The Frontier Part 40

Philippe felt a need to justify himself:

"You forget, mother, that there was an unexpected factor in the case.

Before the sitting of the Chamber, a telegram had been published reporting the words spoken by the emperor after hearing the Statthalter's explanation."

He pointed to one of the papers:

"Here, mother, read this. These are the emperor's own words: 'Our conscience is now at ease. We had the might; we have the right. G.o.d decide the issue! I am ready.' And the Chamber, when condemning and overthrowing a ministry that was prepared for conciliation, intended to reply to words which it looked upon as provocative."

"Very well," said the old lady. "But, all the same, the report made no difference."

"Yes, that is so."

"Then what was the good of all your fuss and bothering? It was no use doing so much harm, considering that it served no purpose."

Philippe shook his head:

"It had to be. Certain actions must be performed and they should not be judged by the consequences which accident thrusts upon them, but by those which we expected of them, in all human logic and in all good faith."

"Empty phrases!" she said, obstinately. "You ought not to have done it.... It was a very useless piece of heroism...."

"Don't think that, mother. There was no need to be a hero to act as I did. It was enough to be an honest man. No one with the same clear vision as myself of what might happen would have hesitated any more than I did."

"So you regret nothing?"

He took her hand and, sadly:

"Oh, mother, how can you talk like that, you who know me? How can I be indifferent to all this break-up around me?"

He spoke the words with such despondency that she received an insight into his distress. But her anger with him was too great and especially their natures were too different for her to be touched by it. She concluded:

"No matter, my boy, it's all your fault. If you had not listened to Suzanne...."

He did not reply. The accusation cut into the most sensitive part of a wound which nothing could allay; and he was not the man to seek excuses.

"Come," said his mother.

She took him to another room on the second floor, further than the first from that which Marthe occupied:

"Victor will bring you your bag and serve your meals in here; that will be best. And I will let your wife know."

"Give her this letter, which I got ready for her," he said. "It is only asking for an interview, an explanation. She can't refuse."

In this way, in the course of that Tuesday, the Morestal family were once more gathered under the same roof; but in what heart-rending conditions! And how great was the hatred that now divided those beings once united by so warm an affection!

Philippe felt the disaster in a way that was, so to speak, visible and palpable, during these hours in which each of his victims remained locked up, as though in a torture-chamber. Nothing could have distracted his mind from its obsession, and even the fear of that accursed war which he had not been able to avert.

And yet news reached him at every moment, threatening news, like the news of a plague that comes nearer and nearer, despite the distance, despite the intervening waters.

At lunch-time, it was Victor, who had hardly entered the room with Philippe's tray before he exclaimed:

"Have you heard of the telegram from England, sir? The British premier has declared in parliament that, if war came, he would land a hundred thousand men at Brest and Cherbourg. That means an open alliance."

Later on, he heard the gardener's son, Henriot, returning on his bicycle from Saint-elophe, shouting to his father and Victor:

"There's a mutiny at Strasburg! They're barricading the streets! They've blown up one of the barracks!"

And Victor at once telephoned to the _eclaireur des Vosges_, pretending that he was doing so on behalf of M. Morestal, and came running up to Philippe's room:

"M. Philippe, Strasburg is in a state of insurrection.... All the peasants of the country around have taken up arms."

And Philippe reflected that there was no hope, that the governments would have their hands forced. And he reflected upon it almost calmly.

His part was played. Nothing interested him now but his personal sorrow, the health of his father, the sufferings of Marthe and Suzanne, those first victims of the hateful scourge.

At five o'clock, he heard that one of the countries had issued an ultimatum against the other. Which of the two countries? And what was the purport of the ultimatum? He was unable to learn.

At nine o'clock, the telegrams announced that the new cabinet, chosen for the greater part from among the members of the opposition, had moved the immediate creation of "a Committee of National Safety, charged to take all the necessary measures for the defence of the country in case of war." The Chamber had pa.s.sed the motion through its various stages in one sitting and had appointed the Governor of Paris head of the Committee of National Safety, with discretionary powers. This implied an eventual dictators.h.i.+p.

All that Tuesday night, the Old Mill, silent and gloomy within doors, was filled with noise and excitement from without, a prey to the fever that precedes great catastrophes. Victor, the gardener and the gardener's son by turns bicycled at full speed to Saint-elophe, where other people were bringing news from the sub-prefecture. The women moaned and wailed. At three o'clock in the morning, Philippe distinguished the angry voice of Farmer Saboureux.

At daybreak, there was a lull. Philippe, exhausted by so many sleepless nights, ended by dozing off and, while still asleep, heard the sound of footsteps coming and going over the pebbles in the garden. Then, suddenly, pretty late in the morning, he was awakened by a clamour outside.

He sprang out of bed. In front of the steps, Victor leapt from his horse, shouting:

"The ultimatum is rejected. It's war. It's war!"

CHAPTER II

THEY WHO GO TO THEIR DEATH

Philippe went downstairs as soon as he was dressed. He found all the servants gathered in the hall, discussing the news. Victor confirmed it: he had come straight from Noirmont.

Moreover, the postman had heard from a gendarme that the railway-station at the sub-prefecture was occupied by soldiers. He himself, when he left Saint-elophe, had seen army telegraphists on duty in the post-office.

These hasty measures fitted in with the rejection of the ultimatum and went to prove the imminence of the dreaded catastrophe.

Philippe could not help saying:

"That means war."

"It's what I've been shouting from the house-tops for the last two days!" proclaimed Victor, who seemed greatly excited. "Oughtn't we to make preparations, here? At two steps from the frontier?"