White Lies

  CHAPTER XXI.

  The French army lay before a fortified place near the Rhine, which wewill call Philipsburg.

  This army knew Bonaparte by report only; it was commanded by generals ofthe old school.

  Philipsburg was defended on three sides by the nature of the ground; buton the side that faced the French line of march there was only a zigzagwall, pierced, and a low tower or two at each of the salient angles.

  There were evidences of a tardy attempt to improve the defences. Inparticular there was a large round bastion, about three times the heightof the wall; but the masonry was new, and the very embrasures were notyet cut.

  Young blood was for assaulting these equivocal fortifications at the endof the day's march that brought the French advanced guard in sight ofthe place; but the old generals would not hear of it; the soldiers'lives must not be flung away assaulting a place that could be reduced intwenty-one days with mathematical certainty. For at this epoch a siegewas looked on as a process with a certain result, the only problem wasin how many days would the place be taken; and even this they used tosettle to a day or two on paper by arithmetic; so many feet of wall, andso many guns on the one side; so many guns, so many men, and such andsuch a soil to cut the trenches in on the other: result, two figuresvarying from fourteen to forty. These two figures represented theduration of the siege.

  For all that, siege arithmetic, right in general, has often beenterribly disturbed by one little incident, that occurs from time totime; viz., Genius INside. And, indeed, this is one of the sins ofgenius; it goes and puts out calculations that have stood the brunt ofyears. Archimedes and Todleben were, no doubt, clever men in their wayand good citizens, yet one characteristic of delicate men's minds theylacked--veneration; they showed a sad disrespect for the wisdom of theancients, deranged the calculations which so much learning and patientthought had hallowed, disturbed the minds of white-haired veterans, tooksieges out of the grasp of science, and plunged them back into the fieldof wild conjecture.

  Our generals then sat down at fourteen hundred yards' distance, andplanned the trenches artistically, and directed them to be cut atartful angles, and so creep nearer and nearer the devoted town. Then thePrussians, whose hearts had been in their shoes at first sight of theFrench shakos, plucked up, and turned not the garrison only but thepopulation of the town into engineers and masons. Their fortificationsgrew almost as fast as the French trenches.

  The first day of the siege, a young but distinguished brigadier in theFrench army rode to the quarters of General Raimbaut, who commandedhis division, and was his personal friend, and respectfully but firmlyentreated the general to represent to the commander-in-chief thepropriety of assaulting that new bastion before it should becomedangerous. "My brigade shall carry it in fifteen minutes, general," saidhe.

  "What! cross all that open under fire? One-half your brigade would neverreach the bastion."

  "But the other half would take it."

  "That is not so certain."

  General Raimbaut refused to forward the young colonel's proposal toheadquarters. "I will not subject you to TWO refusals in one matter,"said he, kindly.

  The young colonel lingered. He said, respectfully, "One question,general, when that bastion cuts its teeth will it be any easier to takethan now?"

  "Certainly; it will always be easier to take it from the sap than tocross the open under fire to it, and take it. Come, colonel, to yourtrenches; and if your friend should cut its teeth, you shall have abattery in your attack that will set its teeth on edge. Ha! ha!"

  The young colonel did not echo his chief's humor; he saluted gravely,and returned to the trenches.

  The next morning three fresh tiers of embrasures grinned one aboveanother at the besiegers. The besieged had been up all night, and notidle. In half these apertures black muzzles showed themselves.

  The bastion had cut its front teeth.

  Thirteenth day of the siege.

  The trenches were within four hundred yards of the enemy's guns, andit was hot work in them. The enemy had three tiers of guns in the roundbastion, and on the top they had got a long 48-pounder, which theyworked with a swivel joint, or the like, and threw a great roaring shotinto any part of the French lines.

  As to the commander-in-chief and his generals, they were dotted abouta long way in the rear, and no shot came as far as them; but in thetrenches the men began now to fall fast, especially on the left attack,which faced the round bastion. Our young colonel had got his heavybattery, and every now and then he would divert the general effortsof the bastion, and compel it to concentrate its attention on him, bypounding away at it till it was all in sore places. But he meant itworse mischief than that. Still, as heretofore, regarding it as the keyto Philipsburg, he had got a large force of engineers at work driving amine towards it, and to this he trusted more than to breaching it; forthe bigger holes he made in it by day were all stopped at night by thetownspeople.

  This colonel was not a favorite in the division to which his brigadebelonged. He was a good soldier, but a dull companion. He was alsoaccused of hauteur and of an unsoldierly reserve with his brotherofficers.

  Some loose-tongued ones even called him a milk-sop, because he wasconstantly seen conversing with the priest--he who had nothing to say toan honest soldier.

  Others said, "No, hang it, he is not a milk-sop: he is a tried soldier:he is a sulky beggar all the same." Those under his immediate commandwere divided in opinion about him. There was something about him theycould not understand. Why was his sallow face so stern, so sad? and whywith all that was his voice so gentle? somehow the few words that didfall from his mouth were prized. One old soldier used to say, "I wouldrather have a word from our brigadier than from the commander-in-chief."Others thought he must at some part of his career have pillaged achurch, taken the altar-piece, and sold it to a picture-dealer in Paris,or whipped the earrings out of the Madonna's ears, or admitted thefemale enemy to quarter upon ungenerous conditions: this, or some suchcrime to which we poor soldiers are liable: and now was committing themistake of remording himself about it. "Always alongside the chaplain,you see!"

  This cold and silent man had won the heart of the most talkativesergeant in the French army. Sergeant La Croix protested with many oathsthat all the best generals of the day had commanded him in turn, andthat his present colonel was the first that had succeeded in inspiringhim with unlimited confidence. "He knows every point of war--thisone," said La Croix, "I heard him beg and pray for leave to storm thisthundering bastion before it was armed: but no, the old muffs would bewiser than our colonel. So now here we are kept at bay by a place thatJulius Caesar and Cannibal wouldn't have made two bites at apiece; nomore would I if I was the old boy out there behind the hill." In suchterms do sergeants denote commanders-in-chief--at a distance. A volublesergeant has more influence with the men than the minister of war isperhaps aware: on the whole, the 24th brigade would have followed itsgloomy colonel to grim death and a foot farther. One thing gave thesemen a touch of superstitious reverence for their commander. He seemedto them free from physical weakness. He never SAT DOWN to dinner, andseemed never to sleep. At no hour of the day or night were the sentriessafe from his visits.

  Very annoying. But, after awhile, it led to keen watchfulness: the moreso that the sad and gloomy colonel showed by his manner he appreciatedit. Indeed, one night he even opened his marble jaws, and told SergeantLa Croix that a watchful sentry was an important soldier, not to hisbrigade only, but to the whole army. Judge whether the maxim and theimplied encomium did not circulate next morning, with additions.

  Sixteenth day of the siege. The round bastion opened fire at eighto'clock, not on the opposing battery, but on the right of the Frenchattack. Its advanced position enabled a portion of its guns to rakethese trenches slant-wise: and depressing its guns it made the roundshot strike the ground first and ricochet over.

  On this our colonel opened on them with all his guns: one of thesehe served himself. Among his other warlike a
ccomplishments, he wasa wonderful shot with a cannon. He showed them capital practice thismorning: drove two embrasures into one, and knocked about a ton ofmasonry off the parapet. Then taking advantage of this, he served two ofhis guns with grape, and swept the enemy off the top of the bastion,and kept it clear. He made it so hot they could not work the upper guns.Then they turned the other two tiers all upon him, and at it bothsides went ding, dong, till the guns were too hot to be worked. So thenSergeant La Croix popped his head up from the battery, and showedthe enemy a great white plate. This was meant to convey to them aninvitation to dine with the French army: the other side of the table ofcourse.

  To the credit of Prussian intelligence be it recorded, that thispantomimic hint was at once taken and both sides went to dinner.

  The fighting colonel, however, remained in the battery, and kept adetachment of his gunners employed cooling the guns and repairing thetouch-holes. He ordered his two cutlets and his glass of water into thebattery.

  Meantime, the enemy fired a single gun at long intervals, as much as tosay, "We had the last word."

