Part 2
"The answer was brave enough.
"'I have asked no favour from you, sir.'
"'It is an easy condition, sir,' I continued, 'or I would not affront you by proposing it. I only ask your promise that, whatever may happen, whatever the provocation, you, as commander of the artillery, will never cause a gun to be fired upon the people of Paris.'
"He laughed. I imagine he thought he was dealing with a lunatic.
"'Is that all?' he said. 'I promise gladly. Nothing could be further from my wish than to use the guns of the French artillery against Frenchmen. Shall we now say "Good evening"?'
"He was going, but I stopped him.
"'Stay,' I said; 'it is necessary that I should have that in writing.'
"'My word, then,' he objected, 'is not enough for you?'
"'It is enough for me,' I answered; 'but I must have something to show to my friends in proof that I have executed the task which they entrusted to me. Here is the document to which I desire your signature.'
"I produced the slip of paper. These were the words upon it--
"'_I, Louis Charles, Duc de Montpensier, in consideration of my life having been spared in fair fight by Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski, do hereby engage that in no event--not even in the event of revolution--will I, as commander of the artillery, cause or permit the cannon to be used against the people._"
"'_As witness my hand._'
"'Now, M. le Duc,' I said, as I handed it to him, 'if you will sign this document, I pledge my word of honour that the world shall know nothing of it so long as you are faithful to the undertaking which it expresses. On the other hand, if you prefer not to sign it, I am willing to renew the combat.'
"Yet again the prince stepped aside to confer with his companion. I caught odd words and phrases of their conversation--'Dangerous madman.' 'Official denial.' 'Only way out of it.' 'Avoid a scandal at all hazards.' But I affected not to hear, and waited.
"'Well, M. le Duc?' I said at last.
"He laughed again.
"'Well, well, suppose I sign? You have pen and ink there? Thank you. Even in the event of revolution? How ridiculous! As if there were any chance of another revolution in this country?'
"'Nevertheless, M. le Duc,' I answered, watching him as he wrote his name, and as both his masked friend and Jacques Durand witnessed the signature--'nevertheless, M. le Duc, the wise man is he who is prepared for all emergencies.'
* * * * *
"'We saluted ceremoniously, and drove away, this time in separate carriages; and most of what remains of my story is in the history books. All the world knows that the revolution came, as I anticipated, bursting like a thunderclap in a clear sky. All the world knows that King Louis Phillipe drove away from the Tuileries in a cab, and travelled to England under the _alias_ of 'Mr. Smith,' hoping, as he explained, to pass as the head of the English family of that name. But just one new thing I can tell you--a thing that I learnt afterwards from one of the royal servants, a maid who waited upon the Duchesse de Montpensier and became a good Republican after the dynasty had fallen.
"'Ah, that scene!' she said to me. 'That terrible scene! Never shall I forget it!'
"'What scene, Babette?' I asked her.
"'What scene?' she repeated, and then described it to me.
"'It was on that dreadful morning when the news came to us that Paris had, as we said, gone mad, and the people were on their way from Saint Antoine to batter down the palace gates. I was alone with the Duchess, who was crying. I was trying to console her, telling her that the police would soon take all the wicked rioters to prison; and as I did this the door opened, and who should enter, unannounced, but Queen Marie Amelie herself. Ah, she was a woman of spirit, though she was old, was Queen Marie Amelie!
"'"Where is Montpensier?" she asked, without a word of greeting.
"'It was no time for idle forms of etiquette, so the Duchess stepped to the other door of her boudoir and called down the passage, just as any common woman might.
"'A minute later M. le Duc entered. He was dressed as though for a journey, and his face was pale--I do not think I ever saw a paler face. Ignoring my presence, the Queen broke out into reproaches.
"'"Montpensier! For shame, Montpensier! Your father's throne in peril, and you strike no blow for it!"
"'If possible, his pallor deepened. Even a girl, as I was, could see that there was some struggle, which I did not understand, proceeding in his mind.
"'"What would you have me do, my mother?"' he asked, trembling before her.
