Arthur O'Leary Part 22

You’re reading novel Arthur O'Leary Part 22 online at LightNovelFree.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit LightNovelFree.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy!

Soon after my Polish adventure--I scarcely like to be more particular in my designation of it--I received a small remittance from England, and started for Namur. My Uncle Toby's recollections had been an inducement for the journey, had I not the more pleasant one in my wish to see the Meuse, of whose scenery I had already heard so much.

The season was a delightful one--the beginning of autumn; and truly the country far surpa.s.sed all my antic.i.p.ations. The road to Dinant led along by the river, the clear stream rippling at one side; at the other, the ma.s.sive granite rocks, rising to several hundred feet, frowned above you; some gnarled oak or hardy ash, clung to the steep cliffs, and hung their drooping leaves above your head. On the opposite bank of the river, meadows of emerald green, intersected with ash rows and tall poplars, stretched away to the background of dense forest that bounded the view to the very horizon. Here and there a little farmhouse, framed in wood and painted in many a gaudy colour, would peep from the little inclosure of vines and plum-trees; more rarely still, the pointed roof and turreted gable of a venerable chateau would rise above the trees.

How often did I stop to gaze on these quaint old edifices, with their bal.u.s.trades and terraces, on which a solitary peac.o.c.k walked proudly to and fro--the only sound that stirred being the hissing plash of the _jet d' eau_, whose sparkling drops came pattering on the broad water-lilies.

And as I looked, I wondered within myself what kind of life they led who dwelt there. The windows were open to the ground, bouquets of rich flowers stood on the little tables. These were all signs of habitation, yet no one moved about, no stir or bustle denoted that there were dwellers within. How different from the country life of our great houses in England, with trains of servants and equipages hurrying hither and thither--all the wealth and magnificence of the great capital transported to some far-off county, that ennui and fastidiousness, fatigue, and la.s.situde, should lose none of their habitual aids! Well, for _my_ part, the life among green trees and flowers, where the thrush sings, and the bee goes humming by, can scarcely be too homely for _my_ taste. It is in the peaceful aspect of all Nature, the sense of calm that breathes from every leafy grove and rippling stream, that I feel the soothing influence of the country. I could sit beside the trickling stream of water, clear but brown, that comes drop by drop from some fissure in the rocky cliff and falls into the little well below, and dream away for hours. These slight and simple sounds that break the silence of the calm air are all fraught with pleasant thoughts; the unbroken stillness of a prairie is the most awful thing in all Nature.

Unoppressed in heart, I took my way along the river's bank, my mind revolving the quiet, pleasant thoughts that silence and lovely scenery are so sure to suggest. Towards noon I sat myself down on a large flat rock beside the stream, and proceeded to make my humble breakfast--some bread and a few cresses, washed down with a little water scarce flavoured with brandy, followed by my pipe; and I lay watching the white bubbles that flowed by me, until I began to fancy I could read a moral lesson in their course. Here was a great swollen fellow, rotund and full, elbowing out of his way all his lesser brethren, jostling and pus.h.i.+ng aside each he met with; but at last bursting from very plethora, and disappearing as though he had never been. There were a myriad of little bead-like specks, floating past noiselessly, and yet having their own goal and destination; some uniting with others, grew stronger and hardier, and braved the current with bolder fortune, while others vanished ere you could see them well. A low murmuring plash against the reeds beneath the rock drew my attention to the place, and I perceived that a little boat, like a canoe, was fastened by a hay-rope to the bank, and surged with each motion of the stream against the weeds. I looked about to see the owner, but no one could I detect; not a living thing seemed near, nor even a habitation of any kind. The sun at that moment shone strongly out, lighting up all the rich landscape on the opposite side of the river, and throwing long gleams into a dense beech-wood, where a dark, gra.s.s-grown alley entered. Suddenly the desire seized me to enter the forest by that shady path. I strapped on my knapsack at once, and stepped into the little boat. There was neither oar nor paddle, but as the river was shallow, my long staff served as a pole to drive her across, and I reached the sh.o.r.e safely. Fastening the craft securely to a branch, I set forward towards the wood. As I approached, a little board nailed to a tree drew my eye towards it, and I read the nearly-effaced inscription, 'Route des Ardennes.' What a thrill did not these words send through my heart! And was this, indeed, the forest of which Shakespeare told us? Was I really 'under the greenwood tree,' where fair Rosalind had rested, and where melancholy Jaques had mused and mourned? And as I walked along, how instinct with his spirit did each spot appear! There was the oak--

'Whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along the wood.'

