Wounded Name — Chapter 6: The Road to the Beech Tree, part 4
(7) About two o'clock he was sitting at the rough table trying to work out a map from memory (all his effects having been lost at the bridge) when he heard something like an altercation at the door.
The next moment it opened to admit a man who shut it behind him and stood facing him without a word--a lean, tallish man of about thirty-five, hard-featured and blue-eyed, and bareheaded save for a bandage round his forehead.
Aymar stared at him, amazed almost beyond speech.
"Good God!
De Fresne!
Then you were not----" "I escaped--a careless sentry.
No, not killed, if that is what you mean.
Did you think I was?"
Aymar's head swam for a moment.
He was unfeignedly glad, but with de Fresne he would probably have to have the matter out.
He sprang up, holding out his hand.
"Need I say what I feel?
But you are hurt!"
"Nothing much.
I was stunned for a time."
Then, glancing at his leader's outstretched hand, the second-in-command looked him in the face.
"I can take your hand, La Rocheterie; can you take mine?"
The red ran over Aymar's features from chin to brow, and, ebbing, left him very pale.
He dropped his hand.
"What have you heard?"
Still looking at him very hard de Fresne put a hand inside his coat.
"I have _seen_ something--something I would almost give my eyes not to have seen--my own letter in the hands of the enemy!
But since, in spite of it, I find you here with the men, cannot I hope that there is some mistake about it--that it was stolen .
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lost .
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mislaid, perhaps .
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and that you did not deliberately send it to Colonel Richard as he says you did?"
There was entreaty and pain in the harsh voice, and a loophole in what it said.
No!
"I would rather not lie to you, de Fresne," answered L'Oiseleur.
"I .
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did send your letter to Colonel Richard.
I will tell you why."
"If you please," said the other stiffly.
"You will pardon me if I sit down."
And he walked past him to the table.
"I am sorry I have no wine to offer you," said Aymar.
"When did you last have food?"
"I need nothing, thank you."
He had spread out the letter on the table and sat back, rather haggard under his bandage.
Aymar came and sat down opposite him.
"How did you get the letter back?"
he asked quietly.
"Colonel Richard had me in when I was recovered, and asked me if I had really written it, and if I thought you had really sent it.
I said that was inconceivable, till I .
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till I saw the deciphered passages and recognized your writing.
On that I said it must have been stolen from you, and I asked for it, and Richard let me have it--was glad, I think, to be rid of it, as if it soiled his fingers--and when I escaped .
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For God's sake, La Rocheterie, be quick and explain the business!"
"It is quite simple," answered Aymar with dry lips.
"I took a risk which I see now that I ought never to have taken."
And, after a moment's preparation, he embarked on the story, leaving out all reference to Mme de Villecresne, and making it appear that he had sent the letter purely as part of a ruse--as he so nearly had done.
To avow, with the blood scarcely dry on the stones of Pont-aux-Rochers, that he had sent it to save her was more than he could bring himself to do.
It would be dishonouring her.
Yet he knew that the suppression was hazardous.
"And that is the explanation," said de Fresne slowly at the end.
"That is why I find my letter in the enemy's possession, and why there has been this horrible disaster--merely because you were tempted to bring off a coup?
And that is all you have to tell me?"
"Yes, that is all," said Aymar with a slight shade of hauteur.
De Fresne suddenly pushed away his chair and rose, went to the little unglazed window and looked out, then came back and flung himself down again.
Aymar watched him, sick at heart.
He _knew_--or else he disbelieved.
"But there is more," the elder man jerked out.
"There is more--you know it!
Why do you keep back half, you whom I have never known to lie, when I want so much to believe you?
What about that bargain with Colonel Richard?"
"I have not said anything about a bargain."
"Exactly.
That is what I complain of.
Because Colonel Richard did."
For the second time Aymar turned white.
"What did he tell you?"
"Merely that--that you sent the letter as part of a bargain struck with him.
He did not specify what the compact was.
But how could any compact with the enemy be honourable?
You tell me the whole thing was a ruse;
perhaps the bargain was part of the ruse then--a mere pretext to make them swallow the bait?
If so, of course .
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."
He looked at him questioningly.
And L'Oiseleur sat silent, very pale, staring at the knots in the rough table.
Since, miracle of mercy, Colonel Richard had held his tongue as to the nature of the bargain and since, in the event (though not in intention) the bargain had proved a farce, no bargain at all, how easy to say so?
But he had enough on his soul.
He shook his head.
"You will not tell me what it is?"
asked de Fresne.
"No. But there was nothing dishonourable in it.
I got nothing----" But here he stopped.
"Then who did?
There must be two parties to a bargain.
Is there any one in the world, La Rocheterie, for whom you ought to sacrifice four hundred men--and your own honour?"
Aymar winced.