  Let trenches be cut ever so artfully, there will be a little spaceexposed here and there at the angles. These spaces the men are orderedto avoid, or whip quickly across them into cover.

  Now the enemy had just got the range of one of these places with theirsolitary gun, and had already dropped a couple of shot right on to it.A camp follower with a tray, two cutlets, and a glass of water, came tothis open space just as a puff of white smoke burst from the bastion.Instead of instantly seeking shelter till the shot had struck, he, inhis inexperience, thought the shot must have struck, and all danger beover. He stayed there mooning instead of pelting under cover: theshot (eighteen-pound) struck him right on the breast, knocked him intospilikins, and sent the mutton cutlets flying.

  The human fragments lay quiet, ten yards off. But a soldier that waseating his dinner kicked it over, and jumped up at the side of "Death'sAlley" (as it was christened next minute), and danced and yelled withpain.

  "Haw! haw! haw!" roared a soldier from the other side of the alley.

  "What is that?" cried Sergeant La Croix. "What do you laugh at, PrivateCadel?" said he sternly, for, though he was too far in the trench tosee, he had heard that horrible sound a soldier knows from every other,the "thud" of a round shot striking man or horse.

  "Sergeant," said Cadel, respectfully, "I laugh to see Private Dard, thatgot the wind of the shot, dance and sing, when the man that got the shotitself does not say a word."

  "The wind of the shot, you rascal!" roared Private Dard: "look here!"and he showed the blood running down his face.

  The shot had actually driven a splinter of bone out of the sutler intoDard's temple.

  "I am the unluckiest fellow in the army," remonstrated Dard: and hestamped in a circle.

  "Seems to me you are only the second unluckiest this time," said a youngsoldier with his mouth full; and, with a certain dry humor, he pointedvaguely over his shoulder with the fork towards the corpse.

  The trenches laughed and assented.

  This want of sympathy and justice irritated Dard. "You cursed fools!"cried he. "He is gone where we must all go--without any trouble. Butlook at me. I am always getting barked. Dogs of Prussians! they pick meout among a thousand. I shall have a headache all the afternoon, you seeelse."

  Some of our heads would never have ached again: but Dard had a goodthick skull.

  Dard pulled out his spilikin savagely.

  "I'll wrap it up in paper for Jacintha," said he. "Then that will learnher what a poor soldier has to go through."

  Even this consolation was denied Private Dard.

  Corporal Coriolanus Gand, a bit of an infidel from Lyons, who sometimesamused himself with the Breton's superstition, told him with a graveface, that the splinter belonged not to him, but to the sutler, and,though so small, was doubtless a necessary part of his frame.

  "If you keep that, it will be a bone of contention between you two,"said he; "especially at midnight. HE WILL BE ALWAYS COMING BACK TO YOUFOR IT."

  "There, take it away!" said the Breton hastily, "and bury it with thepoor fellow."

  Sergeant La Croix presented himself before the colonel with a ruefulface and saluted him and said, "Colonel, I beg a thousand pardons; yourdinner has been spilt--a shot from the bastion."

  "No matter," said the colonel. "Give me a piece of bread instead."

  La Croix went for it himself, and on his return found Cadel sitting onone side of Death's Alley, and Dard with his head bound up on the other.They had got a bottle which each put up in turn wherever he fanciedthe next round shot would strike, and they were betting their afternoonrations which would get the Prussians to hit the bottle first.

  La Croix pulled both their ears playfully.

  "Time is up for playing marbles," said he. "Be off, and play at duty,"and he bundled them into the battery.

  It was an hour past midnight: a cloudy night. The moon was up, but seenonly by fitful gleams. A calm, peaceful silence reigned.

  Dard was sentinel in the battery.

  An officer going his rounds found the said sentinel flat instead ofvertical. He stirred him with his scabbard, and up jumped Dard.

  "It's all right, sergeant. O Lord! it's the colonel. I wasn't asleep,colonel."

  "I have not accused you. But you will explain what you were doing."

  "Colonel," said Dard, all in a flutter, "I was taking a squint at them,because I saw something. The beggars are building a wall, now."

  "Where?"

  "Between us and the bastion."

  "Show me."

  "I can't, colonel; the moon has gone in; but I did see it."

  "How long was it?"

  "About a hundred yards."

  "How high?"

  "Colonel, it was ten feet high if it was an inch."

  "Have you good sight?"

  "La! colonel, wasn't I a bit of a poacher before I took to the bayonet?"

  "Good! Now reflect. If you persist in this statement, I turn out thebrigade on your information."

  "I'll stand the fire of a corporal's guard at break of day if I make amistake now," said Dard.

  The colonel glided away, called his captain and first lieutenants, andsaid two words in each ear, that made them spring off their backs.

  Dard, marching to an fro, musket on shoulder, found himself suddenlysurrounded by grim, silent, but deadly eager soldiers, that came pouringlike bees into the open space behind the battery. The officers cameround the colonel.

  "Attend to two things," said he to the captains. "Don't fire till theyare within ten yards: and don't follow them unless I lead you."

  The men were then told off by companies, some to the battery, some tothe trenches, some were kept on each side Death's Alley, ready for arush.

  They were not all of them in position, when those behind the parapetsaw, as it were, something deepen the gloom of night, some fourscoreyards to the front: it was like a line of black ink suddenly drawn upona sheet covered with Indian ink.

  It seems quite stationary. The novices wondered what it was. Theveterans muttered--"Three deep."

  Though it looked stationary, it got blacker and blacker. The soldiers ofthe 24th brigade griped their muskets hard, and set their teeth, and thesergeants had much ado to keep them quiet.

  All of a sudden, a loud yell on the right of the brigade, two or threesingle shots from the trenches in that direction, followed by a volley,the cries of wounded men, and the fierce hurrahs of an attacking party.

  Our colonel knew too well those sounds: the next parallel had beensurprised, and the Prussian bayonet was now silently at work.

  Disguise was now impossible. At the first shot, a guttural voice infront of Dujardin's men was heard to give a word of command. There wasa sharp rattle and in a moment the thick black line was tipped withglittering steel.

  A roar and a rush, and the Prussian line three deep came furiously likea huge steel-pointed wave, at the French lines. A treme
ndous wave offire rushed out to meet that wave of steel: a crash of two hundredmuskets, and all was still. Then you could see through the blacksteel-tipped line in a hundred frightful gaps, and the ground sparkledwith bayonets and the air rang with the cries of the wounded.

  A tremendous cheer from the brigade, and the colonel charged at the headof his column, out by Death's Alley.

  The broken wall was melting away into the night. The colonel wheeledhis men to the right: one company, led by the impetuous young CaptainJullien, followed the flying enemy.

  The other attack had been only too successful. They shot the sentries,and bayoneted many of the soldiers in their tents: others escaped byrunning to the rear, and some into the next parallel.

  Several, half dressed, snatched up their muskets, killed one Prussian,and fell riddled like sieves.

  A gallant officer got a company together into the place of arms andformed in line.

  Half the Prussian force went at them, the rest swept the trenches: theFrench company delivered a deadly volley, and the next moment clashthe two forces crossed bayonets, and a silent deadly stabbing match wasplayed: the final result of which was inevitable. The Prussians werefive to one. The gallant officer and the poor fellows who did their dutyso stoutly, had no thought left but to die hard, when suddenly a roaringcheer seemed to come from the rear rank of the enemy. "France! France!"Half the 24th brigade came leaping and swarming over the trenches in thePrussian rear. The Prussians wavered. "France!" cried the little partythat were being overpowered, and charged in their turn with such furythat in two seconds the two French corps went through the enemy's centrelike paper, and their very bayonets clashed together in more than onePrussian body.

  Broken thus in two fragments the Prussian corps ceased to exist as amilitary force. The men fled each his own way back to the fort, and manyflung away their muskets, for French soldiers were swarming in from allquarters. At this moment, bang! bang! bang! from the bastion.

  "They are firing on my brigade," said our colonel. "Who has led hiscompany there against my orders? Captain Neville, into the battery, andfire twenty rounds at the bastion! Aim at the flashes from their middletier."

