The Last Cavalier: Being the Adventures of Count Sainte-Hermine in the Age of Napoleon. Alexandre Dumas
stab himself, and you would like to see me die on the guillotine. I can understand that.’ His calm demeanor and sardonic words, spoken with no emotion, sent a shiver through the crowd.
“‘Well,’ Charles went on, ‘like a good sport I would like to die at your pleasure as much as at my own. I am prepared to have my head fall, but I wish to walk to the scaffold on my own, as if I were going to a meal or a ball, and, as an absolute condition, without anyone touching me. If anyone comes near’—he pointed to the two pistols in his belt—’I shall kill him. Except for this man,’ Charles continued, looking over to the executioner. ‘This business is between him and me, and proper procedures need to be followed.’
“The crowd seemed to accept the condition, for on all sides people shouted: ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’
“‘Do you hear?’ Charles addressed the officer of the gendarmerie. ‘Indulge me, Captain, and things will be fine.’
“The officer wanted nothing better than to make some concessions. ‘If I leave your hands and feet free,’ he said, ‘do you promise to attempt no escape?’
“‘I give you my word of honor,’ said Charles.
“‘Well, then,’ said the officer. ‘Move aside and let us carry off the bodies of your companions.’
“‘Yes, that’s only right,’ said Charles. Then, turning toward the crowd, he noted: “You see, it’s not my fault. I am not the cause of the delay; rather, these gentlemen are.’ He gestured toward the executioner and his two helpers loading the bodies on a cart.
“Ribier was not yet dead. He opened his eyes, as if he were looking for someone. Charles took his hand. ‘Here I am, good friend,’ he said. ‘Rest assured, I am joining you!’ Ribier’s eyes closed again; and his lips moved, but no sound came from them, only a reddish foam.
“‘Monsieur de Sainte-Hermine,’ said the brigadier when the three bodies had been removed. ‘Are you ready?’
“‘I await you, monsieur,’ Charles answered, bowing with exquisite politeness.
“‘In that case, please step forward.’ Charles moved to the middle of the gendarmes.
“‘Would you prefer to go by carriage?’ said the officer.
“‘By foot, monsieur. By foot. I want these people to know that I myself am allowing this extravaganza at the guillotine. Were I in a vehicle, people might think that fear kept me from walking.’
“The guillotine had been set up on the Place du Bastion. They crossed the Place des Lices, which takes its name from the carousel that stood there in older times, and then walked along the walls beside the gardens of the Hôtel Monbazon. The cart came first, then a detachment of ten dragoons. Then the condemned man, who now and then glanced over at me. Then, about ten paces behind, the gendarmes, led by their captain.
“At the end of the garden wall, the cortege turned to the left. And suddenly, through the opening between the garden and the grand hall, my brother caught a glimpse of the scaffold—and I could feel my own knees buckle. ‘Bah!’ he said. ‘I had never seen a guillotine. I did not realize they were so ugly.’
“Then, as quickly as a passing thought, he pulled the dagger from his belt and plunged it to the hilt into his chest.
“The captain spurred his horse and reached out to stop him, while the Comte pulled one of the double-barreled pistols from his belt and cocked it, saying: ‘Stop! We agreed that nobody would touch me. I will die alone, or three of us will die together. The choice is yours.’
“The captain stopped his horse and pulled it back.
“‘Let’s keep walking,’ said my brother.
“With my eyes fixed on my beloved brother and my ears straining to hear his every word as my mind recorded every gesture, I remembered again what Charles had written to Cadoudal: how he had refused to allow me to learn my military career at Cadoudal’s side; hoe he’d said that he was keeping me in reserve so that I could avenge his death and continue his work. I kept swearing under my breath that I would do what he expected of me, and from time to time a glance from him strengthened my resolve.
“In the meantime, he kept walking, blood dripping from his wound.
“When he reached the foot of the scaffold, Charles pulled the dagger from the wound and stabbed himself a second time. Still he remained standing. ‘Truly,’ he raged, ‘my soul must be firmly set in my body.’
“The helpers waiting on the scaffold removed the bodies of Valensolles, Jahiat, and Ribier from the cart. At the guillotine the heads of the first two, already corpses, fell without a single drop of blood. Ribier, though, let out a groan, and when his head was cut off, blood gushed out. The crowd shivered.
“Then it was my brother’s turn. As he waited he had kept his eyes on me almost constantly, even when the executioner’s assistants tried to pull him up onto the scaffold, and he said: ‘Don’t touch me. That was our agreement.’
“He climbed the six steps without stumbling. When he reached the platform, he pulled the dagger from his chest and stabbed himself a third time. He let out a horrible laugh that came accompanied by spurts of blood from all three wounds. ‘Well, that’s it,’ he said to the executioner. ‘That should be enough. Manage as best you can.’
“Then, turning to me, he cried, ‘Do you remember, Hector?’
“‘Yes, my brother,’ I answered.
“With no help, he lay down on the deadly plank. ‘There,’ he said to the executioner. ‘Is this acceptable?’
“The falling blade was the answer. But, filled with that implacable vitality that had kept my brother from dying at his own hand, his head, instead of falling into the basket with the others, bounced over its rim, rolled along the platform, and dropped to the ground.
“I burst through the row of soldiers restraining the crowd from the open space between them and the scaffold. As quickly as I could, before anyone could stop me, I picked up that dearly beloved head in my two hands and kissed it.
“His eyes opened and his lips moved beneath my own—Oh! I swear to God, his head recognized me. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ I said. ‘You can be sure that I will obey you.’
“The soldiers had made a movement to stop me, but several voices had shouted out: ‘It’s his brother!’ And all the soldiers stayed where they were.”
HECTOR HAD NOW BEEN speaking for two hours. Claire was weeping so profusely that he wasn’t sure he should continue. He paused. The tears pearling in his eyes showed what he was thinking.
“Oh, please go on! Go on!” she said.
“It would be according me a great favor,” he said, “for I have not yet said anything about myself.”
Claire reached out her hand to him. “How you have suffered,” she murmured.
“Wait,” he said, “and you will see that you are just the person to make me forget it all.”
“I didn’t know Valensolles, Jahiat, and Ribier very well, only by sight. But through their association with my brother, who had joined them in death, they were my friends. I gave them all a proper burial. Then I returned to Besançon. I put our family affairs in order and began to wait. What was I waiting for? I didn’t know what, only that it was something on which my fate would depend. I didn’t think it necessary that I go looking for it, but I felt compelled to be ready whenever it should come.
“One morning, the Chevalier de Mahalin was announced. I did not recognize the name, and yet in my