The Galley Slave's Ring; or, The Family of Lebrenn

"The Commissioner so ordered me."

"The devil!" exclaimed Lebrenn smiling. "This is a mark of confidence that flatters me greatly."

The keeper closed the door and left.

"Once more, the devil!" said Lebrenn with a broader grin as his eyes alighted upon an inviting arm-chair. "This is a good opportunity for me to enjoy a more comfortable seat than the stone benches of the prison yard."

And comfortably dropping into the soft seat he proceeded:

"No question about it, a good arm-chair is one of the comforts of life."

At that moment a side door opened and Lebrenn saw a tall man in the uniform of Brigadier General – blue coat, gold epaulettes and dark brown trousers – enter the apartment.

At the sight of the staff officer, Lebrenn was seized with surprise, sat up straight, and cried:

"Monsieur Plouernel!"

"Who did not forget the evening of February 23, 1848, monsieur," answered the General, stepping forward, and cordially extending his hand to Lebrenn. The latter took the proffered hand, and, while doing so, saw and considered the meaning of the two silver stars that ornamented the Count of Plouernel's epaulettes. With a smile of good-natured irony the merchant replied:

"You have become a General in the service of the Republic, monsieur, and I a galley-slave! You must admit, this is piquant."

The Count of Plouernel contemplated the merchant with astonishment. He had expected to see him either utterly dejected, or in a state of violent indignation. He found him calm, smiling and witty.

"Well, monsieur," proceeded Lebrenn, keeping his seat while the General, standing before him, continued to contemplate the man with increasing wonderment. "Well, monsieur, it is almost eighteen months since that evening of February 23, which it has pleased you to recall to memory! Who would then have thought that we would have met again in the position in which we find ourselves to-day!"

"Such fortitude!" exclaimed the Count of Plouernel. "This is heroism!"

"Not at all, monsieur – it is simply a matter of a clean conscience, and of confidence."

"Confidence!"

"Yes. I am calm because I have faith in the cause to which I devoted my life – and because my conscience assails me with no reproaches."

"And yet – you are in this place, monsieur."

"I pity the error of my judges."

"You – the incarnation of honor, in the livery of infamy!"

"Bah! That does not affect me."

"Far from your wife, from your children!"

"They are as often here with me as I am with them. The body is chained and separated, but the spirit laughs at chains and space."

And interrupting himself, Lebrenn added:

"But, monsieur, kindly inform me by what accident I see you here. The Commissioner of the prison sent for me. Was it only to afford me the honor of receiving your visit?"

"You would misjudge me, monsieur," answered the General, "were you to believe that, after owing my life to you, I could come here with no other motive than that of idle and offensive curiosity."

"I shall not do you such an injustice, monsieur. You are, I presume, on a tour of inspection?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"I presume you learned I was here in prison, and you came, perhaps, to offer me your good offices?"

"Better yet, monsieur."

"Better yet? Pray, what do you mean? You seem to feel embarrassed."

"Indeed – I am; very much so – " replied the General, visibly put out of countenance by the calmness and easy manners of the galley-slave. "Revolutions often bring about bizarre situations."

"Bizarre situations?"

"Yes," replied the General; "the situation in which we two find ourselves at this moment, for instance."

"Oh, we already have exhausted the obvious bizarreness of fate, monsieur!" remarked the merchant smiling. "That, under the Republic, I, an old republican, should be found on the galley-bench, while you, a republican of recent date, should have been promoted to the rank of General – that is, no doubt, bizarre, we are agreed upon that. What else?"

"My embarrassment proceeds from another reason, monsieur."

"Which?"

"It happens – that – " answered the General, hesitatingly.

"It happens that?"

"I applied – "

"You applied – for what, monsieur?"

"And obtained – "

"A pardon for me!" cried Lebrenn. "Why, that's charming!"

And the situation brought about by the whirligig of politics was so droll that the merchant could not refrain from laughing heartily.

"Yes, monsieur," the General proceeded, "I have asked and obtained your pardon – you are free. Mine has been the honor of carrying the news to you personally."

"One word of explanation, monsieur," said the merchant in a tone of lofty seriousness. "I do not accept pardon; but, however tardy, I do accept atoning justice."

"What do you mean?"

