The Last Cavalier: Being the Adventures of Count Sainte-Hermine in the Age of Napoleon. Alexandre Dumas
began to laugh. “Not precisely,” he said.
“‘“Well, then,” I went on, “you must be attached to the administration.”
“‘“Attached,” he repeated, and laughed again. “Yes, that’s right, you have chosen the right word, monsieur. However, I am not attached to the administration; I am attached to myself.”
“‘“But,” I said, lowering my voice, “you are using formal address with me, and you even called me monsieur out loud. Are you not afraid that you might lose your place?”
“‘“Ah! Say, Captain,” the young man in the white coat shouted, “this young citizen is afraid I might lose my place because I’m still using formal address and am calling him monsieur. Do you know anyone who would like to have my place? If so, I bow to such a man.”
“‘“Poor fellow!” the captain muttered with a shrug.
“‘“Say, young man,” my traveling companion said, “since you are from Besançon—and you are from there, are you not?”
“‘I nodded that I was.
“‘“Then you must know the Sainte-Hermine family.”
“‘“Yes,” I answered. “A widow and three sons.”
“‘“Three sons. Yes, that’s right,” he added with a sigh. “There are still three of them. Thank you. How long has it been since you left Besançon?”
“‘“Scarcely seven or eight days ago.”
“‘“So you can give me any recent news?”
“‘“Yes, but it’s sad news as well.”
“‘“Go on, tell me.”
“‘“The evening before I left, we went, my father and I, to the countess’s funeral.”
“‘“Ah!” the young man said, raising his eyes to the heavens, “the countess has died!”
“‘“Yes.”
“‘“It’s for the best.” He raised his eyes again, and two large tears rolled down his cheeks.
“‘“What do you mean, it’s for the best?” I objected. “She was a saintly woman.”
“‘“All the more reason,” the young man replied. “Was it not better for her to die from illness rather than from the sadness of learning that her son went before the firing squad?”
“‘“What?” I cried. “The Comte de Sainte-Hermine has been shot?”
“‘“No, but he will be.”
“‘“When?”
“‘“When we get to the fortress at Auenheim.”
“‘“So the Comte de Sainte-Hermine is in the fortress?”
“‘“No, but that is where they are taking him.”
“‘“And he’ll be shot?”
“‘“As soon as I get there.”
“‘“Are you the one charged with the execution?”
“‘“No, but I shall give the order to fire. They never refuse that favor to a good soldier taken with arms in hand, even if he is an émigré.”
“‘“Oh, my God!” I cried in horror. “Are…?”
“‘Again, the young man burst into laughter. “That is why I laughed when you were asking me to be careful. That is why I was proposing my place to anyone who might want it, for I had no fear of losing it. As you were saying, I am indeed attached!” And only then, with a shake of his shoulders to open his coat, did he show me his bound hands and two arms attached behind him.
“‘“But then,” I cried in terror, “you are.…”
“‘“The Comte de Sainte-Hermine, young man. You see that I was correct in saying that it was better for my poor mother to die.”
“‘“Oh, my God,” I cried.
“‘“Fortunately,” the Comte went on, his teeth clenched, “my brothers are still alive.”
“In one voice, we both shouted yes, my brother and I, and vowed that we’d avenge him,” said Hector.
“So,” Mademoiselle de Sourdis asked, “that was your brother they were going to shoot?”
“Yes,” Hector answered. “Is it enough for you to know the result, or would you like to know the details of his final moments? These details, each word of which made our own hearts beat doubly faster, may be of slight interest to you, since you never knew poor Léon.”
“Oh, on the contrary, tell me everything,” Mademoiselle de Sourdis cried out. “Don’t leave out a single word. Was not Monsieur Léon de Sainte-Hermine a relative of mine, and do I not have the right to follow him all the way to his tomb?”
“That is exactly what we said to my young friend Charles.”
“‘You can imagine,’ young Charles continued, ‘how upset I was to learn that the man walking beside me, a man full of youth who could speak so lightly of events, was going to die. And that he was a compatriot, the head of one of our most important families, the Comte de Sainte-Hermine.
“‘“Is there no way to save you?” I whispered.
“‘“Frankly, I have to say that I don’t see any,” he answered. “If I did, I’d try it without wasting another second.”
“‘“Although I’m unable to offer you any great service, I would like to be useful to you in some way, and while I can’t save you from death, perhaps I can at least make your death less painful, to help you somehow in the face of it.”
“‘“Since I first saw you I have been turning an idea over in my head.”
“‘“Tell me what it is.”
“‘“There may be some danger, and I don’t want it to frighten you.”
“‘“I’m ready to do anything to serve you.”
“‘“I would like to send news to my brother.”
“‘“I take it upon myself to do it for you.”
“‘“It’s a letter.”
“‘“I shall take it to him.”
“‘“I could give it to the captain. He’s a good man; he would probably have it sent to its destination.”
“‘“With the captain,” I answered, “it’s only probable. With me, it’s certain.”
“‘“Well, then, listen carefully.” I stepped closer, and he said, “The letter has already been written; it’s sewn into my cap.”
“‘“Very well.”
“‘“You must ask the captain for permission to be present at my execution.”
“‘“Me!” I answered, and my forehead broke out in cold sweat.
“‘“Don’t dismiss the idea out of hand. An execution is always interesting. Many people attend them simply for the enjoyment of it.”
“‘“I haven’t the courage.…”
“‘“Come now. Everything happens so quickly.”
“‘“I couldn’t! Never!”
“‘“Let’s say nothing more about it then,” said the count. “All you need to tell my brothers, if you happen to run into them, is that we met as they were about to send me to