"I have told you, de Fresne," he said rather hotly, "that the last idea in my mind was the possibility of my men's being victims.
Have I shown myself so careless of them in the past?"
De Fresne shook his bandaged head.
"It looks very bad.
If you refuse to say what the bargain was, it will certainly be thought to be a dishonourable one."
"I cannot help what people think.
And--pardon me for referring to it--I have a certain reputation."
"Yes," agreed the older man.
"Yes, that is the tragedy of it."
He put his hands up to his head and sighed.
"Such an unheard-of thing--to send a letter with vital information straight to the enemy.
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You have offered me an explanation which I do not doubt is true as far as it goes, but which has the most important factor left out.
How can you expect it to satisfy me?
My opinion, you will perhaps retort, is not of much account, but you must recognize yourself, La Rocheterie, that you are in a horrible position.
This story will be all over Brittany in a few days, for all Richard's officers know that you sent the letter."
"Well?"
"What steps are you going to take about it?"
"None," replied L'Oiseleur, leaning his head on his hand.
De Fresne stared at him, frowning.
"I do not think that you are taking this business seriously enough."
And at that Aymar raised his head and laughed.
"Yes, if not having had any sleep for two nights, if thinking about it every moment of the twenty-four hours, and having only this morning finally made up my mind not to blow my brains out is not taking it seriously, then I am not doing so!"
"I'm sorry," said his lieutenant briefly.
"Do you intend, then, just to go on and disregard--what will be said?"
"I thought I would try that," replied Aymar, leaning back in his chair and suddenly looking very young and tired.
"I would rather tell the men, but it could do no good, and I think I ought to pull the remnant together and keep the enemy's communications cut a little longer.
--You see, after all, I am not entirely bought by the Imperialists!"
"I never said you were," retorted de Fresne gruffly.
"But I think that you will find yourself obliged to take some definite step.
--May I say what I think you ought to do?"
The young man nodded.
"Give up your command for the time, go to Sol de Grisolles, and ask for a military enquiry, so that you can justify yourself."
"Give up my command--have myself put under arrest!"
exclaimed L'Oiseleur.
"No, certainly not!"
He looked at the giver of this unwelcome advice a moment and added, "May I ask what you mean by 'ought'--that it would be to my advantage, or that you conceive it to be my duty?"
"Both," answered de Fresne with brevity.
Aymar's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Are you going to teach me----" he began, and then, with a great effort, stopped himself.
"Tell me, have you communicated any of your knowledge to the men?"
"No, of course I have not.
Except for some necessary converse with them--in which I learnt that you were here--and for trying to assuage a certain excitement that there was over my reappearance, I came straight to you.
--You are aware, no doubt, that they are out of hand?"
"Very well aware!
And yet you suggest that I should vacate my command!"
"It would not, I admit, be a happy moment to succeed you, La Rocheterie, even temporarily.
But I will take the command--if you offer it me."
Aymar sprang to his feet.
"Monsieur de Fresne!
This is a little too strong!
I gave you leave to advise me, not to dictate to me!"
"Don't quarrel with me, La Rocheterie!
believe me, I don't want to!"
And de Fresne's tone showed it.
"Won't you do it?"
he asked again after a pause.
"It is the only profitable step that you can take."
And for an instant or two, as well as his wearied brain would let him, the young man did weigh the proposal.
But he had just, with no small effort, screwed himself up to quite another course.
This course would involve having the core of the business dragged out into the light of day, the unveiling of Avoye's unconscious share in the disaster, the bandying about of her name, her relations to him.
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"I am sure that you are advising me to the best of your ability, de Fresne," he said more gently.
"And I beg your pardon if I was rather short with you just now, for, Heaven knows, it would be a thankless task you would take up.
But I cannot do what you ask."
Nicolas de Fresne sat for a moment without moving; then he got to his feet with a sigh.
"Very well," he said.
He looked down at his left side.
"My sword is in the enemy's hands, so I am unable to ask you to accept it, save figuratively."
Aymar stepped backwards as if he had been struck.
"I cannot do anything else," said de Fresne, looking at the hut wall beyond him.
"You are resigning because I will not!"
"If you like to put it that way."
"Then you .
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you do think that ugly thing of me, de Fresne!
Don't you know me--don't you know my family history?
You, who have fought with me, and know what memories I carry, you think I _could_ betray my dead!"
"I cannot reconcile it with my sense of honour," replied de Fresne, standing up very stiff--the stiffer, no doubt, that he was moved by the agony in the appeal, "that you refuse to take the obvious method of clearing your name.
I do not say that I think you a traitor, for, as you say, I know you.
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But, painful as it is, I must ask you to excuse me from serving under you any longer."
Save for the sweep of a pine-branch over the roof the silence was then absolute.
In that silence Aymar put his left hand on his sword; and very slowly his head went down on his breast.
