Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume I Part 63

Had a thunderbolt fallen between us I could not have felt more terror.

That name, spoken but twice or thrice in my hearing, had each time brought its omen of evil.

It was the same with whose acquaintance Marie de Meudon charged me in the garden of Versailles; the same who brought the _Chouans_ to the guillotine, and had so nearly involved myself in their ruin; and now I heard of him as one whose dreadful life had been a course of perfidy and crime,--one who blasted all around him, and scattered ruin as he went.

"I have little more to add," resumed the general, after a long pause, and in a voice whose weakened accents evinced how fearfully the remembrance he called up affected him. "What remains, too, more immediately concerns myself than others. I am the last of my house. An ancient family, and one not undistinguished in the annals of France, hangs but on the feeble thread of a withered and broken old man's life, with whom it dies. My only brother fell in the Austrian campaign. I never had a sister. Uncles and cousins I have had in numbers; but death and exile have been rife these last twenty years, and, save myself, none bears the name of D'Auvergne.

"Yet once I nourished the hope of a family,--of a race who should hand down the ancient virtues of our house to after years. I thought of those gallant ancestors whose portraits graced the walls of the old chteau I was born in, and fancied myself leading my infant boy from picture to picture, as I pointed out the brave and the good who had been his forefathers. But this is a dream long since dispelled. I was then a youth, scarce older than yourself, rich, and with every prospect of happiness before me. I fell in love, and the object of my pa.s.sion seemed one created to have made the very paradise I sought for. She was beautiful, beyond even the loveliest of a handsome Court; high-born and gifted. But her heart was bestowed on another,--one who, unlike myself, encouraged no daring thoughts, no ambitious longings, but who, wholly devoted to her he loved, sought in tranquil quiet the happiness such spirits can give each other. She told me herself frankly, as I speak now to you, that she could not be mine; and then placed my hand in her husband's. This was Marie de Rochefort, the mother of Mademoiselle de Meudon.

"The world's changes seem ever to bring about these strange vicissitudes by which our early deeds of good and evil are brought more forcibly to our memories, and we are made to think over the past by some accident of the present. After twenty years I came to live in that chteau where she whom I once loved had lived and died. I became the lord of that estate which her husband once possessed, and where in happiness they had dwelt together. I will not dwell upon the thoughts such a.s.sociations ever give rise to; I dare not, old as I am, evoke them."

He paused for some minutes, and then went on: "Two years ago I learned that Mademoiselle de Meudon was the daughter of my once loved Marie.

From that hour I felt no longer childless. I watched over her,--without, however, attracting notice on her part,--and followed her everywhere.

The very day I saw you first at the Polytechnique, I was beside her.

From all I could learn and hear, her life bad been one of devoted attachment to her brother, and then to Madame Bonaparte. Her heart, it was said, was buried with him she once loved,--at least none since had ever won even the slightest acknowledgment from her bordering on encouragement.

"Satisfied that she was everything I could have wished my own daughter, and feeling that with youth the springs of affection rarely dry up, I conceived the idea of settling all my property on her, and entreating the Emperor to make me her guardian, with her own consent of course. He agreed: he went further; he repealed, so far as it concerned her, the law by which the daughters of Royalists cannot inherit, and made her eligible to succeed to property, and placed her hand at my disposal.

"Such was the state of matters when I wrote to you. Since that I have seen her, and spoken to her in confidence. She has consented to every portion of the arrangement, save that which involves her marrying; but some strange superst.i.tion being over her mind that her fate is to ruin all with whom it is linked, that her name carries an evil destiny with it, she refuses every offer of marriage, and will not yield to my solicitation.

"I thought," said the general, as he leaned on his hand, and muttered half aloud, "that I had conceived a plan which must bring happiness with it. But, however, one part of my design is accomplished: she is my heir; the daughter of my own loved Marie is the child of my adoption, and for this I have reason to feel grateful. The cheerless feeling of a deathbed where not one mourns for the dying haunts me no longer, and I feel not as one deserted and alone. To-morrow I go to wish her adieu; and we are to be at the Tuileries by noon. The Emperor holds a leve, and our final orders will then be given."