A little farther on I came upon--

'The bank of osiers by the murmuring stream.'

What a bright prerogative has genius, that thus can people s.p.a.ce with images which time and years erase not, making to the solitary traveller a world of bright thoughts even in the darkness of a lonely wood! And so to me appeared, as though before me, the scenes he pictured. Each rustling breeze that shook the leafy shade seemed like the impetuous pa.s.sion of the devoted lover; the chirping notes of the wood-pigeon, like the flippant raillery of beauteous Rosalind; and in the low ripple of the brook I heard the complaining sounds of Jaques himself.

Sunk in such pleasant fancies I lay beneath a spreading sycamore, and with half-closed lids invoked the shades of that delightful vision before me, when the tramp of feet, moving across the low brushwood, suddenly aroused me. I started up on one knee, and listened. The next moment three men emerged from the wood into the path. The two foremost, dressed in blouses, were armed with carbines and a sabre; the last carried a huge sack on his shoulders, and seemed to move with considerable difficulty.

'_Ventre du diable!_' cried he pa.s.sionately, as he placed his burden on the ground; 'don't hasten on this way; they'll never follow us so far, and I am half dead with fatigue.'

'Come, come, Gros Jean,' said one of the others, in a voice of command, 'we must not halt before we reach the three elms.'

'Why not bury it here?' replied the first speaker, 'or else take your share of the labour?'

'So I would,' retorted the other violently, 'if you could take my place when we are attacked; but, _parbleu!_ you are more given to running away than fighting.'

During this brief colloquy my heart rose to my mouth. The ruffianly looks of the party, their arms, their savage demeanour, and their secret purpose, whatever it was, to which I was now to a certain extent privy, filled me with terror, and I made an effort to draw myself back on my hands into the brushwood beneath the tree. The motion unfortunately discovered me; and with a spring, the two armed fellows bounded towards me, and levelled their pistols at my head.

'Who are you? What brings you here?' shouted they both in a breath.

'For heaven's sake, messieurs,' said I, 'down with your pistols! I am only a traveller, a poor inoffensive wanderer, an Englishman--an Irishman, rather, a good Catholic'--Heaven forgive me if I meant an equivocation here!--'lower the pistols, I beseech you.'

'Shoot him through the skull; he's a spy!' roared the fellow with the sack.

'Not a bit of it,' said I; 'I'm a mere traveller, admiring the country, and an----'

'And why have you tracked us out here?' said one of the first speakers.

'I did not; I was here before you came. Do put down the pistols, for the love of Mary! there's no guarding against accidents, even with the most cautious.'

'Blow his brains out!' reiterated he of the bag, louder than before.

'Don't, messieurs, don't mind _him_; he's a coward! You are brave men, and have nothing to fear from a poor devil like me.'

The two armed fellows laughed heartily at this speech, while the other, throwing the sack from him, rushed at me with clenched hands.

'Hold off, Gros Jean,' said one of his companions; 'if he never tells a heavier lie than that, he may make an easy confession on Sunday'; and with that he pushed him rudely back, and stood between us. 'Come, then,'

cried he, 'take up that sack and follow us.'

My blood curdled at the order; there was something fearful in the very look of the long bag as it lay on the ground. I thought I could actually trace the outline of a human figure. Heaven preserve me, I believed I saw it move!

'Take it up,' cried he sternly; 'there's no fear of its biting you.'

'Ah,' said I to myself, 'the poor fellow is dead, then.' Without more ado they placed the bag on my shoulders, and ordered me to move forward.

I grew pale and sick, and tottered at each step.

'Is it the smell affects you?' said one, with a demoniac sneer.

'Pardon, messieurs,' said I, endeavouring to pluck up courage, and seem at ease; 'I never carried a--a thing like this before.'

'Step out briskly,' cried he; 'you 've a long way before you'; and with that he moved to the front, while the others brought up the rear.

