In the midst of a bittersweet, forlorn dream, he awoke with a jolt. The ground literally quaked as if the earth had been cleaved open. Was it morning already?
Elmer peered out from under the blanket ever so cautiously. Yes, it was morning. The golden light of the early sun streamed into the dank darkness of the cave, illuminating the entrance thus Elmer could make out any shadows of intruders. Of course, not too many people come out this way; it is so remote and forbidding what with the threat of wild, stray dogs and other beasts. Elmer swore he heard a noise coming from outside; the vibrations suggested hoofbeats, but he could be wrong.
Perhaps a few villagers or their children ventured out, hunting small game or gathering nuts to supplement their scanty sustenance.
Still somewhat groggy, Elmer slipped under the blanket and went back to sleep. There would be time later today to scrounge for food and water. Perhaps, now that the rains had stopped, he would travel to the village; those good people should be able to part with whatever sustenance they have.
He hadn't slept long. An unsettling dream, not unlike the ones he had in previous nights, disturbed him greatly. In his dream state, he saw her again, Lucienne Gravier, the woman who could have been his wife. In that dream, he saw himself as he was in earlier, happier times. He was handsome and fashionable again, strong and healthy. Lucienne was at his side, ever the beauty in her silk and velvet finery. They were there, in the luxuriously well-appointed mansion that served as Elmer's family home. In the ornate drawing room they Elmer and Lucienne sat surrounded by family and friends, many of whom were of royal and noble blood. Under the lavishly sparkling crystal chandelier ablaze with hundreds of candles, they sat, totally enthralled by the little chamber orchestra performing a series of charming pieces. The twinkling sounds of harpsichord contrasted sharply to that of violins and flute – all engaged in playful melodies that touched the heart and soul.
They sat together – he and Lucienne – each planning their future together. The elegant couple next to them wished them well. How wonderful, how gratifying to be complimented by a such couple. It was an honor indeed.
However, happiness never came. Too many events colliding into each other thwarted his and Lucienne's future, and that of that couple. What was a charmed existence suddenly and brutally transformed into chaos. Everything they knew had been cast aside, the old giving way to the new. Life – at least life as they knew it – in the city became increasingly impossible, dangerous even. Their married acquaintances fled the city, only to be captured. Or so that is what Elmer heard from the villagers. News travelled fast in these unsettled times. What fate awaits his beloved friend? Moreover, what possibly happened to his Lucienne? Obviously, from the stories filtering in from the city, nearly all his friends have died – executed so they said. For what? For having a noble name? It seemed to Elmer that these people were bent on changing everything, and for the worse. Of course, Elmer partially sympathized with those who had not been born into privilege and wealth. However, if change is to come, why do it so violently, so bloodily?
This is why he had to get out, escape with his life. So unfortunate he didn't have time to rescue Lucienne from her fate; she had been captured anyway. At least, to Elmer, he could have stayed behind, allow himself to be captured along with Lucienne, then the pair would face their death together. He felt somewhat guilty leaving his beloved, but there was no choice. In the two years since he fled the city, he never stopped thinking about Lucienne. Perhaps, if her life was spared, she still thinks of him and finds ways to reclaim her lost love. But what does it matter? Lucienne most likely thinks he is dead, and she has simply found another to love.
The dream's idyllic scenes soon dissolved into a nightmarish sequence of events. He heard angry shouting accompanied by demands to surrender. People literally banged on the door, calling for Elmer's head, and that of those in his company. In his dream state, he relived it over and over. The incessant banging on doors and windows, the angry threats, the sheer rage of the mob were too much to bear. Elmer relived that night in this dream. All he could conjure in his subconscious was Lucienne frantically trying to escape, with Elmer ordering servants to bolt the doors and shutter windows. He himself escaped through the underground tunnel which used to serve as a secret passage for Gypsies and Jews. This passage, accessed through a trapdoor beneath the servants' quarters, was used back in medieval times when those outcast peoples had to find ways in and out the city without being detected. It served them well then; it will have to do now.
He thought Lucienne was behind him, and he looked back to see she was not there. Something made him turn back, make his way up the dark, narrow steps leading to the servants' quarters. He had barely gotten the door open, even dared to poke his head up only to see his servants rounded up. There was talk that Lucienne was captured; she was simply not fast enough. That was confirmed by Valèry, Elmer's faithful valet who urged his master to save himself. He gave Elmer that black velvet bag wherein contained the emerald ring. Approaching footsteps and shouting could be heard, so Valèry hastily closed the trapdoor, concealing it with an old rug. Valèry was the last one carried out in chains. Elmer got away, feeling extremely guilty that he left Lucienne behind.
Those shouts, those raging chords of discord. They played in Elmer's dreams so vividly that he awoke with a jolt. He swore, even in his agitated state, he could hear thunderous noises coming from inside the cave. The sounds of hoofbeats and men shouting.
Elmer became quite apprehensive as the noise grew louder, closer. He feared bandits or highwaymen had found the alternate entrance to the cave. Perhaps this is where they hide out to stash their booty, and no guard or solider within miles to capture them. So much lawlessness and disorder these days. The old order has completely broken down; nothing remotely resembles what used to be. Now the entire country has been thrown into chaos and uncertainty.
Shaking his head, Elmer gathered his meager belongings, deciding to make a quick exit. Perhaps he would return to the safety of the village; there, at least, he knew peace and contentment. Peering out, he saw no one on the path or lurking amid the trees. So he alighted out, being as quiet as possible. He had few possessions, yet he didn't want to fall victim to robbers. They would take what little he had, and once they discover that ring, they would surely kill him. Maybe it was, if it came to that, for the best. He had remained in hiding for two years, turning his back on all he knew. At this moment in time, it would be better for Death to overtake him, release him from this self-imposed, poverty-stricken existence.
