The Story of Manon Lescaut and of the Chevalier des Grieux/Chapter 19

by L'Abbé Prévost

Chapter XIX.

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Leaving the Luxembourg, I rushed like a madman through the streets to M. de T———'s house. As I went along I raised my eyes to heaven and lifted my hands in supplication to the Almighty Powers above, crying aloud in my anguish: "O God! surely thou wilt not prove as pitiless as man! Thine aid is now my only hope!"

M. de T——— had not yet returned home, but he arrived before I had waited many minutes. He told me with a rueful face that his efforts at mediation had met with no better success than my own. Young G——— M———, although less incensed than his father against Manon and myself, was yet unwilling to attempt any intercession with him on our behalf. His excuse was that he was himself afraid of the vindictive old man who had already flown into a violent passion with him while reprimanding him on the subject of his intended intrigue with Manon.

Thus, my only remaining course was to resort to violent measures, such as M. de T——— had indicated; and on the success of these I built my last hopes—hopes, as I told him, that were very slender at best, but in one of which I found certainty and consolation; and that was, that should I fail, I should at least perish in the attempt. I begged him to aid me to the extent of offering up his prayers for my success, and then left him, with all my thoughts centred on the one object of finding associates into whom I might be able to infuse something, if only a single spark, of my own courage and determination.

The first person who occurred to my mind was the Guardsman whom I had employed to abduct G——— M———. I further resolved to go and claim his hospitality for the night, as my mind had been too much preoccupied all the afternoon to allow of my securing a lodging for myself.

I found him alone. He expressed his pleasure at seeing me out of the Châtelet and at liberty once more, and warmly offered me his services. I explained to him how he could indeed be of assistance to me. He had good sense enough to appreciate all the difficulties of the proposed attempt; but he was also generous enough to undertake to surmount them.

We spent part of the night in discussing my project. He mentioned the three soldiers of the Guards whom he had hired to aid him on the last occasion, as bravos of proved mettle. M. de T——— had furnished me with exact information as to the number of Archers who were detailed to escort Manon on the journey. There were only six of them. Five bold and resolute men were enough to strike terror into the hearts of these miserable hirelings, who are utterly incapable of defending themselves gallantly when their cowardice can find a way of shirking the dangers of combat.

As I was plentifully supplied with money, my friend the Guardsman advised me to grudge nothing that might help to insure the success of our attack.

"We must have horses," said he, "and pistols, as well as a carbine for each of us. I will make it my business to attend to all these preparations to-morrow. Three suits of civilians' clothes will be necessary, too, for our soldiers, who would not dare, in an affair of this sort, to appear in the uniform of their regiment."

I entrusted him with the hundred pistoles which I had obtained from M. de T———, and they were spent the next day, to the last farthing. The three soldiers were brought up for my inspection. I fired their zeal by liberal promises of reward, and, in order to gain their complete confidence, I began by making each of them a present of ten pistoles.

The day having arrived for the execution of my project, I despatched one of the soldiers to the Hôpital at an early hour in the morning, with instructions to ascertain to a moment the time of the Archers' departure with their prisoners. Although it was only my excessive anxiety and prudence which prompted me to take this precaution, it turned out to have been absolutely necessary; for, relying upon false information which had been given me as to their route, I had intended to lie in wait for the ill-fated band on the Orleans road, under the impression that they were to embark at La Rochelle. Had I done so, all my trouble would have been thrown away, for, as I learnt from the soldier's report, they were taking the road to Normandy, and it was from Havre-de-Grace that they were to sail for America.

We hastened at once to the Porte St. Honoré, taking care to approach it by different streets, and rejoining one another at the end of the Faubourg. Our horses were fresh, and we were not long in coming up with the six Archers and the two wretched wagons which you saw at Passy two years ago.

This spectacle so unmanned me that my strength and consciousness almost deserted me.

"O Fortune!" I cried, "cruel Fortune, grant me now at least either victory or death!"

We held a hasty consultation as to what should be our mode of attack. The Archers were barely four hundred yards ahead of us, and in order to cut them off we had only to cross a small field that was skirted by the high-road which they were following.