"'"What to do?" she repeated. "Was it for this, then, that you were given the command of the artillery--that you should tell us in the day of trouble that you don't know what to do? For shame, Montpensier! And, once more, for shame! Can't you bring out your guns and shoot this rabble down? Better to die at your post----"
"'He answered, "Anything is better, my mother, than that the French guns should be turned on the French people.'
"'"And to think that it is my own son who speaks thus to me! To think that I have lived to learn that I am the mother of a coward!"
"'It was clear that the taunt stung him to the quick. I thought that it must move him to take up the challenge and offer to risk his life against any odds. But no; he stood his ground and answered, with a cold, impassive stare--
"'"My mother, if I told you that I have given my plighted word to act as I am acting, you would not believe me; but so it is. Some day, it may be, you will know the truth. In the meantime I would rather be thought a coward than know myself to be a liar."
"'"Yes, Montpensier, you are a coward! Coward--coward!" she hissed, and turned upon her heel and left him.
"'And he was a coward, wasn't he?' Babette commented. 'Even a Republican like you must think of him as a coward.'
"'No, no, Babette,' I answered; 'he was no coward. He was an honourable man who faithfully kept the pledge that had been extracted from him by Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'
"And then, in answer to her questions, I told her as much of the truth as it was good for her to know, and also described to her the last scene of all in this remarkable adventure.
"I now come to it. Observe!
"The populace, as you know, besieged the Tuileries, and the king and the royal family drove away in cabs. I was in the crowd, and as the Duc de Montpensier came out of the gate, I advanced a step or two to speak to him.
"'M. le Duc,' I said, "you are an honourable man, and you have kept your word. You did not use your guns against the people. Good. Accept my congratulations, and let me return to you the written undertaking which you gave me, in order that you may use it, if need be, to rehabilitate your reputation with your friends.'
"'I thank you, sir,' he answered, bowing gravely, as he took the paper from me. 'I now understand that a revolutionist may also be a man of honour.'
"He whipped up the horses and drove off, and I have never seen him since. But now you know how I made my first appearance in any revolution, and what was my meaning when I said that it was I who brought about the overthrow of the Orleanists in 1848."
THE SHORT SHRIFT OF THE FILIBUSTER.
"Voyons!" said Stromboli, as he caught me coming out of the gate of Lincoln's Inn, clutched me by the arm, and drew me into the Chancery Lane Bodega. "On the proceeds of my former story I have dined--dined sumptuously--dined several times. Think of it! Several dinners for one story! It is an advantage over the plutocracy and the _bourgeoisie_ at which my heart rejoices."
"But how about the creditors?" I inquired, as we settled down at a small table in a corner.
Stromboli lit his large pipe meditatively.
"The creditors! Precisely. That is the weak point in my position. The great happiness of having money to spend caused me to forget them. Nevertheless, they still exist, and now that the money is gone they write, recalling themselves to my recollection. It is unfortunate. For it seems that, even in this free country of yours, the law gives them the power to make themselves unpleasant."
I assented, and tried to explain to him the exact nature of a judgment summons, and a committal order. Then I continued--
"But you know other stories, I suppose?"
Stromboli banged the table and made the glasses ring, as he answered, half in derision, half in indignation--
"If I know other stories! He asks if I know other stories. When I tell you that I--_moi qui vous parle_--have lain under sentence of death in a Spanish prison at Santiago de Cuba, and escaped from it under circumstances which will not occur again----"
"That sounds all right," I interrupted.
"You really think so?"
"I am quite sure of it."
"Then I must make haste. The letters of the creditors begin, 'Unless----' There is evidently no time to be lost."
"There is no time like the present," I rejoined.
"Let us begin, then. And, since more money is in sight, there is no reason why I should not spend the little money that remains to me. You shall drink champagne with me, and we will smoke cigars."
And then and there, in the corner of the Bodega, while the men about us talked of the business of the Law Courts, and of the price of shares, Stromboli wafted me, in imagination, to the shores of the Pearl of the Antilles, and told me the story which I entitled--
THE SHORT SHRIFT OF THE FILIBUSTER.