  "Yes, colonel."

  The battery opened with all its guns on the bastion. The right attackfollowed suit. The town answered, and a furious cannonade roared andblazed all down both lines till daybreak. Hell seemed broken loose.

  Captain Jullien had followed the flying foe: but could not come up withthem: and, as the enemy had prepared for every contingency, thefatal bastion, after first throwing a rocket or two to discover theirposition, poured showers of grape into them, killed many, and would havekilled more but that Captain Neville and his gunners happened by mereaccident to dismount one gun and to kill a couple of gunners at theothers. This gave the remains of the company time to disperse and runback. When the men were mustered, Captain Jullien and twenty-five ofhis company did not answer to their names. At daybreak they were visiblefrom the trenches lying all by themselves within eighty yards of thebastion.

  A flag of truce came from the fort: the dead were removed on both sidesand buried. Some Prussian officers strolled into the French lines.Civilities and cigars exchanged: "Bon jour," "Gooten daeg:" then at itagain, ding dong all down the line blazing and roaring.

  At twelve o'clock the besieged had got a man on horseback, on top of ahill, with colored flags in his hand, making signals.

  "What are you up to now?" inquired Dard.

  "You will see," said La Croix, affecting mystery; he knew no more thanthe other.

  Presently off went Long Tom on the top of the bastion, and the shot cameroaring over the heads of the speakers.

  The flags were changed, and off went Long Tom again at an elevation.

  Ten seconds had scarcely elapsed when a tremendous explosion took placeon the French right. Long Tom was throwing red-hot shot; one had fallenon a powder wagon, and blown it to pieces, and killed two poor fellowsand a horse, and turned an artillery man at some distance into a seemingnigger, but did him no great harm; only took him three days to get thepowder out of his clothes with pipe clay, and off his face with rawpotato-peel.

  When the tumbril exploded, the Prussians could be heard to cheer, andthey turned to and fired every iron spout they owned. Long Tom workedall day.

  They got into a corner where the guns of the battery could not hitthem or him, and there was his long muzzle looking towards the sky, andsending half a hundredweight of iron up into the clouds, and plungingdown a mile off into the French lines.

  And, at every shot, the man on horseback made signals to let the gunnersknow where the shot fell.

  At last, about four in the afternoon, they threw a forty-eight-poundshot slap into the commander-in-chief's tent, a mile and a half behindtrenches.

  Down comes a glittering aide-de-camp as hard as he can gallop.

  "Colonel Dujardin, what are you about, sir? YOUR BASTION has thrown around shot into the commander-in-chief's tent."

  The colonel did not appear so staggered as the aide-de-camp expected.

  "Ah, indeed!" said he quietly. "I observed they were trying distances."

  "Must not happen again, colonel. You must drive them from the gun."

  "How?"

  "Why, where is the difficulty?"

  "If you will do me the honor to step into the battery, I will show you,"said the colonel.

  "If you please," said the aide-de-camp stiffly.

  Colonel Dujardin took him to the parapet, and began, in a calm,painstaking way, to show him how and why none of his guns could bebrought to bear upon Long Tom.

  In the middle of the explanation a melodious sound was heard in the airabove them, like a swarm of Brobdingnag bees.

  "What is that?" inquired the aide-de-camp.

  "What? I see nothing."

  "That humming noise."

  "Oh, that? Prussian bullets. Ah, by-the-by, it is a compliment to youruniform, monsieur; they take you for some one of importance. Well, as Iwas observing"--

  "Your explanation is sufficient, colonel; let us get out of this. Ha,ha! you are a cool hand, colonel, I must say. But your battery is a warmplace enough: I shall report it so at headquarters."

  The grim colonel relaxed.

  "Captain," said he politely, "you shall not have ridden to my post invain. Will you lend me your horse for ten minutes?"

  "Certainly; and I will inspect your trenches meantime."

  "Do so; oblige me by avoiding that angle; it is exposed, and the enemyhave got the range to an inch."

  Colonel Dujardin slipped into his quarters; off with his half-dressjacket and his dirty boots, and presently out he came full fig,glittering brighter than the other, with one French and two foreignorders shining on his breast, mounted the aide-de-camp's horse, and awayfull pelt.

  Admitted, after some delay, into the generalissimo's tent, Dujardinfound the old gentleman surrounded by his staff and wroth: nor was thedanger to which he had been exposed his sole cause of ire.

  The shot had burst through his canvas, struck a table on which was alarge inkstand, and had squirted the whole contents over the despatcheshe was writing for Paris.

  Now this old gentleman prided himself upon the neatness of hisdespatches: a blot on his paper darkened his soul.

  Colonel Dujardin expressed his profound regret. The commander, however,continued to remonstrate. "I have a great deal of writing to do,"said he, "as you must be aware; and, when I am writing, I expect to bequiet."

  Colonel Dujardin assented respectfully to the justice of this. He thenexplained at full length why he could not bring a gun in the battery tosilence "Long Tom," and quietly asked to be permitted to run a gun outof the trenches, and take a shot at the offender.

  "It is a point-blank distance, and I have a new gun, with which a manought to be able to hit his own ball at three hundred yards."

  The commander hesitated.

  "I cannot have the men exposed."

  "I engage not to lose a man--except him who fi
res the gun. HE must takehis chance."

  "Well, colonel, it must be done by volunteers. The men must not beORDERED out on such a service as that."

  Colonel Dujardin bowed, and retired.

  "Volunteers to go out of the trenches!" cried Sergeant La Croix, ina stentorian voice, standing erect as a poker, and swelling withimportance.

  There were fifty offers in less than as many seconds.

  "Only twelve allowed to go," said the sergeant; "and I am one," addedhe, adroitly inserting himself.

  A gun was taken down, placed on a carriage, and posted near Death'sAlley, but out of the line of fire.

  The colonel himself superintended the loading of this gun; and to thesurprise of the men had the shot weighed first, and then weighed out thepowder himself.

  He then waited quietly a long time till the bastion pitched one of itsperiodical shots into Death's Alley, but no sooner had the shot struck,and sent the sand flying past the two lanes of curious noses, thanColonel Dujardin jumped upon the gun and waved his cocked hat. At thispreconcerted signal, his battery opened fire on the bastion, and thebattery to his right opened on the wall that fronted them; and thecolonel gave the word to run the gun out of the trenches. They ran itout into the cloud of smoke their own guns were belching forth, unseenby the enemy; but they had no sooner twisted it into the line of LongTom, than the smoke was gone, and there they were, a fair mark.

  "Back into the trenches, all but one!" roared Dujardin.

  And in they ran like rabbits.

  "Quick! the elevation."

  Colonel Dujardin and La Croix raised the muzzle to the mark--hoo, hoo,hoo! ping, ping, ping! came the bullets about their ears.

  "Away with you!" cried the colonel, taking the linstock from him.

  Then Colonel Dujardin, fifteen yards from the trenches, in full blazinguniform, showed two armies what one intrepid soldier can do. He kneeleddown and adjusted his gun, just as he would have done in a practisingground. He had a pot shot to take, and a pot shot he would take. Heignored three hundred muskets that were levelled at him. He lookedalong his gun, adjusted it, and re-adjusted it to a hair's breadth. Theenemy's bullets pattered upon it: still he adjusted it delicately. Hismen were groaning and tearing their hair inside at his danger.

  At last it was levelled to his mind, and then his movements were asquick as they had hitherto been slow. In a moment he stood erect in thehalf-fencing attitude of a gunner, and his linstock at the touch-hole:a huge tongue of flame, a volume of smoke, a roar, and the ironthunderbolt was on its way, and the colonel walked haughtily but rapidlyback to the trenches; for in all this no bravado. He was there to make ashot; not to throw a chance of life away watching the effect.

  Ten thousand eyes did that for him.

  Both French and Prussians risked their own lives craning out to seewhat a colonel in full uniform was doing under fire from a whole lineof forts, and what would be his fate; but when he fired the gun theircuriosity left the man and followed the iron thunderbolt.

  For two seconds all was uncertain; the ball was travelling.

