DE FOURNIER'S ESCAPE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1265, 28 May 1896, Page 41

DE FOURNIER'S ESCAPE.

IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. (Br Joseph Hatton.) [A selected reading from ‘When Greek meets Greek.’ By Joseph Hatton. Published by J. B, Lippiricott Co. In the days of the French Revolution, Deputy Grebauval had most hitur enmity against his half-brother, Count do Fournier. Grebauval never forgave his f.ither for the nil ame of bis birth, and it maddened him to feel the honourable birth and position of his half brother. Grebauval grew rapidlv into a place of highest importance among the Revolutionists of Paris ; he whs on tenns of equality with Robespierre and otiier fiiends of the lime, and be used his diabolic power to hound Ins Royalist brother, de Fournier. B>>th men loved Mathiide, daughter of the Duke de l.ouvet, but de Fournier wins and weds her. Soon after Grebauval spreads the false news of de Fournier's deatli and attempt-, under the awful threat of the gui. Inline, to force Mathiide to marry him. Bhe has heroically defied him the night prior to the opening of the reading. The two men, so vitally different in character, were wonderfully alike in size, featuie, completion and physical churacteiislic.'. Grebauval, with the aid of Laroche, his chief of police, has entrapped de Fournier at a loyalist meeting. De Fournier escapes over toe r iofs of the houses when the reading oj eus. Jaffray Ellicott, a close friend of de Fournier, bound to him by every tie of gralitu !e, is forced to he Eirivate secretary to Grebauval, do Fourniei’s litter enemy,] At the same moment there rp,.eared, at iho edge of the parapet from which de Fournier had climbed, the figure of Pierre, heroic against the fading light of the afternoon. He stood upright, as if he had been on the safest ground, hi* pike in his left hand. ‘Cowards!’ he shouted, in his big, clear voice. ‘Scum!’ Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Pierre was gone, . „ , ' After him !’ shouted the men in the street, It was a spacious balcony. At Borne time or other fair ladies might have sat there to see gallant processions pass along the narrow street pelow,

De Fournier staggered ns ha landed. The bullets of two of his atsailants had shot away his hat. Otherwise he was untouched. He ran his hands over his body enquiiingly. The scramble across the street hand over hand had strained his muscles; but there was no blood upon his clothes. He had the use of all his limbs. Unfortunately, he had dropped his sword. He had a powerful knife in his belt, which Pierre had given him. He drew it, and looked around him. First he glanced at the distance to the ground. This was too great for a drop with anything like safely. Nor were there any means for climbing down.

He peered into the room that gave upon the balcony. It was a large Rquare apartment. The window was open. He wondered if it would be wise to enter. Thera was a broad old oak seat beneath the window. He might do worse than try his fortune here. While be was hesitating, shouts came up from the street below. They must be his pursuers, he thought. This decided him. He leaped lightly upon the old osk seat and thence to the floor.

A large wainscoted room. No doorways apparent. They were, no doubt, either for secrecy or artistic effect, part of the wainscoting. Two large maps covered a part of the walls, one of France, the other of Europe. A hat and cloak hung upon a peg close by. At one end of the room were seats, a massiv* table, with papers scattered about, and a tall arm-chair ; at tho other end a rail was fixed, with sidebars, as if for witnesses or prisoners. Tho whole place had a magisterial appearance. 'A judge’s room?'said do Fournier, as if asking himself a question. ‘Ur a commissary of police ? I had better get out of this.’ He looked about for a door, but could find none. Then he went to the table and examined the papers. ‘ Grebauval’s room!’ he exclaimed. ‘l'm lost!’ at the same time drawing his knife from his leathern case and buttoning his coat across his chest.

Almost at the same moment a door opened and closed with a catch. He turned round. It was Grebauval who had entered the room. ‘ Grebauval!’ exclaimed de Fournier.