"_Voyons_! Filibustering is an important branch of revolution. Though your motives be of the loftiest, yet, if the other side catch you at it, they will shoot you. The danger is the greater because you are generally on the weaker side, and therefore likely to be caught. It is a quick gamble for the heaviest of stakes. I know, for I have played the game. I have been a filibuster.
"It was in Cuba in the early seventies. The island was in revolt, and help was being sent to the rebels by the brave citizens of the United States. And one day, as I sipped my absinthe in the Cafe de Madrid, I was handed a telegram from New York, which ran as follows--
"'Offer you commission in Cuban Army. Start at once; begin as general. Rapid promotion if found satisfactory.'
"I thumped the table and showed the despatch to my companion.
"'To begin as general!' I cried. 'Is this a pleasantry at my expense, or is it not?'
"My companion, who was a man who had travelled widely, assured me that it was not.
"'You think,' I asked, 'that no Cuban would dare to venture upon a pleasantry with Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski?'
"'I am quite sure,' he answered, 'that no Cuban would spend the cost of this cablegram in doing so.'
"'Ah!'
"'Besides, you must remember that in Central American armies there is no lower commissioned rank than that of general. You are invited to begin, like other people, at the bottom of the ladder.'
"'In that case, my friend, it is not a pleasantry, but an affront. Or is it that they are afraid of exciting the jealousy of the other generals, I wonder? I must reflect.'
"I reflected in silence for at least two minutes. Then, having made up my mind, I asked my friend--
"'Do you happen to know what uniform is required by a general in the Cuban service?'
"'In the Central American armies,' my friend answered, 'every general wears the uniform that suits him best.'
"'And do you know when the next boat starts for New York?'
"'In exactly forty-eight hours from now.'
"'In that case there is no time to be lost. I will drive to the tailor's and select a uniform at once.'
"With such celerity did I form my plans. The uniform reached me just in time, neatly packed in a tin box, with my name painted on it. I dressed myself in it for the first time when I had crossed the Atlantic, and proceeded to report myself to the Cuban Junta at New York. It was an imposing uniform,--scarlet and gold lace, with a cocked hat and flaunting plumes. It caused no little admiration when, failing to find a more suitable conveyance, I rode to my destination on a tramcar. I doubt not that it would have made an even greater impression than it did if the Cuban Junta had not happened, at the moment of my call, to be represented by a Yankee.
"'Great snakes alive!' was that gentleman's first exclamation, to which I replied with dignity--
"'You are mistaken, sir. I am the new Cuban general--Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'
"At this he extended his hand to me cordially, continuing in the quaint language of the United States--
"'Glad to see you, General. Proud to make your acquaintance, sir. Reckon you're going to knock the sawdust out of those durned Spaniards presently. But, in the meantime, if you're in a position to put up the greenbacks, hadn't you better buy a store suit to go on with? Your present outfit, though very striking, is better adapted for dictating terms of peace upon the field of carnage than for the requirements of everyday life in New York City--the more so as there is no purpose to be served by showing our plans under the nose of the U.S. Government.'
"He was evidently a practical man--nearly all Americans are practical men--and I agreed with him that it would be easier to keep a secret in a store suit than in a uniform. It was in my store suit, therefore, that I went down according to his directions, to secure my passage to Cuba on board the paddle-steamer _Washington_. And here, once again, I found myself face to face with a practical American.
"'What is your name, sir?' he inquired, when I asked that a cabin should be retained for me, and I told him.
"'It is a name that you should know,' I said. 'I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'
"He did not seem to know me. This time, I imagine, it was my store suit that operated to my disadvantage. He answered me in the usual vernacular--
"'Seems, stranger, that's more name than there is room for in the space provided. Reckon if I enter you on this ship's books as John A. Strongboiler, that's name enough for you to sail under. Then, in case of accidents, you can say you're an American citizen, trading in cigars, and claim the protection of the Stars and Stripes.'
