The Rebel Chief: A Tale of Guerilla Life

"At a word from the chaplain the prison door was immediately opened. The Count entered, and preceded by the worthy priest, and followed by a gaoler they went toward the condemned man's cell."

"The gaoler, with a torch in his hand, silently guided the two visitors along a numerous series of passages, and then, on reaching a door barred with iron from top to bottom, he checked him, uttering but one word: – 'Enter!'"

"They went into the dungeon – we employ this usual term, although nothing less resembled a dungeon than the room they entered. It was a rather spacious cell, lighted by two gothic windows, lined with heavy bars on the exterior. The furniture consisted of a bed, that is to say, a frame on which a cow hide was stretched, a table and various chairs, while a looking glass hung on the wall. At the end of the room was an altar hung with black, for the condemned man was in chapel. Daily, since the passing of the sentence, the chaplain had said two low masses there for the culprit."

At this singular account of the capilla which only exists in Spain and her dependencies, the two hearers exchanged a side glance which the adventurer did not remark. The latter went on, without suspecting the error he had unreflectingly committed.

"The condemned man was seated in an equipal, with his head in his hand, with his elbow on the table, he was reading by the light of a smoky lamp."

"On the entrance of the visitors he immediately rose and bowed to them with the most exquisite politeness."

"'Gentlemen, pray take seats, and do me the honour of awaiting for a few minutes the arrival of the persons I have sent for,' he said, drawing up butacas, 'their presence is indispensable, for at a later date no one must be able to cast a doubt on the truth of the revelation I wish to make to you.'"

"The chaplain and the Count gave a sign of assent and sat down. There was a silence for some minutes, only interrupted by the regular steps of the sentry stationed in the passage to guard the condemned man, and who passed and repassed in front of his dungeon."

"Red Arm had returned to his equipal, and seemed to be reflecting. The Count took advantage of this circumstance to examine him attentively."

"He was a man of not more than forty years of age, he was of tall stature, and powerfully built, and his gestures displayed ease and elegance. His rather large head was, doubtless through a habit of commanding, thrown back, his features were handsome and strongly marked, while his glance had extraordinary intensity. A singular expression of gentleness and energy that was spread over his face, gave it a strange look impossible to describe; his black hair curling naturally, fell in large curls on his broad shoulders. His costume, entirely of black velvet, and peculiarly cut, formed a contrast to the dull pallor of his complexion, and added, even if possible, to the striking appearance of his whole person."

"A sound of footsteps was heard outside, a key grated in the lock, and the door opened: two men appeared. The gaoler, after introducing them into the dungeon without saying a word, went out and closed the door after him. The first of these two men was the director of the prison, an active old gentleman still, in spite of his sixty years, with calm features and venerable aspect, whose white hair cut short on his temples fell behind on his coat collar. The second was an officer – a major his gold epaulettes proved; he was young, and appeared scarce thirty, while his features had nothing very remarkable about them: he was one of those men born to wear a uniform, and who if dressed in civilian garb would appear ridiculous, so thoroughly are they created for a soldier's harness. Both bowed politely, and waited, without uttering a word, till they received an explanation of the request sent them to come to this dungeon. The condemned man understood their motive. After the first salutations had been exchanged, he hastened to make known to them his motive for requesting them to come to him at this supreme moment when he had nothing more to hope from man."

"'Gentlemen,' he said to them in a firm, voice, 'in a few short hours I shall have satisfied human justice, and will appear before that of God, which is far more terrible. Since the day when I began the implacable struggle which I have carried on against society, I have committed many crimes, secured many hatreds, and been the accomplice of an incalculable number of odious actions. The sentence passed on me is just, and though resolved to undergo – like a man whom death has never terrified – the punishment to which I am condemned, I think it my duty to confess to you with the greatest sincerity and deepest humility that I repent of my crimes, and that, far from dying impenitent, I shall die imploring God not to pardon me, but to regard my repentance with pity.'"

"'Good, my son,' the chaplain said gently; 'take refuge in God, His mercy is infinite.'"

"There was a silence of some minutes, which Red Arm was the first to interrupt."

