“Come,” said the count to me, as soon as we had clearly made out the character of our visitors, “let us go down and see what this gentleman has to say.”
We made our way down the staircase—passing through openings which had been purposely left in the barricades, but which could be effectually closed in less than a minute—and accompanied by half-a-dozen of the most resolute and trusty of the count’s people, armed with musket and dagger, emerged through the great door upon the terrace, the steps leading to which the Frenchmen were just ascending. They were allowed to fairly reach the terrace, a distance of some thirty yards or so then intervening between us and them, when the count stepped forward, and, raising his hand, cried in French, in an authoritative voice,—
“Halt! I allow no body of armed men to approach my chateau any nearer than the spot where you now stand, without my first receiving an explanation of the reason for their presence. The officer in command may, however, come forward and state his business; but I warn you that, if the rest attempt to approach, my men will at once fire upon you.”
The Frenchmen halted, and the officer, after apparently giving his men some brief instructions in a low tone of voice, advanced towards us, raising his shako as he joined us, and saying,—
“Have I the honour to address Count Lorenzo di Paoli?”
“I am the individual whom you name,” replied the count. “To what circumstance am I indebted for the honour of this somewhat extraordinary visit?”
“I am instructed by General Lefevre, the officer in command of the forces now stationed at Ajaccio, to request your immediate attendance before him in reference to a matter closely affecting your own honour,” replied the Frenchman.
“As I have not the advantage of General Lefevre’s acquaintance, and cannot conceive what interest he can possibly have in any matter relating to my honour, you may go back to him, sir, and tell him I positively decline to accede to his request, which—to say the least of it—is a very singular one to make to a Corsican noble.”
“I regret to say that the general, anticipating the possibility of your refusal, has ordered me, in such a case, to arrest you. It is a disagreeable necessity, which I would much rather have avoided; but you leave me no alternative. Count Lorenzo di Paoli, I arrest you in the name of the National Assembly, on a charge of conspiracy,” answered the Frenchman, stepping forward and attempting to lay his hand on the count’s shoulder.
“Stand back, sir!” cried Count Lorenzo, stepping back a pace and levelling a pistol at the officer’s head. “I am fully acquainted with your general’s designs against me; and I decline to walk into the trap which he has set for me. I repudiate and defy his authority, which I will resist to the death; and you may go back and tell him so.”