IV. A Polish Exile

by Louisa May Alcott

　　"Room for one here, sir," said the guard, as the train stopped atCarlsruhe next day, on its way from Heidelberg to Baden.The major put down his guide-book, Amy opened her eyes, and Helenremoved her shawl from the opposite seat, as a young man, wrapped ina cloak, with a green shade over his eyes, and a general air offeebleness, got in and sank back with a sigh of weariness or pain.Evidently an invalid, for his face was thin and pale, his dark haircropped short, and the ungloved hand attenuated and delicate as awoman's. A sidelong glance from under the deep shade seemed to satisfyhim regarding his neighbors, and drawing his cloak about him with aslight shiver, he leaned into the corner and seemed to forget that hewas not alone.Helen and Amy exchanged glances of compassionate interest, for womenalways pity invalids, especially if young, comely and of the oppositesex. The major took one look, shrugged his shoulders, and returnedto his book. Presently a hollow cough gave Helen a pretext fordiscovering the nationality of the newcomer."Do the open windows inconvenience you, sir?" she asked, in English.No answer; the question evidently unintelligible.She repeated it in French, lightly touching his cloak to arrest hisattention.Instantly a smile broke over the handsome mouth, and in the purestFrench he assured her that the fresh air was most agreeable, andbegged pardon for annoying them with his troublesome cough."Not an invalid, I hope, sir?" said the major, in his bluff yet kindlyvoice."They tell me I can have no other fate; that my malady is fatal; but Istill hope and fight for my life; it is all I have to give my countrynow."A stifled sigh and a sad emphasis on the last word roused the sympathyof the girls, the interest of the major.He took another survey, and said, with a tone of satisfaction, ashe marked the martial carriage of the young man, and caught a fieryglance of the half-hidden eyes,--"You are a soldier, sir?""I was; I am nothing now but an exile, for Poland is in chains."The words "Poland" and "exile" brought up all the pathetic stories ofthat unhappy country which the three listeners had ever heard, and wontheir interest at once."You were in the late revolution, perhaps?" asked the major, givingthe unhappy outbreak the most respectful name he could use."From beginning to end.""Oh, tell us about it; we felt much sympathy for you, and longed tohave you win," cried Amy, with such genuine interest and pity in hertone, it was impossible to resist.Pressing both hands upon his breast, the young man bent low, with aflush of feeling on his pale cheek, and answered eagerly,--"Ah, you are kind; it is balm to my sore heart to hear words likethese. I thank you, and tell you what you will. It is but little thatI do, yet I give my life, and die a long death, instead of a quick,brave one with my comrades.""You are young to have borne a part in a revolution, sir," said themajor, who pricked up his ears like an old war-horse at the sound ofbattle."My friends and myself left the University at Varsovie, as volunteers;we did our part, and now all lie in their graves but three.""You were wounded, it seems?""Many times. Exposure, privation, and sorrow will finish what theRussian bullets began. But it is well. I have no wish to see mycountry enslaved, and I can no longer help her.""Let us hope that a happier future waits for you both. Poland lovesliberty too well, and has suffered too much for it, to be kept long incaptivity."Helen spoke warmly, and the young man listened with a brighteningface."It is a kind prophecy; I accept it, and take courage. God knows Ineed it," he added, low to himself."Are you bound for Italy?" said the major, in a most un-English fit ofcuriosity."For Geneva first, Italy later, unless Montreaux is mild enough for meto winter in. I go to satisfy my friends, but doubt if it avails.""Where is Montreaux?" asked Amy."Near Clarens, where Rousseau wrote his Heloise, and Vevay, whereso many English go to enjoy Chillon. The climate is divine forunfortunates like myself, and life more cheap there than in Italy."Here the train stopped again, and Hoffman came to ask if the ladiesdesired anything.At the sound of his voice the young Pole started, looked up, andexclaimed, with the vivacity of a foreigner, in German,--"By my life, it is Karl! Behold me, old friend, and satisfy me that itis thyself by a handshake.""Casimer! What wind blows thee hither, my boy, in such sad plight?"replied Hoffman, grasping the slender hand outstretched to him."I fly from an enemy for the first time in my life, and, like allcowards, shall be conquered in the end. I wrote thee I was better, butthe wound in the breast reopened, and nothing but a miracle will saveme. I go to Switzerland; and thou?""Where my master commands. I serve this gentleman, now.""Hard changes for both, but with health thou art king ofcircumstances, while I?--Ah well, the good God knows best. Karl, gothou and buy me two of those pretty baskets of grapes; I will pleasemyself by giving them to these pitying angels. Speak they German?""One, the elder; but they understand not this rattle of ours."Karl disappeared, and Helen, who had understood the rapid dialogue,tried to seem as unconscious as Amy."Say a friendly word to me at times; I am so homesick andfaint-hearted, my Hoffman. Thanks; they are almost worthy the lipsthat shall taste them."Taking the two little osier baskets, laden with yellow and purpleclusters, Casimer offered them, with a charming mixture of timidityand grace, to the girls, saying, like a grateful boy,--"You give me kind words and good hopes; permit that I thank you inthis poor way.""I drink success to Poland." cried Helen, lifting a great, juicy grapeto her lips, like a little purple goblet, hoping to hide her confusionunder a playful air.The grapes went round, and healths were drunk with much merriment,for in travelling on the Continent it is impossible for the gruffest,primmest person to long resist the frank courtesy and vivacious chatof foreigners.The major was unusually social and inquisitive, and while the soldiersfought their battles over again the girls listened and took