The Companions of Jehu | Page 5

a
squad of armed men of whom my uncle was then commander. At six
o'clock in the morning sixty horsemen were drawn up before the iron
gratings of the prison yard.
Although the jailers had observed all possible precautions in entering
the dungeon where these four unfortunate men were confined, and
whom they had left the preceding day tightly pinioned and heavily
loaded with chains, they were unable to offer them a prolonged
resistance. The prisoners were free and armed to the teeth. They came
forth without difficulty, leaving their guardians under bolts and bars,
and, supplied with the keys, they quickly traversed the space that
separated them from the prison yard. Their appearance must have been
terrifying to the populace awaiting them before the iron gates.
To assure perfect freedom of action, or perhaps to affect an appearance
of security more menacing even than the renown for strength and
intrepidity with which their names were associated, or possibly even to
conceal the flow of blood which reveals itself so readily beneath white
linen, and betrays the last agonies of a mortally wounded man, their
breasts were bared. Their braces crossed upon the chest--their wide red
belts bristling with arms--their cry of attack and rage, all that must have
given a decidedly fantastic touch to the scene. Arrived in the square,
they perceived the gendarmerie drawn up in motionless ranks, through
which it would have been impossible to force a passage. They halted an
instant and seemed to consult together. Leprêtre, who was, as I have
said, their senior and their chief, saluted the guard with his hand, saying
with that noble grace of manner peculiar to him:
"Very well, gentlemen of the gendarmerie!"
Then after a brief, energetic farewell to his comrades, he stepped in
front of them and blew out his brains. Guyon, Amiet and Hyvert

assumed a defensive position, their double-barrelled pistols levelled
upon their armed opponents. They did not fire; but the latter,
considering this demonstration as a sign of open hostility, fired upon
them. Guyon fell dead upon Leprêtre's body, which had not moved.
Amiet's hip was broken near the groin. The "Biographie des
Contemporains" says that he was executed. I have often heard it said
that he died at the foot of the scaffold. Hyvert was left alone, his
determined brow, his terrible eye, the pistol in each practiced and
vigorous hand threatening death to the spectators. Perhaps it was
involuntary admiration, in his desperate plight, for this handsome
young man with his waving locks, who was known never to have shed
blood, and from whom the law now demanded the expiation of blood;
or perhaps it was the sight of those three corpses over which he sprang
like a wolf overtaken by his hunters, and the frightful novelty of the
spectacle, which for an instant restrained the fury of the troop. He
perceived this and temporized with them for a compromise.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I go to my death! I die with all my heart! But let
no one approach me or I shall shoot him--except this gentleman," he
continued, pointing to the executioner. "This is an affair that concerns
us alone and merely needs a certain understanding between us."
This concession was readily accorded, for there was no one present
who was not suffering from the prolongation of this horrible tragedy,
and anxious to see it finished. Perceiving their assent, he placed one of
his pistols between his teeth, and drawing a dagger from his belt,
plunged it in his breast up to the hilt. He still remained standing and
seemed greatly surprised. There was a movement toward him.
"Very well, gentlemen!" cried he, covering the men who sought to
surround him with his pistols, which he had seized again, while the
blood spurted freely from the wound in which he had left his poniard.
"You know our agreement; either I die alone or three of us will die
together. Forward, march!" He walked straight to the guillotine, turning
the knife in his breast as he did so.
"Faith," said he, "my soul must be centred in my belly! I cannot die.
See if you can fetch it out."
This last was addressed to his executioner. An instant later his head fell.
Be it accident or some peculiar phenomenon of the vitality, it
rebounded and rolled beyond the circle of the scaffolding, and they will

still tell you at Bourg, that Hyvert's head spoke.
Before I had finished reading I had decided to abandon René d'Argonne
for the Companions of Jehu. On the morrow I came down with my
travelling bag under my arm.
"You are leaving?" said Alexandre to me.
"Yes."
"Where are you going?"
"To Bourg, in Bresse."
"What are you going to do there?"
"Study the neighborhood and consult with the