Through Night to Light Part 77

Pretty Lisbeth was very fond of Mr. Schmenckel, whose gallantry was universal. She had overheard part of the conversation between her mistress, Timm, and Goodheart, and their leaving through the back-door had roused her suspicions. She thought she ought to tell her admirer what she had seen, especially as she liked to show him what a false p.u.s.s.y-cat Mrs. Rose was--a fact of which she had often tried to convince him in vain. Schmenckel at once appreciated the importance of her communications. If there was a door in the bas.e.m.e.nt which led into Brother street, and if Timm and Goodheart, whom Schmenckel by no means trusted, knew this door, then it was most a.s.suredly very expedient to see if that door was carefully locked.

Schmenckel let Lisbeth go, and told the men at his table what he had heard. They all were of opinion that a reconnoissance ought to be made at once. But at the very moment when the men took up their arms and turned to the door which led into the store-room in question, the door was opened from the other side and a troop of soldiers rushed in, Albert Timm and the detective in their midst.

The sudden appearance of the s.h.i.+ning helmets and guns, and the firing which began instantly, though fortunately quite at random, filled some of the barricade men with such terror that they rushed helter skelter up the steps and fled into the street. Here they were met by Oswald and Berger, who had been attracted by the firing, and now came to Schmenckel's a.s.sistance, who had until now alone contended with the soldiers.

Schmenckel had seized one of the guns which had just been fruitlessly discharged, and attacked the invaders, first with the b.u.t.t end, and when this was broken with the iron barrel, so powerfully that two or three were lying disabled on the floor, and the others were retiring panic-struck through the back door. There, however, they met their advancing comrades, and this caused a fearful confusion, especially as Oswald, Berger, Schmenckel, and the other men, who had recovered from their surprise, now also pressed down into the half-lighted rooms and engaged in a terrible conflict.

The attacking party was perhaps half as strong again as their enemies, and better armed; but these advantages were offset by Berger's and Oswald's impetuous valor, and the gigantic strength of Schmenckel. The powerful man wielded his terrible weapon indefatigably, and not a blow fell in vain upon the heads of the unfortunate soldiers. Thus he cut his way to the door which led into the court-yard, at which he met several escaping soldiers, while others were eagerly crowding after them. And now he had attained his end. Seizing with his irresistible arms a few of the men hemmed in between the door and the door-frame, and pulling them down into the store-room, he closed the heavy iron door, pushed the strong iron bar across, leaned his broad back against it, and cried, whirling his gun-barrel in a circle around him.

"Now we have gotten our sheep together, professor! No one can get out or in any more. Caspar Schmenckel will see to that."

The horror had reached its crisis. In the narrow badly-lighted room, under-ground and reeking with mould and blood, men fought like wild beasts. The soldiers defended themselves desperately; but as their friends could only thunder at the inner door without coming to their a.s.sistance, the result was not long doubtful. The butchery, however, might have continued for some time if Oldenburg had not come down with part of his men from the barricade. He threatened to shoot down instantly every man who should not at once lay down his arms. The soldiers, deprived of all hope of succor, surrendered, and entered one by one from the lower room into the drinking saloon, where they were disarmed. The poor fellows presented a piteous sight There was not one of them who was not seriously wounded. Their bright uniforms in rags, out of breath, pale with fright and exhaustion, stained with blood and dust and dirt--thus they stood there surrounded by the barricade men, who likewise bore the marks of a severe conflict. But the low cellar contained greater horrors than these. When lights were brought two bodies were seen lying lifeless in their blood, a soldier and a civilian. The soldier had in his wild flight thrown himself upon his own bayonet, which pierced him through and through, and no doubt had killed him instantly. The civilian had received a terrible cut across the head. He was still groaning as they carried him up stairs, but he also died in a few minutes. At first they thought it was one of the barricade men, but no one knew him. Oswald also approached the table on which he had been laid, and after having examined the distorted countenance for a moment, he saw to his indescribable horror that the stiff bleeding corpse was all that remained of the Merry Andrew, the inexhaustible clown and punster, his boon companion of so many a wild night, the same man from whom he had parted in anger and hatred a few hours ago--Albert Timm.

CHAPTER XVIII.

