The Last Cavalier: Being the Adventures of Count Sainte-Hermine in the Age of Napoleon. Alexandre Dumas

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      “‘The captain looked at me; I was weeping. “Of course!” he said. “If that is what would please you both.”

      “‘“I don’t believe,” your brother said with a laugh, “that it will please the boy very much, but it will indeed please me.”

      “‘“Since it’s you who are making the request.”

      “‘“So, you agree?” the prisoner asked.

      “‘“I agree,” the captain answered.

      “‘“You see,” he said as I walked beside him, “so far things are going perfectly well.”

      “‘We marched up the hill, were recognized, and walked across the drawbridge. For a moment we waited in the courtyard while the captain went to announce to the colonel that we had arrived and to communicate to him the execution orders.

      “‘A few minutes later, he reappeared in the doorway. “Are you ready?” he asked the prisoner.

      “‘“Whenever you are, Captain,” the prisoner answered.

      “‘“Do you have any comments to make?”

      “‘“No, but several favors to request.”

      “‘“I shall grant whatever lies within my power.”

      “‘“Thank you, Captain.”

      “‘The captain walked over to your brother. “We may serve under enemy flags, but we are still both French, and good men can spot each other at first sight. What do you wish?”

      “‘“First, that you remove these ropes, which make me look like a thief.”

      “‘“That is only just. Untie the prisoner.”

      “‘I rushed over and grabbed the count’s hands; I had untied him before anyone else had time to draw near.

      “‘“Oh!” said the count, flexing his arms under his coat. “It feels good to be free.”

      “‘“And now,” asked the captain, “what else do you wish?”

      “‘“I would like to be the one to give the order to fire.”

      “‘“You may give the order. Anything else?”

      “‘“I would like to send some souvenir to my family.”

      “‘“You know it is forbidden for anyone to accept letters from political prisoners before they are shot. Anything else, yes.”

      “‘“I don’t want to cause any problems. This is my young countryman, Charles. As you have authorized, he will be accompanying me to the place of execution. He can take responsibility for giving my family, not a letter, but something of mine. This old cap, for example.”

      “‘“Is that all?” asked the captain.

      “‘“I think so,” the count answered. “It is time. I’m beginning to get cold feet, and cold feet are what I hate most in the world. Let’s go, Captain—I presume you are coming with us.”

      “‘“It’s my duty.”

      “‘The count bowed, and with a laugh like a man who is pleased at having gotten what he wanted, he shook my hand.

      “‘“Which way?” he asked.

      “‘“This way,” said the captain, starting out at the head of the column. Following him, we passed through a gate and entered a second courtyard where sentinels were walking back and forth on the ramparts above. The wall at the back of the courtyard was peppered with bullet holes at about a man’s height.

      “‘“Ah, here we are!” said the prisoner, and without instruction or command he walked over to the wall.

      “‘The clerk read the sentence. Your brother nodded as if he accepted it. Then he said, “Excuse me, Captain. I would like a few words with myself.”

      “‘The captain and the soldiers, realizing that he wanted to pray, stepped away. For a moment your brother remained immobile, his arms crossed, his head bowed down against his chest, his lips moving, though no sound came from them. When he raised his head, there was a smile on his face. He embraced me, and as he did, like Charles I of England, he whispered: “Remember.”

      “‘Weeping, I bowed my head.

      “‘Then with a strong voice: “Attention!” said the condemned man.

      “‘The soldiers got ready. The count paused, and as if he did not want to give the order to fire with his head covered, he pulled off his cap, tossed it aside. It fell at my feet.

      “‘“Are you ready?” asked the count.

      “‘“Yes,” replied the soldiers.

      “‘“Ready, aim, fire! Long live the K—” His “King” was lost in the detonations, and seven bullets tore through his chest.

      “‘He fell to the ground facedown. I had dropped to my knees; I was weeping as I’m weeping now.’”

      “And indeed, the poor child was sobbing as he told us how our brother died. We too, Mademoiselle; I swear, we too were weeping hot tears,” Hector said.

      “My elder brother, now the head of the family, reread the letter and embraced Charles. Then, with his arms raised, on the holy relic that was all that remained of our brother, he promised to avenge his death.

      “Oh, what a sad story, monsieur!” said Claire, wiping her tears.

      “Should I continue?” asked Hector.

      “Indeed, yes,” said the girl. “For never have I heard a more heart-wrenching story.”

       XV Charles de Sainte-Hermine [I]

      HECTOR DE SAINTE-HERMINE PAUSED for a moment to let Mademoiselle de Sourdis pull herself together. Then he continued: “As you said, a sad story. And it gets worse. For soon after we received the painful news of Leon’s death, my brother Charles disappeared. He did leave me a rather long letter, though, that said in pretty much these words:

      “‘You don’t need to know, my dear child, where I am or what I’m doing. As you might suspect, I am striving to carry out what I swore I would do: seek vengeance.

      “‘You are now all alone. But you are sixteen years old, and with misfortune as your teacher you will quickly become a man.

      “‘You understand what I mean by becoming a man. A true man is like a solid oak tree with its roots in the past and its branches in the future. It can stand up to anything—to heat, cold, wind, rain, storms, weapons, and gold.

      “‘Keep СКАЧАТЬ