Читать книгу The Last Cavalier: Being the Adventures of Count Sainte-Hermine in the Age of Napoleon - Александр Дюма, Alexandre Dumas - Страница 22

“THE PRISONERS ADMITTED they belonged to a group that had joined Monsieur de Teyssonnet, who was gathering an army in the Auvergne mountains. But they categorically denied that they had ever had the slightest connection with the stagecoach thieves named d’Assas, Adler, Montbar, and Morgan. They could make such brazen declarations because the stagecoaches had always been robbed by masked men. In only one case had the face of one of the leaders ever been seen, and that was my brother’s face.

“When they attacked the stagecoach running between Lyon and Vienne, a boy of about ten or twelve, who was in the cabriolet with the coachman, picked up the coachman’s pistol and shot at the Companions of Jehu. But the coachman, having foreseen just such a situation, had been careful not to load any bullets in his pistols. The boy’s mother, unaware of the coachman’s precaution, was so afraid for her son that she had fainted. My brother immediately tried to help her—he gave her some salts to breathe and tried to calm her shaken nerves—but as she thrashed about, she inadvertently knocked off Morgan’s mask and had been able to see Sainte-Hermine’s face.

“Throughout the trial, the public had great sympathy for the accused men. Each man’s alibi was proven by letters and witnesses, and the woman who had seen the bandit Morgan’s face declared that he was not among the four accused men. Furthermore, nobody had been harmed by their attacks, and nothing was taken but the treasure, and no one cared much about the treasure since there was no way of knowing who it belonged to really.

“The four men were about to be acquitted, when the president, turning unexpectedly to the woman who had fainted, asked, ‘Madame, would you be so good as to tell the court which of these gentlemen was gallant enough to provide the help you needed when you felt faint?’ The woman, caught unawares by the question, perhaps thought that while she was absent the four accused had admitted who they were. Or maybe she thought it a ploy to attract more sympathy for the accused men. Whatever she thought, she pointed to my brother and said, ‘Monsieur le Président, it was Monsieur le Comte de Sainte-Hermine.’

“Thus, the four accused men, all of them protected by the same indivisible alibi, were all of them brought down together and delivered to the hand of the executioner. ‘By Jove, Capitaine,’ said de Jahiat, stressing the word ‘captain,’ ‘that will teach you what being gallant is all about.’

“One cry of joy arose in the courtroom. Diana de Fargas was triumphant.

“‘Madame’—my brother bowed to the woman who had identified him—‘you have just caused four heads to fall with one single blow.’ Realizing what she had done, the woman fell to her knees and begged for forgiveness. But it was too late!

“I was in the audience that day, and felt about to faint myself. I also felt undying love for my brother.

“On that very day, the four condemned men were sentenced to death.

“Three of them refused to appeal. The fourth, Jahiat, resolutely did not. He told his companions he had a plan; and so they’d not attribute the delay he’d requested to any fear of dying, he explained that he was in the process of seducing the jailer’s daughter and that he hoped, with her, to find a way of escaping during the six or eight weeks the appeal would take. The three others, no longer objecting, joined with Jahiat and signed the papers requesting an appeal.

“Once they had latched on to the idea of escape, the four young souls clung to the possibility of life. It was not that they feared death, but death on the scaffold held no appeal as it lacked honor and conferred no prestige. So they encouraged Jahiat on their behalf to pursue his work of seduction, and in the meantime they tried to enjoy what was left of life as much as they could.

“The appeal did not offer much hope. For the First Consul had declared clearly his intention to crush all those bands of Royalist sympathizers until he had wiped them out completely.

“I myself exhausted all possible steps and every prayer to reach my brother. It was impossible.

“The accused men were ideal, I must say, as objects for everyone’s sympathies. They were young and handsome; they dressed in the latest fashion. They were confident without being haughty: all smiles with the public and polite with their judges, although they did sometimes make fun about what was happening. Not to mention that they belonged to some of the most important families of the province.

“The four accused men, the oldest of them not yet thirty, who had defended themselves against the guillotine but not against the firing squad, who had admitted they might deserve death but who asked to die as soldiers, composed an attractive tableau of youth, courage, and magnanimity.

“As everyone expected, their appeal was denied.

“Jahiat had managed to win the love of Charlotte, the jailer’s daughter, but the lovely girl’s influence over her father was not so great that she could arrange a means for the prisoners to escape. Not that Comptois, the chief jailer, didn’t pity the young men. He was a good man, a Royalist at heart, but, above all, an honest man. He would have given his right arm to prevent the misfortune befalling his four prisoners, but he refused sixty thousand francs to help them escape.

“Three gunshots fired outside the prison conveyed the news to the condemned men that their sentence had been upheld. That night, Charlotte brought each of the prisoners a pair of loaded pistols and a dagger; it was all the poor girl was able to do.