I De Fournier!’ responded Grebauval. ‘And it in you whom the patriot citizens arc hunting ?’ As he spoke, tho cries in the street came loud and noisily in at the open window. 'I have that honour,’ said de Fournier. ‘They are your comrades. 1 1 They are looking for your body ; but some of our patriot soldiers have not learnt to shoot an wed as they will with a little more practice,’ replied Grebauval, 1 It is a pity you do not train them upon tha enemies ot France,' said de Fournier, not thinking much about what he was saying, but watching every movement of his enemy, who drew his sword. • I must come to their assistance,’ said Grebauval.

The sounds in the street stopped. 1 They are coining round by the stairway,’ said Grebauval.

De Fournier began to edge for the window. ‘ No, citizen, not that way. Yuir hour has come. lam going to kill you. Better die on my sword than be torn to pieces by the mob.’

Grebauval wan livid

lie looked devilish.

1 Give me a sword,’ said de Fuurnier. ‘ Don't add my murder to your other crimes,’ ‘What is the good of a sword to you?’ sneered Grebauval, intercepting de Fournier’s movement towards the window, and approaching him with a tigerish look in his eyes. ‘Don’t you remember when we once before crossed swords?—a combat of your own seeking, an assassination it might have been, for you did not know that a civilian was also master of the gentleman’s weapon.’ De Fournier remembered it only too well, 'lf my father was your father, as they say, you showed signs of his gallant blood for once, and that was when you gave me back my sword.’

‘Curse you and your father! 1 exclaimed Grebauval. 'lt is God’s righteous judgment upon you both that I kill you.’ And he advanced slowly upon do Fournier, without raising his feet from the floor, gliding towards him, gripping his sword, but with a hand trembling with suppressed passion. ‘Since you are the better swordsman,’ said de Fournier, not willing to die ignominiously, ‘and claim to be a gentleman, at least give yourself the satisfaction of killing me honourably ; make it a duel to the death, but givome a sword,’

While de Fournier was speaking, Grebauval was peculiarly conscious of his opponent’s eyes, which were fixed, not upon his, but upon his mouth, for it is there tiie fighting man looks for the forecasted action of his enemy. ‘I have lived for this day,’ said Grebauval, * have prayed for it at the grave of my mother, prayed to heaven and to hell, have given my soul for it. Curse you ! You efiigy of nobility 1’ Grebauval hissed the words between bis teeth, his eyes blazing witli a fury which he endeavoured to control.

Then, suddenly catching at the exposed breast if do Fournier, who had hitherto kept his right arm in something of a position of defence which might mean a possible seizure of Grebauval’s sword-arm, be lunged with tremendous force upon his opponent. Quick as lightning, and with the keensighteilness if a man wdio has come thiough iiimy ten ib!e chanc- s by corn age and audacity, de Fournier crouched as Grebauval flung himself forward, and caught lii.s assailant by his sword wrist, caught him, happily, with his right hand, and after a short snuggle twisted Grebauval’s him almost out uf its socket. His sword fell with a elat’e.* upon the fl >or. Above the noise of the struggle came the shouts of a m-ih mi the stairs. Do Founder, letting Ids a-sailant fall, took his knife in his right hand. Giebauval reached out his left hand for his sword, and with an Herculean effort got upon his feet. De Fournier, without a word, seized him by the throat, and stabbed him to death, flinging him to the ground with a thud that shook the room. De Fournier was moved by no feeling of revenge. Self-preservation was his impulse. The shouts of the mob passed by the door and went further along the corridors. He thiust his knif.- into its sheath, and was already upon the window-seat, intending to risk a leap into the street, when the door through which Grebauval had entered swung open once more, and clicked hack with a sound like the snap of a pistol. His hand upon his knife, de Fournier turned, to meet the anxious gaze of Jaffray Kilicott. ‘ My God ! it’d you,’ exclaimed the young fellow. * Jatfray !’ said de Fournier, coining down from the seat.