notes,with feminine wits on the alert to catch any personal revelationswhich might fall from the interesting stranger. The wrongs andsufferings of Poland were discussed so eloquently that both youngladies were moved to declare the most undying hatred of Russia,Prussia, and Austria, the most intense sympathy for "poor Pologne."All day they travelled together, and as Baden-Baden approached, theynaturally fell to talking of the gay place."Uncle, I must try my fortune once. I've set my heart upon it, andso has Nell. We want to know how gamblers feel, and to taste thefascination of the game which draws people here from all parts ofEurope," said Amy, in her half-pleading, half-imperious way."You may risk one napoleon each, as I foolishly promised you should,when I little thought you would ever have an opportunity to remind meof my promise. It's not an amusement for respectable Englishwomen, ormen either. You will agree with me there, monsieur?" and the majorglanced at the Pole, who replied, with his peculiar smile:--"Surely, yes. It is great folly and waste of time and money; yet Ihave known one man who found some good in it, or, rather, brought goodout of it. I have a friend who has a mania for giving. His own fortunewas spent in helping needy students at the University, and poorprofessors. This displeased his father, and he refused supplies,except enough for his simple personal wants. Sigismund chafed at this,and being skilful at all games, as a gentleman may be in the way ofamusement, he resolved to play with those whose money was wasted onfrivolities, and give his winnings to his band of paupers.""How did it succeed, this odd fancy?" asked Helen, with an interestedface, while Amy pinched her arm at the word "Sigismund.""Excellently. My friend won often, and as his purpose became known itcaused no unkind feeling, this unusual success, for fortune seemed tofavor his kind object.""Wrong, nevertheless, to do evil that good may come of it," said themajor, morally."It may be so: but it is not for me to censure my benefactor. He hasdone much for my countrymen and myself, and is so truly noble I cansee no fault in him.""What an odd name! Sigismund is German, is it not?" asked Amy, in themost artless tone of interest."Yes, mademoiselle, and Palsdorf is a true German; much courage,strength and intellect, with the gayety and simplicity of a boy. Hehates slavery of all kinds, and will be free at all costs. He is agood son, but his father is tyrannical, and asks too much. Sigismundwill not submit to sell himself, and so is in disgrace for a time.""Palsdorf!--was not that the name of the count or baron we heard themtalking of at Coblentz?" said Helen to Amy, with a well-feigned air ofuncertainty."Yes; I heard something of a duel and a broken betrothal, I think. Thepeople seemed to consider the baron a wild young man, so it could nothave been your friend, sir," was Amy's demure reply, glancing at Helenwith mirthful eyes, as if to say, "How our baron haunts us!""It is the same, doubtless. Many consider him wild, because he isoriginal, and dares act for himself. As it is well known, I may tellyou the truth of the duel and the betrothal, if you care to hear alittle romance."Casimer looked eager to defend his friend, and as the girls werelonging to hear the romance, permission was given."In Germany, you know, the young people are often betrothed inchildhood by the parents, and sometimes never meet till they aregrown. Usually all goes well; but not always, for love cannot come atcommand. Sigismund was plighted, when a boy of fifteen, to hisyoung cousin, and then sent away to the University till of age. Onreturning, he was to travel a year or two, and then marry. He gladlywent away, and with increasing disquiet saw the time draw near when hemust keep his troth-plight.""Hum! loved some one else. Very unfortunate to be sure," said themajor with a sigh."Not so; he only loved his liberty, and pretty Minna was less dearthan a life of perfect freedom. He went back at the appointedtime, saw his cousin, tried to do his duty and love her; found itimpossible, and, discovering that Minna loved another, vowed he wouldnever make her unhappiness as well as his own. The old baron stormed,but the young one was firm, and would not listen to a marriage withoutlove; but pleaded for Minna, wished his rival success, and set outagain on his travels.""And the duel?" asked the major, who took less interest in love thanwar."That was as characteristic as the other act. A son of one high inoffice at Berlin circulated false reports of the cause of Palsdorf'srefusal of the alliance--reports injurious to Minna. Sigismund settledthe matter in the most effectual manner, by challenging and woundingthe man. But for court influence it would have gone hardly with myfriend. The storm, however, has blown over; Minna will be happy withher lover, and Sigismund with his liberty, till he tires of it.""Is he handsome, this hero of yours?" said Amy, feeling the ring underher glove, for in spite of Helen's advice, she insisted on wearing it,that it might be at hand to return at any moment, should chance againbring the baron in their way."A true German of the old type; blond and blue-eyed, tall and strong.My hero in good truth--brave and loyal, tender and true," was theenthusiastic answer."I hate fair men," pouted Amy, under her breath, as the major askedsome question about hotels."Take a new hero, then; nothing can be more romantic than that,"whispered Helen, glancing at the pale, dark-haired figure wrapped inthe military cloak opposite."I will, and leave the baron to you;" said Amy, with a stifled laugh."Hush! Here are Baden and Karl," replied Helen, thankful for theinterruption.All was bustle in a moment, and taking leave of them with an airof reluctance, the Pole walked away, leaving Amy looking after himwistfully, quite unconscious that she stood in everybody's way, andthat her uncle was beckoning impatiently from the carriage door."Poor boy! I wish he had some one to take care of him." she sighed,half aloud."Mademoiselle, the major waits;" and Karl came up, hat in hand, justin time to hear her and glance after Casimer, with an odd expression.