The Sword of Honor Part 55

To which the innkeeper, multiplying his manifestations of distress, replied in an agonizing jargon.

"But, Gott's t'under, ve vant vine! Ve temant vine of you!" retorted Castillon impatiently, a.s.suming a German patois in the hope of making himself understood.

It was Captain Martin who cut the gordian knot and ended the already too-long debate. Hastily outlining in his sketch-book a bottle and a gla.s.s, he waved the drawing under mine host's eyes together with an a.s.signat[14] which he drew from his pocket. The Alsatian gave a sigh of relief, motioned that he at last comprehended, and was about to scamper off to his cellar when the captain held him back, and, to prevent any further misunderstanding, drew the figure 20 underneath the picture of the bottle. To this new intelligence the tavernkeeper responded with uncouth contortions of delight, and a formidable "Yah!"

"The animal!" exclaimed Castillon, shrugging his shoulders, "why couldn't he answer like that right off!" And addressing himself to the new recruit: "If our innkeeper weren't such a b.o.o.by, we would have been able to drink your welcome to the battalion half an hour ago, Citizen Duresnel."

"True; but then we would have already drunk it, while now we have still in store the pleasure of putting it down," replied Duresnel thickly, as if he had a hot potato in his mouth, and dropping all his r's like one who had never seen Paris.

"Ho, ho! You come in time, comrade," replied a volunteer banteringly.

"We're going to have a fight to-morrow, you'll see what it is to go under fire. We'll have a brush of it!"

"That's what I came for," Duresnel made answer in his m.u.f.fled voice; "only--and you will laugh at me, citizens--I confess to you--never having smelled gunpowder, I am afraid--"

"Which? What?" cried the troop in chorus, greatly amused at the babyishness of the young Parisian. "What are you afraid of? Come, comrade, explain yourself."

"d.a.m.n! citizens--I am afraid--of being afraid!"

The answer provoked an explosion of hilarity. Without being in the least put out of countenance, Duresnel added: "Yes, wo'd of honor, citizens; never having been in action, and not knowing what effect it will have upon me, I am afraid of being afraid. That's very simple."

"Bravo, comrade," interjected Captain Martin, "it is not always those who make a flourish of their swords in advance who prove the most heady.

Your modesty is a good omen; in consequence of which I wager that to-morrow you will take your baptism of fire bravely, with a cry of Long live the Republic! Just have a little confidence in yourself."

"You're a good fellow, captain; I shall do my best. For, wo'd of honor, it would be disagreeable to me to know that I am a coward, after having posted from Paris to join the battalion."

"You came by post?" exclaimed Castillon. "You must have been in a hurry to get here!"

"Surely; I had already lost so much time. First I was at the quarters of the battalion in the barracks of Picpus, where I learned a little of the drill, after which I took a stage coach to reach Strasburg. Then, taking advantage of the escort which accompanied Representatives St. Just and Lebas to Ingelsheim, I rejoined the battalion, and here I am."

"A beaker of Moselle will give you courage, comrade," said Captain Martin, full of interest in the young man; and seeing at that moment the host return with two baskets bursting with bottles: "Come, friends, let us drink a welcome to Citizen Duresnel. Drink, comrades, to the extermination of Kings, priests, Jesuits, and aristocrats."

"Thanks, captain, I drink nothing but water;" and seeing on the sideboard a water-jug, Duresnel poured himself out a gla.s.sful. Then raising his b.u.mper, he replied: "To the health of my brave companions of the Seventh Battalion, Volunteers of Paris! To the extermination of all monarchs! To the lamp-post with the aristocrats!--Captain," continued Duresnel, "since you are my military superior, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Granted in advance, on one condition."

"And what's that, if you please, captain?"

"That you thee-and-thou us, myself and our comrades, as we thee-and-thou you. It is a mark of political fraternity."

"Very well, captain. Here, then, is the request I wish to make of you: I am now a soldier of the Army of the Rhine and Moselle. It seems to me I should take more pleasure of the business if I knew whereabouts we were in the war. Otherwise I should be like a man starting to read a story in the middle, and unable to understand a word, since he does not know the beginning."

"What you say is in point, comrade. I shall do the right thing by your request at one of our next watches."