  Tom gave a rear like a wild horse, his protruding muzzle went upsky-high, then was seen no more, and a ring of old iron and a clatter offragments was heard on the top of the bastion. Long Tom was dismounted.Oh! the roar of laughter and triumph from one end to another of thetrenches; and the clapping of forty thousand hands that went on for fullfive minutes; then the Prussians, either through a burst of generouspraise for an act so chivalrous and so brilliant, or because they wouldnot be crowed over, clapped their tea thousand hands as loudly, and thusthundering, heart-thrilling salvo of applause answered salvo on bothsides that terrible arena.

  That evening came a courteous and flattering message from thecommander-in-chief to Colonel Dujardin; and several officers visited hisquarters to look at him; they went back disappointed. The cry was, "Whata miserable, melancholy dog! I expected to see a fine, dashing fellow."

  The trenches neared the town. Colonel Dujardin's mine was far advanced;the end of the chamber was within a few yards of the bastion. Of late,the colonel had often visited this mine in person. He seemed a littleuneasy about something in that quarter; but no one knew what: he was asilent man. The third evening, after he dismounted Long Tom, he receivedprivate notice that an order was coming down from the commander-in-chiefto assault the bastion. He shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing.That same night the colonel and one of his lieutenants stole out of thetrenches, and by the help of a pitch-dark, windy night, got under thebastion unperceived, and crept round it, and made their observations,and got safe back. About noon down came General Raimbaut.

  "Well, colonel, you are to have your way at last. Your bastion is tobe stormed this afternoon previous to the general assault. Why, how isthis? you don't seem enchanted?"

  "I am not."

  "Why, it was you who pressed for the assault."

  "At the right time, general, not the wrong. In five days I undertake toblow that bastion into the air. To assault it now would be to waste ourmen."

  General Raimbaut thought this excess of caution a great pieceof perversity in Achilles. They were alone, and he said a littlepeevishly,--

  "Is not this to blow hot and cold on the same thing?"

  "No, general," was the calm reply. "Not on the same thing. I blew hotupon timorous counsels; I blow cold on rash ones. General, last nightLieutenant Fleming and I were under that bastion; and all round it."

  "Ah! my prudent colonel, I thought we should not talk long without yourcoming out in your true light. If ever a man secretly enjoyed riskinghis life, it is you."

  "No, general," said Dujardin looking gloomily down; "I enjoy neitherthat nor anything else. Live or die, it is all one to me; but to thelives of my soldiers I am not indifferent, and never will be while Ilive. My apparent rashness of last night was pure prudence."

  Raimbaut's eye twinkled with suppressed irony. "No doubt!" said he; "nodoubt!"

  The impassive colonel would not notice the other's irony; he went calmlyon:--

  "I suspected something; I went to confute, or confirm that suspicion. Iconfirmed it."

  Rat! tat! tat! tat! tat! tat! tat! was heard a drum. Relieving guard inthe mine.

  Colonel Dujardin interrupted himself.

  "That comes apropos," said he. "I expect one proof more from thatquarter. Sergeant, send me the sentinel they are relieving."

  Sergeant La Croix soon came back, as pompous as a hen with one chick,predominating with a grand military air over a droll figure thatchattered with cold, and held its musket in hands clothed in greatmittens. Dard.

  La Croix marched him up as if he had been a file; halted him like afile, sang out to him as to a file, stentorian and unintelligible, afterthe manner of sergeants.

  "Private No. 4."

  DARD. P-p-p-present!

  LA CROIX. Advance to the word of command, and speak to the colonel.

  The shivering figure became an upright statue directly, and carried oneof his mittens to his forehead. Then, suddenly recognizing the rank ofthe gray-haired officer, he was morally shaken, but remained physicallyerect, and stammered,--

  "Colonel!--general!--colonel!"

  "Don't be frightened, my lad. But look at the general and answer me."

  "Yes! general! colonel!" and he levelled his eye dead at the general, ashe would a bayonet at a foe, being so commanded.

  "Now answer in as few syllables as you can."

  "Yes! general--colonel."

  "You have been on guard in the mine."

  "Yes, general."

  "What did you see there?"

  "Nothing; it was night down there."

  "What did you feel?"

  "Cold! I--was--in--water--hugh!"

  "Did you hear nothing, then?"

  "Yes."

  "What?"

  "Bum! bum! bum!"

  "Are you sure you did not hear particles of earth fall at the end of thetrench?"

  "I think it did, and this (touching his musket) sounded of its o
wnaccord."

  "Good! you have answered well; go."

  "Sergeant, I did not miss a word," cried Dard, exulting. He thoughthe had passed a sort of military college examination. The sergeant wasawe-struck and disgusted at his familiarity, speaking to him before thegreat: he pushed Private Dard hastily out of the presence, and bundledhim into the trenches.

  "Are you countermined, then?" asked General Raimbaut.

  "I think not, general; but the whole bastion is. And we found it hadbeen opened in the rear, and lately half a dozen broad roads cut throughthe masonry."

  "To let in re-enforcements?"

  "Or to let the men run out in ease of an assault. I have seen from thefirst an able hand behind that part of the defences. If we assault thebastion, they will pick off as many of us as they can with their musketsthen they will run for it, and fire a train, and blow it and us into theair."

  "Colonel, this is serious. Are you prepared to lay this statement beforethe commander-in-chief?"

  "I am, and I do so through you, the general of my division. I even begyou to say, as from me, that the assault will be mere suicide--bloodyand useless."

  General Raimbaut went off to headquarters in some haste, a thoroughconvert to Colonel Dujardin's opinion. Meantime the colonel wentslowly to his tent. At the mouth of it a corporal, who was also hisbody-servant, met him, saluted, and asked respectfully if there were anyorders.

  "A few minutes' repose, Francois, that is all. Do not let me bedisturbed for an hour."

  "Attention!" cried Francois. "Colonel wants to sleep."

  The tent was sentinelled, and Dujardin was alone with the past.

  Then had the fools, that took (as fools will do) deep sorrow forsullenness, seen the fiery soldier droop, and his wan face fall intohaggard lines, and his martial figure shrink, and heard his stout heartsigh! He took a letter from his bosom: it was almost worn to pieces. Hehad read it a thousand times, yet he read it again. A part of the sweetsad words ran thus:--

  "We must bow. We can never be happy together on earth; let us makeHeaven our friend. This is still left us,--not to blush for our love; todo our duty, and to die."

  "How tender, but how firm," thought Camille. "I might agitate, taunt,grieve her I love, but I could not shake her. No! God and the saints tomy aid! they saved me from a crime I now shudder at. And they have givenme the good chaplain: he prays with me, he weeps for me. His prayersstill my beating heart. Yes, poor suffering angel! I read your will inthese tender, but bitter, words: you prefer duty to love. And one dayyou will forget me; not yet awhile, but it will be so. It wounds me whenI think of it, but I must bow. Your will is sacred. I must rise to yourlevel, not drag you to mine."

  Then the soldier that had stood between two armies in a hail of bullets,and fired a master-shot, took a little book of offices in one hand,--thechaplain had given it him,--and fixed his eyes upon the pious words,and clung like a child to the pious words, and kissed his lost wife'sletter, and tried hard to be like her he loved: patient, very patient,till the end should come.

  "Qui vive?" cried the sentinel outside to a strange officer.

  "France," was his reply. He then asked the sentinel, "Where is thecolonel commanding the brigade?"

  The sentinel lowered his voice, "Asleep, my officer," said he; for thenew-comer carried two epaulets.

  "Wake him," said the officer in a tone of a man used to command on alarge scale.

  Dujardin heard, and did not choose a stranger should think he wasasleep in broad day. He came hastily out of the tent, therefore, withJosephine's letter in his hand, and, in the very act of conveying it tohis bosom, found himself face to face with--her husband.

  Did you ever see two duellists cross rapiers?