‘ You’ve killed him !' ‘ To save my own life.’ 1 1 know.’ ‘ Will you help me ?' ‘To the death !’ Jaffray replied, 1 Quick, then !’ said the count ; 1 strip him.’ De Fournier at once began to untie the tricolour sash and unbutton the deputy's coat.

‘You will personate him?’ said Jaffray ‘lt is an inspiration ! Fortune is with you, Here are his hat and cloak,’

Jaffray took down from their peg on the wall the deputy’s grey cloak and threecornered hat with its familiar cockade, and flung them to the count.

Already de Fournier was half undressed. It was an easy matter for him, he had been *o torn about and made buttonlcsn

To get into the dead man’s vest and coat and sash was the work of a few minutes ; to change pantaloons was a more difficult task. 1 The change must be complete,’ said de Fournier, breathless with excitement; 1 and the beasts are coming hack.’ ‘ I will stop them,’ said Jaffray. As he dragged the body free from its nankeen breeches, de Fournier heard Jaffray directing the crowd to proceed in another direction, and the mob passed hy the door. It was a daring piece of strategy. Jaffray was hack again in a few minutes. The ways of the Grebauval hot* 1 and bureau were, fortunately, complicated. 1 And now to dress him, 1 said de Fournier, puliing th 3 dead man into a sitting attitude. At last the ghastly work was done. A mob in the street could be heard planting a ladder against the balcony, the top rung of it near the window. The pursuers did not know whose balcony they were about to scale. ‘ Sit at the desk,’ said Jaffray : 1 this is Ilia chair. Let them enter. They know how bitterly cool Grebauval could bo on occasion. Lit them think they shot him. Tap three times on this panel, ami I will come to you. Laroche may come by way of tho Palais de Justice, and he would he familiar with this habit of the deputy. I hear footsteps on the outer stair. Now, my friend, to prove that you are a good actor.’ Jaffray left the room. De Fournier, as Grebauval, took up a pen and bent over some papers on the desk. His hand trembled, and his heart beat wildly It was with difficulty that ho could sit still, as the n**i-es of the approaching crowd increased and tho threecornered hat of a National Guard appeared above tho last rung of the ladder. The dead body of Grebauval lay near the window, Above it, from the balcony, suddenly appeared the face of Jacques Itenaud. De Fournier laid down his pen and looked up at him, Jacques turned to speak with some one in the street. 'Ascend, comrades !' he shouted.

At tire same moment the other section of the mob thundered at the door. Jacques leaped down into the room. Ilis place was taken hy another and another in the balcony. Jacques stepped over the body, and saluted de Fournier, who rose from his seat and tapped three times at the wainscot behind him. Jaffray Kilicott entered almost immediately. ‘Open to our friends, 1 said de Fournier. Jaffray obeyed. A dozen panting patriots rushed in. Recruits still continued to advance by way of the window. liaising his hand for silence, de Fournier in the well-mimicked voice of Grebauval, said,

‘ Which of you, my brave citizens hid the honour of firing the shot that brought down the traitor de Fournier?’

‘lt was I,’ shouted tho ruffian whose acquaintance we made originally at the Lion d’Or—‘l, Jacques Remind, corporal of the National Guard.’

1 Give me your hand, brother,’ said de Fournier, taking his grimy paw. ‘lf I have any influence with the cornmanderdn-chiif, hy this time to-morrow you shall he lieutenant.’ ‘ Vive Grebauval!’ shouted a dozen voices.

‘But who says you shot the traitor?' demanded another valiant soldier, stepping to the front. ‘I was one of the fireing party.’ 1 Yes, it is true,’ said several of his comrades.

‘ I, too, fired my fusil,’ said anothor. ‘lt was I who brought him down,’ said Itenaud, spurning the body with his foot, ‘ I and no other.’

