THE FOUR COMMISSIONERS
Under the escort of Karl von Waldenmeer and half a dozen of his French officers, Tournay and Gaillard rode rapidly toward the French boundary.
It had stopped snowing during the night, and the weather was clear and cold.
They rode in silence, no sound being heard but the regular dull beating of their horses' hoofs on the snow-covered ground.
They drew out of the wood and saw the frozen surface of the Rhine before them, the sun dazzling their eyes with its reflected light upon the ice.
With one accord the party reined in their horses and sat motionless, looking at the glorious sight of the ice-bound river.
Karl von Waldenmeer was the first to break the silence. Pointing with his gloved hand toward the opposite shore he said:—
"There, gentlemen, is France, and my road ends here."
Tournay merely made an inclination of the head in assent. He was thinking sadly of Edmé standing by the window in the cheerless old salon at Falzenberg; but as he looked out over the river towards his own land he remembered the army on the other side of the Vosges; the prospect of the impending campaign caused his spirits to revive, and he replied:—
"We owe you thanks, Colonel von Waldenmeer, for the kindness you have been pleased to show us. When we meet again it will doubtless be upon the field of battle, but I shall not even then forget your courtesy of to-day."
"It will always give me pleasure to meet you again, under any circumstances, Colonel Tournay," said the Prussian, "and if it be on the field, to cross swords with you. A brave foe makes a good friend, and I shall be glad to count you as both of these. And now, gentlemen, we will relieve you of our escort; there lies your way over that bridge, just below here. We return to Falzenberg."
"Let us cross upon the ice," said Gaillard to Tournay; "it will bear our weight easily."
They rode down the bank. At the brink their horses drew back, but being urged by their riders, went forward, feeling the ice daintily with their forefeet with cat-like caution. Seeing that the ice was quite safe, the Frenchmen put spurs into their horses and the animals swung into a gallop, their iron-shod feet cutting into the ice with a pleasant, crunching sound.
Reaching the further side, they rode up the steep bank, then reined in their horses and looked back. The declining rays of the sun tipped the snow-clad hemlock trees on the other side of the river with crimson, and against the dark outline of the forest behind, the figures of Colonel von Waldenmeer and his officers sat motionless as statues. Each party gave the military salute, and the Prussians rode back into the wood, while Tournay and Gaillard sat looking after them until they were no longer in sight.
"We are on French soil once more," exclaimed Tournay, "and now to join General Hoche and fight for it."
"I had best return to Paris," said Gaillard.
"I fear to have you return there now, after having put your head in danger by assisting me," said Tournay anxiously.
"I shall be as safe in Paris as anywhere in the world," replied his friend. "Nobody will suspect the actor Gaillard of having any connection with the flight of Mademoiselle de Rochefort. I cannot do better than to return to Paris and resume my usual mode of life there. While, if you are suspected, as is more likely, of instigating or effecting Mademoiselle de Rochefort's escape from Tours, you must look to your military reputation and your influence in the convention to protect you from an inquiry on the part of the rabid revolutionists."
"What you say, Gaillard, is sound reasoning. I will follow your advice. Embrace me, my friend, and let us part here."
"Good-by until we meet again, my colonel!" was Gaillard's only audible reply, and then he rode off toward the west, while Tournay turned his horse in the direction of the north, where the French troops lay encamped.
It was about noon of the next day when he reached the French army, and stopping only at his own tent to put on his uniform he hurried to the headquarters of General Hoche and reported for duty. He had traveled so rapidly from Tours that he reached the army almost as soon as General Hoche expected him, and the general attributed the delay of a day or so to the bad condition of the roads.
Tournay hesitated to set him right in the matter, as he deemed it more prudent to refrain from mentioning to anyone his part in Mademoiselle de Rochefort's escape.
"What news do you bring from the convention?" was the question of the general as they were seated alone.
