International Short Stories: French - - (new books to read .TXT) 📗

At the same moment Schell fired, but his assailants returned the shot and wounded him.

Trenck again discharged his pistol twice in succession. Then, as one of the Prussians, who was apparently still uninjured, took to flight across the plain he sped furiously after him. The pursuit continued some two or three hundred paces. The Prussian, as if impelled by some irresistible force, whirled around and Trenck caught sight of his blanched countenance and blood-stained linen. One of the shots had struck him!

Instantly Trenck put an end to the half-finished task with a sword thrust. But the time wasted on the Prussian had cost him dear. Returning hastily to the field of action, he perceived Schell struggling in the grasp of the two remaining Prussians. Wounded as he was, he had been unable to cope single-handed with them, and was rapidly being borne toward the carriage.

“Courage, Schell!” Trenck shouted. “I am coming!”

At the sound of his friend’s voice Schell felt himself saved. By a supreme effort he succeeded in releasing himself from his captors.

Frantic with rage and disappointment, the Prussians again advanced to the attack upon the two wretched fugitives, but Trenck’s blood was up. He made a furious onslaught upon them with his sword, driving them back step by step to their carriage, into which they finally tumbled, shouting to the driver in frantic haste to whip up his horses.

As the carriage dashed away the friends drew long breaths of relief and wiped away the blood and powder stains from their heated brows. Careless of their sufferings, these iron-hearted men merely congratulated each other upon their victory.

“Ah, it’s well ended, Schell,” exclaimed Trenck, “and I rejoice that we have had this opportunity to chastise the miserable traitors. But you are wounded, my poor Schell!”

“It is nothing,” the lieutenant replied carelessly; “merely a wound in the throat, and, I think, another in the head.”

This was the last attempt for a considerable time to regain possession of Trenck’s person. But the two friends suffered greatly from hardships and were made to feel more than once the cruelty of Prussian oppression. Even Trenck’s sister, instigated thereto by her husband, who feared to incur the displeasure of Frederick the Great, refused the poor fugitives shelter, money, or as much as a crust of bread, and this after Trenck had jeopardized his liberty by returning to Prussian soil in order to meet her.

It was at this period, when starvation stared the exiles in the face, that Trenck met the Russian General Liewen, a relative of Trenck’s mother, who offered the baron a captaincy in the Tobolsk Dragoons, and furnished him with the money necessary for his equipment. Trenck and Schell were now compelled to part, the latter journeying to Italy to rejoin relatives there, the baron to go to Russia, where he was to attain the highest eminence of grandeur.

Baron de Trenck, on his journey to Russia, passed through Danzig, which was at that time neutral territory, bordering upon the confines of Prussia. Here he delayed for a time in the hope of meeting with his cousin the Pandour. During the interim he formed an intimacy with a young Prussian officer named Henry, whom he assisted lavishly with money. Almost daily they indulged in excursions in the environs, the Prussian acting as guide.

One morning, while at his toilet, Trenck’s servant, Karl, who was devoted to him body and soul, observed:

“Lieutenant Henry will enjoy himself thoroughly on your excursion to-morrow.”

“Why do you say that, Karl?” asked the baron.

“Because he has planned to take your honor to Langführ at ten o’clock.”

“At ten or eleven—the hour is not of importance.”

“No! You must be there on the stroke of ten by the village clock. Langführ is on the Prussian border and under Prussian rule.”

“Prussia!” exclaimed Trenck, shaking his head, which Karl had not finished powdering. “Are you quite sure?”

“Perfectly. Eight Prussians—non-commissioned officers and soldiers—will be in the courtyard of the charming little inn that Lieutenant Henry described so well. As soon as your honor crosses the threshold they will fall upon you and bear you off to a carriage which will be in waiting.”

“Finish dressing my hair, Karl,” said Trenck, recovering his wonted impassibility.

“Oh, for that matter,” continued the valet, “they will have neither muskets nor pistols. They will be armed with swords only. That will leave them free to fall bodily upon your honor and to prevent you using your weapon.”

“Is that all, Karl?”

“No. There will be two soldiers detailed especially for my benefit, so that I can’t get away to give the alarm.”

“Well, is that all!”

“No. The carriage is to convey your honor to Lavenburg, in Pomerania, and you must cross a portion of the province of Danzig to get there. Besides the under officers at the inn who will travel with your honor, two others will accompany the carriage on horseback to prevent any outcry while you are on neutral ground.”

“Famously planned!”

“M. Reimer, the Prussian resident here, outlined the plot, and appointed Lieutenant Henry to carry it out.”

“Afterward, Karl?”

“That’s all—this time—and it’s enough!”

“Yes, but I regret that it should end thus, for your account has greatly interested me.”

“Your honor may take it that all I have said is absolutely correct.”

“But when did you obtain this information?”

“Oh, just now!”

“And from whom?”

“Franz, Lieutenant Henry’s valet, when we were watching the horses beneath the big pines, while your honors waited in that roadside pavilion for the shower to pass over.”

“Is his information reliable?”

“Of course! As no one suspected him, the whole matter was discussed freely before him.”

