in which abatucci fulfils the mission that he has received from his general, and charles that which he received from god
pichegru glanced around the room to make sure that they were alone, and then, lowering his voice, he said: "charles, my dear child, you have made a sacred promise in the sight of heaven which you must keep. if there is in this world a promise which should be kept inviolate above all others, it is one that has been made to a dying man. i have told you that i would give you the[pg 225] means to fulfil it, and i now keep my word. you still have the count's foraging-cap?" charles unbuttoned his coat and showed the general the cap.
"good! i shall send you to besan?on with falou. you will go with him to the little village of boussières, and will give the burgomaster the money intended for his mother; and, as i do not wish that any one should think that this is pillage money, which they certainly would if her son gave it to her himself, i desire that the burgomaster shall hand it to her himself. a letter from me will moreover remain in the village, bearing witness to our new quartermaster's courage. i give you and falou eight days' leave from the time you reach besan?on; you will doubtless want to show your new uniform."
"and will you give me nothing for my father?"
"a letter when you are ready to start."
just then leblanc announced that dinner was ready.
on entering the dining-room the general cast an anxious glance at the table; it was full, and more than full, pichegru having invited desaix to dine with him. the latter had brought with him one of his friends who was in pichegru's army, and whom he had made his aide-de-camp, rené savary, the same who had written faraud's certificate upon his corporal's stripes. the dinner was as lively as usual, all the officers of the staff being present; only two or three were wounded and those very slightly. after dinner they mounted their horses, and the general, with his entire staff, visited the outposts.
when they returned to the town, the general dismounted and told charles to do the same; and, giving the two horses to the chasseur in attendance, he told charles to accompany him to the streets where the shops were located.
"charles, my boy," he said, "in addition to the official and secret missions with which you are charged, i should like to give you a special one. will you accept it?"
"gladly, general," said charles, clinging to pichegru's arm. "what is it?"
[pg 226]
"i don't know yet. i have a friend at besan?on named rose; she lives in the rue collombier, no. 7."
"ah!" exclaimed charles, "i know her, she is our family seamstress. she is a kind-hearted woman about thirty, who limps a little."
"exactly," said pichegru, smiling. "the other day she sent me six fine linen shirts which she had made herself. i should like to send her something in return."
"that is a good idea, general."
"but what shall i send? i do not know what would please her."
"take the advice that the weather itself gives you—buy her a good umbrella. we will use it on the way home. then i will tell her that you have used it, and it will be all the more precious to her."
"you are right; it will be most useful to her when she goes out. poor rose, she has no carriage. let us go in here."
they were just opposite an umbrella-shop. pichegru opened and shut ten or twelve, finally selecting a magnificent sky-blue one. he paid thirty-eight francs in paper money at par for it. this was the gift which the first general of the republic sent to his best friend. the reader will readily understand that i should not have related this incident if it were not historic.
when they returned at night, pichegru busied himself with his correspondence, telling charles, who was to start the next day, to sleep well.
it was on this evening that the curious occurrence which i am about to relate took place. it was told to me by little charles himself, after he had grown to be a man of forty-five, and had become a learned writer, with the great library he had wished for so many years before.
charles, obeying saint-just's decree, threw himself upon his bed all dressed. like all who wore the uniform, he customarily had a black cravat tied tight around his neck. it was like that which pichegru himself wore, and[pg 227] which all the staff had adopted; in the first place, out of compliment to the general, and, secondly, in protest against saint-just's voluminous neckpieces. charles, in order to copy the general more exactly, tied his in a little knot on the left side—a fashion which he continued to follow until his death.
half an hour later, pichegru, who was working, heard charles moan. at first he paid no attention to it, thinking that the boy was dreaming; but as the groans became more pronounced, and changed to a rattling in the throat, pichegru rose, went to the boy, whom he found lying face down, raised his head after slipping his hand under his neck, and untied the knot which was strangling him.
the boy awoke, and, recognizing pichegru, who was bending over him, asked: "is it you, general; do you need me?"