"Bad!" replied Tournay, "as you can tell by the tone of these dispatches. The convention has many able men in it, but they are dominated too entirely by the Revolutionary Tribunal, and that body is dominated too much by one man. His power is ruining the Republic. Unless we get rid of Robespierre, we might as well go back to the monarchy."
After a few moments spent in reading the papers Tournay had put in his hand, General Hoche looked up with an expression of annoyance on his brow.
"Yes; the insulting tone of this dispatch is almost beyond endurance. I am glad after all that my business is out here fighting the external enemies of France. Were I at Paris, I should be embroiling myself daily with some of those who are in power. If we meet with the slightest reverses here at the front there is a howl from St. Just and that crowd that we are betraying the Republic. Meanwhile they furnish us with a beggarly equipment. It is they who are betraying the Republic. Were it not for Danton we should get nothing. He alone makes success against our enemies possible. And we must be successful, Colonel Tournay; look here at the plan of campaign."
And the young general, in his military ardor, forgetting entirely the insulting dispatch, turned with enthusiasm to the maps which lay spread out on the table.
"Here are the bulk of the Austrian forces at Wissembourg. That old German beer-barrel von Waldenmeer is at Falzenberg. He intends to concentrate his troops there and then bring them up to join the Austrian general, Wurmser."
Tournay started at his own general's accurate information in regard to the enemy's position and plans.
"We must attack Wurmser at once before he can receive reinforcements, and then proceed to Landau. They have beaten us once at Wissembourg and will not be looking for us to take the offensive again so soon. I have already given the order to mobilize the troops. I and my staff will ride forward this evening. By to-morrow night we shall have retaken Wissembourg."
"One moment, general," interrupted Tournay, as Hoche took up another map. "I wish to tell you that I have just seen General von Waldenmeer at Falzenberg."
Hoche looked at his officer with surprise.
"I went to the Prussian frontier on an errand, the nature of which I should prefer to keep secret for the present. I was suspected of being a spy, taken prisoner, and brought before General von Waldenmeer. He listened to my explanations and released me under circumstances no less peculiar than those which brought me within his lines." Here Tournay stopped, the blood coming to the surface under the bronze of his cheek at the steady gaze of General Hoche.
"Is that all?" inquired the latter.
"That is all," answered his colonel, "except that had I not made this detour I should have been here twenty-four hours earlier, and that as I got within the Prussian lines by mistake and did not go as a spy, I can give you no information which you have not already obtained."
"If you had arrived twenty-four hours later you would have missed the grandest opportunity of your life; I intend to give you, Colonel Tournay, the command of a brigade in the approaching battle."
"A brigade?" echoed Tournay in surprise.
"You shall atone for your breach of discipline by bearing great responsibility in the attack. I intend your brigade to be where the fight is hottest, and if there is anything left of it after the engagement, and of you, colonel, you shall continue to command it and I will recommend you for promotion."
Tournay grasped his chief by the hand.
"You may be sure, General Hoche, that I shall do my utmost to deserve the honor you have done me."
"I was persuaded of that before I determined to give you the command," replied Hoche; "now go forward and join your regiment. By midnight I shall be at Wissembourg and shall have one last word with all of my generals. I do not believe in protracted councils of war."
That evening Colonel Tournay was encamped before the field of Wissembourg. He sat in his tent waiting for the summons that should bring him to General Hoche's council board.
An orderly entered with the word that a commission of four men from the Committee of Public Safety at Paris wished to speak to him.
Tournay started from the reverie into which he had fallen. His thoughts had been dwelling upon the events of the past week, and the announcement struck a discordant note in his meditation. "Show them in," he replied briefly.
In another moment the four commissioners stood before him. Three of the men were unknown to him, but the fourth was Gardin. The latter, as spokesman, stood a little in advance of the others. On his face there was a look of mingled insolence and triumph.
Tournay's gorge rose at sight of the man, but remembering that he was the recognized emissary from the committee he controlled his impulse to kick him from the tent.