“And he betrayed the secret?”

“Yes, because he greatly admires your honor and wasn’t willing to see you treated so.”

“Karl, give him ten ducats from my purse and tell him I will take him in my own service, for he has afforded me great pleasure. The outing to-morrow will be a hundred times more amusing than I had hoped—indeed more amusing than any I have ever undertaken in my life.”

“Your honor will go to Langführ, then!”

“Certainly, Karl. We will go together, and you shall see if I misled you when I promised you a delightful morning.”

As soon as Baron de Trenck had completed his toilet, he visited M. Scherer, the Russian resident, spent a few moments in private with him and then returned to his apartments for dinner.

Lieutenant Henry arrived soon afterward. Trenck found delight in the course of dissimulation to which he stood committed. He overwhelmed his guest with courteous attentions, pressing upon him the finest wines and his favorite fruits, meanwhile beaming upon him with an affection that overspread his whole countenance, and expatiating freely upon the delights of the morrow’s ride.

Henry accepted his attentions with his accustomed dreamy manner.

The next morning, at half past nine, when the lieutenant arrived, he found Trenck awaiting him.

The two officers rode off, followed by their servants, and took the road to Langführ. Trenck’s audacity was terrifying. Even Karl, who was well aware of his master’s great ability and cleverness, was nevertheless uneasy, and Franz, who was less familiar with the baron’s character, was in a state of the greatest alarm.

The country, beautiful with its verdant grasslands, its budding bushes and flowers, its rich fields of wheat, dotted with spring blossoms, revealed itself to their delighted eyes. In the distance glistened the tavern of Langführ, with its broad red and blue stripes and its tempting signboard that displayed a well-appointed festive table.

The low door in the wall that enclosed the tavern courtyard was still closed. Inside, to the right of that door, was a little terrace, and against the wall was an arbor formed of running vines and ivy.

Lieutenant Henry, pausing near a clump of trees some two hundred paces from the tavern, said:

“Baron, our horses will be in the way in that little courtyard. I think it would be well to leave them here in the care of our servants until our return.”

Trenck assented readily. He sprang from his horse and tossed his bridle to his valet and Henry did the same.

The path leading to the tavern was enchanting, with its carpet of flowers and moss, and the two young men advanced arm in arm in the most affectionate manner. Karl and Franz watched them, overwhelmed with anxiety.

The door in the wall had been partly opened as they approached and the young men saw, within the arbor on the terrace, the resident, Herr Reimer—his three-cornered hat on his powdered wig, his arms crossed on the top of the adjacent wall, as he awaited their coming.

As soon as the officers were within ear-shot, he called out:

“Come on, Baron de Trenck, breakfast is ready.”

The two officers were almost at the threshold. Trenck slackened his pace somewhat; then he felt Henry grip his arm more closely and forcibly drag him toward the doorway.

Trenck energetically freed his arm, upon observing this movement that spoke so eloquently of betrayal, and twice struck the lieutenant, with such violence that Henry was thrown to the ground.

Reimer, the resident, realizing that Trenck knew of the plot, saw that the time had come to resort to armed intervention.

“Soldiers, in the name of Prussia, I command you to arrest Baron de Trenck!” he shouted to the men who were posted in the courtyard.

“Soldiers, in the name of Russia!” Trenck shouted, brandishing his sword, “kill these brigands who are violating the rights of the country.”

At these words, six Russian dragoons emerged suddenly from a field of wheat and, running up, fell upon the Prussians who had rushed from the courtyard at the resident’s command.

This unexpected attack took the Prussians by surprise. They defended themselves only half-heartedly and finally they fled in disorder, throwing away their weapons, and followed by the shots of the Russians.

Lieutenant Henry and four soldiers remained in the custody of the victors. Trenck dashed into the arbor to seize Resident Reimer, but the only evidence of that personage was his wig, which remained caught in the foliage at an opening in the rear of the arbor through which the resident had made his escape. Trenck then returned to the prisoners.

As a fitting punishment for the Prussian soldiers, he commanded his dragoons to give each of them fifty blows, to turn their uniforms wrongside out, to decorate their helmets with straw cockades, and to drive them thus attired across the frontier.

While his men proceeded to execute his orders, Trenck drew his sword and turned to Lieutenant Henry.

“And now, for our affair, lieutenant!” he exclaimed.

The unfortunate Henry, under the disgrace of his position, lost his presence of mind. Hardly knowing what he did, he drew his sword, but dropped it almost immediately, begging for mercy.

Trenck endeavored to force him to fight, without avail, then, disgusted with the lieutenant’s cowardice, he caught up a stick and belabored him heartily, crying:

“Rogue, go tell your fellows how Trenck deals with traitors!”

The people of the inn, attracted by the noise of the conflict, had gathered around the spot, and, as the baron administered the punishment, they added to the shame of the disgraced lieutenant by applauding the baron heartily.

The punishment over and the sentence of the Prussians having been carried out, Trenck returned to the city with his six dragoons and the two servants.

In this affair, as throughout his entire career, Trenck was simply faithful to the rule which he had adopted to guide him through life:

“Always face danger rather than avoid it.”