"no," replied the general, laughing, "it is you, on the contrary, who needed me. you were uneasy and groaned, and when i came to look at you i had no difficulty in finding what was the matter with you. any one who wears a tight cravat like us must take care to loosen it a little before going to sleep. i will explain to you some other time how neglect of this precaution might cause apoplexy and sudden death. it is one method of suicide."
and we shall see that it was the one which pichegru adopted later.
on the next day abatucci started for paris, faraud and his two comrades for chateauroux, and charles and falou for besan?on. a fortnight later faraud sent word that distribution had been made throughout the department of the indre.
the general had already received a letter from abatucci, written ten days after his departure, telling how he had presented the five flags to the president amid cries of "long live the republic!" from all the members of the convention and the spectators, adding that the president had thereupon confirmed his rank.
[pg 228]
finally, on the fourth day after charles's departure, before he heard from any one else, pichegru received the following letter on the 14th niv?se (3d of january):
my dear general—the new calendar made me forget one thing, that, by reaching besan?on on the 31st of december, i should be able to wish all my family a happy new year on the following day.
you, however, did not forget it, and my father feels grateful to you for your kindness and thanks you heartily.
on the 1st of january (old style), after we had wished one another a happy new year, and had embraced each other, falou and i set out for the village of boussières. there, as you had directed, we stopped the carriage at the burgomaster's house to whom your letter was addressed; he forthwith summoned the village drummer who announces all important news to the people. he directed him to read your letter over three times so that no mistake should be made, and then he sent him to beat his drum before old mother falou's door, who, at the first tap, came to the threshold leaning on her stick. falou and i were only a few steps away.
as soon as the roll ceased the proclamation began. when she heard her son's name the poor old woman, who had not understood very well, began to cry, asking: "is he dead? is he dead?"
an oath, big enough to crack the sky, made her turn, and then, seeing the uniform dimly, she cried: "there he is! there he is!"
and then she fell into her son's arms, and he embraced her amid the applause of the whole village. thereupon, as the proclamation, which had been interrupted by this little scene, had not been fully understood, it was begun all over again. as the drummer read the last sentence, the burgomaster, who wished to make his little sensation, came forward with a wreath in one hand and the purse in the other. he put the laurel-wreath on falou's head and the purse in his mother's hand. i could not stay any longer, but i heard later that the village of boussières had a celebration that day with illuminations, a ball, and fireworks, and that falou went about among his fellow citizens with his laurel-wreath on his head, like c?sar, until two o'clock in the morning.
as for me, general, i returned to besan?on to carry out[pg 229] the sad duty which you know about, and of which i will tell you the full particulars when i see you again.
not until then did i find time to attend to your commission; but after that i hastened to the rue collombier, no. 7, and went up to the third floor. rose recognized me and received me as a little friend; but when she knew that i came from her great friend, then i tell you, general, poor rose could not say enough. she took me in her arms, kissed me, and wept over me.
"what! did he really think of me?"
"yes, mademoiselle rose."
"of his own accord?"
"i assure you that it is so."
"and did he choose this beautiful umbrella himself?"
"he himself."
"and he used it when he returned to the hotel?"
"well, we both used it, but he held it."
without another word she looked at the handle, kissed it and wept over it. i did not try to check her tears, but wept with her; they were tears of joy, and it would have pained her had i said: "stop!" then i told her how satisfied you were with the shirts she had sent you and that you would wear no others. this made her all the worse. then how we did talk about you! she is going to write you herself and thank you, but she bade me say all sorts of kind things to you from her.
i must also say in regard to my father that you must have told him some pretty stories in regard to his son, for while he was reading he looked at me queerly, and i noticed that his eyes were wet. like mademoiselle rose, he will write to you.
i fear that i have taken more of your time than i deserve; but you have made an important personage of me by intrusting me with three commissions, and so i hope you will pardon this chatter from your little friend.
charles nodier.