The Guardsman was in favor of adopting this course, and so surprising them by a sudden onslaught.

Such was my own view, and, setting spurs to my horse, I led the way. But Fortune, alas! had pitilessly rejected my prayers. Seeing five horsemen galloping towards them, the Archers at once concluded that it was with the object of attacking them. Fixing their bayonets and looking to the locks of their muskets, they prepared to defend themselves without a sign of flinching.

At this sight, which served but to fire the Guardsman and myself with redoubled ardor, the courage of our three dastardly companions suddenly forsook them. They halted as if by mutual consent, whispered a few words among themselves which I could not overhear, and then turned their horses' heads and made back, at full gallop, along the road to Paris.

"Curse the rascals!" exclaimed the Guardsman, who seemed to be as much aghast as myself at this infamous desertion: "What is to be done? We are now but two against six!"

I was speechless with rage and amazement. Reining in my horse, I hesitated as to whether my first acts of vengeance should not be the pursuit and chastisement of the treacherous cowards who were thus abandoning me. I gazed after them as they fled, and then glanced in the other direction at the Archers. Had I possessed the power of doubling my own being, I should have fallen simultaneously upon these objects of my fury, and dealt out one common death to them all.

My indecision betrayed itself to the Guardsman by the restless wandering of my eyes, and he begged me to listen to his advice.

"Now that there are only two of us," said he, "it would be madness for us to attack six men, as well armed as ourselves," and who seem prepared to offer a stubborn resistance. There is nothing for it but to return to Paris, and try to be more successful in the choice of our followers. The Archers will not be able to make very rapid progress on their journey, with two heavy carts to retard them; and we shall have no difficulty in overtaking them again to-morrow."

I pondered over this suggestion for a few moments; but I could see nothing but despair confronting me at every turn, and I came to a resolution which no one, in truth, but a desperate man could have formed. This was, to thank my companion for his friendly services, and then, so far from attacking the Archers, to go, instead, and humbly beg them to let me join their party; my object being to accompany Manon as far as Havre-de-Grace with them, and then to cross the ocean with her.

"I meet with persecution or betrayal on every hand," I said to the Guardsman; "there is not a soul whom I can trust. I despair of any further aid from Fortune or from man. I have reached the climax of my sorrows, and all that remains for me is to resign myself to them and to close my eyes, as I now do, to every gleam of hope. May Heaven reward you for your kindness to me! Farewell! I am going to help my evil destiny to consummate my ruin, by hurrying to meet it of my own free-will!"

He endeavored in vain to persuade me to return to Paris. I entreated him to allow me to carry out my resolve, and to leave me at once, lest the Archers might still imagine that we intended to attack them.

I rode slowly towards them, alone, and with such a dejection mirrored in my face, that they had no reason for being alarmed at my approach. In spite of this, they continued to stand on the defensive. "Be under no apprehension, my good sirs," I said, as I drew near them; "I do not come as an enemy, but as a suppliant." Then, requesting them to resume their journey without distrust, I told them, as we went along, the favors which I hoped they would grant me. They consulted together as to how they should receive my propositions. Finally the Archer in command, acting as spokesman for the others, told me in reply that they had received orders of the strictest kind to keep a close watch over their prisoners; but that, to oblige such a gallant young gentleman as I seemed to be, he and his companions would consent to be a little lax in their duty; on the understanding, of course, that I was to pay something for the privilege. I had about fifteen pistoles left, and told them frankly how much my purse contained.

"Well," said the Archer, "we'll not be extortionate in our demands upon it. It shall cost you only a crown an hour to enjoy the company of whichever of our girls here is most to your liking. 'Tis no more than the regular price in Paris."

I had not alluded to Manon in particular, because I did not wish them to know of my passion for her. They at first supposed that it was merely a young man's passing whim which led me to seek a little diversion with these unfortunates; but no sooner did they begin to suspect that I was in love, than they increased their exactions to such an extent that my purse was empty by the time we left Mantes, where we had slept the night before we reached Passy.

