Napoleon And Blucher Part 69

"Christian," said Blucher, in a subdued voice, "I am going to see whether you are really a faithful fellow, and whether I may confide something to you."

"Very well, field-marshal, put me to the test."

"Not so loud!" cried Biucher, anxiously. "Let us first discover whether any one can hear us here." He opened the door, and looked into the antechamber. No one was there. He then examined the dark alcove adjoining the sitting-room, which was empty, too. "We are alone; no one can overhear us," said Blucher, returning from his reconnoissance to the sitting-room. "Now, pipe-master, listen to me.

First, however, look at my eyes, do you hear; look closely at them.

Well, how do they look?"

"Very sore," said Christian, mournfully.

"And they have not grown better, though Voelzke, the surgeon-general has been doctoring them every day; and, by his salves, mixtures, leeches, and blisters, causing me almost as much pain as the eyes themselves. Nay, they grow rather worse from day to day, and if I remain here longer, and allow the physicians to torment me, I shall finally lose my eyesight altogether, and when I am blind, I shall be of no account--unable to use my sword and fight Bonaparte. I am afraid the good G.o.d will not permit me to pull down Bonaparte from his throne. He knows I should then be too happy, and therefore says, 'Gotthold Leberecht Blucher, I have permitted thee to bring Bonaparte to the brink of ruin; now thine armies are close to Paris, and will, without thee, get into the city. Go, therefore, old boy, and have thine eyes cured!' Well, I will comply with G.o.d's will, and go to some place and have myself healed, where they know better how to do it than our doctors here. I have been told that there are excellent oculists at Brussels, and Brussels is not very far from here. I will, therefore, go there."

"The field-marshal intends to retreat, then?" said Christian, laconically.

"Retreat!" cried Blucher, angrily. "Who takes the liberty of saying that Field-Marshal Blucher intends to retreat?"

"I take that liberty," said Christian. "The field-marshal intends to retreat from the inflammation of his eyes."

"Why, yes; that is an enemy from which it is no disgrace to retreat."

"A retreat is always a retreat," said Christian, with a shrug, "and if you carry out your intention you will no longer be called Marshal Forward!"

"I do not care to be called so now!" exclaimed Blucher. "The inflammation of my eyes has made me desperate; I shall lose my sight if I stay here, and then they will lead me by the nose like a blind bear. There is no use in talking any more about it; I will and must go. If you do not wish to accompany me say so, and you may stay here."

"If you go, then I will too," said Christian, with his usual calmness, "for where the field-marshal is the pipe-master must be; that is a matter of course. I have pledged my word to my father, to Madame von Blucher, and to the good G.o.d, that I would never leave my general, and it makes no difference if he is field-marshal now. If they do not shoot me, I shall stay with my field-marshal."

"Christian," said Blucher, offering him his hand, "you are a dear boy; your heart is in the right place, and it is always the best thing in a man. When we get back to Kunzendorf you shall lead a very pleasant life, for I can never forget what a faithful and excellent young fellow you have been. Then you will go with me?"

"Yes, to the end of the world, general!"

"Well, we shall not go so far as that--only to Brussels, where there are good oculists; and when they have cured me, I will see whether they still need me here, and whether every thing has then been done to my liking."

"Oh, I believe it will be then as it is now," said Christian, in a contemptuous tone. "When Marshal Forward is no longer here, things will go backward, that is sure. But we need not care, for we shall go forward to Brussels."

"Yes, to Brussels," said Blucher; "we set out to-night; but no one must know it; I will leave as quietly as possible. I cannot stand bidding them all farewell, and listening to their fine speeches; I will leave, therefore, so that no one shall discover it before I am gone."

"A secret flight!" said Christian, laconically.

"Secret flight? how stupid!" grumbled Blucher. "It is strange what ridiculous words the boy uses! How a flight? I believe I am no prisoner."

"No, but you are field-marshal."

Blucher's red eyes cast an angry glance on the bold pipe-master.

"You talk as you understand it," he cried; "when I am a poor blind fellow, swallowing powders and using salves all day I am no longer a field-marshal and had better resign, not waiting to be deposed by a few polite phrases. That is the reason why I am going to leave."

"And I leave, too," said Christian; "but as the field-marshal does not wish me to say any thing about it, of course I shall not. But how are we to get away, if no one is to be informed?"

"Well, listen! I will tell you. I have already devised the whole plan of operations, and--but, hark! something seems moving in the alcove, as if a door opened."

"There is no door in the alcove," said Christian; "it was, perhaps, a mouse, and it tells no tales. Inform me, field-marshal, what I have to do."

"Well, listen, Christian!" And the field-marshal began to explain to him, in his vivacious manner, the whole plan of his departure.

Christian comprehended it, and entered very seriously into the duties of quartermaster-general to his field-marshal.

"Do you remember it all now?" asked Blucher, at the conclusion of their conference. "Do you know all that you have to do?"

"I know all," said Christian. "In the first place, I am to go to General Gneisenau and inform him that the field-marshal is sick and confined to his bed to-day, and refuses to see any one. General Gneisenau will mention it, of course, to Surgeon-General Dr.

Voelzke, who will come to see the field-marshal. I am to tell him that he is in so much pain from his inflamed eyes that he had ordered me to admit no one--that he is trying to sleep. Then I am to come back to you, and your excellency will give me the farewell letters to General Gneisenau, whereupon I am to pack up your things and lock the bags. When it grows dark, I am to carry them secretly into our carriage. Then it will suddenly occur to your excellency to take an airing, the sun having set, and therefore unable to hurt your eyes. I am to accompany you, and we shall not come back."