Once outside, Elmer walked along the trail, taking care not to detected. As he found himself on the main road, the sounds of men shouting and clip-clop of hooves could be heard again, this time coming from behind.
Growing quite apprehensive, frightened even, Elmer cautiously turned around only to see the Gruelles, a nice little family from the village. Not a large family by ordinary standards – they had only one child – but Loys and Catherine Gruelle were pleasant people, thankful that they were blessed with one beautiful daughter of twelve summers. That daughter, Cecille, became quite close to Elmer during his flight from himself. In fact, she was one his first friends, often bringing him wonderful things to eat; Cecille was a budding culinary wonder, destined to be head cook to a fortunate nobleman in later years.
Elmer greeted the family with, "Ah, Monsieur and Madame Gruelle. For a moment I thought I was being stalked by bandits."
Loys laughed, saying, "Oh, Monsieur Elmer, there are no bandits around here. We thought that, since the rains finally stopped, to take in this beautiful day with a walk to the orchards. The apples are especially delicious this time of year."
Cecille, strangely silent for a girl who loved to talk, walked up to Elmer and said quietly, "Do you have it?"
"Have what?," he replied, unsure of the girl's inquiry. "Why, the ring, Monsieur Elmer. I've told Maman and Papa about it, that you showed it to me when you were in the village yesterday. Is it true? That your father gave it to you, and it's the only one like it in the world?"
Loys raised an eyebrow; Catherine became equally curious. The later asked, "Monsieur Elmer, is this true? Is there such a priceless thing in your possession?"
Loys added, "My good man, if this ring is indeed valuable – It must be, if what you told our daughter is true, that it is the only one in the world."
"And," said Catherine, "Cecille does not lie. Please, show it to us."
Elmer didn't quite know how to respond. Part of him wanted to show the ring to the Gruelles; another part wanted to refuse. Oh what to do? With some hesitation, he reached inside his coat, withdrawing that shabby black velvet bag. "It has been so long since I've shown this to anyone, that is, outside Cecille," he said as he opened the bag. When he produced the ring, the couple gasped at the ring's incredible beauty, the sheer size of the emerald itself.
Catherine, marvelling at the ring, commented, "Surely, monsieur, this is quite valuable. Why do you keep it? Why not sell it, that way you could afford some nice clothes, even pay your fare back to England. You said you had family there, and that they miss you."
Elmer replied, "No, madame, I shall not sell it. I know the sum it will fetch would ensure me a comfortable life, but it is, after all, a gift from my father. So I shall keep it with me always."
"May I?," asked Loys, his hand outstretched. "I just want to get a closer look. And I assure you I shall not steal it."
Elmer laughingly obliged the man, smiling as he handed the ring to Monsieur Gruelle. Loys examined the ring, noting the size of the emerald, the inscription on the inside of golden band. He nodded to his wife who in turn took out a white handkerchief. The daughter stepped to her father's side, asking, "What did you say your father's name was?"
"Er," Elmer said somewhat hesitantly, "Franklin...Franklin Porter is his name, and he gave that to me long ago. He told me before I departed England to keep with that with me always. He never said from where he acquired such a beauty." He hated to lie and hoped the Gruelles would not catch him in a falsehood. He watched as Loys Gruelle examined the ring further as if the man wanted to extract evidence that would reveal Elmer's true identity.
Catherine, her handkerchief blowing in the breeze, said to her daughter and husband, "Well, it is getting rather late. Loys, return Monsieur Elmer's ring and let us be on our way."
Loys, not wanting to let go of such a treasure, prepared to hand back the ring, but something gave him pause. He said to Elmer, "Monsieur, you say your father is Franklin Porter, but when you first came to Cachè, before my you met my daughter, you claimed your father was long dead. Yet, now, you speak of him in the present, as if he still lives." Loys Gruelle, not a man to outright accuse one of misrepresentation, had his suspicions about the man who called himself "Elmer".
Now Elmer panicked. He had no idea his lies would catch up to him so fast. He also knew his father's name wasn't Franklin; it was François. And he wasn't from England although he had extended family there, from his mother Axelle's side. How long had it been since he visited the other side of the Channel? Nearly six years ago, six years before the madness set in and turned his world upside down. Perhaps he should have left the country altogether; England would be much more hospitable than this place. At least, from what snatches of conversation he gleaned from the villagers – and they were not that far removed from the city – he could tell those noble folks on the opposite side of the Channel harbored much sympathy for the beleaguered souls such as himself.
Time was of the essence. Already, the countryside teemed with spies; these good people, pleasant as they seemed, could be rebellion sympathizers.
His heart racing, his palms sweaty, Elmer slowing outstretched his hand, saying, "My ring, sir," and nothing else. Loys Gruelle took his time handing back the ring, only to hold back long enough to read the engraved inscription.
"This is quite interesting, Monsieur Elmer...Or should I say..."
Loys, his voice suddenly raised to a resounding forte which reverberated all through the seemingly deserted countryside, exclaimed, his eyes glowing sheer hate for the man standing before him, "Or should I say...Alban, Viscomte de La Porte, son of François La Porte, Comte de La Porte, and friend to Louis and Marie Antoinette, which makes you an enemy of the people!"
TO BE CONTINUED...Go to the Conclusion
Copyright © 2005 by P.R. Parker. All Rights Reserved.