa
ut fugerant, ut resisterant.'"
"Well done, Charles," said Pichegru; "your father made me a fine gift
when he sent you to me!"
"General," asked Charles, "are you not going to send help to these
poor wounded men?"
"Don't you see the surgeons who are going from one to the other,
regardless of whether they are friends or enemies? We have gained
at least this much in eighteen hundred years of civilization; we do
not cut the throats of prisoners upon the altars of Teutates, as in the
time of Armin and Marbod."
"And," said Charles, "the conquered generals are not obliged to kill
themselves like Varus, infelice dextra."
"Do you think," said Pichegru, laughing, "that it is preferable to be
sent to the Revolutionary tribunal like that poor Eisemberg, whose
head is constantly before my eyes and whose words are constantly
in my mind?"
While they were thus talking they had entered the town. Perhaps the
sight was even more terrible there, because the carnage was
confined to a smaller space. The fighting had been carried on from
house to house. Before trying to escape from the roofs and
windows, the Prussians, and particularly a small body of royalists
who had remained in the town, had made a desperate defence.
When their cartridges were exhausted they had seized upon any
weapon that came to hand, and had thrown cupboards, bureaus,
chairs, and even marbles from the mantel down upon their
assailants from the third story windows. Some of the houses were
on fire, and as there was nothing left inside to burn, their ruined
proprietors, judging it useless to stop the conflagration, stood and
watched their possessions burn.
Pichegru gave directions that fires should be put out as soon as
possible, and then he went to the town-hall, where he always chose
to lodge when on a campaign. There he received his reports.
On entering the court he perceived an ammunition wagon, carefully
guarded, bearing the blue coat of arms and the three fleur-de-lis of
France; it had been captured at M. de Condé's lodgings. Thinking it
of importance, it had been brought to the town-hall, where, as we
have said, the general was to lodge.
"Very good," said Pichegru, "I will have the wagon opened in the
presence of the staff."
He dismounted, went upstairs, and took up his quarters in the
council-chamber, where the officers who had taken part in the
engagement arrived one after the other.
The first to come was Captain Gaume. Desiring to take part in the
engagement, he had joined the square formed by General Michaud's
command, and after three charges, as boldly executed as they were
useless, he had seen the Prince de Condé retreat, by a wide circle, in
the direction of Haguenau, leaving about two hundred of his men
upon the field of battle.
General Michaud was providing lodgings for his soldiers, and had
given orders for rations of bread to be cooked and sent to the
neighboring villages from Dawendorff.
Then came Chaumette. In pursuance of the general's orders, he had
taken his twenty-five men and entered the village at the other end,
sounding the charge as boldly as if he had been at the head of six
hundred men. The ruse had succeeded; the Prussians and the small
body of royalists who were defending the town, believing themselves
attacked in front and in the rear at the same time, had fled over the
roofs of the houses, as Charles had pointed out to the general.
The next to arrive was Abatucci. He had received a sword-cut in his
cheek, and his shoulder, moreover, had been dislocated. The general
had noted the splendid courage with which he had charged at the
head of his chasseurs; but when they reached the Prussians, the
encounter had become a hand-to-hand fight and the individuals had
been lost sight of.
Abatucci's horse had been struck by a bullet in the head and had
fallen. While endeavoring to extricate himself, Abatucci had been
struck by a sabre and had his shoulder dislocated. For a moment he
thought himself lost; but a detachment of chasseurs had saved him.
Nevertheless, on foot, in the midst of this terrible disorder, he had
been in the greatest danger, until the chasseur Falou, the one the
general had questioned the previous evening about Eisemberg, had
brought him a horse which he had taken from an officer whom he
had killed. At such times there is little time for words; Abatucci had
grasped the reins with one hand, while with the other he had offered
his purse to the chasseur. The latter refused the officer's gift, and as
he was carried away by the rush of the combat, Abatucci called after
him: "We shall meet again!"
Consequently when he entered the town-hall, Abatucci instituted a
search for the chasseur. The young aide-de-camp's force had killed
about two hundred men and captured one flag, while they
themselves had lost only about eight or ten men.
