The audacity of the man may be judged when it is known that he gave considerable accurate information. This was susceptible of confirmation, and the fact that it was confirmed by some of Mack’s subordinates only served to raise Schulmeister in the estimation of the Austrian. And all the while Napoleon was marshaling his forces in such a way that the escape of the enemy seemed impossible.
Presently it began to dawn on General Mack that something was wrong. Disquieting reports came from the outer defenses. The Austrian became genuinely disturbed. He sent for Schulmeister and questioned him regarding the previous “information” he had brought him, but the Alsatian went through the ordeal with flying colors. Indeed, he gave him one or two additional facts which were so transparently correct that it placed the spy above suspicion.
On the seventh of October the campaign of strategy on both sides came to a close. With Napoleon it had been a series of restless moves. With Mack it had been a period of marking time, of doing nothing.
Too late he realized his mistake. He hurried to the north and found that the French troops were lined up there in a solid phalanx; he turned to the south and discovered that his retreat was cut off there. The east and the west were in the same condition. The worst part of it was that these various lines were slowly but surely closing in on him. He could see now that the Corsican commander had been engaged in a vast enveloping campaign.
In a word, the great Napoleon had the Austrian army in a grip of steel!
Mack presented a pitiable sight, sitting there with his head between his hands, humiliated and remorseful—the victim of his own inactivity and his too confiding nature. The members of his staff gazed on the spectacle silently and not entirely with pity. From a distance Charles Louis Schulmeister also beheld the defeated Austrian chief. He felt, like the others, that it was all over but the shouting. The spy kept discreetly away from the immediate vicinity of the general and his staff. He knew very well that if his duplicity were discovered that he would, even then, be shot down like a dog. So he patiently awaited the arrival of the French troops.
But unexpectedly the situation seemed to change. It is an axiom of war that no chain is stronger than its weakest link. Napoleon had completely surrounded the Austrians and their allies, but there was one section where the French line was very thin—too thin indeed for French comfort. And while Mack was moping over his hard fate some of his more energetic officers had been making a closer investigation of the situation.
The sound of a horse’s hoofs was heard and an aide-de-camp galloped into the presence of Mack.
The officer alighted and saluted his chief.
“General,” he cried, “there is a weak link in the French lines about two miles to the south, and with a sufficient force we may be able to break through.”