"No, we shall not come back," said Blucher, thoughtfully. "Well, every thing is settled now; run, and attend to what I told you. We shall set out at seven o'clock to-night."

Christian hastened away. Blucher looked after him with a mournful glance and a deep sigh. "The die is cast," he murmured to himself; "now I am indeed a poor old invalid, no longer of any use. G.o.d has refused to fulfil my dearest wish; He would not let me hurl Bonaparte from his stolen throne. I must face about at the gates of Paris, and creep back into obscurity. Well, let G.o.d's will be done!

I have labored as long as there was daylight; now comes the night, when I can work no more. Ah, my poor sore eyes! I--but there is, after all, some one in the alcove," cried Blucher, springing to his feet. Again he heard a noise as of footsteps, and an opening door.

He bounded into the alcove, but all was still; no one was there, and no door to be seen. "I was mistaken," he said. "A bad conscience is a very queer thing. Because I am about to do something secret, I am thinking that eavesdroppers are watching me and trying to forestall me."

It was seven in the evening; the sun had set. Field-Marshal Blucher, who was very sick all day, now intended to take an airing. The pipe- master had, therefore, ordered the coachman; and the field-marshal's carriage, drawn by four black horses, had just come to the door.

Blucher was still in his room, but all his preparations were completed. On the table lay two letters--one addressed to the king, the other to General Gneisenau; the carpet-bags had already been conveyed into the carriage, together with his pipe-box. The invalid had only to wrap himself in his military cloak, leave the room, and enter the carriage; but he still hesitated. An anxiety, such as he had never known before, had crept over him; and, what had never before happened to him, his heart beat with fear. "That was just wanting to me," he murmured. "I have become a white-livered coward, whose legs are trembling, and whose heart is throbbing! What am I afraid of, then? Is that wrong which I am about to do? My heart has never acted thus even in the storm of battle. What does it mean?

Bah! it is folly; no attention should be paid to it. I hope, however, that no one will meet me when I go down-stairs, or at the carriage when I enter it. Let me see if there is any one in the street." He quickly stepped to the window and looked out; there was no one in the street, or near his carriage. "I will go now," said Blucher, turning again toward the room. "I--" He paused, and a blush suffused his cheeks. There, in the middle of the room, stood General Gneisenau, and gazed at him with a strange, mournful air.

"Gneisenau, is it you?" asked Blucher, in a faltering voice. "How did you get in?"

"Simply by the door, your excellency," said Gneisenau, smiling.

"Your pipe-master kept the door closed all day, and turned me away by informing me the field-marshal had ordered him to admit no one, because he wished to sleep; but my desire to see you brought me back again and again, and so I have come, fortunately at the opportune hour, when the Cerberus is no longer at the door, but is standing below at the carriage, waiting for the field-marshal, who intends to take an airing."

"Yes, I do," said Blucher, casting an anxious glance on the two letters lying on the table. "I do intend to take an airing; good-by, then, Gneisenau!" He turned toward the door, but Gneisenau kept him back. "Your excellency must not ride out to-night," he said; "I implore you not to do so. There is a cold wind, and you must not expose your inflamed eyes to it. You are not careful enough of your health; Surgeon-General Voelzke complains of the little attention you pay to his proscriptions, and that your eyes, instead of getting better, are growing worse and worse."

"Yes, that is true," grumbled Blucher, "they are burning like fire.

I will go out, therefore; the night-wind will cool them."

He turned again toward the door, but at this moment it was thrust open, and Surgeon-General Voelzke entered the room. "I am told your excellency intends to take an airing," said the physician, almost indignantly. "But I declare that I cannot permit it. You have intrusted yourself to my treatment; I am responsible to G.o.d, to the king, to the whole world--nay, to history, if I allow you to rush so recklessly to destruction; I will not suffer it; your excellency must not ride out!"

"I should like to see who is to prevent me!" cried Blucher, striding toward the door.

"The physician will prevent you," said Voelzke, standing in the doorway with his large, tall form. "The physician has the right of giving orders to kings and emperors, and Marshal Forward has to submit to his commands, too."

"I do not think of it," said Blucher; "I do not permit any one to give me orders."

"Not even your disease--your inflamed eyes?" asked Voelzke, solemnly. "Did you not obey when your fever and inflamed eyes commanded you to remain idle at Laon for ten days, although you were in a towering pa.s.sion, and were bent on advancing with the army?

Well, your excellency, I tell you, if you do not now obey me. and consent to desist from taking an airing--if you are determined to ride out in the cold night-air, one more powerful than I am will compel you to obey; and that one is your disease. You may ride out today, but to-morrow it will command you to keep your bed, the inflammation of your eyes will make you a prisoner, and you will be unable to flee from it, notwithstanding your imperious will, or your four-horsed carriage."

"Well, well," said Blucher, "you put on such solemn airs as almost to frighten me. It is true, my disease is very powerful, and this soreness of my eyes has already rendered me so desperate that--"

"That your excellency has written letters," interposed Gneisenau, pointing to the table. "But, what do I see? There is one addressed to me!"

"No, give it to me," cried Blucher, embarra.s.sed; "now that you are here, I can tell you every thing verbally, and it is unnecessary for you to read what I have written."

He was about to seize the letter, but Gneisenau drew hack a step, and, bowing deeply said, "Your excellency has done me the honor of writing to me. Permit me, therefore, to read." He stepped quickly into the window-niche, and opened the letter.

"Well, stand back there, doctor," cried Blucher, "let me out! Do not make me angry; leave the door!"