The Son of Clemenceau Part 15

CHAPTER XIII.

THE REVOLUTION IN ARTILLERY.

"Oh, what is that?" muttered Cesarine, with white lips.

Hedwig laughed, but going to the window, calmly replied:

"It is only the master--no, it is M. Antonino, who is trying the rifle they invented. Isn't it funny, though--it does not use powder or anything of that sort--it does not shoot out fire, but only the bullet, and there's no smoke! I never heard of such a thing, and I call it magic!"

"A gun without powder, and no fire or smoke," repeated Madame Clemenceau. "It is, indeed, a marvel!" and she approached the window in uncontrollable curiosity. "Is he going to shoot again?"

"Well, he gets an appet.i.te by popping at the sparrows before breakfast.

He is not much of a marksman like master, who is dead on the center, every military officer says--but, in the morning, the birds' wings are heavy with dew, and he makes a very pretty bag now and then. What must the sparrows think to be killed and not smell any powder!"

"I wish you would tell him to go farther, or leave off!" said Cesarine, looking out at the young man with the light rifle, fascinated but fearing.

"The obedience will be more prompt if you would tell him, madame,"

returned the maid, "for M. Antonino would do anything for you. To think that there should really be something that frightens you!"

"After my illness, I am afraid of everything."

"Very well, I will stop him."

Opening the window, Hedwig called to the Italian by name, and said, on receiving his answer:

"Please not to shoot any more!"

"Why not?" came the reply in the mellow voice of the Italian.

"Come in and you'll learn." But she shut the window to intimate that he was to enter the house by the door as he had issued, and hastily returned to her mistress.

The latter had tottered to the side-board, and seized a decanter, but, in the act of pouring out a gla.s.s of water, she paused suspiciously.

"Is this good to drink?" she warily inquired.

"Of course, though you are quite right--they do juggle with a lot of queer acids and the like dangerous stuff here! They give me the warning sometimes after their _swim-posiums_, as they call the sociables, not to touch anything till they come down, for poisons are about. Ugh! But do not drink so much cold water so early in the morning--it is unhealthy.

If it were only good beer, now, it would not matter! _Ach_, Muchen!" and Hedwig vulgarly smacked her lips.

"After my illness I have been always thirsty, and, sometimes, I seem to have infernal fires in my bosom!" sighed Madame Clemenceau, putting down the gla.s.s with a hand so hot that the crystal was clouded with steam.

Her teeth chattered, as a sudden chill followed the flush, and Hedwig shrank back in alarm--the beautiful face became transformed into such a close likeness to a wolf's. "You need not be scared any more, for he has come into the house. Here he is, too!" and she sprang to the door, as well to open it to M. Antonino, as to screen her mistress until she cared to reveal her presence.

Perhaps it was application to the work and not pining over the absence of Cesarine, but the Italian showed evidence of sleeplessness and his pallor had the unpleasant cast of the Southerners when out of spirits.

His eyes were enfevered and his lips dry and cracked. He carried a handsome fowling-piece, which presented, at first glance, no feature of dissimilarity to the usual pattern except that trigger and hammer were absent, and the rim of the barrel was not blackened from the recent discharge.

"What did you stop me for when I had hardly more than begun my sport and practice?" he inquired.

"Put down that devil's own gun, sir monsieur," said Hedwig, "if you please."

"Why, what's the matter?" said he, while obeying by standing the rifle in a corner. "I thought you Germans were all daughters or sweethearts of soldiers."

"Ay, and most of us women would make as good soldiers as they have here; but I was speaking because you gave a shock to madame."

Stepping aside, Antonino discovered Madame Clemenceau, who smiled softly.

"Oh, madame!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Antonino, at the height of astonishment, not unmixed with gladness. "I beg your pardon; I am very sorry--I mean glad--that is, I was not aware--if I had had any idea you were home--"

"You could not have known," she answered in a gentle voice. "I was too eager to get back, to delay to send a line. As for the noise, another time it might not matter, but I came here by an early morning train and I had no rest before I started. I am very fatigued and nervous, and the shot so sudden, surprised me. For a little while to come, I should like you to repeat your experiments with firearms at a distance from the house. Is--is that the new kind of rifle?" she inquired, with the timidity of a child introduced to the new watchdog.

"Yes, madame!" and his eyes blazing with pride, he proceeded, as he crossed the room and returned with the firearm, "it is altogether a new invention. Master is an innovator, indeed!"

"Do you object to showing it to me?" continued Cesarine, pleased that the enthusiasm gave an excuse for her not entering into an explanation of her absence which, even if more plausible than that Hedwig had doubtingly received, would require all of Antonino's affectionate faith in her to win credence. "I do not object. Even those experienced in the old weapons can inspect it and not learn much," he went on, with the same pride; "but I thought it frightened you!"

"It did--it does, but I ought to overcome such a ridiculous feeling! I, above all women, being a gun-inventor's wife! Is it loaded?" she asked, while hesitatingly holding out her hand to take it.

Hedwig had prudently backed over to the window which she held a little open to make a leap out for escape in case of accident. Her mistress took the rifle and turned it over and over; certainly, it resembled no gun she had ever handled before. Its simplicity daunted her and irritated her.

"It seems to have two barrels," she remarked, "although one is closed as if not to be used. Is it double-barrelled?"

"There are two barrels, or, more accurately speaking, a barrel for discharge of the projectile and a chamber for the explosive substance, which is the secret."

"Then you load by the muzzle, like the old-fas.h.i.+oned guns?"

"Oh, no; there is no load, no cartridge, as you understand it; only the missiles, and they are inserted by the quant.i.ty in the breach."

"And there is no trigger or hammer!" exclaimed Cesarine, not yet at the end of her wonder.

"Obsolete contrivances, always catching in the clothes or in the brambles, and causing the death or maiming of many an excellent man. We have changed all that by doing away with appendages altogether. This disc, when pressed, allows so much of the explosive matter to enter the barrel and it expels the missile by repeated expansions."

"How very, very curious!" exclaimed Madame Clemenceau, returning the piece to Antonino with the vexed air of one reluctantly giving up a puzzle to the solution of which a prize was attached. "I should like you to make it clear to me--"

"The government forbids!" said the Italian, smiling, and a.s.suming a look of preternatural solemnity to make the lady smile and Hedwig laugh respectfully. "And, then, the company we are getting up, lays a farther prohibition on us. However, you are in the arcana--you are one of the privileged, I suppose, and if M. Clemenceau does not expressly bar my lessons, you shall learn how to knock over sparrows for your cat."

"You will instruct me?"

"Most gladly!"

"That is nice of you, and I am so sorry at having interrupted your experiments."

"Thanks; but we have long since gone beyond the experimental stage. I was only trying a new bullet that I fancy the shape of. I ask your pardon for having given you a fright." He took her hand and kissed it.

She beckoned to Hedwig as soon as it was released, and smiled kindly on him as she left the room with her servant to dress befittingly to show herself to Mademoiselle Rebecca. Had it been only her husband to face, she might have been content to look dusty with travel as she had to Antonino.

"How you delight that poor gentleman," observed Hedwig, between pity and admiration. "You would witch an angel."