"'I should have liked at this supreme moment,' he said, 'to repair the evil I have done. Alas! This is impossible, my victims are really done, and no human power would be able to restore them the life of which I so cowardly deprived them; but among these crimes there is one – the most frightful of all perhaps – which, it is true, I cannot fully repair, but whose effects I hope to neutralise by revealing to you its sinister incidents, and divulging to you the name of the man who was my accomplice. God, by unexpectedly bringing Count Oclau to this town, doubtless wished to force me to this expiation; I submit without a murmur to His will, and perhaps He will deign to pity me on account of my obedience. Gentlemen, in requesting you to come to me, I wish to procure the person most interested in my narrative, the indispensable witnesses who will enable human justice to punish the criminal hereafter without fear of error. Hence, gentlemen, take note of my words, for I swear to you on the brink of the tomb that they are perfectly true.'"

"The condemned man ceased, and appeared to be collecting his thoughts. His hearers waited with the most eager curiosity; the Count more especially tried in vain to conceal by a cold and stern, air the anxiety that was contracting his heart. A secret presentiment warned him that the light was at length about to shine, and that the hitherto impenetrable secret which surrounded his family, and the clue of which he had so long sought, was about to be divulged to him. Red Arm continued, after selecting from among the papers that crowded his table a rather large bundle, which he opened and placed before him."

"'Though eight years have elapsed,' he said, 'since the period when these events happened, they have remained so fresh in my mind that as soon as I heard of the arrival of Count Oclau in this town, a few hours sufficed me to write a detailed account of them. I am about to read to you, gentlemen, this frightful history, after which each of you will attach his signature beneath mine at the end of this manuscript, in order to give it the necessary authenticity for the use which the Count will think it his duty to turn it to hereafter on behalf of his family, and to punish the guilty man. I in all this have only been the paid accomplice and the instrument employed to strike the victim.'"

"'This precaution is very good,' the prison director then said: 'we will sign this revelation unhesitatingly, of whatever nature it may be.'"

"'Thanks, gentlemen,' the Count remarked, 'though I am as ignorant as yourselves of the facts which are about to be revealed; still, for certain private reasons, I feel almost convinced that what I am going to hear is of great importance to the happiness of certain members of my family.'"

"'You shall judge of that, my lord,' the condemned man said, and immediately began reading his manuscripts."

"This reading lasted nearly two hours. The result of the collected facts was this: first, that when the Prince of Oppenheim Schleswig was killed, the bullet came from the gun of Red Arm, who was concealed in a thicket, and paid by the prince's younger son to commit this parricide. Once he had entered on this slippery path of crime, the young man followed it without hesitation or remorse in order to reach the object he meditated, that of seizing the paternal fortune. After a parricide, a fratricide was nothing to him, and he executed it with a Machiavellism full of atrocious precautions. Other crimes, more awful still were it possible, were recorded with a truth of detail so striking, and supported by such undeniable proofs, that the witnesses summoned by the condemned criminal asked themselves, with horror, if it were possible that such an atrocious monster could exist, and what horrible punishment was reserved for him by that divine justice which he had mocked with such frightful cynicism for so many years. The princess, on learning her husband's death, had been seized by the pangs of childbirth, and was delivered – not of a daughter as everybody believed – but of twins, of whom the boy was carried off, and the prince got rid of him in order to annul the clause in his brother's will which left to his posthumous son the titles and entire fortune of the family."

"The Count, with his face buried in his hands, fancied himself suffering from a horrible nightmare; in spite of the aversion he had ever felt for his brother-in-law, he would never have dared suspect him capable of committing so coldly, and at lengthened intervals, a series of odious crimes patiently arranged and meditated under the impulse of the vilest and most contemptible of all passions, the thirst for gold. He asked himself if, in spite of undeniable proofs he had thus unexpectedly obtained, there was in the whole empire a tribunal which would dare assume the possibility of punishing crimes so odious and so beyond human nature. On the other hand this revelation, if made public, would irresistibly dishonour a family to which he was closely allied: would not this dishonour be reflected on his own family? All these thoughts whirled in the Count's brain, causing him horrible grief, and increasing his perplexity, for he knew not what resolution to form in so serious a case, he dared not ask advice of anyone, or seek support."