“The three gunshots and the imminent execution of the four condemned but admired young men alarmed the commissioner, and he requested the largest group of armed men that could be mustered. At six in the morning, as the scaffold was being constructed in the Place du Bastion, sixty horsemen stood ready for battle just outside the gate to the prison courtyard. Behind them, more than a thousand people were amassing in the square.

“The execution was set for seven o’clock. At six, the jailers entered the condemned men’s cells. The evening before, they had left their prisoners in shackles and without weapons. Only now they stood free of their shackles, and they were armed to the teeth. Their suspenders were crossed over their bared chests, their wide belts bristled with weapons.

“When it was least expected, the crowd heard what sounded like fighting. Then they saw the four condemned men burst forth from the prison. The crowd cried out as one—in awe, in fear—for surely something terrible was about to happen, these four prisoners looking like gladiators entering the ring.

“I managed to push my way to the front row. I saw them cross the courtyard. They saw that the enormous gate was closed and that on the other side of it, in an unbreakable line, gendarmes were standing motionless with their rifles at their knees.

“The four men stopped, put their heads together; seemed to confer for a moment.

“Then Valensolles, the oldest, strode up to the gate, and with a gracious smile and noble bow, he greeted the horsemen: ‘Very well, gentlemen of the Gendarmerie.’ Then, turning toward his three companions, he said: ‘Adieu, my friends.’ And then he blew his brains out. His body did three pirouettes, and he fell facedown to the ground.

“Next, Jahiat left his companions and walked over to the gate, where he cocked his own two pistols and pointed them toward the gendarmes. He did not shoot, but five or six gendarmes, thinking they were in danger, lowered their rifles and fired. Two bullets pierced Jahiat’s body. ‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Thanks to you I can die like a soldier.’ And he collapsed onto Valensolles’s body.

“In the meantime, Ribier had seemed to be trying to determine how he in his turn would die. Finally, he appeared to have come to a decision.

“He eyed a column in the courtyard. Ribier walked straight over to it, pulled the dagger from his belt, placed the point against the left side of his chest and set the handle against the column. Then he took the column in his arms, and after he’d saluted the spectators and his friends one last time, with his arms he squeezed the column until the dagger’s blade had completely disappeared into his breast. For a moment he remained standing. Soon, though, his face turned ghastly pale, and his arms loosened their hold on the pillar. His knees buckled. He fell, dead.

“The crowd stood mute, frozen in terror at the same time it was rapt in admiration. Everyone understood that these heroic men were willing to die, but that like ancient Roman gladiators, they wanted to die honorably.

“My brother was the last of them. As he surveyed the crowd he caught sight of me. He put his finger to his mouth, and I realized that he was asking me to stay strong and keep quiet. I nodded, but in spite of myself tears coursed down my cheeks. He motioned that he wished to speak. Everyone grew silent.

“When you witness a spectacle of that kind, you are as eager to hear words as to see action, for words help to explain actions. Still, what more could the crowd ask for? They had been promised four heads, all four falling uniformly and monotonously in the same manner. Instead, they were now being given four different deaths, each one more inventive, dramatic, and unexpected than the one before. The crowd knew that this last hero planned to die in a way at least as original as the other three.

“Charles held neither pistol nor dagger in his hands, though his belt held both. He walked around Valensolles’s body, then stood between the bodies of the other two, Jahiat and Ribier. Like an actor in a theater, he bowed grandly and smiled at the spectators.

“The crowd erupted in applause. Eager as everyone was to see what was coming, not a single person among them, I dare say, would not have given a portion of his own life to save the life of the last Companion of Jehu.

“‘Gentlemen,’ said Charles, and God only knows the anguish I felt as I listened to him, ‘you have come to see us die, and you have already seen three of us fall. Now it is my turn. I ask nothing better than to satisfy your curiosity, but I’ve come to propose a deal.’

“‘Speak! Speak!’ people shouted from all sides. ‘Whatever you ask will be granted.’

“‘All but your life!’ cried a woman’s voice—the same voice that had expressed triumph and joy at the sentencing.

“‘All but my life, of course,’ my brother repeated. ‘You saw my friend Valensolles blow out his brains, you saw my friend Jahiat get shot, you saw my friend Ribier stab himself, and you would like to see me die on the guillotine. I can understand that.’ His calm demeanor and sardonic words, spoken with no emotion, sent a shiver through the crowd.

“‘Well,’ Charles went on, ‘like a good sport I would like to die at your pleasure as much as at my own. I am prepared to have my head fall, but I wish to walk to the scaffold on my own, as if I were going to a meal or a ball, and, as an absolute condition, without anyone touching me. If anyone comes near’—he pointed to the two pistols in his belt—’I shall kill him. Except for this man,’ Charles continued, looking over to the executioner. ‘This business is between him and me, and proper procedures need to be followed.’

