University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.
THE PASSAGE OF THE BARRIERS.

Renault now informed them of Osma's intention
and command given (though afterward countermanded)
to fire the city. The intelligence was fuel to their
patriotic resentments. After a few minutes passed in
animated discussion of their present plans and future
views, it was decided that the president, with the councillors,
and a guard of forty young men, should remain
in the city in their homes, to observe and report the
progress of events, keeping only so far in concealment
as the course of the new governor should render it
expedient, disguising their object, and outwardly appearing
as quiet citizens who had cheerfully determined
to submit to a government they found it in vain
longer to resist. This determination being taken as
the clock tolled three, the young leaders embraced the

president and his friends, and the order was given to
mount.

The vast hall was instantly deserted, and above three
hundred young men leaped across the backs of as many
saddled steeds in the long corridor; for then, as now,
in Louisiana, every creole was the owner of a favourite
riding horse, was an admirable horseman, and was
ever in the saddle. The vast, gloomy corridor now
presented a stirring and martial scene. The doors
opening into the court were swung back, and, with
Renault, the president, and Charleval at its head, the
spirited cavalcade wound around the fountain, their line
moving half in the light and half in the shade cast from
the spreading palm-tree.

Beneath the outer arch they halted, and the president
and his party of young citizens took leave of the
youthful leaders, and, turning aside to the left, rode
along a by-street to the hospitable, dwelling of the
chief councillor, there to remain until day should permit
them to go to their several homes undiscovered.

Renault then gave the command to ride forward.
At a slow trot the whole troop moved along the shaded
lane by which he had come towards the barrier,
where he had been challenged. The course they
should pursue to get out of the city had been decided
on between him and Charleval, provided Gobin, whom
he had commanded to meet him, should not make his
appearance, which it appeared he was not likely to do.
It was their determination, therefore, to ride against
the barrier, carry it at the sword's point, and gallop
through to the interior; a course Renault determined
upon only as an alternative to one less likely to arouse
the city, which, for the sake of those in it, he desired
should rest in quiet so long as the Spaniards would suffer
its repose. This less violent plan was to send Gobin
to amuse the guard, and trust to his cunning and
address, when they should ride up, to throw open the
gates for them. While he was regretting the necessity
of a violent course, that might needlessly alarm the
citizens, he saw directly before him Gobin himself,

seated on a stone in the path, grievously bewailing,
and perseveringly lifting up his voice louder and louder
at every step of their approach towards him. To
return a page or two to this personage!

When Gobin came in sight of the barrier, a few
moments after parting with the trumpeter, he stopped
suddenly, as if he just then remembered that the gates
of the town were in possession of the Spaniards.

“Here be the Philistines, and Gobin 'll get a baggenet
in his ribs,” he said, with ludicrous fear.

At the same instant he beheld before him Renault,
galloping across the avenue leading from the gate, and
heard the quick challenge and reply as he disappeared
in the lane.

His reply did not distinctly reach his ear, and he
was perplexed to know how he should pass the barrier
without bodily danger. “A baggenet was ne'er a
bodkin i' the flesh. I ha' been stuck i' the thumb wi'
a bodkin, and ne'er minded it,” he soliloquized: “but
a baggenet and a bullet make a penetration! I would
I knew the password! Cousin Renault should ha'
lent it me till I get by these enemies. I must needs
now trust to my folly, as I ha' done all my life. 'Tis
a quality hath stood me in stead, when wit would ha'
ben hanged. I care not how many wounds they put
in my soul, so they harm not my body. I am brave
i' the soul, but my flesh hath cowardice in it.”

He instantly turned from the street in the direction
of the wall, which, by the aid of a bastion, he climbed
with activity, and gained the top of a rampart at a
spot about one hundred yards from the barrier. He
ran, or, rather, skipped swiftly but noiselessly along the
summit; and, without being perceived by the steadily-pacing
sentry, in a moment stood above him over the
arch of the gate. There was a bastion within reach
of his foot, and he prepared to descend by it. The
sentinel turned at this instant in his walk, and, seeing
Gobin's shadow added to the bold outline of the ramparts,
stopped short with astonishment, and watched its
motions as it appeared gradually to sink into the

shadow of the wall. Just as intelligence seemed to
break upon him, his musket was mysteriously lifted
from his hands into the air, and he felt himself clasped
around the neck by a pair of legs, and his throat
grasped by no gentle hand.