Do you ask me to tell you on what mournful themes Manon and I conversed during that journey, or to describe my feelings on beholding her, when I had obtained permission from her guards to approach the wagon in which she lay? Ah, my friend! words, at best, do but feebly express the emotions of the heart! But picture to yourself my unhappy mistress, with a chain around her waist, reclining upon a few scanty handfuls of straw and wearily resting her head against the side of the cart, her face pale, and moistened by the tears which forced their way from beneath her lashes, and streamed down her cheeks, although she kept her eyes constantly closed. She had not even had the curiosity to open them on hearing the commotion among her guards when they expected our attack. Her linen garments were soiled and bedraggled, her delicate hands exposed to the rude air; in short, she, the embodiment of every charm—she, with that face which was lovely enough to lead the whole world back to idolatry—now presented a spectacle of such wretchedness and desolation as no language can describe. For some time I rode beside the cart, gazing at her sadly, and so overcome with anguish at the sight that more than once I all but fell headlong from my horse.

My sighs and repeated ejaculations of grief at length attracted her attention. Glancing up, she recognized me; and I noticed that, yielding to her first impulse, she attempted to leap from the cart towards me, but, the chain dragging her back, she sank into her former attitude.

I begged the Archers, in the name of mercy, to stop for a moment; but only when I had appealed to their cupidity did they consent to do so. I dismounted from my horse and seated myself at Manon's side. She was so enfeebled and exhausted that for a long time she could not open her lips to speak to me, or even make a sign with her hands. Meanwhile I bathed those dear hands with my tears, unable, myself, to utter a single word; and thus we sat together, in as pitiable a condition as ever fell to the lot of two unhappy mortals. Nor were our words less sad when at last we regained the power of speech.

Manon said but little. Her misery and humiliation seemed to have wrought a change in the very organs of her voice, and its tone was tremulous and feeble as she expressed her gratitude to me for not having forgotten her, and for granting her, as she added with a sigh, the consolation of seeing me once again and bidding me a last farewell. But on my protesting to her that no power on earth could tear me from her side, and that I was resolved to follow her to the very end of the world, that I might watch over her, tend her, love her, and link my miserable destiny forever with her own, the poor girl gave way to such transports of grief and affection that I trembled lest the violence of her emotions might endanger her life itself.

All the agitation of her heart seemed to concentrate itself in her eyes, which she kept intently fixed upon my face. Every now and again she would commence a sentence, and, lacking strength to complete it, the words would die away upon her lips. The few to which she succeeded in giving utterance were expressions of admiring wonder at my devotion, and tender protests against the lengths to which I was carrying it; mingled with murmurs of surprise that she should be fortunate enough to have inspired me with so matchless a love, and earnest entreaties that I would renounce my intention of accompanying her, and seek elsewhere the happiness I deserved and which, she said, I could never hope to enjoy with her.

In spite of the cruelty of Fate, I found my long-sought happiness in her tender gaze, and in the certainty I now felt that I possessed her love. I had, indeed, forfeited all that other men hold dear; but I was master of Manon's heart, the one possession that I prized. "What cared I whether my remaining days were to be passed in Europe or America? Little did the place of my abode matter to me, as long as it insured me the happiness of living with my beloved mistress. Is not the whole wide world home and country for two faithful lovers? Do they not find in one another parents, kindred, friends—all riches and all joys?

If there were anything that caused me anxiety, it was the dread of seeing Manon exposed to privations and want. I imagined myself already with her in some wild and uncultivated region, inhabited only by savages. "There can be none, even there," thought I, "as cruel as my father and G——— M———; of that I am convinced. They will at least allow us to live in peace. If the accounts we read of them are to be believed, they obey the laws of Nature. The passion of avarice, to which G——— M——— is a slave, and the fantastic notions of honor which have made my own father my enemy, are alike unknown to them. They will not molest two lovers whose lives, as they will see, are as simple as their own."