At this moment the attention of the volunteers was drawn to a new personage who entered the inn-hall. This individual wore the uniform of a mounted cannonier, and the insignia of chief quartermaster. His dress, like that of the volunteers, bore many a patch. His face was of a strikingly martial cut, his long moustaches were covered with h.o.a.r-frost. On entering the room he delivered the military salute, and said briskly:

"Good even, citizens. Have you room for a moment at fire and lamplight for a mounted artilleryman of the Army of the Rhine?"

"By heaven, yes!" replied Castillon, stepping away from the fireplace to make room for the newcomer; then gazing at him curiously, he added: "But tell me, comrade, this doesn't seem to be the first time we two have met?"

"Quite likely not," replied the cannonier, in turn searching Castillon's features. "In fact, listen here, we met on an occasion which is, by heaven, difficult to forget--a meeting without its like!"

"Last year, on the second of September--"

"At the prison of La Force!"

"When we purged it of the priests, the holy shaven-pates, and the aristocrats."

"Comrade, you are James d.u.c.h.emin," cried Captain Martin, seizing him by the hand. "I heard your name p.r.o.nounced in the National a.s.sembly along with the other names of those who had given themselves to the fatherland. I admire your devotion. You offered all you possessed--your life and your two horses."

"Ah, you were at the a.s.sembly that day?"

"Aye, I came from the Abbey."

"Where you also did work?"

"A fatal and terrible necessity. I believed so then and think so still.

Death to the aristocrats and priests! But how one does meet! Come, a gla.s.s of wine, my old friend."

"That is not to be refused, comrade. I am frozen numb," returned d.u.c.h.emin; and added, in a tone of bitter recrimination, "That brigand of a Reddy!"

"Of what 'Reddy' do you speak, friend?"

"Oh, that is the name of one of the horses I gave to the country. We were enrolled, my two beasts and I, in '92, in the Second Battalion, Flying Artillery. But my other horse, my Double-grey, was missing from roll call after the battle of Watignies, because of a little impediment in the way of a four-pound cannon ball, which he received in the belly while one of the servants of my darling Carmagnole was riding him."

"What, you have a sweetheart whom you call Carmagnole? The idea is a droll one!"

"That is how I christened the four-pounder I had charge of in my battery. Ah, citizens," added d.u.c.h.emin, in reply to the volunteers'

mirth at his explanation, "if you only knew that beautiful little piece!

Such an amorous little mouth--to spit fire and cannon b.a.l.l.s at the nose of the Austro-Prussians and the other Ostrogoths."

"Come, come, old chap, do you take us for marines?" said Castillon, laughingly. "Do you want to give us the idea that pieces of artillery in general--and Carmagnole in particular--have characters!"

"Whether they have characters! Just ask your good cannoniers about that, you'll hear their answer. There are slatterns of pieces on whom you can never depend for a good shot. Whereas with Carmagnole--never a caprice.

You train her so many lines' elevation--she'll fire just so high; so many lines' depression--she'll fire low. An angel of a spit-fire! A very love!"

"Comrades," chimed in Captain Martin gaily, "captivated by the character, the virtues and the bravery of Citizeness Carmagnole, I propose her health, and that of the brave artillerymen of the Army of the Rhine."

"To the health of Carmagnole! To the health of the artillerymen of the Rhine!" chorused the volunteers, draining their gla.s.ses with d.u.c.h.emin.

Touched by this proof of sympathy for his cannon and his brothers in arms, the latter in turn raised his own gla.s.s and cried:

"Thanks, comrades, thanks! I shall convey your good wishes to Carmagnole, and I can tell you that in to-morrow's battle we shall be neither slothful nor over-hot, but just right. Meanwhile, I drink in her name and mine: To the health of the brave men of the Army of the Moselle. To the relief of Landau! Long live the Republic! To the lamp-post with the aristocrats, the black-caps, and all the Jesuits!"

"We shall raise the siege of Landau, or die!" enthusiastically acclaimed the volunteers. "Long live the Republic!"

"Well, indeed, wo'd of honor, I don't believe I am going to have any fear at all to-morrow!" exclaimed Duresnel, electrified by the ardor of his comrades. "Long live the Republic! Death to the aristocrats and down with the skull caps!"

"Citizen Duresnel," replied Captain Martin, smiling, "you will see that it is not such a devil of an undertaking to go under fire the first time, surrounded by gallant comrades."