There was present at that interview no one except 128 Count Saxe, General Bibikoff, Gaston Cheverny and myself. When Bibikoff’s bandage over the eyes was removed he found himself standing before Count Saxe, from whose eyes sparks seemed to be flying. And then in a voice that would have shriveled up an honest man as if he were a dead leaf, Count Saxe said:
“If I were not more generous than you I would poniard you on the spot. You would have enticed me to a place where I should have been bagged like a bird. Twelve hundred men against one! Thank you, my friend. Tell that to your commanding general, Lacy, and see what he will say to it.”
Bibikoff, barbarian that he was, withered under this reproof.
Count Saxe, however, controlled his anger enough to fool Bibikoff to the top of his bent. He pretended to be ready to surrender; asked for ten days in which to remove his baggage and ammunition—and Bibikoff consented. As a matter of fact, seven days more of work would have made us secure in that place for a year against any force that could be sent against us.
Bibikoff agreed, and actually looked ashamed when Count Saxe stipulated in writing that General Lacy’s signature should be secured before the agreement was binding, for he was not the man to trust to a scoundrel. Bibikoff also consented to that. General Lacy, he said, was two days’ march behind him, and that gave us two days more. Men have done marvels in two days.
We breathed freer. It was by that time near eleven o’clock. The sun takes long to sink in those far northern regions, and it was yet twilight. We dared not 129 resume our work until it grew darker; there were about four good hours of darkness between sun and sun.
While we were still standing on the terrace we saw a commotion on the mainland, and heard the trampling of many horses’ hoofs, as a body of cavalry appeared on the undulating plain; and there was a darker and more slowly moving mass of foot soldiers behind them.
Our hearts, that had been suddenly raised to heights of joy, sank to depths of woe. Such is war—one moment changes the face of all things. Then we heard the Russian trumpets calling to us again. For the third time that night Gaston Cheverny was sent across the lake. He returned with a letter from General Lacy; for he had overtaken Bibikoff, and was on the heels of him when supposed to be two days’ march behind.
Count Saxe read this letter in the same tower room where he had talked with Bibikoff. General Lacy knew Maurice of Saxe well. He knew that, give him ten days’ time and all the Russians, aided by Satan himself, could not make him surrender. So he wrote that Bibikoff’s arrangement was void; that Count Saxe must retire at daylight; that he, Lacy, declared upon his honor he had four thousand men at hand, and if compelled to attack, no quarter would be given. But Count Saxe was at liberty to retire, with a suite of not more than four persons; and in that case all his people would be paroled and would be allowed their personal arms and effects. General Lacy was a Scotchman, as Madame Riano had said, and was as shrewd as his countrymen generally are. He did not want the custody of Maurice of Saxe—to hold him was like holding a wolf by the 130 ears; and the best possible means were taken to induce Count Saxe to depart quietly—that threat of no quarter for his followers. Count Saxe read this letter without a change of countenance. In good fortune he was great; in evil fortune he was sublime. He was fleeing from a kingdom where he had expected to rule; he had to meet the laughter of that infernal town of Paris; he had to face, at some time, Monsieur Voltaire; but he was as cool, as smiling, as debonair, as ever I saw him. He merely said to us:
“General Lacy is a man of his word. We may believe all he says. If it were for the cause of honor, well might we all remain here, and die as becomes men. But the cause is the crown of Courland. For that, I can not see brave men put to the sword. I am for surrendering and departing.”