  How unlike a theatrical duel! How smooth and quiet the bright bladesare! they glide into contact. They are polished and slippery, yet theyhold each other. So these two men's eyes met, and fastened: neitherspoke: each searched the other's face keenly. Raynal's countenance,prepared as he was for this meeting, was like a stern statue's. Theother's face flushed, and his heart raged and sickened at sight of theman, that, once his comrade and benefactor, was now possessor of thewoman he loved. But the figures of both stood alike haughty, erect, andimmovable, face to face.

  Colonel Raynal saluted Colonel Dujardin ceremoniously. Colonel Dujardinreturned the salute in the same style.

  "You thought I was in Egypt," said Raynal with grim significancethat caught Dujardin's attention, though he did not know quite how tointerpret it.

  He answered mechanically, "Yes, I did."

  "I am sent here by General Bonaparte to take a command," explainedRaynal.

  "You are welcome. What command?"

  "Yours."

  "Mine?" cried Dujardin, his forehead flushing with mortification andanger. "What, is it not enough that you take my"--He stopped then.

  "Come, colonel," said the other calmly, "do not be unjust to an oldcomrade. I take your demi-brigade; but you are promoted to Raimbaut'sbrigade. The exchange is to be made to-morrow."

  "Was it then to announce to me my promotion you came to my quarters?"and Camille looked with a strange mixture of feelings at his oldcomrade.

  "That was the first thing, being duty, you know."

  "What? have you anything else to say to me, then?"

  "I have."

  "Is it important? for my own duties will soon demand me."

  "It is so important that, command or no command, I should have comefurther than the Rhine to say it to you."

  Let a man be as bold as a lion, a certain awe still waits upon doubtand mystery; and some of this vague awe crept over Camille Dujardin atRaynal's mysterious speech, and his grave, quiet, significant manner.

  Had he discovered something, and what? For Josephine's sake, more thanhis own, Camille was on his guard directly.

  Raynal looked at him in silence a moment.

  "What?" said he with a slight sneer, "has it never occurred to youthat I MUST have a serious word to say to you? First, let me put youa question: did they treat you well at my house? at the chateau deBeaurepaire?"

  "Yes," faltered Camille.

  "You met, I trust, all the kindness and care due to a wounded soldierand an officer of merit. It would annoy me greatly if I thought you werenot treated like a brother in my house."

  Colonel Dujardin writhed inwardly at this view of matters. He could notreply in few words. This made him hesitate.

  His inquisitor waited, but, receiving no reply, went on, "Well, colonel,have you shown the sense of gratitude we had a right to look for inreturn? In a word, when you left Beaurepaire, had your consciencenothing to reproach you with?"

  Dujardin still hesitated. He scarcely knew what to think or what to say.But he thought to himself, "Who has told him? does he know all?"

  "Colonel Dujardin, I am the husband of Josephine, the son of Madame deBeaurepaire, and the brother of Rose. You know very well what brings mehere. Your answer?"

  "Colonel Raynal, between men of honor, placed as you and I are, fewwords should pass, for words are idle. You will never prove to me thatI have wronged you: I shall never convince you that I have not. Let ustherefore close this painful interview in the way it is sure to close. Iam at your service, at any hour and place you please."

  "And pray is that all the answer you can think of?" asked Raynalsomewhat scornfully.

  "Why, what other answer can I give you?"

  "A more sensible, a more honest, and a less boyish one. Who doubts thatyou can fight, you silly fellow? haven't I seen you? I want you to showme a much higher sort of courage: the courage to repair a wrong, not thepaltry valor to defend one."

  "I really do not understand you, sir. How can I undo what is done?"

  "Why, of course you cannot. And therefore I stand here ready to forgiveall that is past; not without a struggle, which you don't seem toappreciate."

  Camille was now utterly mystified. Raynal continued, "But of course itis upon condition that you consent to heal the wound you have made
. Ifyou refuse--hum! but you will not refuse."

  "But what is it you require of me?" inquired Camille impatiently.

  "Only a little common honesty. This is the case: you have seduced ayoung lady."

  "Sir!" cried Camille angrily.

  "What is the matter? The word is not so bad as the crime, I take it. Youhave seduced her, and under circumstances--But we won't speak of them,because I am resolved to keep cool. Well, sir, as you said just now,it's no use crying over spilled milk; you can't unseduce the littlefool; so you must marry her."

  "M--m--marry her?" and Dujardin flushed all over, and his heart beat,and he stared in Raynal's face.

  "Why, what is the matter again? If she has played the fool, it was withyou, and no other man: it is not as if she was depraved. Come, my lad,show a little generosity! Take the consequences of your own act--or yourshare of it--don't throw it all on the poor feeble woman. If she hasloved you too much, you are the man of all others that should forgiveher. Come, what do you say?"

  This was too much for Camille; that Raynal should come and demand of himto marry his own wife, for so he understood the proposal. He stared atRaynal in silence ever so long, and even when he spoke it was only tomutter, "Are you out of your senses, or am I?"

  At this it cost Raynal a considerable effort to restrain his wrath.However, he showed himself worthy of the office he had undertaken. Hecontained himself, and submitted to argue the matter. "Why, colonel,"said he, "is it such a misfortune to marry poor Rose? She is young,she is lovely, she has many good qualities, and she would have walkedstraight to the end of her days but for you."

  Now here was another surprise for Dujardin, another mystification.

  "Rose de Beaurepaire?" said he, putting his hand to his head, as if tosee whether his reason was still there.

  "Yes, Rose de Beaurepaire--Rose Dujardin that ought to be, and that isto be, if you please."

  "One word, monsieur: is it of Rose we have been talking all this time?"

  Raynal nearly lost his temper at this question, and the cold,contemptuous tone with which it was put; but he gulped down his ire.

  "It is," said he.

  "One question more. Did she tell you I had--I had"--

  "Why, as to that, she was in no condition to deny she had fallen, poorgirl; the evidence was too strong. She did not reveal her seducer'sname; but I had not far to go for that."

  "One question more," said Dujardin, with a face of anguish. "Is itJos--is it Madame Raynal's wish I should marry her sister?"

  "Why, of course," said Raynal, in all sincerity, assuming that naturallyenough as a matter of course; "if you have any respect for HER feelings,look on me as her envoy in this matter."

  At this Camille turned sick with disgust; then rage and bitternessswelled his heart. A furious impulse seized him to expose Josephine onthe spot. He overcame that, however, and merely said, "She wishes me tomarry her sister, does she? very well then, I decline."

  Raynal was shocked. "Oh," said he, sorrowfully, "I cannot believe thisof you; such heartlessness as this is not written in your face; it iscontradicted by your past actions."

  "I refuse," said Dujardin, hastily; and to tell the truth, not sorry toinflict some pain on the honest soldier who had unintentionally driventhe iron so deep into his own soul.

  "And I," said Raynal, losing his temper, "insist, in the name of my dearJosephine"--

  "Perdition!" snarled Dujardin, losing his self-command in turn.

  "And of the whole family."

  "And I tell you I will never marry her. Upon my honor, never."

  "Your honor! you have none. The only question is would you rather marryher--or die."

  "Die, to be sure."

  "Then die you shall."

  "Ah!" said Dujardin; "did I not tell you we were wasting time?

  "Let us waste no more then. WHEN and WHERE?"

  "At the rear of the commander-in-chief's tent; when you like."

  "This afternoon, then--at five."

  "At five."

  "Seconds?"

  "What for?"

  "You are right. They are only in the way of men who carry sabres; andbesides the less gossip the better. Good-by, till five," and the twosaluted one another with grim ceremony; and Raynal turned on his heel.

  Camille stood transfixed; a fierce, guilty joy throbbed in his heart.His rival had quarrelled with him, had insulted him, had challenged him.It was not his fault. The sun shone bright now upon his cold despair.An hour ago life offered nothing. A few hours more, and then joy beyondexpression, or an end of all. Death or Josephine! Then he rememberedthat this very Josephine wished to marry him to Rose. Then he rememberedRaynal had saved his life. Cold chills crossed his breaking heart.Of all that could happen to him death alone seemed a blessing withoutalloy.

  He stood there so torn with conflicting passions, that he noted neitherthe passing hours nor the flying bullets.

  He was only awakened from his miserable trance by the even tread ofsoldiers marching towards him; he looked up and there were severalofficers coming along the edge of the trench, escorted by a corporal'sguard.