When he lifted it his mouth was set, his eyes very bright.
"I hope my sense of honour is not less keen than yours, Monsieur de Fresne," he said quietly.
"I must beg to refuse your sword.
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I will ask you, instead, to accept mine."
And, unfastening it, sheath and all, he laid it on the table with the hilt towards his second-in-command.
(8) ".
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Does not that satisfy you?"
asked Aymar after a moment.
"I cannot do more."
De Fresne woke from what seemed a stupor.
"You have done too much.
Take it back--I never meant that!
I have no right to demand your sword.
Take it and put it into the General's hands."
His leader gave a little smile.
"I had just as soon surrender it to you;
and you have none yourself now.
--But perhaps you would rather not wear mine."
De Fresne looked from the sheathed blade on the table to its owner, and abruptly held out his hand.
But Aymar shook his head.
"No--not yet.
Afterwards, if you like.
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And now, how are you going to account to the men for my departure?"
"You will have to say something yourself, I think, L'Oiseleur.
--My God, how I hate doing this!"
Aymar had sat down again.
"Let me put you in possession of certain facts before I leave you," he said composedly.
"First, about du Tremblay.
Of course I--you--cannot support him now.
I sent de Soulanges to him on Saturday morning with the news, but you must know nevertheless what his plans are.
I believe I have not yet destroyed the cipher notes I made at our interview."
He searched in a pocket.
"No, here they are; and I can leave them with you as a memorandum.
I put them into cipher because secrecy as to his real intention is all important.
You see that on Friday next he proposes to move along the Aven in such a way as to deceive the Bonapartists into thinking that he means to cross.
But he will not cross; his real objective is Chalais, which, having caused the enemy to concentrate, as he hopes, on the wrong side of the river, he calculates on carrying by a coup de main.
Meanwhile--what's that?"
He sprang up, thrusting the paper back into his pocket, for there had come a sudden rush of feet and of excited voices outside, and--an unprecedented thing--the hut door was abruptly flung wide, revealing two or three of the Eperviers.
For a second L'Oiseleur stood amazed;
the next, he strode forward.
"What is the meaning of this?
Who told you to come here?"
A confused babel from outside answered him.
All his remaining men appeared to be there, and among them, of course, the towering form of Magloire Le Bihan.
But he seemed to be trying to keep the crowd back.
"If you have a spokesman I will hear you," said Aymar, frowning.
"Otherwise, leave my quarters at once!"
One of the foremost invaders, advancing a little over the threshold, thereupon threw out a hand towards de Fresne, and said meaningly, "Perhaps _he_ can explain what happened at Pont-aux-Rochers!"
And instantly other voices took him up.
"He knows who the traitor was!"
"L'Oiseleur, make him tell us!"
A swift glance passed between Aymar and his subordinate.
It was seen and misunderstood.
A roar went up.
"Comrades, it was M. de Fresne himself!
And L'Oiseleur knows it!"
More Chouans began to crowd in, threateningly; the narrow doorway was blocked.
Very angry, Aymar advanced on the invaders.
"Leave my quarters at once, men!"
he said imperiously.
"No, M. de Fresne is no traitor--far from it!
There has been no treachery in this business, only a mistake."
The Eperviers retreated a little from before him, but the hut was not cleared.
"Mistake .
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mistake!"
the word was flung about.
"A mistake that needs atoning for!"
"M. de Fresne's then!"
"Let M. de Fresne explain why he led us into an ambush!"
"Aye, and let him explain why he moved us out of the wood here while L'Oiseleur was away!"
"M. de Fresne has nothing to account for," cried his leader hotly.
"And if he had, he accounts for it to me, and not to you!"
"L'Oiseleur knows that it is M. de Fresne," repeated the originator of this idea stubbornly.
"That was why he came riding all that way to warn us.
Let M. de Fresne come out and answer for himself!"
They were horribly tenacious when once they had got an idea into their heads; Aymar knew that well.
And this most fallacious notion must be dispelled at all costs.
A little behind him, his arms folded, de Fresne was now facing the intruders with a slightly ironical expression.
The men pushed forward once more.
"Give us up M. de Fresne, Monsieur de la Rocheterie!
Let him come out and explain to us!"
And all at once a perfect howl went up.
"What is that paper he is putting into his coat?"
For the elder man, suddenly remembering the incriminating letter lying on the table behind him, had turned his back, and was now thrusting it into his breast.
"Go out of this place!"
exclaimed L'Oiseleur.
He laid a hand on his pistol.
"I will shoot the first man who stirs another step.
Go outside, all of you!"
They surged back a little.
"May I speak to you, sir?"
enquired Magloire from his place in the rear.
Aymar could not but motion him to come forward.
After all, he was an officer, and had certainly not been inciting the rest .
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at this moment, anyhow.
The giant came, saluting.
