The Companions of Jehu | Page 3

my
'Question d'Argent.'"
"Well, who are your two characters, then?"
"An English gentleman and a French captain."
"Introduce the Englishman first."
"Very well." And Alexandre drew Lord Tanlay's portrait for me.

"Your English gentleman pleases me," said I; "now let us see your
French captain."
"My French captain is a mysterious character, who courts death with all
his might, without being able to accomplish his desire; so that each
time he rushes into mortal danger he performs some brilliant feat which
secures him promotion."
"But why does he wish to get himself killed?"
"Because he is disgusted with life."
"Why is he disgusted with life?"
"Ah! That will be the secret of the book."
"It must be told in the end."
"On the contrary, I, in your place, would not tell it."
"The readers will demand it."
"You will reply that they have only to search for it; you must leave
them something to do, these readers of yours."
"Dear friend, I shall be overwhelmed with letters."
"You need not answer them."
"Yes, but for my personal gratification I, at least, must know why my
hero longs to die."
"Oh, I do not refuse to tell you."
"Let me hear, then."
"Well, suppose, instead of being professor of dialectics, Abelard had
been a soldier."
"Well?"
"Well, let us suppose that a bullet--"
"Excellent!"
"You understand? Instead of withdrawing to Paraclet, he would have
courted death at every possible opportunity."
"Hum! That will be difficult."
"Difficult! In what way?"
"To make the public swallow that."
"But since you are not going to tell the public."
"That is true. By my faith, I believe you are right. Wait."
"I am waiting."
"Have you Nodier's 'Souvenirs de la Révolution'? I believe he wrote
one or two pages about Guyon, Leprêtre, Amiet and Hyvert."
"They will say, then, that you have plagiarized from Nodier."

"Oh! He loved me well enough during his life not to refuse me
whatever I shall take from him after his death. Go fetch me the
'Souvenirs de la Révolution.'"
Alexandre brought me the book. I opened it, turned over two or three
pages, and at last discovered what I was looking for. A little of Nodier,
dear readers, you will lose nothing by it. It is he who is speaking:
The highwaymen who attacked the diligences, as mentioned in the
article on Amiet, which I quoted just now, were called Leprêtre, Hyvert,
Guyon and Amiet.
Leprêtre was forty-eight years old. He was formerly a captain of
dragoons, a knight of St. Louis, of a noble countenance, prepossessing
carriage and much elegance of manner. Guyon and Amiet have never
been known by their real names. They owe that to the accommodating
spirit prevailing among the vendors of passports of those days. Let the
reader picture to himself two dare-devils between twenty and thirty
years of age, allied by some common responsibility, the sequence,
perhaps of some misdeed, or, by a more delicate and generous interest,
the fear of compromising their family name. Then you will know of
Guyon and Amiet all that I can recall. The latter had a sinister
countenance, to which, perhaps, he owes the bad reputation with which
all his biographers have credited him. Hyvert was the son of a rich
merchant of Lyons, who had offered the sub-officer charged with his
deportation sixty thousand francs to permit his escape. He was at once
the Achilles and the Paris of the band. He was of medium height but
well formed, lithe, and of graceful and pleasing address. His eyes were
never without animation nor his lips without a smile. His was one of
those countenances which are never forgotten, and which present an
inexpressible blending of sweetness and strength, tenderness and
energy. When he yielded to the eloquent petulance of his inspirations
he soared to enthusiasm. His conversation revealed the rudiments of an
excellent early education and much natural intelligence. That which
was so terrifying in him was his tone of heedless gayety, which
contrasted so horribly with his position. For the rest, he was
unanimously conceded to be kind, generous, humane, lenient toward
the weak, while with the strong he loved to display a vigor truly athletic
which his somewhat effeminate features were far from indicating. He
boasted that he had never been without money, and had no enemies.

That was his sole reply to the charges of theft and assassination. He
was twenty-two years old.
To these four men was intrusted the attack upon a diligence conveying
forty thousand francs of government money. This deed was transacted
in broad daylight, with an exchange of mutual courtesy almost; and the
travellers, who were not disturbed by the attack, gave little heed to it.
But a child of only ten years of age, with reckless bravado, seized the
pistol of