During the next hour a pause occurred in the fight near the barricade in Broad street. The regiment of the line, which had charged it five times in vain, had been reinforced by several battalions of the Guards who had been fighting in King street, and successfully taken several barricades. These troops followed different tactics; they did not advance in close columns, but in small detachments on both sides of the street, as much as possible under cover, and keeping apart till they could form once more close before the barricade. But if their losses were smaller, their success was by no means greater. The besieged systematically saved their fire till the last moment, and then fired so coolly at the right moment, that the position seemed to be simply impregnable. In fact the firing on the part of the troops had ceased for some time, and the men behind the barricade could rest awhile.

They needed it sadly. Mostly entirely exhausted, blackened with powder, all more or less dangerously wounded, they sat and lay about in small groups, strangely lighted up by the red light of the watch-fires that had been kindled in the middle of the street, by the white glare of the candles in the windows, and the pale rays of the full moon, which was still gliding gently and silently through the blue ether above. Amid the groups of fighting men, women and girls were seen bringing provisions from the neighboring houses. There was no lack of beer, and wine even, and it looked as if here and there too much had been distributed. At least every now and then sudden shouts and yells were heard from one or the other group, after which the deep silence became all the more oppressive. Upon a cask which formed part of the barricade sat Oldenburg; his long legs were hanging down, and he blew thick clouds of smoke from his cigar. His air was that of a man who has a.s.sumed a serious responsibility and is determined to carry out what he has undertaken. He did not doubt for a moment that the barricade would be taken, and that he would fall at the head of his men; but this was the last thing he thought of. To die in a good cause had no terrors for him. Oldenburg actually fancied he felt a faint desire for death in his heart. Had he not seen how the sweet hope of at last calling Melitta his own had been recently put off once more, and further than ever? He could not blame her that the memory of her fondness for Oswald was weighing her down like an Alp, and made it impossible to her to raise her eyes boldly to a better and more faithful man; but the very fact that he could not but honor her for the feeling which parted them made him so very hopeless and helpless. He had often and often repeated to himself the word that Melitta spoke so touchingly whenever she saw him sorrowful: Patience! But in vain! He was consumed by impatience, by his inability to do anything else for his happiness than to fold his hands in his lap and to wait with trusting heart for something vague and uncertain.

Just then the revolution had broken out and Oldenburg breathed more freely, as thousands with him. Every one had borne some intolerable burden, which he now hoped to shake off. Oldenburg was glad that Melitta was not present. He had at the very beginning sent her word through old Baumann to stay at her safe place of refuge. When he sent the old man to her he thought in his heart: We meet again happier or never more! He now only wished for Oswald to fight by his side for liberty and for Melitta. The issue might then be an ordeal, and Melitta crown the victorious survivor.

And his wish was fulfilled. For an hour Oswald had been fighting by his side like a man who prefers death to life. Wherever a defective part of the barricade had to be repaired under the fire of the enemy, wherever danger was most threatening, there Oswald was sure to be; and as Oldenburg also chose the most exposed positions, the two men were constantly side by side. But as soon as the danger was over Oswald withdrew, and Oldenburg did not follow him as his withdrawing was evidently intentional. And yet the n.o.ble man was anxious, now that every hour might be their last, to tell his former friend that they ought to forget the past and join the hands that were on both sides engaged in a great and holy cause.

Oldenburg's eyes followed Oswald, as he went to his post, at some little distance from him, and stood there, rifle in hand, near Berger, by the watch-fire. In the changeful light their forms now stood forth brightly, and now were lost in the dark shade. This lent them something strange, almost supernatural. Oldenburg could not help thinking of the spirits who beckon to the ferryman on the banks of the Acheron.

He rose and went up to them.

"What do you think, gentlemen," he said; "are we going to be left alone long?"

"I believe," said Oswald, "they are either short of ammunition or they have sent for reinforcements."

"I think that is more likely. What do you think, Berger?"

Berger had been standing there, his arms crossed, and his large eyes fixed immoveably upon the flames. Suddenly he stretched out his hands and said, in a hollow, spectre-like tone of voice,

"Listen! They are coming! The earth trembles beneath them! How they whip their horses, who are tired dragging more and more weapons against the people! Now they alight! And now they cram the iron mouths full to bursting. We will----"

"Berger!" said Oldenburg, placing his hand on his arm.

