THE STORY-TELLER. The Substitute. (From the French.)

Evening Post, Volume LX, Issue 72, 22 September 1900, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE STORY-TELLER. The Substitute. (From the French.)

Near the village of Paterswalde a ridge of rising ground cut the sky-lino at an angle, and on its highest point a mounted sentinel sat grimly motionless, a caroine on thigh, his figure silhouetted against the summer night. Behind him lay the picket, and, still farther to the rear, the Grand Armee was sleeping around the little town 5 with Napoleon in its midst. Th© ridge sloped down to a broad causeway, the high road to Konigsberg, and in the distance, dimly seen through the light mist that veiled the fertile plains of Prussia, other sentries dotted tha rising ground, watching the highway with all their eyes and ears. Less than a pistol shot from the Hussar v«dette three mep .on horseback whispe.-ec" in their saddles, peering up at him through the boughs of the copse that sheltered them. "What do you make of him, Margadel 'i Is he on guard V" "No, a Chasseur of the line, or possibly a Hussar — their shakos are almost identical." "Well, what is to be done The night is speeding. We must not delay." "Leave that to me general. lam going to view him at closer quarters !" And the speaker quickly unbuckled his swordbelt, and silently dismounted from his horse. Creeping, pausing, now on his hands and knees, now lying flat on his stomach, gliding snake-like through the flowering grasses, the man on foot was worming his way towards the man on horseback. Had it been day one would have seen tow like in feature and in build the two men were — the motionless sentinel and the crouching spy silently nearing him with mouth hard set, and a knife fastened in his girdle. The same regular features, the same curling hair, each with a brown moustache twisted up at the corners, and the same gray eyes that had once opened at day-dawn side by side in tho twins' cradle. "Seraphine, what is it you hear?" says the trooper caressingly. "Steady, ma belle !" And the whispered words had saved him. ' The springi falls shorb, the blow loses its power, the blade of the brother's knife shreds off some of the white braiding and gray sheepskin from the trooper's brown pelisse, and the deep voice suddenly exclaims : "Mon Dieu, Galston ! Is it thou?" The two men looked at each other, the one bending down in his saddle, the other standing up close to the mare's shoulder. "Why in that dress, Cyprien'/" said the Hussar, pointing to the uniform of a Russian infantry officer which the Frenchman wore. "Hush, Gaston, speak lower ; sound travels far on a night like this. I will tell the©, but please have the goodness to keep the muzzle of that carbine out of my ear. "I and my companions — two Russian generals, by the way — must pass your post, and reach Konigsberg by the road down there ; fortunately you are the vedette to-night, t and will give us the password ; as for myself — it is this way. You know I have always had a certain laiack at cards, and having cleaned out every officer in my division, th© game grew too waim, and I took service under the Czar "five years ago — men are richer there, and I have been fortunate. I am now captain in the regiment of Wyborg, engaged on a special mission. If I choose to fight under the Russian eagle, and you Under, that of France — well, it is a difference- of opinion, which concerns neither of us over deeply. We may never meet again, nor do 1 suppose you have troubled yourself very greatly about one who was always considered the scamp of the family. "Pah! Soldiering under the Corsican must be poor work. See, lam a captain, and you, why, not yet a corporal. Listen. You might do worse than gallop this troop horse along with us. Old Bennigsen owes me three thousand roubles, and I douht not were I to cry quits he would find a pair of silver epaulettes 1 for those broad shoulders." In the meantime that wary and estimable officer, the Capitaine Bonniniere, activ« and keen-sighted as ever, hand laid on sabre hilt, was going the round of his sentries — alone and on foot ; ■ for they were in the presence of an energetic enemy. Suddenly he came to a dead stop, and opened both, ears very wide indeed. The vedette before him, whom he knew to be the smartest man in the whole escadron, was talking to some one— an earnest conversation, too, for the voices rose and fell, now in anger, now falling to a pleading tone. Bonniniere's moustache bristled with Jury. "Hem, what was thatY Wrangling