“The devil has got me at last!” he hoarsely exclaimed,
with horror in his face.

“And he hath caught no saint, brother! The countersign—out
with it, or I will choke thee!”

“Orleans and Spain!” answered the soldier, between
pain and affright.

“Treachery! treason! Ho, guards, up!” shouted
the captain, rushing from the guardhouse on hearing
the voices, but stopped with surprise at the singular
scene.

“If thou open thy mouth now, villain, I will kill
thee!” whispered Gobin in the soldier's ear. “A
bon noche to thee, brother Spain. Have I disturbed
thy sleep?” he asked, with great address, coolly turning
to the officer. “If I have, I meant it not. Cousin
Blue-cap and I are having a moonlight gossip o' it. I
sit upon his shoulders, I being a-short-legged, and gossip
something long in the bones.”

“In the fiend's name, tell who thou art?” demanded
the captain of the guard, who was now at the head
of a score of men, all equally surprised at what they
saw. “Gaspar, what means this?”

“Cousin Gaspar hath the lockjaw, brother,” answered
Gobin. “I leave him to your skill. Give him a
glass o' wine; nothing like wine to loosen the jawhinges.
Take thy arquebuss, Gaspar,” he added,
placing the weapon in the hand of the soldier, whose
fear was rapidly turning to rage, which was not a little
increased by the smile that he detected lurking in
the face of his captain, who by this time began truly to
appreciate the character of Gobin.

“Jump to the ground, and I will give thee a cup o'
my best Malmsey, merry Jackanapes,” he said to the
jester, whose broad visage could not be long in producing

its legitimate effect upon the risible muscles of
those who for the first time beheld it.

“Wilt thou treat me fairly, cousin, if I get down?”
he asked, warily.

“Down with thee, and may Beelzebub have the
roasting of thy carcass!” cried the huge soldier, furiously,
vainly endeavouring to shake him off, amid
the maddening roars of laughter of his comrades.

The fool gave him a ringing box on the ear; and,
leaping to the ground with a loud laugh of mischievous
triumph, ran off with the speed of the wind.

“Nay, thy cup of wine, gossip mine,” called after
him the amused captain of the guard.

“I will give him a barrel of it,” fiercely said the
soldier Gaspar, levelling and cocking his piece.

“Hold! or I will cut thee down,” cried the officer.

“I will fire if I die for it!” he answered, fiercely;
and deliberately he pulled the trigger and discharged
the piece.

Gobin, who had not got eighty yards from the post,
instantly fell with a loud shriek, rolled over on the
ground several times, and then, to the surprise of all,
jumped up, and fled along the path taken by Renault
with renewed speed, while, at the same instant, the
soldier received the sword of his enraged officer deep
into his shoulder, and sank, with a heavy groan, to the
ground.

Gobin, who had fallen between sudden pain and affright,
on getting to his feet, ran a few hundred yards
farther, when, feeling his hand wet and glutinous, he
looked at it with misgiving (for the pain had instantly
passed away with the first shock), and to his horror
discovered that the joint of his little finger was shot
off. He instinctively gave utterance to a loud, terrific
yell, and cast himself headlong upon the ground,
where for a few minutes he rolled and roared in the
most extraordinary manner—now with rage, now with
grief, now with pain. At length becoming exhausted,
he sat down upon a stone, and began to comfort himself
with shreds of philosophy, and see how he could

best turn his wound to his own personal profit and account,
not forgetting, meanwhile, to bind it tenderly
in his handkerchief. He was at length about to
rise up and go towards the old government-house,
when he saw the troop approaching, with Renault
at their head. He then changed his mind and sat
down again; and presently began to give voice to the
wailings that reached the sympathizing ear of the
quadroon.