Macdonald waited until Abatucci had finished his report before
beginning his. At the head of the battalion of the Indre he had borne
the brunt of the battle, receiving at first the fire from the
intrenchments, and then entering the town. We know how he had
been received there. Each house had vomited flames like a volcano;
but in spite of the rain of bullets, which had greatly reduced his
forces, he had continued to advance, until, turning into the principal
street of the town, he had been confronted with two cannon, which
had poured forth grape-shot at a distance of only five hundred feet.
It was then that the battalion of the Indre had had to beat a retreat,
and had fallen back without leaving the town.
True to his promise, Macdonald, after giving his men time to
breathe, had re-entered the town, and, animated by the trumpets
sounding at the other end of the village, his force reached the great
square, intending to capture the two cannon. But the chasseurs had
already taken possession of them.
From that moment the village of Dawendorff was won. Besides the
two cannon, a military wagon, or caisson, as we have said, bearing
the fleur-de-lis of France, had fallen into the hands of the victorious
army.
The general, thinking that it might contain money belonging to the
Prince de Condé, had given orders to have it opened in the presence
of his staff.
Lieber arrived last. Followed by Abatucci's chasseurs, he had
pursued the enemy for more than three miles, and had taken three
hundred prisoners.
The day had been fortunate; they had slain about a thousand of the
enemy, and upward of six hundred had been taken prisoner.
Larrey set Abatucci's dislocated shoulder.
The members of the staff being all present, they went down into the
court and a locksmith was sent for. There was one near at hand, and
he came shortly, bringing his instruments. In a moment the cover
was raised; they found one of the compartments filled with long rolls
like cartridges. They broke one and found that it contained gold.
Each roll contained one hundred guineas—two thousand five
hundred francs, stamped with the effigy of King George. There were
three hundred and ten rolls, making in all seven hundred and
seventy-five thousand francs.
"Faith!" said Pichegru, "this is wonderfully fortunate; we will use it to
pay the soldiers. Are you there, Estève?"
Estève was the paymaster of the Army of the Rhine.
"Have you ascertained how much is due the men?"
"About five hundred thousand francs. I will show you my accounts."
"Take five hundred thousand francs at once, citizen Estève," said
Pichegru, laughing, "and pay the men. You will use the ground floor
for your office. I will take the next story."
The five hundred thousand francs were counted out to citizen
Estève.
"Now," continued Pichegru, "there are twenty-five thousand francs
to be divided among the battalion of the Indre, which has suffered
the most."
"That is about thirty-nine francs for each man," said citizen Estève.
"You will keep fifty thousand francs for the need of the army."
"And the remaining two hundred thousand francs?"
"Abatucci shall carry them to the Convention, with the flag we have
captured; it is well to show the world that Republicans do not fight
for money. Let us go upstairs, citizens," continued Pichegru, "and
leave citizen Estève to his work."
 CHAPTER XXIV
CITIZEN FENOUILLOT, COMMERCIAL
TRAVELLER FOR CHAMPAGNE
Pichegru's valet de chambre, who had the good sense not to change
his title for that of an official, and his name of Leblanc for that of
Lerouge, had, in the meantime, set the table for breakfast, and
covered it with the provisions which he had brought with him—a
necessary precaution when, as now, they passed from the battlefield
to the breakfast table.
Our young men, wearied, hungry, some of them even wounded,
were not insensible to the prospect of breakfast, of which they felt
the greatest need. But the cheers of satisfaction redoubled when
they saw among a number of bottles, whose simplicity denoted their
democratic origin, six others with silver collars, showing that they
belonged to the best houses of Champagne.
Pichegru himself noticed it, and, turning to his valet, said with
military freedom: "Ah, Leblanc, is it my birthday or yours? Or is it
simply to celebrate our victory of to-day that we find such wine upon
my table? Do you know that I should get my throat cut for this if it
were reported to the Committee of Public Safety?"
"Citizen general," replied the valet, "those are not the reasons,
although, for that matter, your victory deserves to be celebrated;
and on a day when you have taken seven hundred and fifty
thousand francs you may well drink twenty francs' worth of
champagne without wronging the government. No, general, do not
let your conscience trouble you; the champagne which you will drink
to-day will cost neither you nor the government a penny."