As we proceeded on our way, they informed me that if by any accident they should be overtaken by any of my friends or a.s.sociates, meaning thereby any of the human race that should chance to walk that way, the first thing they would do would be to shoot me dead--a circ.u.mstance that considerably damped all my ardour for a rescue, and made me tremble lest at any turn of the way some f.a.ggot-gatherer might appear in sight.

Meanwhile, never did a man labour more strenuously to win the favour of his company.

I began by protesting my extreme innocence; vowed that a man of more estimable and amiable qualities than myself never did nor never would exist. To this declaration they listened with manifest impatience, if not with actual displeasure. I then tried another tack. I abused the rich and commended the poor; I harangued in round terms on the grabbing monopoly of the great, who enjoyed all the good things of this life, and would share none with their neighbours; I even hinted a sly encomium on those public-spirited individuals whose gallantry and sense of justice led them to risk their lives in endeavours to equalise somewhat more fairly this world's wealth, and who were so ungenerously styled robbers and highwaymen, though they were in reality benefactors and heroes. But they only laughed at this; nor did they show any real sympathy with my opinions till in my general attack on all const.i.tuted authorities--kings, priests, statesmen, judges, and gendarmes--by chance I included revenue-officers. The phrase seemed like a spark on gunpowder.

'Curses be on the wretches! they are the plague-spots of the world,'

cried I, seeing how they caught at the bait; 'and thrice honoured the brave fellows who would relieve suffering humanity from the burden of such odious oppression.'

A low whispering now took place among my escort, and at length he who seemed the leader stopped me short, and placing his hand on my shoulder, cried out--

'Are you sincere in all this? Are these your notions?'

'Can you doubt me?' said I. 'What reasons have I for speaking them? How do I know but you are revenue-officers that listen to me?'

'Enough, you shall join us. We are going to pa.s.s this sack of cigars.'

'Ho! these are cigars, then,' said I, brightening up. 'It is not a--a--eh?'

'They are Dutch cigars, and the best that can be made,' said he, not minding my interruption. 'We shall pa.s.s them over the frontier by Sedan to-morrow night, and then we return to Dinant, where you shall come with us.'

'Agreed!' said I, while a faint chill ran through my limbs, and I could scarcely stand--images of galley life, irons with cannon-shot, and a yellow uniform all flitting before me. From this moment they became extremely communicative, detailing for my amus.e.m.e.nt many pleasing incidents of their blameless life--how they burned a custom-house here, and shot an inspector there--and in fact displaying the advantages of my new profession, with all its attractions, before me. How I grinned with mock delight at atrocities that made my blood curdle, and chuckled over the roasting of a revenue-officer as though he had been a chestnut! I affected to see drollery in cruelties that deserved the gallows, and laughed till the tears came at horrors that nearly made me faint. My concurrence and sympathy absolutely delighted the devils, and we shook hands a dozen times over.

It was evening, when, tired and ready to drop with fatigue, my companions called a halt.

'Come, my friend,' said the chief, 'we'll relieve you now of your burden. You would be of little service to us at the frontier, and must wait for us here till our return.'

It was impossible to make any proposal more agreeable to my feelings.

The very thought of being quit of my friends was ecstasy. I did not dare, however, to vent my raptures openly, but satisfied myself with a simple acquiescence.

'And when,' said I, 'am I to have the pleasure of seeing you again, gentlemen?'

'By to-morrow forenoon at farthest.'

By that time, thought I, I shall have made good use of my legs, please Heaven!

'Meanwhile,' said Gros Jean, with a grin that showed he had neither forgotten nor forgiven my insults to his courage--'meanwhile we'll just beg leave to fasten you to this tree'; and with the words, he pulled from a great canvas pocket he wore at his belt a hank of strong cord, and proceeded to make a slip noose on it.

Arthur O'Leary Part 22

You're reading novel Arthur O'Leary Part 22 online at LightNovelFree.com. You can use the follow function to bookmark your favorite novel ( Only for registered users ). If you find any errors ( broken links, can't load photos, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. And when you start a conversation or debate about a certain topic with other people, please do not offend them just because you don't like their opinions.


Arthur O'Leary Part 22 summary

You're reading Arthur O'Leary Part 22. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Charles James Lever already has 686 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

LightNovelFree.com is a most smartest website for reading novel online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to LightNovelFree.com