"Red Arm rose, and walking up to the Count, said – 'My lord, take this manuscript, it is now yours.'"

"The Count mechanically took the manuscript which was offered him."

"'I can understand your astonishment and horror, sir,' the condemned man continued; 'these things are so terrible, that in spite of these stamps of truth, the exceptional circumstances under which they were written, and the authority of the persons who have signed the statement after hearing it read, it runs the risk of being doubted; hence I wish to protect you from all suspicion of imposture, my lord, by adding to this document some undeniable proofs.'"

"'Do you possess them?' the Count said, with a start."

"'I do. Be good enough to open this portfolio: it contains twenty odd letters from your brother-in-law, addressed to me, and all relating to the facts recorded in this manuscript.'"

"'Oh, Heavens!' the Count exclaimed, clasping his hands; but suddenly turning to Red Arm, he added, – "

"'This is strange.'"

"The convict smiled."

"'I understand you,' he answered; 'you are asking yourself how it is that, holding letters so compromising to the Prince of Oppenheim, he did not employ the power he possesses to put me out of the way, and regain possession of these proofs of his guilt?'"

"'In truth,' the Count replied, amazed at finding his meaning so thoroughly divined; 'the Prince, my brother-in-law, is a man of extreme prudence, and he had too great an interest in destroying these overwhelming proofs.'"

"'Certainly; and he would not have failed, I feel convinced, to employ the most expeditious means in succeeding; but the Prince was ignorant that these proofs remained in my possession. This is how, whenever he appointed a meeting with me by letter, so soon as I arrived in his presence, I burned a letter exactly like the one I had received from him, in order to prove to him with what good faith I acted, and what confidence I had in him, so that he never supposed I had kept them. In the next place, immediately after your sister's confinement, supposing rightly that the Prince, having succeeded in his object, would desire to get rid of me, I prevented him by leaving the country suddenly. I remained in foreign parts for three years. At the expiration of that period, I spread a report of my death. I managed so that the news should reach the Prince most naturally, and as a certain thing; then I returned here. The Prince never knew my name – we gentlemen adventurers have a custom not only of changing our alias frequently, for an incognito is a safeguard for us – but also of always wearing three or four at once, in order to establish a confusion about ourselves, through which we find ourselves in perfect safety; so that, in spite of his attempts, even if the Prince had made any, of which I am ignorant, he has not succeeded in learning my existence, much less in discovering me.'"

"'But for what object did you keep these letters?'"

"'The very simple one of employing them against him; so as to compel him by the fear of a revelation to supply me with the sums I might require, when I felt inclined to give up my perilous career. As I was suddenly surprised, I could not make the desired use of them, but now I do not regret it.'"

"'I thank you,' the Count replied, warmly; 'but cannot I do anything for you in your present extremity, as a recognition of so great a service?'"

"Red Arm looked cautiously around; in order to give the Count full liberty to converse with the condemned man, the chaplain and the two officers had retired into the most distant corner of the cell, where they seemed to be talking with great animation."

"'Alas, my lord!' he said, lowering his voice; 'It is too late now. I should have liked – '"

"'Speak, and possibly I may be able to satisfy this last desire.'"

"'Well, be it so. It is not death that terrifies me, but, mounting an ignoble scaffold, to be exposed alive to the laughter and insults of people whom I have so long seen tremble before me: this it is that troubles my last moments, and renders me unhappy. I should like to foil the expectations of the ferocious crowd, who are rejoicing in the hope of my punishment; and that, when the moment arrives, only my corpse should be found. You see clearly that you can do nothing for me, my lord.'"

"'You are mistaken,' he answered, quickly. 'I can, on the contrary, do everything. Not only will I spare you the punishment, but your two comrades, if they like, can escape it by a voluntary death.'"

"A flash of joy glittered in the convict's savage eye."

"'Are you speaking the truth?' he asked."