"I hope, rascal," said Pichegru, laughing, "that it has not been stolen
from some wine merchant, or pillaged from some cellar?"
"No, general, it was a patriotic gift."
"A patriotic gift?"
"Yes, from citizen Fenouillot."
"Who is citizen Fenouillot? Is that the lawyer at Besançon; for there
is such a lawyer at Besançon, is there not, Charles?"
"Yes," replied the boy, "he is one of my father's best friends."
"He has nothing to do with lawyers, or with Besançon either for that
matter," said Leblanc, who was permitted to speak freely with the
general; "he is citizen Fenouillot, commercial traveller for the house
of Fraissinet of Châlons, who, in gratitude for the service you have
done him in delivering him out of the hands of the enemy, has sent
you these six bottles of wine, so that you may drink them to your
own health and to that of the Republic."
"Then your citizen Fenouillot was here with the enemy?"
"Certainly, since he was a prisoner, he and his samples."
"Do you hear, general?" asked Abatucci.
"Perhaps he might be able to give us some useful information,"
suggested Doumerc.
"Where does your citizen live?" asked Pichegru.
"Here, in the hotel to the left of the town-hall."
"Put on an extra plate—there, just opposite mine—and then go tell
citizen Fenouillot that I request the pleasure of his company at
breakfast with us. Gentlemen, take your customary places while we
are waiting."
The officers seated themselves as usual, and Pichegru put Charles at
his left.
Leblanc put on the extra plate and then went out.
Five minutes later he returned. He had found citizen Fenouillot just
about to sit down to breakfast, but he had eagerly accepted the
general's invitation. Consequently, he was following the messenger
who had been sent for him; and, in fact, a moment after Leblanc
had returned, some one knocked at the door, giving the Masonic
raps.
Leblanc hastened to open it.
A man about thirty-five years of age stood upon the threshold,
attired in the civilian's dress of that period—a pointed, broad-
brimmed hat, a loose cravat, and a waistcoat with large lapels. He
had on a brown coat with long skirts, tight, light-colored trousers
and top boots; his complexion was fair and his hair curled naturally;
he had brown eyebrows and whiskers, the latter half-hidden in his
cravat. His eyes were bold, his nose was large and his lips were thin.
As he entered the dining-room, Fenouillot hesitated slightly.
"Come in, citizen Fenouillot," said Pichegru, who had seen the
hesitation, slight as it was.
"Upon my word," said the latter easily, "the thing was of so little
consequence that I hesitated to believe that your kind invitation was
intended for me."
"What of little consequence? Do you know that, with my allowance
of five hundred francs a day, I should have to go three days without
eating in order to afford fare like this? So sit down opposite me,
citizen. Take your place!"
The two officers who were appointed to sit beside him moved their
chairs and pointed to his. Citizen Fenouillot sat down, and the
general cast a rapid glance at his snow-white linen and his carefully
kept hands.
"And you were a prisoner when we entered Dawendorff?"
"About that, general. I did not know the road to Haguenau was
invested until I was stopped by some Prussians, who were preparing
to drink my samples when, happily, an officer arrived who took me
to the commander-in-chief. I thought I had nothing more to fear
than the loss of my samples, and was already consoling myself with
that notion when the word 'spy' fell upon my ears. At that, as you
can readily understand, I began to think, and then I asked to be
taken to the commander of the royalists."
"The Prince de Condé?"
"I would have asked for the devil himself, as you can well imagine!
They took me to the Prince, who examined my papers, and as I
answered all his questions frankly, and he saw, after tasting my
wine, that it was not of a kind that a dishonest man would carry, he
told his allies, the Prussians, that I was a Frenchman, and that he
would detain me as his prisoner."
"And was your detention hard?" asked Abatucci, while Pichegru
regarded his guest with a scrutiny that showed he was rather
inclined to share the Prussian general's opinion.
"Not at all," replied citizen Fenouillot; "the Prince and his son liked
my wine, and they treated me with a consideration almost equal to
that which you have shown me, although I must confess that when
the news of the capitulation of Toulon arrived, yesterday, and I, as a
good Frenchman, could not conceal my delight, the Prince, with
whom I was talking at the time, dismissed me in a very bad humor."