  He took a step or two to meet them. After the usual salutes, one of thethree colonels delivered a large paper, with a large seal, to Dujardin.He read it out to his captains and lieutenants, who had assembled atsight of the cocked hats and full uniforms.

  "Attack by the army to-morrow upon all the lines. Attack of the bastionSt. Andre this evening. The 22d, the 24th, and 12th brigades willfurnish the contingents; the operation will be conducted by one of thecolonels of the second division, to be appointed by General Raimbaut."

  "Aha!" sounded a voice like a trombone at the reader's elbow. "I am justin the nick of time. When, colonel, when?"

  "At five this evening, Colonel Raynal."

  "There," said Raynal, in a half-whisper, to Dujardin; "could they chooseno hour but that?"

  "Do not be uneasy," replied Dujardin, under his breath. He explainedaloud--"the assault will not take place, gentlemen; the bastion ismined."

  "What of that? half of them are mined. We will take our engineers inwith us," said Raynal.

  "Such an assault will be a useless massacre," resumed Dujardin. "Ireconnoitred the bastion last night, and saw their preparations forblowing us to the devil; and General Raimbaut, at my request, is evennow presenting my remarks to the commander-in-chief, and enforcing them.There will be no assault. In a day or two we shall blow the bastion,mines, and all into the air."

  At this moment Raynal caught sight of a gray-haired officer coming atsome distance. "There IS General Raimbaut," said he. "I will go andpay my respects to him." General Raimbaut shook his hand warmly, andwelcomed him to the army. They were old and warm friends. "And you arecome at the right time," said he. "It will soon be as hot here as inEgypt."

  Raynal laughed and said all the better.

  General Raimbaut now joined the group of officers, and entered at oncein the business which had brought him. Addressing himself toColonel Dujardin, first he informs that officer he had presented hisobservations to the commander-in-chief, who had given them the attentionthey merited.

  Colonel Dujardin bowed.

  "But," continued General Raimbaut, "they are overruled by imperiouscircumstances, some of which he did not reveal; they remain in hisown breast. However, on the eve of a general attack, which he cannotpostpone, that bastion must be disarmed, otherwise it would be too fatalto all the storming parties. It is a painful necessity." He added, "TellColonel Dujardin I count greatly on the courage and discipline of hisbrigade, and on his own wise measures."

  Colonel Dujardin bowed. Then he whispered in the other's ear, "Both willalike be wasted."

  The other colonels waved their hats in triumph at thecommander-in-chief's decision, and Raynal's face showed he looked onDujardin as a sort of spoil-sport happily defeated.

  "Well, then, gentlemen," said General Raimbaut, "we begin by settlingthe contingents to be furnished by your several brigades. Say, an equalnumber from each. T
he sum total shall be settled by Colonel Dujardin,who has so long and ably baffled the bastion at this post."

  Colonel Dujardin bowed stiffly and not very graciously. In his heart hedespised these old fogies, compounds of timidity and rashness.

  "So, how many men in all, colonel?" asked General Raimbaut.

  "The fewer the better," replied the other solemnly, "since"--and thendiscipline tied his tongue.

  "I understand you," said the old man. "Shall we say eight hundred men?"

  "I should prefer three hundred. They have made a back door to thebastion, and the means of flight at hand will put flight into theirheads. They will pick off some of our men as we go at them. When therest jump in they will jump out, and"--He paused.

  "Why, he knows all about it before it comes," said one of the colonelsnaively.

  "I do. I see the whole operation and its result before me, as I see thishand. Three hundred men will do."

  "But, general," objected Raynal, "you are not beginning at thebeginning. The first thing in these cases is to choose the officer tocommand the storming party."

  "Yes, Raynal, unquestionably; but you must be aware that is a painfuland embarrassing part of my duty, especially after Colonel Dujardin'sremarks."

  "Ah, bah!" cried Raynal. "He is prejudiced. He has been digging athundering long mine here, and now you are going to make his childuseless. We none of us like that. But when he gets the colors in hishand, and the storming column at his back, his misgivings will all go tothe wind, and the enemy after them, unless he has been committing somecrime, and is very much changed from what I knew him four years ago."

  "Colonel Raynal," said one of the other colonels, politely but firmly,"pray do not assume that Colonel Dujardin is to lead the column; thereare three other claimants. General Raimbaut is to select from us four."

  "Yes, gentlemen, and in a service of this kind I would feel grateful toyou all if you would relieve me of that painful duty."

  "Gentlemen," said Dujardin, with an imperceptible sneer, "the generalmeans to say this: the operation is so glorious that he could hardlywithout partiality assign the command to either of us four claimants.Well, then, let us cast lots."

  The proposal was received by acclamation.

  "The general will mark a black cross on one lot, and he who draws itwins the command."

  The young colonels prepared their lots with almost boyish eagerness.These fiery spirits were sick to death of lying and skulking in thetrenches. They flung their lots into the hat. After them, whoshould approach the hat, lot in hand, but Raynal. Dujardin instantlyinterfered, and held his arm as he was in the act of dropping in hislot.

  "What is the matter?" said Raynal, sharply.

  "This is our affair, Colonel Raynal. You have no command in this army."

  "I beg your pardon, sir, I have yours."

  "Not till to-morrow."

  "Why, you would not take such a pettifogging advantage of an old comradeas that."

  "Tell him the day ends at twelve o'clock," said one of the colonelsinterested by this strange strife.

  "Ah!" cried Raynal, triumphantly; "but no," said he, altering his tone,"let us leave that sort of argument to lawyers. I have come a good manymiles to fight with you, general; and now you must decide to pay me thislittle compliment on my arrival, or put a bitter affront on me--choose!"

  While the old general hesitated, Camille replied, "Since you take thattone there can be but one answer. You are too great a credit to theFrench army for even an apparent slight to be put on you here. Therule, I think, is, that one of the privates shall hold the hat.--Hallo!Private Dard, come here--there--hold this hat."

  "Yes, colonel.--Lord, here is my young mistress's husband!"

  "Silence!"

  And they began to draw, and, in the act of drawing, a change of mannerwas first visible in these gay and ardent spirits.

  "It is not I," said one, throwing away his lot.

  "Nor I."

  "It is I," said Raynal; then with sudden gravity, "I am the lucky one."

  And now that the honor and the danger no longer floated vaguely overfour heads, but had fixed on one, a sudden silence and solemnity tookthe place of eager voices.

  It was first broken by Private Dard saying, with foolish triumph, "And Iheld the hat for you, colonel."

  "Ah, Raynal!" said General Raimbaut, sorrowfully, "it was not worthwhile to come from Egypt for this."

  Raynal made no reply to this. He drew out his watch, and said calmly, hehad no time to lose; he must inspect the detachments he was to command."Besides," said he, "I have some domestic arrangements to make. Hithertoon these occasions I was a bachelor, now I am married." General Raimbautcould not help sighing. Raynal read this aright, and turned to him, "Adroll marriage, my old friend; I'll tell you all about it if ever Ihave the time. It began with a purchase, general, and ends with--with abequest, which I might as well write now, and so have nothing to thinkof but duty afterwards. Where can I write?"

  "Colonel Dujardin will lend you his tent, I am sure."

  "Certainly."

  "And, messieurs," said Raynal, "if I waste time you need not. You canpick me my men from your brigades. Give me a strong spice of old hands."

  The colonels withdrew on this, and General Raimbaut walked sadly andthoughtfully towards the battery. Dujardin and Raynal were left alone.

  "This postpones our affair, sir."

  "Yes, Raynal."

  "Have you writing materials in your tent?"

  "Yes; on the table."

  "You are quite sure the bastion is mined, comrade?"

  This unexpected word and Raynal's gentle appeal touched Dujardin deeply.It was in a broken voice he replied that he was unfortunately too sureof it.

  Raynal received this reply as a sentence of death, and without anotherword walked slowly into Dujardin's tent.

  Dujardin's generosity was up in arms; he followed Raynal, and saideagerly, "Raynal, for Heaven's sake resign this command!"

