EL VERDUGO
BY
HONORE DE BALZAC
Translated By
Katharine Prescott Wormeley
DEDICATION
To Martinez de la Rosa.
EL VERDUGO
The clock of the little town of Menda had just struck midnight. At
that moment a young French officer, leaning on the parapet of a long
terrace which bordered the gardens of the chateau de Menda, seemed
buried in thoughts that were deeper than comported with the lighthearted carelessness of military life; though it must be said that
never were hour, scene, or night more propitious for meditation. The
beautiful sky of Spain spread its dome of azure above his head. The
scintillation of the stars and the soft light of the moon illumined
the delightful valley that lay at his feet. Resting partly against an
orange-tree in bloom, the young major could see, three hundred feet
below him, the town of Menda, at the base of the rock on which the
castle is built. Turning his head, he looked down upon the sea, the
sparkling waters of which encircled the landscape with a sheet of
silver.
The chateau was illuminated. The joyous uproar of a ball, the sounds
of an orchestra, the laughter of the dancers came to him, mingling
with the distant murmur of the waves. The coolness of the night gave
fresh energy to his body, that was tired with the heat of the day.
Besides which, the gardens were planted with trees so balmy and
flowers so sweet, that the young man felt as if plunged in a perfumed
bath.
The chateau de Menda belonged to a grandee of Spain, who was at this
time living there with his family. During the whole evening, the
eldest daughter had looked at the young officer with an interest
expressing extreme sadness, and such implied compassion on the part of
a Spaniard might well have caused the reverie of the Frenchman. Clara
was beautiful; and though she had three brothers and one sister, the
wealth of the Marquis de Leganes seemed sufficient to justify Victor
Marchand in believing that the young lady would be richly dowered. But
could he dare to believe that the daughter of the proudest noble in
Spain would be given to the son of a Parisian grocer? Besides,
Frenchmen were hated. The marquis having been suspected by General
G--t--r, who governed the province, of preparing an insurrection in
favor of Ferdinand VII., the battalion commanded by Victor Marchand
was quartered in the little town of Menda, to hold in check the
neighboring districts, which were under the control of the Marquis de
Leganes.
A recent despatch from Marechal Ney made it seem probable that the
English would soon land a force upon the coast; and he mentioned the
marquis as the man who was believed to be in communication with the
cabinet of London. Thus, in spite of the cordial welcome which that
Spaniard had given to Victor Marchand and his soldiers, the young
officer held himself perpetually on his guard. As he came from the
ballroom to the terrace, intending to cast his eye upon the state of
the town and the outlying districts confided to his care, he asked
himself how he ought to interpret the good will which the marquis
never failed to show him, and whether the fears of his general were
warranted by the apparent tranquillity of the region. But no sooner
had he reached the terrace than these thoughts were driven from his
mind by a sense of prudence, and also by natural curiosity.
He saw in the town a great number of lights. Although it was the feast
of Saint James, he had, that very morning, ordered that all lights
should be put out at the hour prescribed in the army regulations,
those of the chateau alone excepted. He saw, it is true, the bayonets
of his soldiers gleaming here and there at their appointed posts; but
the silence was solemn, and nothing indicated that the Spaniards were
disregarding his orders in the intoxication of a fete. Endeavoring to
explain to himself this culpable and deliberate infraction of rules on
the part of the inhabitants, it struck him as the more
incomprehensible because he had left a number of officers in charge of
patrols who were to make their rounds during the night, and enforce
the regulations.
With the impetuosity of youth, he was about to spring through an
opening in the terrace wall, and descend by the rocks more rapidly
than by the usual road to a little outpost which he had placed at the
entrance of the town, on the side toward the chateau, when a slight
noise arrested him. He fancied he heard the light step of a woman on
the gravelled path behind him. He turned his head and saw no one, but
his eyes were caught by an extraordinary light upon the ocean.
Suddenly he beheld a sight so alarming that he stood for a moment
motionless with surprise, fancying that his senses were mistaken. The
white rays of the moonlight enabled him to distinguish sails at some
distance. He tried to convince himself that this vision was an optical
delusion caused by the caprices of the waves and the moon. At that
moment, a hoarse voice uttered his name. He looked toward the opening
in the wall, and saw the head of the orderly who had accompanied him
to the chateau rising cautiously through it.
"Is it you, commander?"
"Yes. What is it?" replied the young man, in a low voice, a sort of
presentiment warning him to act mysteriously.
"Those rascals are squirming like worms," said the man; "and I have
come, if you please, to tell you my little observations."
"Speak out."
"I have just followed from the chateau a man with a lantern who is
coming this way. A lantern is mightily suspicious! I don''t believe
that Christian has any call to go and light the church tapers at this
time of night. They want to murder us! said I to myself, so I followed
his heels; and I''ve discovered, commander, close by here, on a pile of
rock, a great heap of fagots--he''s after lighting a beacon of some
kind up here, I''ll be bound--"
A terrible cry echoing suddenly through the town stopped the soldier''s
speech. A brilliant light illuminated the young officer. The poor
orderly was shot in the head and fell. A fire of straw and dry wood
blazed up like a conflagration not thirty feet distant from the young
commander. The music and the laughter ceased in the ballroom. The
silence of death, broken only by moans, succeeded to the joyous sounds
of a festival. A single cannon-shot echoed along the plain of the
ocean.
A cold sweat rolled from the officer''s brow. He wore no sword. He was
confident that his soldiers were murdered, and that the English were
about to disembark. He saw himself dishonored if he lived, summoned
before a council of war to explain his want of vigilance; then he
measured with his eye the depths of the descent, and was springing
towards it when Clara''s hand seized his.
"Fly!" she said; "my brothers are following me to kill you. Your
soldiers are killed. Escape yourself. At the foot of the rock, over
there, see! you will find Juanito''s barb--Go, go!"
She pushed him; but the stupefied young man looked at her, motionless,
for a moment. Then, obeying the instinct of self-preservation which
never abandons any man, even the strongest, he sprang through the park
in the direction indicated, running among the rocks where goats alone
had hitherto made their way. He heard Clara calling to her brothers to
pursue him; he heard the steps of his murderers; he heard the balls of
several muskets whistling about his ears; but he reached the valley,
found the horse, mounted him, and disappeared with the rapidity of an
arrow.
A few hours later the young officer reached the headquarters of
General G--t--r, whom he found at dinner with his staff.
"I bring you my head!" cried the commander of the lost battalion as he
entered, pale and overcome.
He sat down and related the horrible occurrence. An awful silence
followed his tale.
"I think you were more unfortunate than criminal," replied the
terrible general, when at last he spoke. "You are not responsible for
the crime of those Spaniards; and, unless the marshal should think
otherwise, I absolve you."
These words gave but a feeble consolation to the unhappy officer.
"But when the emperor hears of it!" he cried.
"He will want to have you shot," said the general; "but we will see
about that. Now," he added in a stern tone, "not another word of this,
except to turn it into a vengeance which shall impress with salutary
terror a people who make war like savages."
An hour later a whole regiment, a detachment of cavalry, and a battery
of artillery were on ...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Go to the beginning of the document
Go to previous page
Go to next page
Go to the end of document
