THE ESCAPE
I regained consciousness upon a real bed. Some people were near me. My jailer, with a softened expression, was handing me a cup of soup. I closed my eyes and realized that some one raised the sheet covering me and searched over my almost nude body for a birthmark. A voice said, "Thank God, it is he!" and human lips pressed my cadaverous hands.
The tower's warden said affably as he took his leave:
"Assure the Empress that he shall be well cared for."
A man near me murmured "Courage, courage, your Majesty."
My eyes opened and I clasped Montmorin in my arms.
"Your Majesty,"—he began, and I interrupted:
"Do not address me so, Eugene. Do not apply titles to a wretched outcast. I wish to strip myself of the personality which has caused my martyrdom."
"Well, then, Charles," said Montmorin "I have sought you for four years."
"Four years!" I exclaimed. "Did I remain four years in the Black Hole?"
"I had no clue," said my friend. "I believed you dead, and through indifference concerning my own life, I enlisted in Napoleon's army. The execution of the Due d'Enghien and the conspiracy of Cadouval (of which I shall presently tell you) filled me with such indignation that I resolved to present my resignation. Just then the Empress sent for me. In a secret interview she informed me that you were in Vincennes dungeon and commissioned me to rescue you. Her hand pushed aside the obstacles between us."
"Blessed be the creole!" I cried.
"Not so fast, Charles. She seeks only her security. Her lord, who is also the lord of Europe, seems to be considering the advisability of relegating her to some corner of his Babylonic Empire, because of her barrenness. She looks upon you as a fine card to play at the opportune moment. Napoleon has forgotten your existence. He is too busy with his conquests to even think of you. Here in prison, your name is No. 86. Josephine pretends that you are the nephew of a Martinique woman with whom she has a friendship. She does not desire your liberty because it is preferable that you should be where she may at any time lay a hand upon you. But I shall free you, though that must be postponed, as you are now so weak."
I was bathed and cleanly clad. Nourishing and abundant food was given me daily and I was gently tended by Armande, the jailer's excellent daughter. Montmorin cut off my long hair and tangled beard, and, on viewing myself in the mirror, I realized that the cruel operation, whose object had been to disfigure me, had been frustrated by the darkness of the dungeon. I should, otherwise, have been marked as with the pits of that dreadful malady, the smallpox, and been changed past all recognition.
I was born again. The pure blood of Austria and Lorraine had successfully combated what appeared invincible obstacles. Montmorin, who through motives of caution, visited me only twice during my convalescence, was one day overjoyed on seeing my hard rounded flesh and observed that it was time to discuss our flight. I was on the second floor of one of the four towers which flank the historic castle. The windows facing toward the fort were not very high from the ground. If the grating were filed, 'twould be a simple matter to swing down to the bridge spanning the ditch over which the soldiers walked in leaving the fortress. This route of exit was chosen by the soldiers in order to avoid the trouble of raising the portcullis, and it existed through the culpable negligence of the chief; otherwise, I should never have been able to have accomplished my escape. The only necessary precaution was that of selecting an auspicious hour of the night in which to swing down to the ditch, cross the narrow plank and join Montmorin in the woods beyond, awaiting me with a pair of good horses. I had an English file for the severing of my iron bars, also a rope and a dagger. All these I kept upon my body during the day and in my bed at night. I anxiously counted the hours that must pass before my escape and constantly developed my muscles by gymnastic exercises. Each night I cut through one bar of the grating. I feared that Armande, who was as kind to me as her father was indifferent, might suspect my intention. I therefore adopted toward her the most affectionate demeanor. I praised her beauty and then I realized that she was indeed beautiful. The wine of youth rose in me like a splendid springtide and when Armande trembled in my arms I regretted that I must so soon leave her.
Thérèse, I know that your austere virtue makes no capitulation to what you would call the sentimental delinquencies of the heart. But to me a woman's breast is more necessary than bread or water. That simple girl loved me in the abandonment of her feminine pity, which is, my chaste sister, the holiest passion of humanity.
One day she responded to my caresses with the words:
"I know you are preparing to escape. I will help you, and if a cannon were to announce your flight, I should crawl into its mouth to retard the explosion."
When at last arrived the moment, preconcerted with Montmorin, she clung to me affectionately until the whistle of our accomplice sounded across the ditch. Then, securing the rope securely, she watched me descend, her low sweet voice bidding me Godspeed. I ran in a frenzy to Montmorin. We sprang into our saddles and sped away.