"He was evidently a thoroughly practical man. As a rule, it may be undignified for a general officer to disguise himself as a cigar merchant. But circumstances alter cases, and the circumstances were exceptional. So I consented, and the American shook me by the hand, saying--
"'Right, General. John A. Strongboiler doesn't need learning by heart, like the other name. And now, to show that no offence is taken, kindly name your poison.'
"So we pledged each other in a curiously concocted beverage, with plenty of powdered ice in it; and thus it was, as you see, under the strange style of John A. Strongboiler, dealer in cigars, that I sailed from New York City in the paddle-steamer _Washington_ (Captain Jonathan K. Jenkins), to take up my position as a general in the Cuban Army. If I could only have foreseen! But I must not anticipate.
"We touched at Kingston, Jamaica, where we took aboard a cargo of various munitions of war, together with a number of fresh passengers--brave men, who, like myself, had enlisted as generals in the Cuban service. I invited them all to drink with me, and they did so, for it is the custom of the country. For the rest, the voyage was uneventful until the hour when our terrible catastrophe began.
"It was early, and I had left my berth to pace the deck and enjoy the fresh coolness of the morning air. Captain Jonathan K. Jenkins was there also. Through his telescope he was intently observing the movements of some craft which he evidently regarded with suspicion. Finally he closed the glass with a bang and said laconically--
"'Wal, I'm durned!'
"'What is it, Captain?' I asked, and he replied, in the American language--
"'That's a Spaniard, or I'm a Dutchman. And looking out for us. And meaning mischief. Guess, if we don't make tracks, it'll be a bad look out for all you generals.'
"'Would you like me to call a council of war, Captain?' I suggested. 'The other generals are still asleep, but----'
"He answered curtly--
"'Council of war be durned! Reckon I'm the captain of this ship, any way, and what I say goes.'
"And with that he shouted orders right and left, and altered the ship's course, and the long chase began.
"Shall I describe it? That, surely, is hardly necessary. One chase at sea is very like another. Only in this chase there were one or two moments that have specially branded themselves upon my memory.
"For hours our pursuer had gained upon us, but so slowly that we were hardly aware of his approach, and were confident of reaching a British port in safety. Then came the engineer with the terrible message--
"'Sorry, Captain, but we're just about through with the coal.'
"Never shall I forget the quick energy with which Captain Jonathan K. Jenkins confronted the emergency. He hardly seemed to be excited.
"'Wal,' he said. 'Ain't there other things that'll burn besides coal. Ain't there oil? Ain't there hams and bacon? Ain't there chairs and tables? Fling 'em in. Fling the durned ship herself into the furnaces sooner than let the engines stop.'
"We did it. I myself--Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski--worked like a common sailor, tearing up the planks and hewing down the bulwarks to supply the flames with fuel. Others, meanwhile, were busy lightening up the ship by heaving cargo overboard. Even the horses that we carried with us had to be thrown into the water. My heart bled for those poor horses as I saw their struggles; for, after all, it was a useless sacrifice. The Spaniard gained on us continually as we neared the Jamaica coast. Shots crossed our bows, warning us to surrender or be sunk.
"Then it was that a sudden uproar arose among the sailors.
"''Tain't the horses the Spaniards want. It's the Dagos. Fling them out a few Dagos and they'll stop worriting fast enough.'
"It was one of those chances that a man gets now and then of showing the metal that he is made of. The Cubans had drawn their knives; the crew were ready to rush upon them with oars and marling-spikes and every other handy weapon; Captain Jenkins had cocked his revolver and was prepared to shoot. I saw my opportunity and stepped forward to calm the tumult.
"'Captain,' I said, 'let there be no question of throwing me overboard. If you think that I can save your ship by jumping overboard, you have only to say the word and I'll do it.'
"Still overawing the mutinous sailors with the pistol, the captain gripped me by the hand.
"'Strongboiler,' he said, 'you're a gentleman, though Dagos don't run to it as a rule. But we don't do these things on board American vessels. We sink or swim together.'
"And with that he gave the order to heave to, and the Spaniards boarded us. The captain greeted them with violent language.