"Ah, ha!" exclaimed Pichegru; "then Toulon has really been
recaptured from the English?"
"Yes, general."
"What day was Toulon taken?"
"The 19th."
"And to-day is the 21st. Impossible! The devil! the Prince de Condé
has not the telegraph at his disposal."
"No," replied the other; "but he has the pigeon-post, and carrier-
pigeons travel forty-eight miles an hour. In short, the news came to
Strasbourg, where pigeons abound, and I myself saw the little note
in the Prince's hands. The note was small, having been fastened
under the bird's wing, but the writing was fine, and therefore it
contained several details."
"And do you know what they were?"
"The city capitulated on the 19th. That same day part of the
besieging army entered, and, in the evening, by order of the
commissioner of the Convention, two hundred and thirteen persons
were shot."
"Is that all? Did it not mention a certain Buonaparte?"
"Yes, indeed; it said that the capture of the city was due to him."
"He is certainly my cousin," said Abatucci, laughing.
"And my pupil," added Pichegru. "Faith, so much the better! The
Republic needs men of genius to offset such wretches as Fouché."
"Fouché?"
"Was it not Fouché who followed the French army to Lyons, and on
the first day he was in power ordered two hundred and thirteen men
shot?"
"Ah, yes; but that was at Lyons. At Toulon it is citizen Barras."
"And who is citizen Barras?"
"Only a deputy from the Var, who has served in India, and learned
there to imitate the habits of the Nabobs. At the Convention he sits
with the Mountain. At all events; it looks as if they were going to
shoot all the population, and raze the town."
"Let them destroy and shoot! The sooner they do it, the quicker they
will get through," said Pichegru. "Faith! I prefer our former good God
to the modern Supreme Being who permits such horrors."
"And what do they say of my cousin Buonaparte?"
"They say that he is a young artillery officer," continued citizen
Fenouillot, "and a friend of young Robespierre."
"Come, general," said Abatucci, "if he is on such good terms with the
Jacobins as that, he will make his way and protect us in the
bargain."
"Speaking of protection," said citizen Fenouillot, "is what the Duc de
Bourbon told me when he was eulogizing you true?"
"Very kind of the Duc de Bourbon," said Pichegru, laughing. "What
did he tell you?"
"That it was his father, the Prince de Condé, to whom you owed your
first promotion."
"Yes," replied Pichegru.
"How was that?" asked three or four voices.
"I was serving as a common soldier in the royal artillery, when one
day the Prince de Condé, who was present at the battery exercises
at Besançon, came over to the gun which he considered the best
managed; but while the gunner was sponging the piece it went off
and shot away his arm. The prince attributed this accident to me,
accusing me of not having properly closed the orifice with my
thumb. I let him talk, and my only reply was to show him my
bleeding hand. My thumb was turned back, and almost torn from the
hand. Here," he continued, holding out his hand; "here is the scar.
The prince forthwith promoted me to the rank of sergeant."
Little Charles, who was near the general, took his hand as if he
wanted to examine it, and with a sudden movement stooped and
kissed it.
"Why, what are you doing?" asked Pichegru, pulling his hand away
quickly.
"I? Nothing," said Charles. "I admire you."
 CHAPTER XXV
CHASSEUR FALOU AND CORPORAL FARAUD
Just then the door opened, and the chasseur Falou appeared, led by
two of his comrades.
"Your pardon, captain," said one of the soldiers to Abatucci; "but you
said you wanted to see him, did you not?"
"Of course I want to see him."
"There, is it true?" asked the soldier.
"It must be so, as the captain says it is."
"Just imagine, he did not want to come; we had to drag him here by
main force."
"Why didn't you want to come?" asked Abatucci.
"Oh! I thought it was just to say silly things to me."
"What do you mean?"
"See here, general; I will make you the judge."
"I am listening to you, Falou."
"Why, you know my name!" Then, turning to his comrades, he cried,
"Say, the general knows my name."
"I have said that I am listening to you; what is it you wish to say?"
asked the general.