on the extreme vedette ! Someone would have to suffer. Thunder and horseflesh! Suppose it should reach the Emperor?" He heard Cyprien's infamous proposals, and his face purpled with rage ; then came Gaston's answer, and the worthy man felt an intense longing to embrace him. "Cyprien !" said the trooper in a firm voice, "your words are those of a scoundrel, and wena you not my brother I would shoot you where you stand! A Frenchmani to suggest this treachery to ttie, a soldier of the Emperor! Well is is it that our father died sword in hand fighting for France! He at least was spared the knowledge of this !" "Zut, my good moraliser — as you like '—only give me the password, and I will go. I have my boots full of despatches, which must be at headquarters before dawn." "No," replied .the Hussar gravely. "Already I have transgressed my duty by conversing so long. Even now the Russians may be at hand. You compromise my honour and- my life ; but what can I do? If I let you go, I deserve to be shot. If I detain you, you will die the death of a renegade, and how am I to face our mother after that?" Cyprian Margadel stamped impatiently,. "Now, see, Gaston ; listen to reason for one moment." But the vedette stood up in his stirrups suddenly, craning forward to listen to something else — the- sound of hoofs on the road before him. "Qui ya la?" he cried loudly. "Fool, they are only my companions, tired of waiting, and trying the way for themselves. Quick, the word!" hissed the other, grasping the Hussars' carbine. He had forgotten that it was fastened by a swivel a»d sliding bar to the chest

belt, and Gaston lurched heavily over 1 towards him. J "Let go, or I shall fire," he said, spurring the mare, and wrestling hard for the weapon. "No, no," thundered a deep voice as Capitaine Bonniniere sprang up from the ground. "Leave the scoundrel to me. Look to the others in the road." Gaston felt his brother's grip leave the barrel, and heard a smashing blow and a heavy fall as ho swung the carbine round and aimed in the direction of the Russians. But the powder has been swept out of the pan in the struggle, and the officers, hearing the voices, left Cyprien to his fate. "Peste, they are gone !" exclaimed the capitaine, husky with passion, "but we have one of them, and a pretty villain, too. He hauled him roughly to his fest, hal|-stunned, the relief coming up at the moment and halting on the road beside them. "Double this post, Sergeant Epsron, and place two men on the road down there. Tell the lieutenant to take the guard until I return. We have a prisoner here for the Emperor. „ Margadel, follow me." And, with the sinewy fingers of his left hand grasping the renegade's* collar, he strode in the direction of the quartiergenerale. In a bare room which seemed to have been a kitchen strewed with a litter of campaigning! trunks, open valises, books, and maps, an iron bedstead with white j hangings, a carved crucifix on the wall, on which someone had hung a, swordbelt, stood the great Napoleon. An aide-de-camp, who had been writing, looked, up, waiting. Half a dozen candles, one stuck in a wine bottle partially illumined the room, glinting on. the drawn sabres of the Chasseur escort, and the buttons of several officers present. The Capitaine Bonniniere had told his story, dwelling much on Gascon's loyalty to Francs and the Emperor, and leaving the treason of Cyprien to speak for itself. Several papers, some of considerable importance, had been taken from Cyprien Margadel' s boots, and the culprit stood before them barefooted and unabashed. Napoleon, possessed the power of banishing all expression from his face at will, and now, as he half-leaned against the doorway of an inner room, his visage told nothing of what was passing in his mighty mind. Calm, impassive, a little pale, he looked from one to the other, and fixed his gaze at last on Gaston Margadel. "Your regiment is the Second Hussars V" he said sternly, and with great deliberation. , "Yes, sire." "And you have disgraced your corps. You have allowed the enemy to approach yowr post ; you let yourself be fooled into conversation while two Russian officers crept by you and escaped. As a soldier, you know that your punishment is death. !" Bonniniere bit his nether lip till the blood trickled over his chin, and some of the escort turned very white, for they loved Gaston. "He was my brother, "sire, and we were twins!" said Gaston entreatingly, his head falling forward on his breast. "A soldier has no kindred but his conn try's welfare. Discipline