The Companions of Jehu by Alexandre Dumas (red scrolls of magic .txt) 📕

notice that my brother says he wills it?”

“Oh, if you loved me, Amélie, that man would see that he may change the face of the State, carry war from one end of the world to the other, make laws, build a throne, but that he cannot force lips to say yes when the heart says no.”

“If I loved you!” said Amélie, in a tone of soft reproach. “It is midnight, you are here in my room, I weep in your arms—I, the daughter of General de Montrevel and the sister of Roland—and you say, ‘If you loved me.’”

“I was wrong, I was wrong, my darling Amélie. Yes, I know that you were brought up in adoration of that man; you cannot understand that any one should resist him, and whoever does resist him is a rebel in your eyes.”

“Charles, you said there were three things that we could do. What is the second?”

“Accept apparently the marriage they propose to you, and gain time, by delaying under various pretexts. The man is not immortal.”

“No; but is too young for us to count on his death. The third way, dear friend?”

“Fly—but that is a last resource, Amélie; there are two objections: first, your repugnance.”

“I am yours, Charles; I will surmount my repugnance.”

“And,” added the young man, “my engagements.”

“Your engagements?”

“My companions are bound to me, Amélie; but I, too, am bound to them. We also have a man to whom we have sworn obedience. That man is the future king of France. If you accept your brother’s devotion to Bonaparte, accept ours to Louis XVIII.”

Amélie let her face drop into her hands with a sigh.

“Then,” said she, “we are lost.”

“Why so? On various pretexts, your health above all, you can gain a year. Before the year is out Bonaparte will probably be forced to begin another war in Italy. A single defeat will destroy his prestige; in short, a great many things can happen in a year.”

“Did you read Roland’s postscript, Charles?”

“Yes; but I didn’t see anything in it that was not in your mother’s letter.”

“Read the last sentence again.” And Amélie placed the letter before him. He read:

I am leaving Paris for a few days; though you may not see me, you will hear of me.

“Well?”

“Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“It means that Roland is in pursuit of you.”

“What does that matter? He cannot die by the hand of any of us.”

“But you, unhappy man, you can die by his!”

“Do you think I should care so very much if he killed me, Amélie?”

“Oh! even in my gloomiest moments I never thought of that.”

“So you think your brother is on the hunt for us?”

“I am sure of it.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“Because he swore over Sir John’s body, when he thought him dead, to avenge him.”

“If he had died,” exclaimed the young man, bitterly, “we should not be where we are, Amélie.”

“God saved him, Charles; it was therefore good that he did not die.”

“For us?”

“I cannot fathom the ways of the Lord. I tell you, my beloved Charles, beware of Roland; Roland is close by.”

Charles smiled incredulously.

“I tell you that he is not only near here, but he has been seen.”

“He has been seen! Where? Who saw him?”

“Who saw him?”

“Yes.”

“Charlotte, my maid, the jailer’s daughter. She asked permission to visit her parents yesterday, Sunday; you were coming, so I told her she could stay till this morning.”

“Well?”

“She therefore spent the night with her parents. At eleven o’clock the captain of the gendarmerie brought in some prisoners. While they were locking them up, a man, wrapped in a cloak, came in and asked for the captain. Charlotte thought she recognized the new-comer’s voice. She looked at him attentively; his cloak slipped from his face, and she saw that it was my brother.”

The young man made a movement.

“Now do you understand, Charles? My brother comes to Bourg, mysteriously, without letting me know; he asks for the captain of the gendarmerie, follows him into the prison, speaks only to him, and disappears. Is that not a threatening outlook for our love? Tell me, Charles!”

As Amélie spoke, a dark cloud spread slowly over her lover’s face.

“Amélie,” said he, “when my companions and I bound ourselves together, we did not deceive ourselves as to the risks we ran.”

“But, at least,” said Amélie, “you have changed your place of refuge; you have abandoned the Chartreuse of Seillon?”

“None but our dead are there now.”

“Is the grotto of Ceyzeriat perfectly safe?”

“As safe as any refuge can be that has two exit.”

“The Chartreuse of Seillon had two exits; yet, as you say, you left your dead there.”

“The dead are safer than the living; they are sure not to die on the scaffold.”

Amélie felt a shudder go through her.

“Charles!” she murmured.

“Listen,” said the young man. “God is my witness, and you too, that I have always put laughter and gayety between your presentiments and my fears; but to-day the aspect of things has changed; we are coming face to face with the crisis. Whatever the end brings us, it is approaching. I do not ask of you, my Amélie, those selfish, unreasonable things that lovers in danger of death exact from their mistresses; I do not ask you to bind your heart to the dead, your love to a corpse—”

“Friend,” said the young girl, laying her hand on his arm, “take care; you are doubting me.”

“No; I do you the highest honor in leaving you free to accomplish the sacrifice to its full extent; but I do not want you to be bound by an oath; no tie shall fetter you.”