"Well, general, this is how it happened; we were charging, weren't
we?'
"Yes."
"My horse shied to avoid stepping on a wounded man—you know
those animals are so intelligent."
"Yes, I know."
"And mine especially. I found myself face to face with one of those
emigrated nobles. Ah! he was a fine young fellow, not more than
twenty-two at the most. When he aimed a blow at my head I had to
defend myself—"
"Certainly."
"And to return the blow; there was no other way, was there?"
"No, of course not."
"One doesn't need to be a provost to know that! He fell. He had
swallowed more than six inches of steel."
"That was certainly more than he needed."
"Yes, general," said Falou, laughing at the joke he had in mind to
say, "but one can't always stop to measure."
"I was not blaming you, Falou."
"Well, then, he fell, and there was a magnificent horse without a
rider. I took him by the bridle, and just then I saw the captain, who
had no horse at all, and so I said to myself: 'This horse belongs to
the captain.' I put spurs to him, and he struggled like the devil in
holy water in the midst of five or six aristocrats. I killed one and
wounded another. 'Come, captain!' I called out to him, 'put your foot
in the stirrup.' When his foot was in the stirrup it did not take him
long to mount, and that's all there is to it."
"No, that is not all; for you cannot make me a present of a horse."
"Why can't I make you a present of a horse? Are you too proud to
take it from me?"
"No; and to prove it, my brave fellow, will you do me the honor to
put your hand there."
"The honor will be mine, captain," said Falou, advancing toward
Abatucci.
The officer and the soldier clasped hands.
"Now I am paid, and I even owe you something; but no money,
captain," said Falou.
"Very well; you have exposed your life for me, and—"
"Exposed my life for you?" cried Falou. "I defended it, that was all.
Would you like to see how the aristocrat went? Here!"
Falou drew out his sword and showed the blade, of which an inch
and a half was broken off.
"You can see that my hand was not weak; but we are well cared for,
captain, and I shall get another sword. But sell you a horse—I,
Falou? Never! Never!"
And Falou had already reached the door, when the general spoke to
him.
"Come here, my brave fellow."
Falou turned around, trembling with emotion, and saluted.
"You are a Franc-Comtois?"
"A little, general."
"From what part?"
"Boussière."
"Are your parents still living?"
"I have an old mother. Can I call that parents?"
"Yes. And what does your old mother do?"
"Oh! poor dear woman, she knits my socks and spins my shirts."
"And how does she support herself?"
"With what I send her. But as the Republic is in debt, and my pay is
five months in arrears, she cannot be getting along very well. But,
thanks to the Prince de Condé's treasure wagon, we shall be paid
up. Noble prince, how my mother will bless him!"
"What, your mother will bless an enemy of France?"
"How will she know the difference? The good God will know that she
is in her dotage."
"Then you are going to send her your pay?"
"Oh! I shall keep a bit for a drop of wine."
"Keep it all."
"And the old woman?"
"I will take care of her."
"General," said Falou, shaking his head, "I don't understand."
"Let me see your sword."
Falou unbuckled his sword and handed it to the general.
"Oh!" said Falou, "it's in a sorry condition."
"In other words," said the general, drawing his from its scabbard, "it
is not fit for use. Take mine." And Pichegru, unbuckling his own
sword, gave it to him.
"But, general, what shall I do with your sword?"
"You will defend yourself, and return blow for blow."
"I should never dare to use it."
"Then you will let it be taken from you."
"I! I will defend it with my life." Then, putting the hilt of the sword
to his lips, he kissed it.
"That will do. When the sword of honor that I have sent for comes,
you can return me this one."
"Oh!" said Falou, "if it is all the same to you, general, I would rather
keep this one."
"Well, then, keep it, animal; and do not put on so many airs."
"Oh! comrades!" cried Falou, darting out of the room, "the general
called me animal, and gave me his sword! Long live the Republic!"
"Very fine," said a voice in the corridor; "but that is no reason for
overturning your friends, particularly when they come as
ambassadors to the general."
"What is the meaning of that?" said Pichegru. "Go see, Charles, and
receive these ambassadors."