"If, at the time of the fatal June insurrection, I had shared the views of those of my brothers who are here in prison with me, I would decline to accept a pardon. After having done like them, I would remain here as they, and with them!"

"Nevertheless, monsieur, your conviction – "

"Was iniquitous. I shall prove it to you in a few words. At the time of the June insurrection, last year, I was a captain in my legion. I responded without arms to the call issued by the National Guard. There I declared loudly, very loudly, that it was only without arms that I would march at the head of my company, my purpose being not to engage in a bloody conflict, but to endeavor to convince my brothers, that, notwithstanding they were exasperated by misery, by a deplorable misunderstanding, and above all by atrocious deceptions, they should never forget that the people's sovereignty was inviolable, and that, so long as the power which represented the same had not been legally impeached and convicted of treason, to revolt against that power, to attack it with arms instead of overthrowing it by means of the universal suffrage, was a suicidal act, and was an impeachment of popular sovereignty itself.[10 - More than anyone else, we deplored the sad insurrection of June, 1848, and the blood that flowed both before and behind the barricades; but we are equally revolted by the abominable calumnies with which all the insurrectionists, without distinction, have been pursued. We call to witness brave General Piré, who, in a letter to the Representatives of the people, expresses himself as follows:"Citizen Representatives, having entered first by force of bayonet behind the barricade on National St. Martin Street on the 23rd of June, I found myself for several minutes alone among insurrectionists animated by unspeakable exasperation. We fought on both sides to the last notch. They could have killed me; they did not do so. I was in the ranks of the National Guard, and an old General. They respected a veteran of Austerlitz and Waterloo. The memory of their generosity will never leave me. I fought them to the point of death. I found them brave, they spared my life. They were defeated – unhappy ones with whom I should have shared my bread, come what might."Piré."Lieutenant General."We would also cite this passage from "L'Atelier":"Three months have passed since the days of June, and now one can judge coolly of the cause of those terrible events. Doubtless there can be found, as always, men who exploit, for their ambition, public evils, men who would sacrifice the whole world to their hateful spirit of egotism. But the true mover, that which put guns in the hands of 30,000 combatants, was the desolating misery which deprives men of their reason. Fathers of families can alone judge of its sway."Here is the testimony of one whom the Council of War has just condemned to ten years at hard labor:"'I had been hunting two days for work, and was unable to find any… I returned to my sick wife. She was lying on her bed without waist or vest, with a rag of cover thrown over her. For an instant I thought of suicide, but I rejected the idea when I saw at her side the little pink face of my Infant, who slept deep in such misery… My wife died. I remained alone with my two children. It was two days before the insurrection. My son, showing me the basket that he carried lunch in regularly to school, said to me, "Papa, haven't you given me anything?" Well, sir, that is why I listened to my unhappy comrades… I had suffered like them… When they came for me, I yielded, but I said: "I beg of you, by the memory of my poor holy mother: if we are defeated, I shall be thrown into a dungeon, I shall not complain, I shall not reproach you; but if we are the victors, – no vengeance, pardon to all, for this war among Frenchmen is horrible."' – Testimony of N. A., before the Council of War."] About one-half of my company shared my views and followed my example. While other citizens were charging us with treason, bare-headed, unarmed, our hands fraternally linked, we advanced towards the first barricade in our path. The guns were raised at our approach – we were heard. Already our brothers understood that, however legitimate their grievances, an insurrection would mean the immediate triumph of the enemies of the Republic. At that juncture a hail of bullets rained down upon the barricade behind which we were parleying. Ignorant, no doubt, of this circumstance, a battalion of the line had attacked the position. Taken by surprise, the insurgents defended themselves heroically. The larger number were slain, a few were made prisoners. Confounded among the latter, several others of my own company and myself were seized and treated as insurgents. If I, thrown along with several friends of mine, into the underground dungeons of the Tuileries and kept there three days and nights, did not go crazy; if I preserved my reason, it was that, in the spirit, I was with my wife and children. Dragged before the military tribunal I there told the truth; they did not believe me. I was sent to this place. So you see, monsieur, it is not pardon that is granted to me, but tardy justice. Nevertheless, that does not prevent me from being grateful to you for the efforts you have put forth in my behalf. Well, then, I am free?"