'Yes, it was Corporal Jacques,’ shouted his supporters. ‘Vive Itenaud !’ 1 You shall have your rewards, comrades ; not one only, but all of you. Citizen Secretary, take their names,’

Half a dozen men crowded around Jaffray, who took his seat and made his record. ‘ln the meantime, messieurs,’ said de Fournier, ‘ pass into the next room, and you shall see that the Republic knows how to pay for goof services.’ ‘Vive Grebauval! Vive la ltepublique !' they shouted. ‘Ft a mort les aristocrates !' growled a raucous voice, seizing tho dead body by the hair, without warning or protest, if de Fournier had been inclined to interpose. A yell resounded through the placo and fluttered tho maps on the walls. 'This way, messieurs,’ said Jaffiay, opening ilia door that led into his own office. ‘But first the money, Citizen Grebauval, if you please,’ ho said. 1 Permit me.’ And, opening a cabinet behind Grebauval's chair, he brought out a small bag of gold and a bundle of assignats. ‘ Vive le citoyen secretaire !' shouted tho men, who remained to look on. The room was almost immediately cleared. De Fournier, breathing hard, sat down, and watched the blood of his enemy flow in a serpent-like trail across the floor. He had seen death in many forms, had dragged himself through many a red encounter, but never hefoie had he experienced so sickening a feeling of nausea. Advancing against the enemy after the affair at Cherry Valley, ho had fainted from the effects of a sharp wound. He remembered the sensation at this moment, and clutched at the table in front of him for support. Ho heard the sound of many voices from Jaffray’s room, and made a great effort not to fall bu'k helplessly. Presently the desperate crew of aristocrat hunters returned, with varied cries of 1 Vive la ltepublique !’ ‘ Vive Grebauval!’ 1 A mort les aristocrates !’ He recovered sufficiently to sit upright, and that was all. His eyes followed the patriots, headed hy Jacques, as they made a fresh assault upon the body of his enemy. •Fling him into the street?’ they shouted ; and once more they proceeded to hoist the body into the balcony, while the rest lifted it on the railing. De Fournier looked on, confused still in mind, hut recovering under the touch of Jaffray, who st oil by his side, quiet as his chief, but ah-rt, quick of resource. 1 Down with him !’ said Jienauo’s a-sistants, and down went the remains of Grebauval. amiil-t a roar of frightful jubilations. Then, one hy one, the men in the hale my disappeared, the others rushing out of the room hy the doorway, 100 intent upon their ghastly business to take formal leave.

Jaffray followed thorn, and pushed the door to with a click ; then, avoiding the ghastly evidence of the tragedy that stained the floor and bedabbled the rugs, he mounted into the balcony. De Fournier watched him, without uttering a word. 'lt is awful!’ said Jaffray. The young fellow was very pale, hut his lips were tightened into a mere thin line. ’ Come this way, monsieur,’ he said. 1 You must wash and dress.' De Fournier roused himself,

' You are a brave fellow/ he said, staggering to Ih'h feet.

1 Come to your roam ; a bottle of wine and a hath, and you will he Grebauval indeed. First I will give instructions that you are not to he disturbed on any account.’

He went into his office for a moment, returned, the panel clicking after him, then closed and fastened the window, and led the way to the secret bureau where Grebauval had entertained Laroche.

Here Jaffray produced a bottle of red wine. 'You have saved my life, Jaffray. God bless you !’ said de Fournier, emptying the goblet. ‘You once did me a similar favour, hut without my help/ Jaffray replied. ‘ Let us give thanks to the Blessed Virgin,’ exclaimed do Fournier, ‘ who has answered the prayer of my wife and Marie Bruyset, for by the Blessad Mother of God’s intervention a miracle has been performed a miracle, Jaffray.’ ‘ You are overcome/ said Jaffray. ' I could not have believed ycu could he so much moved.’

‘Nor I, Jaffray; nor 1/ said de Fournier. ‘I could weep. It seemed as if a spirit-hand defended me, as if an avenging angel turned Grebauval's sword aside and struck him down. Now life, freedom, and all that is dear to me is in my hands.’