Berger started like one who is suddenly roused from a heavy dream. He looked around in confusion.

"What is it?" he asked, staring at Oldenburg.

"You are exhausted by excessive efforts, Berger. Lie down for an hour.

I will have you called when you are needed."

"Exhausted?" said Berger, relapsing into his dreamy state. "Yes; exhausted unto death. But that is why an hour is not enough; when I go to sleep, it must be an eternal sleep."

At that moment Schmenckel stepped up, who had been on guard upon the barricade, and said,

"There is something very peculiar going on. I believe they are going to give us artillery now."

Berger started up.

"Did I not tell you?" he cried. "The decisive hour has come. Up! up!

you brave men; all of you! One more merry dance with the weird fairies of life, and then to unbroken rest in the cool night of death. Up! up!"

At this call some of the men rose from their resting-places near the fire, seized their arms, and hastened with Berger to their posts.

Others remained where they were and laughed at the false alarm. But they also were quickly enough upon their feet when an explosion came which shook the houses to their foundations, and grape and canister came rattling against the barricade and the faces of the houses.

"Now they are in earnest," said Oldenburg, turning to Oswald. But the place where Oswald had been standing was empty.

"He avoids me," said Oldenburg, sadly, "and yet my conscience is quiet.

I have no reproach to make to myself as far as he is concerned."

He hastened to the barricade, where the captain's presence was more needed than ever.

The first gun, which had opened the dance, was now joined by three more, and the thunder came almost uninterruptedly, and with it the iron hail. There was no doubt they wanted to make a break in the barricade, and then charge once more with better result. Oldenburg, not wis.h.i.+ng to expose the lives of his men unnecessarily, had given orders that they should keep as much as possible under cover, and not return the fire of the enemy, but save every shot for the moment of the charge itself. He had also doubled the number of men with stones on the house-tops.

Finally he chose from among the men who had shown most bravery a select corps, which was to fall upon the attacking party and engage them till the others should have had time to seek shelter behind the barricades in the adjoining streets.

Oldenburg had just given his directions when battery opened a most terrific fire and then suddenly became silent.

One moment all was perfectly still.

Perfectly still, and then the iron clang of twenty drums beating the charge. And with every beat the column drew nearer, a living wall, apparently irresistible in its approach.

Not a sound on the barricade. Up on the roofs stand men and boys, with heavy stones in their hands; in the windows of the houses, and near the openings in the barricade, the marksmen are watching, with their rifles close to the eye.

And the drums beat and the living wall comes nearer. Already one can distinguish the handsome uniform of the Guards; one can see the beardless faces of the men, and the black-bearded countenance of the gigantic officer who leads the attack. And now the officer gives a command, drowned in the beating of the drums; and as he waves his bright sword the men cheer, and with three hurrahs they rush forward.

But before they reach the barricade twenty rifles are discharged, and hundreds of stones are hurled down from above upon the living wall, and it wavers and trembles like a huge wave in the ocean which dashes its foam-crested waters against a rocky coast.

Nevertheless it rolls on, and now it breaks against the barricade. The officer pulls out huge pieces. Nothing, it seems, can resist his gigantic strength. But suddenly a man in a worn-out velvet coat, who wields as his only weapon a rifle-barrel without the stock, leaps down and faces the officer. When the officer sees the man he starts back as if struck by lightning, and roars to his men: "Halt! Halt!"

They halt.

The men of the barricade avail themselves of this pause and fire once more. The officer falls dead, face foremost; with him half a dozen men fall, more or less dangerously wounded. A panic seizes the troops. The officers try in vain to lead them to the attack.

The barricade is safe once more; they cheer again and again; they embrace each other with tears of joy in their eyes. But they have paid dearly for their victory. While part of the men repair the barricade, which is half destroyed, another part is busy with the dead and wounded. The man in the velvet coat brings up the corpse of a man, who has fought like a hero in the front rank, and who has fallen by his side, pierced with the enemy's bayonets.

Oldenburg comes up to help them.

"Is he dead?"

"Yes."