“What aileth thee?” asked Renault, feelingly, dismounting
from his horse beside him.

“Slain, cousin Renault! Slain! Bullets and baggenets!
Gobin ha' got it! I have bled a barrel and
a bucket full. I haven't two pints o' pure red blood
left!”

“What hath harmed thee, Gobin? I see no wound.
If any one hath hurt thee in malice, he shall repent it!
Show me thy hurt!”

Here Gobin tenderly raised his left hand, and showed
Renault the mutilated member.

“What brute hath done this?” he asked, with indignation.

Gobin informed him in a few pathetic words, and
Renault bade him mount behind him and he would
avenge him.

“Nay, he ha' got it; I saw him cut down by the
captain for it.”

“Then rest content, fair cousin,” said Renault, with
playfulness; “thou wilt ne'er be the worse for the loss
of thy finger joint; the story of it will be worth to thee
a silver penny each one of the seven times an hour
thou wilt tell it, if thou canst find listeners so often.
Go back to the gate, and couple with the merry captain
thou hast told of, and see if thy blood-letting hath
not cleared thy wits, for thou must, by stratagem, open
the gates, that myself and troop of brave riders may
sally out. Thou knowest, with thy quick perceptions,
all I want. Do it fairly, and I will give thee a pension
for thy little finger's sake, and no man shall say thou
didst not get thy wound fighting side by side with stalwart

men-at-arms. Bind up thy finger, and forget it
till morning. I will then give thee golden salve for it.
Go now to the barrier, while we ride slowly forward.
Let me hear from thee within a quarter of an hour.
All depends on thy address, remember, Gobin!”

“Wit, cousin, is not perfect wit without folly. Wit
is a golden louis-d'or in the pocket when a penny is
needed, while folly is its small change. As thou and
thine are all gold coins, and must needs have some
light money to pay thy toll through the barrier, I must
e'en give it thee in charity. When thou hearest an
ass bray, cousin Renault, know I am among asses, and
that the gate is open for thee.”

Thus speaking, Gobin, in whom the prospect of a
pension and the consideration his wound would give
him, with all his former character returning upon him,
limped ludicrously away as if he had lost a toe instead
of a finger, and soon disappeared in the direction of
the post. He had not been absent above twenty minutes,
when Renault, who, with Alfrède and his whole
troop, had been impatiently listening, heard the loud
braying of an ass just as he had turned himself in his
saddle to give the order to dash forward and surprise
the post.

“It is the signal, Charleval! The fool hath done
it: though I must confess, much as I trusted in his peculiar
powers and cunning, I had not calculated on
success. It may still be doubtful. But let us ride.
Fall in two by two, and trot forward in double file and
close column!” he cried, spurring on.

The whole line was instantly in rapid motion, and,
issuing from the shaded lane into the broad avenue,
wheeled round the corner and pressed towards the
barrier, which Renault and Alfrède both at the same
instant saw was open. “Victoire! brave Gobin!” they
both exclaimed in the one breath.

“Advance! at a gallop!” shouted Charleval.

“Close column, and spur to the rowel!” added Renault.

Sword in hand they came up to the wide opened

barrier, over the top of which Gobin was descried,
grinning from ear to ear with mischievous triumph
and extravagant delight, capering and shouting as if
gone mad with the excitement of the moving spectacle;
while on either side of the gate, paralyzed with
sudden fear, stood the astonished Spaniards and their
captain.

“Orleans and Spain!” shouted Renault, as he dashed
through.

“Orleans and Liberty!” cried Charleval, following
him like the wind.

The Spanish captain looked on with fear, as if a
troop of spirit-riders were prancing by, while with
ringing chains, thundering hoofs, and a loud, rushing
noise, the three hundred horsemen passed through the
barrier into the open country. In a few minutes afterward
they were lost to the eyes of the awe-stricken
soldiers in the windings of a forest path, which penetrated
deep into the gloomy recesses of the forest.