portia
the day had had no material results for cadoudal and his men, but the moral effect was immense. all the great vendéan chiefs had disappeared: stofflet and charette were dead; the abbé bernier had yielded, as we have said; and, finally, the vendée had been pacificated by the genius and patience of general hoche. and we have seen how hoche himself had disturbed bonaparte in far-off italy by offering men and money to the directory.
of the chouannerie and the vendée, the chouannerie alone remained. cadoudal was the only one of the chiefs who had refused to bend the knee. he had published his manifesto and announced that he had taken up arms again. then, besides the troops still remaining in the vendée and brittany, they had sent six thousand men against him.
cadoudal, with a thousand men, had not only held at bay six thousand veterans who had seen five years of active warfare, but he had driven them back to the town whence they had come, and had killed three or four hundred of them.
thus the new breton insurrection had opened with a victory.
when the blues were fairly in the town, and had posted their sentinels, cadoudal also ordered a retreat, for he meditated a fresh expedition for the night.
the victorious chouans could be seen joyfully returning through the thickets of furze and briar which edged the road, and above which, now that they were marching without disguise, they sometimes towered more than a head. they were calling to each other and crowding around one of their number who was playing the bag-pipe, as soldiers follow the trumpet of the regiment. the bag-pipe was their trumpet.
[pg 503]
at the bottom of the slope, just where the overturned trees had formed a barricade which the republican cavalry had been unable to pass, where they had separated to take part in the fight, so did cadoudal and d'argentan meet there after it was over. they were overjoyed to meet again, for they had scarcely had time for a hurried greeting before.
d'argentan, who had not fought for a long time before, had gone into the fray with such good-will that he had got himself a bayonet thrust in the arm. he had thrown his coat over his shoulder in consequence, and appeared with his arm in a sling, improvised from his bloody handkerchief.
as for diane; she now came down from the little knoll, and approached the two friends with her firm, masculine step.
"what," exclaimed cadoudal, on perceiving her, "did you remain, my fair amazon?"
d'argentan uttered a cry of surprise, for he recognized mademoiselle rotrou, the "post-mistress" of vitré.
"permit me," said cadoudal, still addressing diane, and indicating his companion with a wave of his hand, "to present to you one of my best friends."
"monsieur d'argentan?" said diane, smiling. "i already have the honor of his acquaintance. indeed we are old acquaintances of three days' standing. we travelled all the way from paris together."
"then it would have been his privilege to present me to you, had i not already done so myself." then, addressing diane more particularly, he added: "you were going to vitré, mademoiselle?"
"monsieur d'argentan," said diane, without replying to cadoudal's question, "on the way you offered to act as my immediate intercessor with general cadoudal, if i had any request to make of him."
"i was then under the impression, mademoiselle, that you did not know the general," replied d'argentan.[pg 504] "but when once one has seen you, you need no intercessor, and i answer for it that my friend here will grant you whatever you may ask."
"that, sir," said diane, "is pure gallantry, and a trick to evade your promise to me. i summon you positively to keep your word."
"speak, madame. i am ready to second your request with all my power," said d'argentan.
"i want to join the general's army," said diane, calmly.
"in what capacity?" asked d'argentan.
"in the capacity of a volunteer,"—replied diane coldly.
the two friends looked at each other.
"you hear, cadoudal?" asked d'argentan.
cadoudal's brow grew grave, and his whole countenance assumed a stern expression. then, after an instant's silence, he said: "madame, the proposal is a serious one, and deserves serious reflection. i will tell you something curious. i was at first ordained for the church; and i took in my heart all my vows of ordination, which i have never broken. i do not doubt that in you i should gain a charming aide-de-camp of undoubted bravery. i believe that women are as brave as men. but in our old religious brittany there exist certain prejudices which often force us to discourage too great devotion. several of my colleagues have received, it is true, the wives and daughters of royalists who have been assassinated, but to them is due the protection and asylum which they demand."
"and how do you know," returned diane, "that i am not the daughter of an assassinated noble, and perhaps also the sister of another, in which case i have a double claim to the hospitality which i invoke?"
"in that case," said d'argentan, with a mocking smile, joining in the conversation, "how does it happen that you have a passport signed by barras?"
"will you be good enough to show me your own, monsieur d'argentan?" asked diane.
d'argentan took it laughingly from the pocket of the[pg 505] coat which hung over his shoulder and gave it to her. she unfolded it and read:
give free passage throughout the territory of the republic to citizen sebastien argentan, tax-gatherer at dinan.
(signed) barras, rewbell, la reveillière-lepaux.
"and will you be good enough to tell me, sir," said diane, "how, as a friend of general cadoudal and fighting against the republic, you are supposed to have free passage throughout the territory of the republic, in the character of tax-collector of dinan. do not let us lift our masks, sir, let us remove them entirely."
"faith, that is well answered," said cadoudal, who was deeply impressed by diane's coolness and persistency. "come, speak! how did you get that passport? explain it to mademoiselle. perhaps she will then deign to explain how she came by hers."
"ah!" said d'argentan, laughing, "that is a secret which i dare not reveal before our prudish friend cadoudal; however, if you insist, mademoiselle, at the risk of making him blush, i will say that there lives in the rue des colonnes at paris, near the théatre feydeau, a certain aurélie de sainte-amour, to whom barras can refuse nothing, and who, in turn, can refuse me nothing."
"and furthermore," continued cadoudal, "the name on the passport conceals another, which is sufficient in itself to give him free passage among vendéans, chouans, and royalists who wear the white cockade, whether at home or abroad. your travelling companion, mademoiselle, who has now nothing to conceal, and whom i will consequently present to you under his real name, is not monsieur d'argentan, but coster de saint-victor; and had he given no pledge, heretofore, the wound which he has just received in fighting for our sacred cause—"
"if it needs only a wound to prove one's devotion, that is a very simple matter," said diane, coldly.
"what do you mean?" asked cadoudal.
"see!" said diane.
[pg 506]
and drawing the sharp dagger, which had given her brother his death-blow, from her belt, she struck her arm so violently in the place where coster de saint-victor had received his wound that the blade entered on one side and came out on the other.
"and as for the name," said diane, addressing the wondering young man, "although my name is not coster de saint-victor, it is diane de fargas! my father was assassinated four years ago, my brother a week ago."
coster de saint-victor started and glanced at the dagger which she had left in her arm, and, recognizing it as the one which had in his presence done to death the young lucien, he said: "i am a witness and can testify that this young girl has spoken the truth when she says that she is as worthy as any one to be received into the royalist army, and to be received among us and as one with us in our holy cause."
cadoudal held out his hand to her.
"from now on," said he, "if you have no father, mademoiselle, i will be your father. if you no longer have a brother, i will be your brother. i know there was once a roman woman who, fearing her husband's weakness, and to reassure him, pierced her own right arm with the blade of a knife. since we live in times which force us to conceal our real names, yours will be portia, henceforth, instead of diane de fargas, as in the past. and as you are now one of us, and at the first stroke have won the rank of leader, you will attend the meeting which i am about to hold when the surgeon has dressed your arm."
"thanks, general," said diane; "but as for the surgeon, i have no more need of his services than has monsieur coster de saint-victor; for my wound is no more serious than his."
drawing the dagger from the wound where it had remained, she slit up her sleeve, revealing her beautiful arm; then, addressing coster de saint-victor, she said, laughingly: "comrade, be good enough to lend me your cravat."