“The crowd seemed to accept the condition, for on all sides people shouted: ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’

“‘Do you hear?’ Charles addressed the officer of the gendarmerie. ‘Indulge me, Captain, and things will be fine.’

“The officer wanted nothing better than to make some concessions. ‘If I leave your hands and feet free,’ he said, ‘do you promise to attempt no escape?’

“‘I give you my word of honor,’ said Charles.

“‘Well, then,’ said the officer. ‘Move aside and let us carry off the bodies of your companions.’

“‘Yes, that’s only right,’ said Charles. Then, turning toward the crowd, he noted: “You see, it’s not my fault. I am not the cause of the delay; rather, these gentlemen are.’ He gestured toward the executioner and his two helpers loading the bodies on a cart.

“Ribier was not yet dead. He opened his eyes, as if he were looking for someone. Charles took his hand. ‘Here I am, good friend,’ he said. ‘Rest assured, I am joining you!’ Ribier’s eyes closed again; and his lips moved, but no sound came from them, only a reddish foam.

“‘Monsieur de Sainte-Hermine,’ said the brigadier when the three bodies had been removed. ‘Are you ready?’

“‘I await you, monsieur,’ Charles answered, bowing with exquisite politeness.

“‘In that case, please step forward.’ Charles moved to the middle of the gendarmes.

“‘Would you prefer to go by carriage?’ said the officer.

“‘By foot, monsieur. By foot. I want these people to know that I myself am allowing this extravaganza at the guillotine. Were I in a vehicle, people might think that fear kept me from walking.’

“The guillotine had been set up on the Place du Bastion. They crossed the Place des Lices, which takes its name from the carousel that stood there in older times, and then walked along the walls beside the gardens of the Hôtel Monbazon. The cart came first, then a detachment of ten dragoons. Then the condemned man, who now and then glanced over at me. Then, about ten paces behind, the gendarmes, led by their captain.

“At the end of the garden wall, the cortege turned to the left. And suddenly, through the opening between the garden and the grand hall, my brother caught a glimpse of the scaffold—and I could feel my own knees buckle. ‘Bah!’ he said. ‘I had never seen a guillotine. I did not realize they were so ugly.’

“Then, as quickly as a passing thought, he pulled the dagger from his belt and plunged it to the hilt into his chest.

“The captain spurred his horse and reached out to stop him, while the Comte pulled one of the double-barreled pistols from his belt and cocked it, saying: ‘Stop! We agreed that nobody would touch me. I will die alone, or three of us will die together. The choice is yours.’

“The captain stopped his horse and pulled it back.

“‘Let’s keep walking,’ said my brother.

“With my eyes fixed on my beloved brother and my ears straining to hear his every word as my mind recorded every gesture, I remembered again what Charles had written to Cadoudal: how he had refused to allow me to learn my military career at Cadoudal’s side; hoe he’d said that he was keeping me in reserve so that I could avenge his death and continue his work. I kept swearing under my breath that I would do what he expected of me, and from time to time a glance from him strengthened my resolve.

“In the meantime, he kept walking, blood dripping from his wound.

“When he reached the foot of the scaffold, Charles pulled the dagger from the wound and stabbed himself a second time. Still he remained standing. ‘Truly,’ he raged, ‘my soul must be firmly set in my body.’

“The helpers waiting on the scaffold removed the bodies of Valensolles, Jahiat, and Ribier from the cart. At the guillotine the heads of the first two, already corpses, fell without a single drop of blood. Ribier, though, let out a groan, and when his head was cut off, blood gushed out. The crowd shivered.

“Then it was my brother’s turn. As he waited he had kept his eyes on me almost constantly, even when the executioner’s assistants tried to pull him up onto the scaffold, and he said: ‘Don’t touch me. That was our agreement.’

“He climbed the six steps without stumbling. When he reached the platform, he pulled the dagger from his chest and stabbed himself a third time. He let out a horrible laugh that came accompanied by spurts of blood from all three wounds. ‘Well, that’s it,’ he said to the executioner. ‘That should be enough. Manage as best you can.’

“Then, turning to me, he cried, ‘Do you remember, Hector?’

“‘Yes, my brother,’ I answered.

“With no help, he lay down on the deadly plank. ‘There,’ he said to the executioner. ‘Is this acceptable?’

“The falling blade was the answer. But, filled with that implacable vitality that had kept my brother from dying at his own hand, his head, instead of falling into the basket with the others, bounced over its rim, rolled along the platform, and dropped to the ground.

“I burst through the row of soldiers restraining the crowd from the open space between them and the scaffold. As quickly as I could, before anyone could stop me, I picked up that dearly beloved head in my two hands and kissed it.

“His eyes opened and his lips moved beneath my own—Oh! I swear to God, his head recognized me. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ I said. ‘You can be sure that I will obey you.’

“The soldiers had made a movement to stop me, but several voices had shouted out: ‘It’s his brother!’ And all the soldiers stayed where they were.”