"'Silence!' said the Count; 'What interest could I have in deceiving you, when, on the contrary, my most eager desire is to prove my gratitude to you?'"

"'That is true; but in what way?'"

"'Listen to me. This ring I am wearing contains a poison of great subtlety. You have only to open the locket and inhale the contents to fall dead. This poison kills without suffering, and with the rapidity of lightning. One of my ancestors brought this ring from New Spain, where he was Viceroy. You are acquainted with the profound skill of the Indians in making poisons. Here is the ring; I offer it to you. Do you accept it?'"

"'Certainly!' he exclaimed, as he seized it, and quickly concealed it in his bosom. 'Thanks, my lord; you now owe me nothing, we are quits. You do more for me by the gift of this ring than I have done for you. Thanks to you, I and my poor comrades will be able to escape the ignominious fate that awaits us.'"

"They then went up to the other persons, who, on seeing the conversation ended, at once broke off their own."

"'Gentlemen,' said Red Arm, 'I thank you sincerely for having deigned to be present at the revelation which my conscience ordered me to make. Now I feel more tranquil. Only a few short moments separate me from death. Would it be asking too much to let me pass these few moments with my two comrades, who, condemned like myself, must also die today?'"

"'It is a last consolation,' said the chaplain."

"The governor of the prison reflected for a moment."

"'I see no inconvenience in granting you this request,' he at length said. 'I will give the necessary orders that your companions be brought here, and you will remain together till the moment of the execution.'"

"'Thanks, sir!' Red Arm gratefully exclaimed. 'This favour – the only one you could grant me, is of great value to me. Bless you for so much kindness!'"

"By the governor's order, the sentinel summoned the gaoler, who ran up and opened the dungeon."

"'Farewell, gentlemen,' said the convict; 'God be with you!'"

"They went out. The Count, after taking leave of the chaplain and the other two persons, left the prison, crossed the square, filled with an immense crowd, and hurried home. At this moment six o'clock struck. It was the hour appointed for the execution. Suddenly, as if by enchantment, a silence of death prevailed in this crowd, an instant before so noisy and agitated. Their vengeance was at length about to be satisfied."

CHAPTER XXV

THE AVENGER

"Immediately he reached home, the Count gave orders for his departure. He had completely forgotten the business for which he came to Bruneck: besides, had the business been even more important than it really was, it could not have retained him, so great was his anxiety to get away. Still, he was obliged to remain ten hours longer in the town. It was impossible to procure horses before three o'clock in the afternoon."

"He profited by this hindrance to take a little rest; in truth, he was utterly worn out with fatigue. He soon fell into so deep a sleep that he did not even hear the furious cries and vociferations of the crowd assembled in the square, on seeing that, instead of three criminals, whom they had so long awaited in order to enjoy their punishment, and satiate a vengeance so long desired, only three corpses were offered them. At the moment when the gaoler and officials entered the dungeon to lead the condemned men to the gallows, they only found their corpses; the men were quite dead. When the Count woke, all was over, the shops were opened again, and the town had reassumed its accustomed appearance. The Count enquired after his carriage, the horses had been put in and it was waiting at the door. The final preparations were soon made; the Count went down."

"'Where are we going, Excellency?' the postillion asked, hat in hand."

"'The Vienna road,' the Count replied, making himself as comfortable as he could in the corner of the carriage."

