CHAPTER XXXVII
LOOT
I now enter on the final struggle, but before doing so I must recapitulate if only to remind myself of where stands the tale and how much yet remains to be told.
It was on the 21st of May and a Sunday. In Paris the lucky Ducatel of the Roads and Bridges was guiding into the city the first division of Vinoy's army under the astonished eyes of Thiers and Mac-Mahon who were looking down from Mont Valerien.
There were in Paris in the Tuileries garden thousands who had come to listen to a concert for the wounded of the Commune. Disarray, and a muddling purblindness, kept the Commune talking and talking in the Hôtel de Ville. But the men there at least were honest as other men, and when they became exiles and prisoners they had brought no spoil away with them. Men there were among them who, in the midst of the wholesale slaughter of the Versailles troops, were ready to shoot hostages as did Rigaut and Ferré, or to burn public buildings when driven out, as the Russians did at Moscow—but no thieves.
But nowhere, save in one or two towns in the Midi, had the inhabitants to taste the rule of cosmopolitan rascaldom. The Chanot gang made hardly any pretext now, even before the people. The band which ruled Aramon still called itself the Committee of Public Safety, and still met daily at the town house. But all the men knew that they might just as well have been named "The Black Band" or the "Gang of Cartouche."
A few belonged to the town and its bordering hamlets—Chanot, Auroy, Grau. But the great majority were adventurers of all grades and nations, come from far, and eager to secure and carry away as much booty as possible from the turmoil. From amongst these, Chanot, quietly ripening his plans, picked out his attacking force. Each had his price, and Chanot chose those younger men, almost lads, who being still apprentices would be content with less, and at the critical moment would not be so likely to get out of hand.
The Château and the Factories were held as before, but now more strongly, being strengthened by the steady flood-tide of a public opinion which of all things desired peace. Dennis held to his determination to allow none but his English, Scots, Irish, and Americans within the walls. But even this self-denying prohibition strengthened him and brought other men to his side. The Committee of Public Safety arrested one or two who were over free with their tongues in the public debates of the cafés. But the prisoners were soon released, the measure being as useless as unpopular. Besides, they had something else to think about, these patriots of the loot-bag and the pince-monseigneur.
For all that Chanot made speeches and signed manifestos which were duly posted. A collection of these is under my eyes as I write, and forms one of the most amazing monuments of human impudence it is possible to conceive.
"The work of Social equalisation continues." (Such was the edict promulgated on this fateful Sunday.) "The ill-gotten gains of the robbers of the proletariat are slowly being added to the sums held in trust for the people. The Quartier St. Jacques began to be visited last week and the results were so excellent that further perquisitions will be made by our admirable expropriation brigade.
"The citizens of Aramon are therefore freed from all taxes of every sort, and the public service of every kind will be carried on with the suborned wealth restored to its proper owners.
"During the strike at Creusot, that great oppressor of the people, Schneider, declared that the stoppage of work was costing him eight hundred thousand francs a day!—We may make ourselves happy that the present strike for which we are responsible is costing at least as much to Deventer and the bloodthirsty Company which he represents. Let him not flatter himself because he has escaped so long. His time is near at hand and his doom terrible and sure.
"A. Chanot,
"P. Chardon, &c.
"For the Committee of Public Safety.
"The Mairie, Aramon-les-Ateliers.
"May 21st, 1871."
But on the Monday the proclamation of Thiers to the Mayors of Communes throughout France, sent on the Sunday night of the entry, reached Aramon. The text may be given, since the effect was so tremendous and, indeed, cataclysmic.
"Versailles, 21st May, 7.30, evening.
"The gate of St. Cloud has been forced by the fire of our batteries. General Douai precipitated his command into the breach. At this moment he is occupying Paris with his troops. Ladmirault and Clinchant are moving in support.
"A. Thiers.."
The message was false in detail, though true in the main fact. A full week's hard fighting in the streets of Paris lay between the army of Versailles and the end of the revolt.
But none of those who in the Mairie of Aramon-les-Ateliers bent their heads over the flimsy message doubted for a moment that the day of their own doom was at hand. They began to think of the best means of reaching the most convenient frontier--Italy, Switzerland, or Spain. Some were limited in their choice, owing to previous troubles with the justice of otherwise eligible countries. But all, without exception, knew that the game was up and resolved on flight. Unfortunately the receipts of the Quartier St. Jacques had not come up to expectation, and a general blankness overspread the company till Anton Chanot hinted at a final scheme which would make them rich enough to live years in the safe seclusion of Barcelona or Genoa. He did not tell all he had planned at once. He wished to take only a chosen few into his inner secrets, but he could not make a raid which would involve an armed attack upon the soil of a hostile department without the whole force at this disposal.