stands in need of an example—you will be shot at dawn. "Gaston, forgive me I I have brought you to this. Oh, rather a thousand times my knife had not slipped ; you would have died at your post, and the army would have mourned you ! Sire," continued the renegads, with terrible earnest ness, extending both arms in a gesture of entreaty towards Napoleon, "spare him for the saka of our aged mother; my life is forfeited beyond all mercy ; do not take both her sons ; you would have done as he did had it been your own brother ! have mercy on him !" The Emperor remained silent. . Then the Capitaine Bonniniere found his voice, and pleaded with rugged elo quence for the* soldier. "lour Majesty, parbleu, but it was my fault ; he would have shot the scoundrel mille Diables, sire. I ask your Majesty's pai'don, but it is true ; his finger was on the trigger when I cried, "Do not fire !" and I am entirely to blame. And still the Emperor said not a word, but kept his gray eyes fixed, on the two young men, his mouth growing sterner as he gazed. Duroe stood behind the Emperor, and Napoleon, motioning with his head to him, whispered for some moments in his ear. Duroc started and scanned the brothers closely; nodded, and replied 1 in a low tons. Then Napoleon spoke aloud. "Let the escort withdraw ; Bonniniere, stay where you are : and you, the prisoners, listen to mo. Pay strict attention. In a- moment the room was cleared, and the Emperor walked tiip to Cyprien. "You can save your brother's life," he said, "and help in some measure to wipe out the stain upon your own soul." The spy drew himsslf up, and set Ms. teeth. "Take off that uniform which you disgrace, and which alike disgraces you !" And he indicated by a contemptuous gesture the green coat with sky-blue facings of the Russian regiment of Wyborg. "You," he continued turning to Gaston, "strip yourself ; youi are no longer in the Second Hussars." Silently they obeyed, and stood in their, shirts before the Emperor. Bonniniere's eyebrows arched them- j solvea until hia torehead was as wrinkled as a ploughed field, and he well-nigh j pulled his moustache out by the roots, for the two brothers presented such an exact fac-simile of the other save that Gaston's chest was badly scarred by an old bayonet wound. "Where did you get that?" said the Emperor, pointing to the scar. "At Austerlitz, sire." "Uinph, and only a private still ; promotion is slow in the Ohamborant." Ho turned again to Cyprien. "Put on this uniform, and make haste ! Bonniniere, show him how it goes on. One lesson will suffice, for he will never take it off again." Cyprien became ghastly pale, but obeyed, and he was soon dressed in the gay costume of the Second — the transformation was complete — it M r as Gaston Marga- | del who stood before them. Napoleon took a pinch of snuff, replaced the box in the pocket of his waistcoat, and addressed the marshal. "Duroc, take Gaston Margadel away and find him some clothes ; in the meantime, muffie him in that cloak there. In an hour you go to Ney, at Intersburg. who has with him the Tenth Horse Chasseurs, which has lately lost several officers. Enter Gaston Margadel va that regiment as sous-lieulenant under whatever name you please. For a time, at least his identity must be lost ; in the future his career shall be my especial care. Go, sir ! Let this be a warning that discipline is a soldier's first r'uty. It must never be neglected."

To Cyprien he said, when the door of the cottage had closed upon. Duroc : "At daybreak you consent to be shot before the army as Gaston Margadel, to save your brother's life?" "Yes, sire." "You will say nothing ; you recognise the justice of this ?" "Yea, sire." "Bonniniere, see to it; and, gentlemen, all, silence, on your honour." When the dawn broke in the east, Napoleon was (sleeping calmly on his narrow camp-bed. The men of tho escort, outsids in the village street, wiped the dew from their brass scabbards, and spoke in hushed voices. When the distant volley of small arms rattled in the morning air, followed by the muffled roll of drums, it was a relief. A little later, Duroc, booted and spurred, drew back the curtain of the Emperor's bed. "Ha! Duroc, returned already?" "Yes, your Majesty, it is all over— the Margadel affair^ I mean." • "Well, the troops would not suspect. The example is a goocl one." "I believe so; the firing party did their work as I rod© past," replied the marshal. "Good! — and the prisoner?" queried Napoleon, raising himself on his elbow. "He is dead, and he said nothing."