  "Allow me to write to my wife, colonel," was the cold reply.

  Camille winced at this affront, and drew back a moment; but his noblerpart prevailed. He seized Raynal by the wrist. "You shall not affrontme, you cannot affront me. You go to certain death I tell you, if youattack that bastion."

  "Don't be a fool, colonel," said Raynal: "somebody must lead the men."

  "Yes; but not you. Who has so good a right to lead them as I, theircolonel?"

  "And be killed in my place, eh?"

  "I know the ground better than you," said Camille. "Besides, who caresfor me? I have no friends, no family. But you are married--and so manywill mourn if you"--

  Raynal interrupted him sternly. "You forget, sir, that Rose deBeaurepaire is my sister, when you tell me you have no tie to life."He added, with wonderful dignity and sobriety, "Allow me to write tomy wife, sir; and, while I write, reflect that you can embitter an oldcomrade's last moments by persisting in your refusal to restore hissister the honor you have robbed her of."

  And leaving the other staggered and confused by this sudden blow, heretired into Dujardin's tent, and finding writing materials on a littletable that was there, sat down to pen a line to Josephine.

  Camille knew to whom he was writing, and a jealous pang passed throughhim.

  What he wrote ran thus,--

  "A bastion is to be attacked at five. I command. Colonel Dujardinproposed we should draw lots, and I lost. The service is honorable,but the result may, I fear, give you some pain. My dear wife, it is ourfate. I was not to have time to make you know, and perhaps love me. Godbless you."

  In writing these simple words, Raynal's hard face worked, and hismustache quivered, and once he had to clear his eye with his hand toform the letters. He, the man of iron.

  He who stood there, leaning on his scabbard and watching the writer, sawthis, and it stirred all that was great and good in that grand thoughpassionate heart of his.

  "Poor Raynal!" thought he, "you were never like that before on goinginto action. He is loa
th to die. Ay, and it is a coward's trick to lethim die. I shall have her, but shall I have her esteem? What will thearmy say? What will my conscience say? Oh! I feel already it will gnawmy heart to death; the ghost of that brave fellow--once my dear friend,my rival now, by no fault of his--will rise between her and me, andreproach me with my bloody inheritance. The heart never deceives; I feelit now whispering in my ear: 'Skulking captain, white-livered soldier,that stand behind a parapet while a better man does your work! youassassinate the husband, but the rival conquers you.' There, he puts hishand to his eyes. What shall I do?"

  "Colonel," said a low voice, and at the same time a hand was laid on hisshoulder.

  It was General Raimbaut. The general looked pale and distressed.

  "Come apart, colonel, for Heaven's sake! One word, while he is writing.Ah! that was an unlucky idea of yours."

  "Of mine, general?"

  "'Twas you proposed to cast lots."

  "Good God! so it was."

  "I thought of course it was to be managed so that Raynal should not bethe one. Between ourselves, what honorable excuse can we make?"

  "None, general."

  "The whole division will be disgraced, and forgive me if I say a portionof the discredit will fall on you."

  "Help me to avert that shame then," cried Camille, eagerly.

  "Ah! that I will: but how?"

  "Take your pencil and write--'I authorize Colonel Dujardin to save thehonor of the colonels of the second division.'"

  The general hesitated. He had never seen an order so worded. But atlast he took out his pencil and wrote the required order, after his ownfashion; i.e., in milk and water:--

  On account of the singular ability and courage with which ColonelDujardin has conducted the operations against the Bastion St. Andre, adiscretionary power is given him at the moment of assault to carryinto effect such measures, as, without interfering with thecommander-in-chief's order, may sustain his own credit, and that of theother colonels of the second division.

  RAIMBAUT, General of Division.

  Camille put the paper into his bosom.

  "Now, general, you may leave all to me. I swear to you, Raynal shall notdie--shall not lead this assault."

  "Your hand, colonel. You are an honor to the French armies. How will youdo it?"

  "Leave it to me, general, it shall be done."

  "I feel it will, my noble fellow: but, alas! I fear not without riskingsome valuable life or other, most likely your own. Tell me!"

  "General, I decline."

  "You refuse me, sir?"

  "Yes; this order gives me a discretionary power. I will hand back theorder at your command; but modify it I will not. Come, sir, you veterangenerals have been unjust to me, and listened to me too little allthrough this siege, but at last you have honored me. This order is thegreatest honor that was ever done me since I wore a sword.".

  "My poor colonel!"

  "Let me wear it intact, and carry it to my grave."

  "Say no more! One word--Is there anything on earth I can do for you, mybrave soldier?"

  "Yes, general. Be so kind as to retire to your quarters; there arereasons why you ought not to be near this post in half an hour."

  "I go. Is there NOTHING else?"

  "Well, general, ask the good priest Ambrose, to pray for all those whoshall die doing their duty to their country this afternoon."

  They parted. General Raimbaut looked back more than once at the firm,intrepid figure that stood there unflinching, on the edge of the grave.But HE never took his eye off Raynal. The next minute the sad letter wasfinished, and Raynal walked out of the tent, and confronted the man hehad challenged to single combat.

  I have mentioned elsewhere that Colonel Dujardin had eyes strangelycompounded of battle and love, of the dove and the hawk. And these,softened by a noble act he meditated, now rested on Raynal with astrange expression of warmth and goodness. This strange gaze struckRaynal, so far at least as this; he saw it was no hostile eye. He wasglad of that, for his own heart was calmed and softened by the solemnprospect before him.

  "We, too, have a little account to settle before I order out the men,"said he, calmly, "and I can't give you a long credit. I am pressed fortime."

  "Our quarrel is at an end. When duty sounds the recall, a soldier'sheart leaves private feuds. See! I come to you without anger andill-will. Just now my voice was loud, my manner, I dare say, offensive,and menacing even, and that always tempts a brave fellow like you toresist. But now, you see, I am harmless as a woman. We are alone. Humbugto the winds! I know that you are the only man in this army fit tocommand a division. I know that when you say the assault of that bastionis death, death it is. To the point then; now that my manner is nolonger irritating, now that I am going to die, Camille Dujardin, my oldcomrade, have you the heart to refuse me? am I to die unhappy?"

  "No; no: I will do whatever you like."

  "You will marry that poor girl, then?"

  "Yes."

  "Aha! did not I always say he was a good fellow? Clench the nail; giveme your honor."

  "I give you my honor to marry her, if I live."

  "You take a load off me; may Heaven reward you. In one hour those poorwomen, whose support I had promised to be, will lose their protector;but I give them another in you. We shall not leave that family in tears,Rose in shame, and your child without a name."

  Dujardin stared at the speaker. What new and devilish deception wasthis?

  "My child!" he faltered. "What child?"

  "Ah," said Raynal, "what a fool I was! That is the first thing I oughtto have told you. Poor little fellow! I surprised him in his cradle; hismother and Josephine were rocking him, and singing over him. Oh! it wasa scene, I can tell you. My poor wife had been ill for some time, andwas so weakened by it, that I frightened her into a fit, stealing amarch on her that way. She fainted away. Perhaps it is as well she did;for I--I did not know what to think; it looked ugly; but while she layat our feet insensible, I forced the truth from Rose; she owned the boywas hers."

  While Raynal told him this strange story, Camille turned hot and cold.First came a thrill of glowing joy; he had some clew to all this: he wasa father; that child was Josephine's and his; the next moment he frozewithin. So Josephine had not only gulled her husband, but him, too; shehad refused him the sad consolation of knowing he had a child. Cruelty,calculation, and baseness unexampled! Here was a creature who couldsacrifice anything and anybody to her comfort, to the peace and sordidsmoothness of her domestic life. She stood between two men--a thing.Between two truths--a double lie.

  His heart, in one moment, turned against her like a stone. Amusket-bullet through the body does not turn life to death quicker thanRaynal turned his rival's love to despair and scorn: that love whichneither wounds, absence, prison, nor even her want of constancy hadprevailed to shake.

  "Out of my bosom!" he cried--"out of it, in this world and the next!"

  He forgot, in his lofty rage, who stood beside him.

  "What?--what?" cried Raynal.