Chanot therefore flashed before the eyes of the committee promises of boundless loot to be attained by attacking the rich foundation of St. André on the hill over Aramon le Vieux. The church was an ancient one and the treasury had long been one of the sights of the neighbourhood--gold cups, patens, ciboires, boxes of inlaid thirteenth-century work, and the jewelled pastoral staff of the saint himself, ablaze with precious stones--all were there, and of a value which would make them rich men, and render their exile, so long as they chose to remain, agreeable and easy.
They must refrain, Chanot added, from any disturbance or looting in the town itself. If the monks fought, care must be taken of the school, and the safes in the économe's office, and the treasure of the golden vessels in the church must alone be touched.
Marseilles was under military law and had been declared in a state of siege. The troops of General Espivent de la Villeboisnet occupied the city and constituted a barrier not to be passed. No rogue's paradise could be found in Marseilles under martial law.
The expedition into the department of Deux Rives, and the attack upon St. André, was therefore their last chance, and it was a great one, of a comfortable exile.
Chanot and Chardon counted their adherents who could be trusted, who numbered about thirty, all proven men--not an old "Red," a theoretic Communard or a National Guard among them. They were chary even of any whose families were connected with the Small Arms Factory, for the business must be gone about with the most perfect secrecy.
Meantime Chanot took Chardon more fully into his confidence.
"We will let these fools thresh away at the walls of the lycée. I know a professor there who has a good knowledge of defence. That business will keep them busy all night. Renard is the man's name. He was in the Algerian wars--grand high priest he was, or something like that. But they say that he kilted his petticoats and charged with the regiment. He will be a hard nut to crack if they get out of bed quick enough to man the walls."
"But," suggested Chardon, "our business is to take the place before the man is awake. They will keep no watch."
"Monks and priests are always about at night in a place like St. André. They have midnight Masses, and they take turns to play the spy on the boys and ushers. Besides" (he beckoned Chardon closer to him and spoke in his ear) "we do not want them to finish the business too soon!"
"How so?" cried Chardon, much astonished; "the sooner we get our treasure back the sooner we can divide it and scatter out of Aramon. The game is up."
"Up, indeed--I believe you," said Chanot; "but what are some fragments of gold plate? How will they divide those? There will be a battle royal if it comes to that. Do you want to be there and go running helter-skelter over the fields with that rabble? No, you and I have something better on hand. I know where Keller Bey is, his treasure and his daughter!"
Chardon looked his amazement, but he did not interrupt. Chanot was a kind of god to him, and it had always been his chief pride to be chosen as his confidant.
"No," said the Expropriator-in-Chief, "we will choose two other fellows as determined as ourselves, only more stupid. We will attack the house where Keller Bey lies. I do not know exactly where it is, but I have a guide ready--Matteo le Gaucher, you know him? Well, that does not matter. He has been in hospital but is able for his task now. I have been cooking him with talk and tobacco all through his illness, and I wormed the secret out of him. He was not unwilling. I think he was glad of somebody to confide in, or else he had some vengeance on hand. He is a little twisted atomy and thinks himself at war with all the world."
"Can you trust him?" demanded Chardon.
"Yes, with a pistol at his ear and a hand on his arm. Otherwise I should as soon think of trusting him as a Protestant pastor!"
Chardon grinned delightedly and they began to lay out their plans. They chose the pair who were to share the secret with them.
"We want men of action, not gabblers like Barrès. I have a boat ready at Les Saintes to take us off, we must get fellows who can ride, for if we are pursued we must borrow horses and make straight across the Camargue."
"Leduc is of that country," said Chardon, "he could guide us, and Violet was a rough-rider in the eleventh hussars."
"But are they men to trust?" demanded Chanot, with a sharp suspicion. A man of the country and an ex-cavalryman might account for Chardon and himself in that wild country and no one be any the wiser. Besides, who would trouble themselves about the fate of a couple of fleeing outlaws?
"They are as good as you will get," said Chardon, "and we shall be more than their match in any case. They cannot get the boat without you, and without a boat on the coast of Les Saintes a man is like an eel in a trap. He can get in but he cannot get out."