Charles, delighted to have an active share in the proceedings, darted
to the door, and returned in a moment, saying: "General, they are
delegates from the regiment of the Indre, who have come in the
name of their comrades, with Corporal Faraud at their head."
"Who is Corporal Faraud?"
"The man of the wolves last night."
"But last night he was a common soldier."
"And now, general, he is a corporal; to be sure his stripes are made
of paper."
"Paper stripes?" said the general, frowning.
"Oh! I don't know," said Charles.
"Admit the citizen delegates of the regiment of the Indre."
Two soldiers entered behind Faraud, who proudly displayed the
paper stripes on his sleeves.
"What does this mean?" asked Pichegru.
"General," replied Faraud, carrying his hand to his cap, "we are
delegates from the regiment of the Indre."
"Ah, yes," said Pichegru, "who have come to thank me for the favor
I have just done them."
"On the contrary, general, we have come to refuse."
"To refuse? and why?" asked Pichegru.
"Confound it, general," said Faraud, with a twist of the neck peculiar
to himself, "they say they fight for the glory of the Republic, for the
preservation of the rights of man, and for nothing else. As for what
they have done, they say it is no more than what their comrades
have done, and they deserve no greater reward than the others.
They have heard that they have only to go to citizen Estève to
receive their back pay. If this incredible news is true, then that is all
they want." And Faraud ended with the same peculiar twist of the
neck by means of which he expressed all his emotions, whether sad
or gay.
"Then they refuse?" asked Pichegru.
"Flatly," replied Faraud.
"And the dead," asked Pichegru; "do they refuse?"
"Who?"
"The dead."
"They have not been consulted, general."
"Then you may say to your comrades that I never take back what I
have once given; the bounty money that I gave to the living will be
distributed among the fathers and mothers, the brothers and sisters,
the sons and daughters of the dead. Have you any objections to
make to that?"
"None, general."
"That is fortunate. And now come here."
"I, general?" asked Faraud with a twist of the neck.
"Yes, you."
"Here I am, general."
"What are those sardines there?" asked Pichegru.
"Those are my corporal's stripes."
"Why paper?"
"Because we had no woollen stuff."
"Who made you a corporal?"
"My captain."
"What is your captain's name?"
"René Savary."
"I know him; he is a lad of nineteen or twenty."
"But who can strike hard just the same, general."
"Why did he make you a corporal?"
"You know well enough," said Faraud, with his customary gesture.
"Why no, I do not."
"You told me to make two prisoners."
"Well?"
"I made them; two Prussians."
"Is that true?"
"You can read it on my stripes"; and he raised his arm so that
Pichegru could read the two lines of writing on them. He read:

Fusileer Faraud, of the Second Battalion of the Indre, has taken

two Prussians prisoner; by reason of which I have appointed
him corporal, subject to the approval of the commander-in-chief.
René Savary.

"I really took three prisoners," said Faraud, coming closer to the
general.
"Where is the third?"
"The third was a fine young man, an aristocrat. You would have had
to shoot him, which would have pained you, or to spare him, which
would have compromised you."
"Well? and so—"
"And so, I let him—I let him go; there!"
"Good," said Pichegru, with tears in his eyes, "I make you a
sergeant."
 CHAPTER XXVI
THE PRINCE'S ENVOY
The chasseur Falou and the corporal Faraud have not, I hope, made
you forget the citizen Fenouillot, commercial traveller for the house
of Fraissinet at Châlons, nor the six bottles of champagne which he
in his gratitude offered to Pichegru.
There was still one of these bottles to empty when the general
returned to his place at table. Citizen Fenouillot opened it, or rather
tried to do so, but in so unskilful a manner that Pichegru smiled and
took the bottle from his hand; then cutting the cords, he opened the
wires with the thumb of his left hand, which had retained all its
strength.
"Come, citizen," said he, "a last glass to the prosperity of the arms
of the Republic."
The commercial traveller raised his glass higher than any of the
others.
"And," he added, "may the general finish gloriously what he has
already gloriously begun."
All the officers joined noisily in the proposed toast.