  "No matter," said Camille; "only I esteem YOU, Raynal. You are truth;you are a man, and deserve a better lot."

  "Don't say that," replied Raynal, quite misunderstanding him. "It is asoldier's end: I never desired nor hoped a better: only, of course, Ifeel sad. You are a happy fellow, to have a child and to live to see it,and her you love."

  "Oh, yes, I am very happy," replied the poor fellow, his lip quivering.

  "Watch over all those poor women, comrade, and sometimes speak to themof me. It is foolish, but we like to be remembered."

  "Yes! but do not let us speak of that. Raynal, you and I werelieutenants together; do you remember saving my life in the Arno?"

  "Yes."

  "Then promise me, if you should live, to remember not our quarrel ofto-day, nor anything; but only those early days, AND THIS AFTERNOON."

  "I do."

  "Your hand, comrade."

  "There, comrade, there."

  They wrung one another's h
ands, and turned away and hid their faces fromeach other, for their eyes were moist.

  "This won't do, comrade, I must go. I shall attack from your position.So I shall go down the line, and bring the men up. Meantime, pick meyour detachment. Give me a good spice of veterans. I shall get one wordwith you before we go out. God bless you!"

  "God bless you, Raynal!"

  The moment Raynal was gone, Camille beckoned a lieutenant to him,and ordered half the brigade to form in a strong column on both sidesDeath's Alley.

  His eye fell upon private Dard, as luck would have it. "Come here," saidhe. Dard came and saluted.

  "Have you anybody at Beaurepaire that would be sorry if you werekilled?"

  "Yes, colonel! Jacintha, that used to make your broth, colonel."

  "Take this line to Colonel Raynal. You will find him with the 12thbrigade."

  He wrote a few lines in pencil, folded them, and Dard went off withthem, little dreaming that the colonel of his brigade was taking thetrouble to save his life, because he came from Beaurepaire. ColonelDujardin then went into his tent, and closed the aperture, and took thegood book the priest had given him, and prayed humbly, and forgave allthe world.

  Then he sat down, his head in his hands, and thought of his child, andhow hard it was he must die and never see him. Then he lighted a candle,and sealed up his orders of valor, and wrote a line, begging that theymight be sent to his sister. He also sealed up his purse, and left amemorandum that the contents should be given to disabled soldiers of hisbrigade upon their being invalided.

  Then he took out Josephine's letter. "Poor coward," he said, "let me notbe unkind. See, I burn your letter, lest it should be found, and disturbthe peace you prize so highly. I, too, shall soon be at peace." Helighted the letter, and dropped it on the ground: it burned slowly away.He eyed it, despairingly. "Ay," said he, "you perish, last record of anunhappy love: and even so pass away my life; my hopes of glory, and mydreams of love; it all ends to-day: at nine and twenty."

  He put his white handkerchief to his eyes. Josephine had given it him.He cried a little.

  When he had done crying, he put his white handkerchief in his bosom, andthe whole man was transformed beyond language to express. Powder doesnot change more when it catches fire. He rose that moment and went likea flash of lightning out of the tent. The next, he came down between thelines of the strong column that stood awaiting orders in Death's Alley.

  "Attention!" cried the sergeants; "the colonel!"

  There was a dead silence, for the bare sight of that erect and inspiredfigure made the men's bosoms thrill with the certainty of great deeds tocome: the light of battle was in his eye. No longer the moody colonel,but a thunderbolt of war, red-hot, and waiting to be launched.

  "Officers, sergeants, soldiers, a word with you!"

  La Croix. Attention!

  "Do you know what passed here five minutes ago?"

  "The attack of the bastion was settled!" cried a captain.

  "It was; and who was to lead the assault? do you know that?"

  "No."

  "A colonel FROM EGYPT."

  At that there was a groan from the men.

  "With detachments from the other brigades."

  "AH!" an angry roar.

  Colonel Dujardin walked quickly down between the two lines, looking withhis fiery eye into the men's eyes on his right. Then he came back on theother side, and, as he went, he lighted those men's eyes with his own.It was a torch passing along a line of ready gas-lights.

  "The work to us!" he cried in a voice like a clarion (it fired thehearts as his eye had fired the eyes)--"The triumph to strangers! Ourfatigues and our losses have not gained the brigade the honor of goingout at those fellows that have killed so many of our comrades."

  A fierce groan broke from the men.

  "What! shall the colors of another brigade and not ours fly from thatbastion this afternoon?"

  "No! no!" in a roar like thunder.

  "Ah! you are of my mind. Attention! the attack is fixed for fiveo'clock. Suppose you and I were to carry the bastion ten minutes beforethe colonel from Egypt can bring his men upon the ground."

  At this there was a fierce burst of joy and laughter; the strangelaughter of veterans and born invincibles. Then a yell of exultingassent, accompanied by the thunder of impatient drums, and the rattle offixing bayonets.

  The colonel told off a party to the battery.

  "Level the guns at the top tier. Fire at my signal, and keep firing overour heads, till you see our colors on the place."

  He then darted to the head of the column, which instantly formed behindhim in the centre of Death's Alley.

  "The colors! No hand but mine shall hold them to-day."

  They were instantly brought him: his left hand shook them free in theafternoon sun.

  A deep murmur of joy rolled out from the old hands at the now unwontedsight. Out flashed the colonel's sword like steel lightning. He pointedto the battery.

  Bang! bang! bang! bang! went his cannon, and the smoke rolled overthe trenches. At the same moment up went the colors waving, and thecolonel's clarion voice pealed high above all:--

  "Twenty-fourth brigade--FORWARD!"

  They went so swiftly out of the trenches that they were not seen throughtheir own smoke until they had run some sixty yards. As soon as theywere seen, coming on like devils through their own smoke, two thousandmuskets were levelled at them from the Prussian line. It was not arattle of small arms--it was a crash, and the men fell fast: but in amoment they were seen to spread out like a fan, and to offer less mark,and when the fan closed again, it half encircled the bastion. It was aFrench attack: part swarmed at it in front like bees, part swept roundthe glacis and flanked it. They were seen to fall in numbers, shot downfrom the embrasures. But the living took the place of the dead: and thefight ranged evenly there. Where are the colors? Towards the rearthere. The colonel and a hundred men are fighting hand to hand withthe Prussians, who have charged out at the back doors of the bastion.Success there, and the bastion must fall--both sides know this.

  The colors disappeared. There was a groan from the French lines. Thecolors reappeared, and close under the bastion.

  And now in front the attack was so hot, that often the Prussian gunnerswere seen to jump down, driven from their posts; and the next momenta fierce hurrah from the rear told that the French had won some greatadvantage there. The fire slackening told a similar tale and presentlydown came the Prussian flag-staff. That might be an accident. A fewmoments of thirsting expectation, and up went the colors of the 24thbrigade upon the Bastion St. Andre.

  The French army raised a shout that rent the sky, and their cannon beganto play on the Prussian lines and between the bastion and the nearestfort, to prevent a recapture.

  Sudden there shot from the bastion a cubic acre of fire: it carried up aheavy mountain of red and black smoke that looked solid as marble. Therewas a heavy, sullen, tremendous explosion that snuffed out the sound ofthe cannon, and paralyzed the French and Prussian gunners' hands, andchecked the very beating of their hearts. Thirty thousand pounds ofgunpowder were in that awful explosion. War itself held its breath,and both armies, like peaceable spectators, gazed wonder-struck,terror-struck. Great hell seemed to burst through the earth's crust,and to be rushing at heaven. Huge stones, cannons, corpses, and limbs ofsoldiers, were seen driven or falling through the smoke. Some of theselast came quite clear of the ruins, ay, into the French and Prussianlines, that even the veterans put their hands to their eyes. Raynal feltsomething patter on him from the sky--it was blood--a comrade's perhaps.

  The smoke cleared. Where, a moment before, the great bastion stood andfought, was a monstrous pile of blackened, bloody stones and timbers,with dismounted cannon sticking up here and there.

  And, rent and crushed to atoms beneath the smoking mass, lay the relicsof the gallant brigade, and their victorious colors.