"'What the blazes! These are British waters, ain't they? Jamaica three-mile limit. And this is the United States trading steamer, _Washington_, cleared from Kingston, Jamaica, for San Domingo. If you've got your doubts about it, look at the ship's papers and be durned!'
"'You can show your papers to the Governor, when you get to Santiago de Cuba,' was the Spanish officer's reply. 'In the meantime, you are my prisoners, and it's there that I'm going to take you.'
"He disarmed us all and put a prize crew on board; and the Spanish gunboat _Tornado_ took the trading steamer _Washington_ in tow, and headed straight for Santiago Harbour.
"Santiago de Cuba! To think that one of the loveliest spots upon God's earth should be given over to the abominations of these butchers!
"It was just at sunrise, on one of the loveliest mornings that I have ever known, that we made our way slowly through the narrow entrance to the bay. On either side of us low ridges of rolling hills, crowned with dark woods and verdant meadows; the bright plumage of tropical birds glancing among the trees where we hugged the shore beside the forest; here and there in the distant uplands the white walls of some country house, with the blue smoke rising like incense, untroubled by any breath of air. A scene of greater peacefulness could hardly be, save for the blue fins of the sharks that followed us, as though aware that we were journeying to our doom.
"Yet I held my head high in spite of all. Something might always happen; some chance might always show itself to the man who gave his whole mind to watching for it. Your true gambler with Death never loses hope until the hour actually comes when he must pay the forfeit.
"It seemed, however, that that hour was very near and quite inevitable. A message was conveyed to us.
"'A court-martial, for the trial of the prisoners, will sit at noon, in the _Tornado_, under the presidency of General Burriel, Governor of Santiago.' And you know what a Spanish court-martial is! It is the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition. Its purpose is not to judge, but to condemn. So that I had little hope of justice and less of mercy when my turn came to be haled before it. Only of one thing I was resolved.'
"'At least,' I said to myself, 'I will hold my head high. At least I will not beg for pity.'
"My turn came.
"Informal, but ferocious; that is how I must describe the court that sat in judgment over me. A pleasant awning was hung upon the deck. A table, with pens, ink, and paper upon it, was set for the president of the court. The other officers composing it lounged around, in a semicircle, in comfortable chairs. They drank and smoked cigarettes, and laughed gaily together, as though the sentencing of men to death were the most agreeable diversion that they knew. And I stood before them, handcuffed and guarded by marines.
"'What do you say that your name is?' was the first question put to me, and my answer was defiant.
"'It is a name that you know well enough. I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'
"For I had forgotten. The president had a list of the crew and passengers in front of him, and desired me to find my name in it. As well as my fetters would let me, I pointed, and then, when it was too late, I perceived the blunder that I had made.
"A grim and cruel smile appeared upon General Burriel's face. From the paper in front of him he read aloud the words--
"'John A. Strongboiler, dealer in cigars.' Then he pointed to me, and to the tin box, with 'Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski' painted on it, which lay upon the deck with other _pieces de conviction_, ready to be used when needed. Then he spoke slowly, with a bitter ring in his lines--
"'Untie the prisoner and let him open the box. Without doubt it is his cigar-box. If it is found to contain enough cigars to give the members of this court one hundred each, I undertake that the prisoner shall be acquitted.'
"Well, I have no surprise in store for you. You know quite well what was in the box. Under the bayonets of the marines I unpacked it defiantly; and as each article came forth--the cocked hat, the heavy boots, the scarlet tunic, the pipe-clayed breeches--the deck of the _Tornado_ literally shook with shrieks of laughter. Yes, for the first and last time in my life, I, Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski was laughed at to my face.
"Perhaps for an instant the thought crossed my mind that these men would be merciful to me because I had afforded them amusement. If so, it was a thought that was dispelled with great rapidity. The members of the court-martial conferred aloud, with mocking laughter.
"'A man who travels under a false name----'
"'Talks Spanish----'
"'Says that he is an American----'
"'Though apparently a Pole----'
"'And carries a uniform about with him in a box----'
"'Which he pretends is a cigar box----'