"And now," said Pichegru, "as I agree with the toast which the
citizen has just proposed, we have not an instant to lose. To-day's
fight is but the prelude to two more serious battles; for we must win
two more in order to regain the lines of Weissembourg, which were
lost by my predecessor. The day after to-morrow we will attack
Froeschwiller; in four days the line, in five we shall be at
Weissembourg, and in six we shall have relieved Landau." Then,
addressing Macdonald, he said: "My dear colonel, you are, as you
know, my right hand. I intrust to you the duty of visiting all the
posts, and of telling each corps which one it is to occupy. You are to
command the left wing, and Abatucci the right; I will be in the
centre. See that the soldiers want for nothing. No superfluities, but
they must have a little more than the necessaries." Then he said to
the other officers: "You all know the regiments under your
command, citizens; you know those on whom you can depend. Call
their officers together and tell them that I am writing to-day to the
Committee of Public Safety that we shall sleep at Froeschwiller the
day after to-morrow. Also that in eight days at the latest we shall be
at Landau; and let them remember one thing, that if that promise is
broken, my head will pay the forfeit."
The officers rose, and, buckling on their swords, they prepared to
leave the room to execute the orders they had received.
"As for you, Charles," continued Pichegru, "go into the room which
has been made ready for us, and see if the mattresses are in their
proper places. You will find on a chair a little package addressed to
you; open it, and, if the contents pleases you, use it at once, for it
belongs to you. If you feel any pain from the concussion you have
received, tell me of it, and not the surgeon."
"Thanks, general," answered Charles; "but I do not need any other
compresses there than the one which stopped the bullet. As for the
bullet itself," continued the boy, taking it from his pocket, "I shall
keep it to give to my father."
"And you can roll it in the certificate that I shall write for you. And
now, my boy, go."
Charles went out. Pichegru glanced at citizen Fenouillot, who was
still sitting in his place, went to the doors that gave access to the
dining-room, bolted them, and then returned to his place opposite
his guest, who had watched his movements with the utmost
astonishment.
"There," said he, "now we are alone, citizen."
"Alone, general?" asked the commercial traveller.
"Let us play above-board."
"I ask nothing better."
"Your name is not Fenouillot, you are not related to the lawyer at
Besançon, you were not the Prince de Condé's prisoner, you are his
agent."
"That is true, general."
"And you remained by his order to make me some proposals from
the royalists at the risk of being shot."
"That is also true."
"But you said to yourself, 'General Pichegru is brave and he will
understand that it requires a certain degree of courage to do what I
am doing; perhaps he will not shoot me, though he may refuse; and
then he will send me back to the prince with his refusal.'"
"That is also true; but I hope that after having heard me—"
"After having heard you there is just one case in which I shall have
you shot; of that I warn you."
"What is that?"
"If you should put a price on my treason."
"Or your devotion."
"We will not discuss the words, but the thing. Are you disposed to
answer all my questions?"
"I am, general."
"I am going to cross-examine you, I warn you."
"Go on."
Pichegru drew his pistols from his belt and laid one on either side of
his plate.
"General," said the pretended clerk, laughing, "I hope those are not
your cards that you are laying on the table."
"Have the goodness to put my pistols on the mantel-shelf, since you
are nearer to it than I am," replied Pichegru, "they are not
comfortable in my belt." And he pushed his pistols within the other's
reach, who carried them to the mantel-shelf and returned to his
seat.
Pichegru bowed slightly and the other did the same.
"Now," said Pichegru, "let us begin."
"I am waiting."
"What is your name?"
"Fauche-Borel."
"Where do you come from?"
"Neuchâtel. Only my name might have been Fenouillot, and I might
have come from Besançon, since I belong to a Franche-Comté family
which did not leave until after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes."
"In that case I should have recognized you for a fellow-countryman
by the accent."
"Excuse me, general, but how did you know that I was not a
commercial traveller for champagne."
"By the way you opened the bottles. Citizen, another time choose
another character."
"What one, for instance?"
"A bookseller."
"You know me, then?"
"I have heard of you."
"In what way?"
"As an uncompromising enemy of the Republic, and the author of
royalist pamphlets. Excuse me if I continue to question you."