The old general rallied at the last few words he spoke, and pressing my hand affectionately, wished me goodnight, and withdrew; while I, with a mind confused and stunned, sat thinking over the melancholy story he had related, and sorrowing over the misfortunes of one whose lot in life had been far sadder than my own.

CHAPTER XLII. THE HALL OF THE MARSHALS

Some minutes before noon we entered the Place du Carrousel, now thronged with equipages and led horses. Officers in the rich uniforms of every arm of the service were pressing their way to the Palace, amid the crash of carriages, the buzz of recognitions, and the thundering sounds of the bra.s.s band, whose echo was redoubled beneath the vaulted vestibule of the Palace.

Borne along with the torrent, we mounted the wide stair and pa.s.sed from room to room, until we arrived at the great antechamber where the officers of the household were a.s.sembled in their splendid dresses. Here the crowd was so dense we were unable to move on for some time, and it was after nearly an hour's waiting that we at last found ourselves within that gorgeous gallery named by the Emperor "La Salle des Marchaux." At any other moment my attention had been riveted upon the magnificence and beauty of this great _salon_--its pictures, its gildings, the richness of the hangings, the tasteful elegance of the ceiling, with its tracery of dull gold, the great works of art in bronze and marble that adorned it on every side,--but now my mind took another and very different range. Here around me were met the greatest generals and warriors of Europe,--the names second alone to his who had no equal.

There stood Ney, with his broad, retiring forehead, and his eyes black and flas.h.i.+ng, like an eagle's. With what energy he spoke! how full of pa.s.sionate vigor that thick and rapid utterance, that left a tremulous quivering on his lip even when he ceased to speak! What a contrast to the bronzed, unmoved features of the large man he addressed, and who listened to him with such deference of manner: his yellow mustache bespeaks not the Frenchman; he is a German, by blood at least,--for it is Kellerman, the colonel of the cura.s.siers of the Guard. And yonder was Soult, with his strong features seamed by many a day of hards.h.i.+p, the centre of a group of colonels of the staff to whom he was rapidly communicating their orders. Close beside him stood Lannes, his arm in a sling; a gunshot wound that defied the art of the surgeons still deprived him of his left hand. And there leaned Savary against the window, his dark eyes riveted on the corps of _gendarmerie_ in the court beneath; full taller by a head than the largest about him, he seemed almost gigantic in the ma.s.sive accoutrements of his service. The fierce Davoust; the gay and splendid Murat, with his waving plumes and jewelled dolman; Lefebvre, the very type of his cla.s.s, moving with difficulty from a wound in his hip,--all were there: while pa.s.sing rapidly from place to place, I remarked a young and handsome man, whose uniform of colonel bore the decoration of the Legion; he appeared to know and be known to all. This was Eugne Beauharnais, the stepson of the Emperor.

"Ah, Gnral d'Auvergne!" cried he, approaching with a smile, "his Majesty desires to see you after the leve. You leave to-night, I believe?"

"Yes, Colonel; all is in readiness," said the general; while I thought a look of anxiety at the Emperor's summons seemed to agitate his features.

"One of your staff?" said Beauharnais, bowing, as he looked towards me.

"My aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Burke," replied the general, presenting me.

"Ah! I remember," said the colonel, as he drew himself proudly up, and seemed as though the recollection were anything but favorable to me.

But just then the wide folding-doors were thrown open, and a loud voice proclaimed, "Sa Majest l'Empereur!"

In an instant every voice was hushed, the groups broke up, and fell back into two long lines, between which lay a pa.s.sage; along this the officers of the Palace retired slowly, facing the Emperor, who came step by step after them. I could but see the pale face, ma.s.sive and regular, like the head of an antique cameo; the hair combed straight upon his fine forehead; and his large, full eyes, as they turned hither and thither among that crowd, once his equals, now how immeasurably his inferiors! He stopped every now and then to say a word or two to some one as he pa.s.sed, but in so low a tone, that even in the dead silence around nothing was audible save a murmur. It was a relief to my own excited feelings, as, with high, beating heart, I gazed on the greatest monarch of the world, that I beheld the others around, the oldest generals, the time-worn companions of his battles, not less moved than myself.

