I was present at my friends trial. The facts had become known beforehand. He stood there with his gray hair, and his mutilated limbs, and the deep scar on his visage, and the Cross of the Legion of Honor on his breast; and when he had told his tale, he ended with these words: I have saved the son whom I reared for France from a doom that would have spared the life to brand it with disgrace. Is this a crime? I give you my life in exchange for my sons disgrace. Does my country need a victim? I have lived for my countrys glory, and I can die contented to satisfy its laws, sure that, if you blame me, you will not despise; sure that the hands that give me to the headsman will scatter flowers over my grave. Thus I confess all. I, a soldier, look round amongst a nation of soldiers; and in the name of the star which glitters on my breast I dare the fathers of France to condemn me!
They acquitted the soldier,at least they gave a verdict answering to what in our courts is called justifiable homicide. A shout rose in the court which no ceremonial voice could still; the crowd would have borne him in triumph to his house, but his look repelled such vanities. To his house he returned indeed; and the day afterwards they found him dead, beside the cradle in which his first prayer had been breathed over his sinless child. Now, father and son, I ask you, do you condemn that man?
CHAPTER VIII
My father took three strides up and down the room, and then, halting on his hearth, and facing his brother, he thus spoke: I condemn his deed, Roland! At best he was but a haughty egotist. I understand why Brutus should slay his sons. By that sacrifice he saved his country! What did this poor dupe of an exaggeration save? Nothing but his own name. He could not lift the crime from his sons soul, nor the dishonor from his sons memory. He could but gratify his own vain pride; and insensibly to himself, his act was whispered to him by the fiend that ever whispers to the heart of man, Dread mens opinions more than Gods law! Oh, my dear brother! what minds like yours should guard against the most is not the meanness of evil,it is the evil that takes false nobility, by garbing itself in the royal magnificence of good. My uncle walked to the window, opened it, looked out a moment, as if to draw in fresh air, closed it gently, and came back again to his seat; but during the short time the window had been left open, a moth flew in.
Tales like these, renewed my father, pityingly,whether told by some great tragedian, or in thy simple style, my brother,tales like these have their uses: they penetrate the heart to make it wiser; but all wisdom is meek, my Roland. They invite us to put the question to ourselves that thou hast asked, Can we condemn this man? and reason answers as I have answered, We pity the man, we condemn the deed. Wetake care, my love! that moth will be in the candle. Wewhisk! whisk! and my father stopped to drive away the moth. My uncle turned, and taking his handkerchief from the lower part of his face, of which he had wished to conceal the workings, he flapped away the moth from the flame. My mother moved the candles from the moth.
I tried to catch the moth in my fathers straw-hat. The deuce was in the moth! it baffled us all, now circling against the ceiling, now sweeping down at the fatal lights. As if by a simultaneous impulse, my father approached one candle, my uncle approached the other; and just as the moth was wheeling round and round, irresolute which to choose for its funeral pyre, both candles were put out. The fire had burned down low in the grate, and in the sudden dimness my fathers soft, sweet voice came forth, as if from an invisible being: We leave ourselves in the dark to save a moth from the flame, brother! Shall we do less for our fellow-men? Extinguish, oh! humanely extinguish, the light of our reason when the darkness more favors our mercy. Before the lights were relit, my uncle had left the room; his brother followed him. My mother and I drew near to each other and talked in whispers.
PART IV
CHAPTER I
I was always an early riser. Happy the man who is! Every morning, day comes to him with a virgins love, full of bloom and purity and freshness. The youth of Nature is contagious, like the gladness of a happy child. I doubt if any man can be called old so long as he is an early riser and an early walker. And oh, youth!take my word of ityouth in dressing-gown and slippers, dawdling over breakfast at noon, is a very decrepit, ghastly image of that youth which sees the sun blush over the mountains, and the dews sparkle upon blossoming hedgerows.
Passing by my fathers study, I was surprised to see the windows unclosed; surprised more, on looking in, to see him bending over his books,for I had never before known him study till after the morning meal. Students are not usually early risers, for students, alas! whatever their age, are rarely young. Yes, the Great Book must be getting on in serious earnest. It was no longer dalliance with learning; this was work.
I passed through the gates into the road. A few of the cottages were giving signs of returning life, but it was not yet the hour for labor, and no Good morning, sir, greeted me on the road. Suddenly at a turn, which an over-hanging beech-tree had before concealed, I came full upon my Uncle Roland.
What! you, sir? So early? Hark, the clock is striking five!
Not later! I have walked well for a lame man. It must be more than four miles toand back.
You have been to? Not on business? No soul would be up.
Yes, at inns there is always some one up. Hostlers never sleep! I have been to order my humble chaise and pair. I leave you today, nephew.
Ah, uncle, we have offended you! It was my folly, that cursed print
Pooh! said my uncle, quickly. Offended me, boy? I defy you! and he pressed my hand roughly.
Yet this sudden determination! It was but yesterday, at the Roman Camp, that you planned an excursion with my father, to C Castle.
Never depend upon a whimsical man. I must be in London tonight.
And return to-morrow?
I know not when, said my uncle, gloomily; and he was silent for some moments. At length, leaning less lightly on my arm, he continued: Young man, you have pleased me. I love that open, saucy brow of yours, on which Nature has written Trust me. I love those clear eyes, that look one manfully in the face. I must know more of youmuch of you. You must come and see me some day or other in your ancestors ruined keep.
Come! that I will. And you shall show me the old tower
And the traces of the outworks! cried my uncle, flourishing his stick.
And the pedigree
Ay, and your great-great-grandfathers armor, which he wore at Marston Moor
Yes, and the brass plate in the church, uncle.
The deuce is in the boy! Come here, come here: Ive three minds to break your head, sir!
It is a pity somebody had not broken the rascally printers, before he had the impudence to disgrace us by having a family, uncle.
Captain Roland tried hard to frown, but he could not. Pshaw! said he, stopping, and taking snuff. The world of the dead is wide; why should the ghosts jostle us?