"Continue, general; I am at your service."
"How did you become an agent for the Prince de Condé."
"My name first attracted the attention of the Regent[3] in a royalist
pamphlet of M. d'Antragues, entitled 'Memoirs of the Regency of
Louis Stanislas Xavier, son of France, uncle of the King, and Regent
of France.' He noticed it a second time when I induced the
inhabitants of Neuchâtel to sign the Act of Union."
[3] A title which Louis XVIII. bore while Louis XVII. lived.
"And I know that from that time your house became the resort of
the emigrants and the hotbed of the anti-revolutionists."
"The Prince de Condé knew it also and sent a certain Montgaillard to
know if I would join him."
"Do you know that Montgaillard is an intriguer?" asked Pichegru.
"I fear so," replied Fauche-Borel.
"He serves the king under two names—Roques and Pinard."
"You are well informed, general; but M. de Montgaillard and I have
nothing in common except that we both serve the same prince."
"Let us return to him then. You were just saying that he sent M. de
Montgaillard to know if you would join him."
"Yes; he told me that the prince had his headquarters at
Dawendorff, and would receive me with pleasure. I started at once. I
went first to Weissembourg, to throw your spies off the scent by
making them think that I was going to Bavaria. I then went down
toward Haguenau, and from there I reached Dawendorff."
"How many days have you been here?"
"Two."
"And how did the prince broach the subject to you?"
"In the simplest manner possible, the Chevalier de Contyre
presented me to him. 'M. de Fauche-Borel,' he said. The prince rose
and came toward me.—You wish me to repeat his exact words, do
you not, general?"
"Yes."
"'My dear Monsieur Fauche,' he said to me, 'I know you through all
my companions in arms, who have told me over and over of your
hospitality to them. I have therefore wished for some time to see
you, and to offer you a mission that would be as advantageous as it
is honorable. I have recognized for a long time that I cannot depend
on foreigners. The reinstatement of our family upon the throne is
not an end but a pretext; foreigners are foreigners, and will do
everything for their own interests and nothing for the interests of
France. No, it is from within that we must bring about the
restoration; and,' he continued, laying his hand upon my arm, 'I
have chosen you to carry the king's message to General Pichegru.
The Convention, in ordering the union of the armies of the Rhine
and the Moselle, have placed him under Hoche. He will be furious at
this. Profit by this moment to persuade him to serve the cause of the
monarchy, by making him understand that the Republic is nothing
but a chimera.'"
Pichegru listened to all this with the greatest calmness, and when it
was finished, he smiled. Fauche-Borel had expected some kind of
answer, and had purposely introduced this mention of Hoche at the
end; but as we have seen, Pichegru only replied to this part of the
speech by his most benevolent smile.
"Go on," he said.
Fauche-Borel continued:
"It was in vain that I told the prince how unworthy I felt myself of
this honor; and that I had no other ambition than to serve him as an
active and zealous man. He only shook his head and said: 'M.
Fauche, you or no one.' And putting his hand upon my heart, he
added: 'You have there what will make the best sort of diplomat for
this mission.' If I had not been a royalist I would have resisted, and
would in all probability have found excellent reasons for my refusal.
But being a royalist, I was desirous of serving the royal cause in any
way whatsoever, and so I yielded. I have told you how I went to
Weissembourg, from there to Haguenau, and from there to
Dawendorff; I had only to go from there to Auenheim, your
headquarters; but this morning your advance-guard was signalled.
'Pichegru spares us the trouble of going to him,' said the prince. 'It is
a good omen.' Then it was agreed that if you were defeated I was to
go to you, and you know the destiny which the Convention reserves
for its defeated generals. If you were victorious, I was to wait for
you, and with the help of the little scheme of which you already
know, I was to gain access to you. You have conquered, and have
discovered the ruse; I am at your mercy, general, and shall only
offer one excuse for my conduct—my profound conviction that I
acted for the best interests of France, and my intense desire to
spare the shedding of blood. I await with confidence the decision of
your justice."
Fauche-Borel rose, bowed, and seated himself again, as calm, at
least to all appearances, as if he had just proposed a toast at a
patriotic banquet.
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