While the Emperor pa.s.sed slowly along, I could mark that Eugne Beauharnais moved rapidly through the gallery, whispering now to this one, now to that, among the officers of superior grade, who immediately after left the salon by a door at the end. At length he approached General d'Auvergne, saying,--

"The audience of the marshals, will not occupy more than half an hour; pray be in readiness to wait on his Majesty when he calls. You can remain in the blue drawing-room next the gallery!"

The general bowed, and taking my arm, moved slowly from the spot in the direction mentioned, and in a few minutes we found ourselves in the small room where the Empress used to receive her morning visitors during the Consulate.

"You remember this _salon_ Burke?" said the general, carelessly.

"Yes, sir, but too well; it was here that his Majesty gave me that rebuke--"

"True, true, my dear boy; I forgot that completely. But come, there has been time enough to forget it since. I wonder what can mean this summons to attend here! I have received my orders; there has been, so far as I understand, no change of plan. Well, well, we shall soon know. See, the leve has begun to break up already; there goes the staff of the artillery; that roll of the drum is for some general of division."

And now the crash of carriages, and the sounds of cavalry escorts jingling beside them, mingled with the deep beating of the drums, made a ma.s.s of noises that filled the air, and continued without interruption or above an hour.

"_Sacristi_" cried the general, "the crowd seems to pour in as fast as it goes out; this may last for the entire day. I have scarce two hours left me now."

He walked the room impatiently; now muttering some broken words to himself, now stopping to listen to the sounds without. Still the din continued, and the distant roll of equipages, growing louder as they came, told that the tide was yet pressing onwards towards the Palace.

"Three o'clock!" cried the general, as the bell of the pavilion sounded; "at four I was to leave. Such were my written orders, signed by the minister."

His impatience now became extreme. He knew how difficult it was, in a matter of military discipline, to satisfy Napoleon that any breach, even when caused by his direct orders, was not a fault. Besides, his old habits had taught him to respect a command from the Minister of War as something above all others.

"Beauharnais must have mistaken," said he, angrily. "His Majesty gave me my final directions; I'll wait no longer."

Yet did he hesitate to leave, and seemed actually to rely on me for some hint for his guidance. I did not dare to offer a suggestion; and while thus we both stood uncertain, the door opened, and a huissier called out,--

"Lieutenant-Greneral d'Auvergne,--this way, sir," said the official, as he threw open a folding-door into a long gallery that looked into the garden. They pa.s.sed out together, and I was alone.

The agitation of the general at this unexpected summons had communicated itself to me, but in a far different way; for I imagined that his Majesty desired only to confer some mark of favor on the gallant old general before parting with him. Yet did I not venture to suggest this to him, for fear I should be mistaken.

While I revolved these doubts in my mind, the door was flung open with a crash, and a page, in the uniform of the Court, rushed in.

"May I ask, sir," cried he, breathlessly, "can you inform me where is the aide-de-camp of the General d'Auvergne? I forget the name, unfortunately."

"I am the person,--Lieutenant Burke."

"The same; that is the name. Gome after me with all haste; this way."

And so saying, he rushed down a flight of stone stairs, clearing six or seven at a spring.

"A hurried business this, Lieutenant," said the page, laughingly; "took them by by surprise, I fancy."

"What is it? What do you mean?" asked I, eagerly.

"Hus.h.!.+" said he, placing his fingers on his lips; "here they come."

We had just time to stand to one side of the gallery, as the officers of the household came up, two and two, followed by the Chancellor of France, and the Dean of St. Roch in his full canonicals. They approached the table, on which several papers and doc.u.ments were lying, and proceeded to sign their names to different writings before them. While I looked on, puzzled and amazed, totally unable to make the most vague conjecture of the nature of the proceedings, I perceived that General d'Auvergne had entered the room, and was standing among the rest at the table.

"Whose signature do you propose here. General?" said the chancellor, as he took up a paper before him.

"My aide-de-camp. Lieutenant Burke."

"He is here, sir," said the page, stepping forward.

"You are to sign your name here, sir, and again on this side," said the chancellor, "with your birthplace annexed, age, and rank in the service."