"The postillion cracked his whip, and they set off at full speed. The Count had reflected, and the following was the result of his reflections: – Only one person was powerful enough to render him thorough and prompt justice, that person was the Emperor. He must, consequently, apply to the Emperor, and that was the reason why he was going to Vienna. It is a long distance from Bruneck to Vienna; at that period, more especially when railways were only just beginning, and only existed in few places, journeys were long, fatiguing and expensive. This lasted twenty-seven days. The Count's first business on arriving, was to enquire after his Imperial Majesty; the court was at Schönbrunn. Now Schönbrunn, the Saint Cloud of the Austrian Emperors, is only a league and a half from Vienna. Still, not to lose precious time in false steps, he must obtain an audience with the Emperor as speedily as possible. Count Oclau was of too great a family to be kept waiting long; two days after his arrival in Vienna an audience was granted him. The palace of Schönbrunn stands, as we said, about a league and a half from Vienna, beyond the suburb of Maria itself and a little to the left. This imperial palace, commenced by Joseph I., and finished By Maria Theresa, is a simple, elegant, and graceful building, though not without a certain majesty. It is composed of a large main building with two wings, with a double flight of steps leading to the first floor; low buildings running parallel to the main edifice, serve as offices and stables, and are attached to the end of the east of the wings, leaving merely an aperture of about thirty feet, on either side of which stands an obelisk, which thus completes the courtyard. A bridge thrown across the Vienne, a thin stream of water which falls into the Danube, gives access to the palace, behind which extends in an amphitheatrical form, an immense garden, surmounted by a belvedere, placed on the top of a large grass plot, which is flanked on the right and left by magnificent coppices full of shadow, freshness, and twittering birds. Schönbrunn, rendered celebrated by Napoleon I. residing there twice, and by the painful death of his son, bears a stamp of indescribable sadness and languor, everything is gloomy, dull, and desolate; the court with its formal etiquette and brilliant parades only imperfectly succeeds at lengthened intervals, in galvanizing this corpse. Schönbrunn, like the palace of Versailles, is only a body without a soul, and nothing could restore it to life."

"The Count arrived at Schönbrunn ten minutes before his audience, which was fixed at noon. A chamberlain on duty awaited him, and at once introduced him to his majesty. The Emperor was in a private room, leaning upon a mantelpiece. The reception granted the Count was most affable. The audience was a long one, it lasted nearly four hours, no one ever learned what passed between the sovereign and the subject. The last sentence of this confidential interview was alone heard. At the moment when the Count took leave of the Emperor, his majesty said, while giving him his hand to kiss – "

"'I believe it will be better to act thus on behalf of the whole of the nobility, every effort must be made at any cost, to avoid the frightful scandal which the publicity of so horrible an affair would arouse; my support will never fail you. Go, my lord, and Heaven grant that you may succeed with the means I place at your service.'"

"The Count bowed respectfully, and retired. The same evening he left Vienna, and took the road which would lead him home. At the same time with him, a cabinet courier sent by the Emperor, started on the same road."

On reaching this point in his narrative, the adventurer paused, and addressing Count de la Saulay, asked him: – "Do you suspect what passed between the Emperor and the Count?"

"Nearly," the latter answered.

"Oh!" he said, in amazement; "I should be curious to know the result of your observations."

"You authorize me then to tell you?"

"Certainly."

"My dear Don Adolfo," the Count continued, "as you are aware, I am a nobleman; in France the king is only the first gentleman of his kingdom, the primus inter pares, and I suppose that it is much the same everywhere now; any attack upon one of the members of the nobility affects the sovereign as seriously as all the other nobles of the empire. When the Regent of France condemned Count de Hom to be broken alive on the wheel upon the Place de Grivé, for robbing and murdering a Jew in the Rue Quincampoix, he replied to a nobleman of the court, who interceded with him on behalf of the culprit, and represented to him that the Count de Hom, allied to reigning families, was his relative: 'When I have any bad blood, I have it taken from me;' and turned his back on the petitioner. But this did not prevent the nobility from sending their carriages to the execution of Count de Hom. Now, the fact you are talking about is nearly similar, with this exception, that the Emperor of Austria, less brave than the Regent of France, while allowing that justice ought to be dealt upon the culprit, recoiled from a publicity, which, according to his views, would brand a stigma of infamy upon the entire nobility of his country; hence, like all weak men, he satisfied himself with half measures, that is to say, he probably gave the Count a blank signature, by means of which the latter, on the first plausible pretext, might put down his noble relative, kill him, or even have him assassinated, without other form of trial, and in this way, obtain by the destruction of his enemy the justice he claimed; since, the Prince once dead, it would be easy to restore to his sister-in-law or her son, in the event of his being recovered, the titles and fortune which his uncle had so criminally appropriated. This, in my opinion, is what was arranged between the Emperor and the Count at the long audience granted at Schönbrunn."