"Will you be seated, citizens?" he said, rising and addressing his remark more to the three commissioners who were not known to him than to Gardin. "Orderly, bring seats."
"Our business with you will be of such short duration that we shall have no need to sit down," answered Gardin curtly.
"Orderly, do not bring the seats," was Tournay's quick order, as he resumed his former place on a camp-chair and sat carelessly looking at the four men standing before him. This placed Gardin in just the opposite rôle from that he had intended to assume. He saw his mistake at once, and hastened to recover his lost ground.
"Citizen colonel," he said, drawing a paper from his pocket and putting it in Tournay's hands, "here is a document from the committee which even you cannot question. It is addressed to Robert Tournay."
Tournay broke the large red seal of the letter and read:—
Citizen Colonel Robert Tournay; with the Army of the Moselle, Citizen General Lazare Hoche commanding:—
The Citizen Colonel Tournay is hereby summoned to appear before the Committee of Public Safety to answer charges affecting his patriotism and loyalty to the Republic. He will resign his command at once, and return to Paris in the company of the four commissioners who bring him this document.
Signed: For the Committee of Public Safety,
Couthon,
St. Just.This 5th Pluviose, the year II. of the French Republic one and indivisible.
When he had finished reading the document Tournay folded it carefully and placed it in his pocket.
"Well?" demanded Gardin impatiently.
"I cannot at present leave the army," was the reply.
The four commissioners exchanged looks.
"We are on the eve of a decisive engagement with the enemy. When that is over—in a few days, if I am alive, I will answer the committee's summons."
"We were instructed to bring you back with us at once," said one of the commissioners.
"And we'll do it, too," muttered another under his breath.
The fourth pulled Gardin by the sleeve and whispered something in his ear.
"I regret, citizen commissioners," repeated Tournay, "that I cannot at present leave the army."
Then rising suddenly and confronting Gardin he said passionately:—
"Tell your masters that it is not necessary to drag Robert Tournay to Paris like a felon, that he will appear before the committee of his own free will; that he regards the welfare of France as paramount to everything else, and that his duty to her will take him to the field to-morrow."
"Your answer is not satisfactory to us," persisted Gardin, "nor will it be to the committee. Once more, and for the last time, citizen colonel, will you obey this summons as it is written?"
"No!" thundered Tournay.
"Then in the name of the Republic I suspend you from your command, and arrest you as a traitor. Lay hands upon him!"
Gardin himself, remembering his previous encounter with Tournay in which he had come off so poorly, merely gave the command, leaving the others to execute it. Two of them stepped forward with alacrity, one upon each side of Tournay, and grasped him by the arms.
He offered no resistance, but raising his voice a little called out:—
"Officers of the guard!"
Half a dozen of his Hussars who were in the adjoining tent hastened in at his call.
"Arrest these four men!" commanded Tournay quietly.
"Stop!" cried Gardin; "arrest us at your peril. We are the authorized emissaries of the Committee of Public Safety," and he flourished his commission in the soldiers' faces. "We are but carrying out our strict orders. To lay hands upon us will be to bring down upon your heads the vengeance of Robespierre."
The Hussars stood still. The name of the man who governed France under the cloak of the Republic made them hesitate.
"Conduct the prisoner away with as much dispatch as possible," said Gardin in a quick, low tone to his companions.
"Lieutenant Dessarts, arrest these four men instantly," repeated Tournay. There was a ring in his voice which his subordinates well understood, and without further hesitation they laid hands upon the Paris commissioners and proceeded to drag them from the tent by force.
"He has been relieved of his command and therefore has no right to give you orders. Are you slaves that you obey him thus?" yelled Gardin, struggling with the big corporal who held him.
"See that no harm is done them, Lieutenant Dessarts," Tournay called out as the men were led away. "Conduct them outside our lines and give orders that they shall not be permitted to return."
Following them to the door of his tent, Tournay coolly watched the unhappy commissioners as they were led away, protesting vehemently against the indignity of their arrest and vowing vengeance for it.