I had thus no fears upon that point; but I indulged in no romantic fancies with respect to the common necessaries of life. I had only too often been brought face to face with the fact that there are some privations which are unendurable, especially by a delicate girl who has been accustomed to a life of ease and abundance. I was in despair to think that I had been forced to part with my money so uselessly, and that even what little I had left would soon be extorted from me by the rascally greed of the Archers; for I thought that, with a small sum in my possession, I might have hoped, not only to ward off destitution for some time in America, where money was scarce, but even to establish myself in some business there which would secure me a permanent footing.

As a result of these reflections, it occurred to me to write to Tiberge, whom I had ever found ready to lend me his friendly assistance. I wrote from the first town through which we passed. I did not use any pretext to disguise my real motive in making the request; but simply pleaded the pressing need of money which I foresaw that I should be in on my arrival at Havre-de-Grace, whither, I told him frankly, I was accompanying Manon. I asked him for a hundred pistoles.

"Send the money to me," I said, "through the Post-master at Havre. You will readily understand that this is the last time I shall trespass upon your kindness, and that, now that my ill-fated mistress is being torn from me forever, I cannot bear to let her go without some small comforts which, in mitigating the hardships of her lot, will also help to console the bitterness of my grief."

The Archers, as soon as they became aware of the violence of my passion, grew so rapacious in their extortions that, by continually doubling the price of their slightest favors, they soon left me absolutely penniless. The dictates of love, moreover, forbade my husbanding my money. From morning till night I was at Manon's side, oblivious of everything else, and my time was no longer measured by the hour, but by whole days.

When, at last, my purse was quite empty, I found myself exposed to all the whims and brutality of these six ruffians, who treated me with insufferable insolence, such as you yourself witnessed at Passy. My meeting with you was a happy respite that Fortune granted me for a short time. Your compassion at the sight of my sufferings was the only claim that I had upon your generous heart. The assistance which you so liberally extended me enabled me to reach Havre, and the Archers kept their promise with better faith than I had expected of them.

On our arrival at Havre, I went at once to the Post-office. There had not as yet been time for Tiberge to answer my letter. I made careful inquiries as to how soon I might expect his reply, and found that it could not possibly arrive for another two days. By one of those strange fatalities which my luckless destiny ever had in store for me, it happened that our vessel was to sail on the morning of the very day when the post that I was so anxiously awaiting would come in. Words fail to describe my despair at this intelligence.

"Must it ever be thus?" I cried; "must I be always singled out for extremes, even in my misfortunes?"

"Alas!" was Manon's response, "such unhappy lives as ours are surely not worth the pains we take to preserve them! Let us die here, at Havre, dear Chevalier! Let us end our miseries at once and forever in the grave! Why carry the heavy burden of our woes to an unknown land, where the most horrible sufferings doubtless await us, since it has been chosen as a place of punishment for me. Yes, let us die!" she again besought me; "or do you, at least, put me to death, and then seek a happier lot in the arms of some more fortunate mistress!"

"Nay, nay, sweet soul!" I replied; "I ask no better fate than to be allowed to share your misfortunes."

Her words made me tremble, for I feared that her spirit had been crushed under the weight of her afflictions. I forced myself to assume a more hopeful manner, in order to dispel from her mind these melancholy thoughts of death and despair. I resolved to keep to the same course in future; and subsequent events served to teach me that nothing is more calculated to inspire a woman with courage than dauntless fortitude in the man she loves.

When I had lost all hope of receiving assistance from Tiberge, I sold my horse. The proceeds of that transaction, added to what remained of your generous gift, put me in possession of the small sum of seventeen pistoles. Seven of these I laid out in the purchase of some necessary comforts for Manon; the other ten I carefully put by, to serve as the foundation of our hopes and fortune in America.

I had no difficulty in obtaining permission to join the ship. At that time the authorities were glad to find young men who were willing to go out and settle in the Colony, and my passage and provisions were granted me free of cost.

The mail for Paris was to leave the following day, and I took advantage of the fact to post a letter to Tiberge. It was a touching epistle, and must have moved him deeply; for it inspired him with a resolve that could only have originated in a heart that was filled with an infinite wealth of generous sympathy for an unhappy friend.