It was a cold winter night, and the wind blew down through the mountain passes of the Vosges with biting keenness. Throwing his cloak over his shoulder he strolled out through the camp. In spite of the chilling wind the soldiers showed the greatest enthusiasm. As he went down the long line of camp-fires, he was recognized and cheered roundly. Cries of "We'll beat them at Wissembourg to-morrow, colonel!" "Landau or death!" greeted him on all sides.
The next day showed that they had not uttered vain boasts.
Tournay's command, sweeping through a narrow defile in the face of a destructive fire, tore through the enemy's centre, and combining with Dessaix on the left, and Pichegru on the right, sent Wurmser's troops backward before his Prussian allies could come to his assistance.
With the cry of "Landau or death!" the victorious French dashed on toward the beleaguered city and raised the siege just as the brave garrison was in the last extremity for want of food and ammunition.
The day after the relief of Landau, Colonel Tournay entered the tent of the commander-in-chief. Hoche rose to meet him, and taking him by the hand said warmly:—
"Colonel Tournay, in the name of France I thank you for the efficiency and bravery displayed yesterday. The victory of Wissembourg will live in the annals of history, and a full share of the glory belongs to you. In my dispatches to the convention I have not omitted to mention your noble conduct."
The generous Hoche pressed the hand of his colonel in fraternal feeling. He was two years younger than Tournay, although care and fatigue gave him the looks of an older man. At twenty-four this remarkable man had risen to be preëminently the greatest general in France, and but for his premature death might in later years have contested with Napoleon for his laurels.
"I have come, general, to ask your permission to return to Paris," said Tournay, much gratified by the words of praise from the lips of one whom he regarded as the greatest military hero of the age.
"Again?" said Hoche, in a tone of surprise.
"The Committee of Public Safety have seen fit to summon me to appear before them," Tournay continued. "Some one has been found to impeach my loyalty, and I must answer the charge."
A shade passed over the face of Hoche.
"But I can ill spare you, Colonel Tournay. What does this committee mean by suspecting the integrity of an officer in whom I have implicit faith? By Heaven, I will not permit it! If they arrest you, I'll throw my commission back in their faces before I will allow you to answer their charges."
"That, my general, would but work injury to France, who depends upon such a man as you to save her. You surely will not desert her because a few overheated brains at Paris have seen fit to listen to some of my traducers. I will go back to Paris and confront my enemies. My conduct at Wissembourg will be an answer to their charge of treason." And the colonel drew himself up with a flash of pardonable pride in his dark eyes.
"You may be right," replied Hoche, "but I would not trust them. The reputation which your conduct at Wissembourg will create for you will make them jealous, and they will whisper it about that your popularity renders you dangerous. I know them. They become jealous of any man's reputation. They will have me before the bar of their tribunal as soon as they feel that they can spare me."
And Hoche laughed scornfully as he uttered the prophecy which was so soon to be fulfilled.
"I have no fear but that I shall be able to satisfy them as to loyalty," replied Tournay, smiling at the absurdity of the great and popular Hoche pleading before the tribunal.
"Well, go if you will, but understand, Tournay, that if you refuse to obey this summons, I will protect you. They shall bring no fictitious charges against a trusted officer in my army without entering into a contest with me."
"I thank you again, my general, but I will not permit you to embroil yourself with the committee on my account. You are too indispensable to France. Now I will take the leave of absence you accord me. In ten days you may look for my return."
General Hoche shook his head as Tournay left his presence:—
"I fear it will be longer than that, my friend," he sighed to himself.
Colonel Tournay, accompanied by but one orderly, rode toward Paris. The feelings of pride and pleasure which his general's praise had raised in his heart were subdued by the humiliation at being summoned before the Committee of Public Safety. But there was a fire in his eye, and a hardening of the lines near the mouth which boded that he would not submit tamely to insult nor an unjust sentence.