The Adventures of Gerard

  VII. How the Brigadier Bore Himself at Waterloo

  I. THE STORY OF THE FOREST INN

  Of all the great battles in which I had the honour of drawing my swordfor the Emperor and for France there was not one which was lost. AtWaterloo, although, in a sense, I was present, I was unable to fight,and the enemy was victorious. It is not for me to say that there is aconnection between these two things. You know me too well, my friends,to imagine that I would make such a claim. But it gives matter forthought, and some have drawn flattering conclusions from it.

  After all, it was only a matter of breaking a few English squaresand the day would have been our own. If the Hussars of Conflans, withEtienne Gerard to lead them, could not do this, then the best judges aremistaken.

  But let that pass. The Fates had ordained that I should hold my hand andthat the Empire should fall. But they had also ordained that this day ofgloom and sorrow should bring such honour to me as had never come when Iswept on the wings of victory from Boulogne to Vienna.

  Never had I burned so brilliantly as at that supreme moment when thedarkness fell upon all around me. You are aware that I was faithful tothe Emperor in his adversity, and that I refused to sell my sword and myhonour to the Bourbons. Never again was I to feel my war horse betweenmy knees, never again to hear the kettledrums and silver trumpets behindme as I rode in front of my little rascals. But it comforts my heart,my friends, and it brings the tears to my eyes, to think how great I wasupon that last day of my soldier life, and to remember that of all theremarkable exploits which have won me the love of so many beautifulwomen, and the respect of so many noble men, there was none which, insplendour, in audacity, and in the great end which was attained, couldcompare with my famous ride upon the night of June 18th, 1815. I amaware that the story is often told at mess-tables and in barrack-rooms,so that there are few in the army who have not heard it, but modesty hassealed my lips, until now, my friends, in the privacy of these intimategatherings, I am inclined to lay the true facts before you.

  In the first place, there is one thing which I can assure you. In allhis career Napoleon never had so splendid an army as that with whichhe took the field for that campaign. In 1813 France was exhausted. Forevery veteran there were five children--Marie Louises, as we calledthem; for the Empress had busied herself in raising levies while theEmperor took the field. But it was very different in 1815. The prisonershad all come back--the men from the snows of Russia, the men from thedungeons of Spain, the men from the hulks in England.

  These were the dangerous men, veterans of twenty battles, longing fortheir old trade, and with hearts filled with hatred and revenge. Theranks were full of soldiers who wore two and three chevrons, everychevron meaning five years' service. And the spirit of these men wasterrible. They were raging, furious, fanatical, adoring the Emperor asa Mameluke does his prophet, ready to fall upon their own bayonets iftheir blood could serve him. If you had seen these fierce old veteransgoing into battle, with their flushed faces, their savage eyes, theirfurious yells, you would wonder that anything could stand against them.So high was the spirit of France at that time that every other spiritwould have quailed before it; but these people, these English, hadneither spirit nor soul, but only solid, immovable beef, against whichwe broke ourselves in vain. That was it, my friends! On the one side,poetry, gallantry, self-sacrifice--all that is beautiful and heroic.On the other side, beef. Our hopes, our ideals, our dreams--all wereshattered on that terrible beef of Old England.

  You have read how the Emperor gathered his forces, and then how he andI, with a hundred and thirty thousand veterans, hurried to the northernfrontier and fell upon the Prussians and the English. On the 16th ofJune, Ney held the English in play at Quatre-Bras while we beat thePrussians at Ligny. It is not for me to say how far I contributed tothat victory, but it is well known that the Hussars of Conflans coveredthemselves with glory. They fought well, these Prussians, and eightthousand of them were left upon the field. The Emperor thought that hehad done with them, as he sent Marshal Grouchy with thirty-two thousandmen to follow them up and to prevent their interfering with his plans.Then with nearly eighty thousand men, he turned upon these "Goddam"Englishmen. How much we had to avenge upon them, we Frenchmen--theguineas of Pitt, the hulks of Portsmouth, the invasion of Wellington,the perfidious victories of Nelson! At last the day of punishment seemedto have arisen.

  Wellington had with him sixty-seven thousand men, but many of them wereknown to be Dutch and Belgian, who had no great desire to fight againstus. Of good troops he had not fifty thousand. Finding himself inthe presence of the Emperor in person with eighty thousand men, thisEnglishman was so paralysed with fear that he could neither move himselfnor his army. You have seen the rabbit when the snake approaches. Sostood the English upon the ridge of Waterloo. The night before, theEmperor, who had lost an aide-de-camp at Ligny, ordered me to join hisstaff, and I had left my Hussars to the charge of Major Victor. I knownot which of us was the most grieved, they or I, that I should becalled away upon the eve of battle, but an order is an order, and a goodsoldier can but shrug his shoulders and obey. With the Emperor I rodeacross the front of the enemy's position on the morning of the 18th, helooking at them through his glass and planning which was the shortestway to destroy them. Soult was at his elbow, and Ney and Foy and otherswho had fought the English in Portugal and Spain. "Have a care, Sire,"said Soult. "The English infantry is very solid."

  "You think them good soldiers because they have beaten you," said theEmperor, and we younger men turned away our faces and smiled. But Neyand Foy were grave and serious. All the time the English line, chequeredwith red and blue and dotted with batteries, was drawn up silent andwatchful within a long musket-shot of us. On the other side of theshallow valley our own people, having finished their soup, wereassembling for the battle. It had rained very heavily, but at thismoment the sun shone out and beat upon the French army, turning ourbrigades of cavalry into so many dazzling rivers of steel, and twinklingand sparkling on the innumerable bayonets of the infantry. At the sightof that splendid army, and the beauty and majesty of its appearance, Icould contain myself no longer, but, rising in my stirrups, I waved mybusby and cried, "Vive l'Empereur!" a shout which growled and roaredand clattered from one end of the line to the other, while the horsemenwaved their swords and the footmen held up their shakos upon theirbayonets. The English remained petrified upon their ridge. They knewthat their hour had come.

  And so it would have come if at that moment the word had been given andthe whole army had been permitted to advance. We had but to fall uponthem and to sweep them from the face of the earth. To put aside allquestion of courage, we were the more numerous, the older soldiers, andthe better led. But the Emperor desired to do all things in order,and he waited until the ground should be drier and harder, so that hisartillery could manoeuvre. So three hours were wasted, and it was eleveno'clock before we saw Jerome Buonaparte's columns advance upon our leftand heard the crash of the guns which told that the battle had begun.The loss of those three hours was our destruction. The attack uponthe left was directed upon a farm-house which was held by the EnglishGuards, and we heard the three loud shouts of apprehension which thedefenders were compelled to utter. They were still holding out, andD'Erlon's corps was advancing upon the right to engage another portionof the English line, when our attention was called away from the battlebeneath our noses to a distant portion of the field of action.

  The Emperor had been looking through his glass to the extreme left ofthe English line, and now he turned suddenly to the Duke of Dalmatia, orSoult, as we soldiers preferred to call him.

  "What is it, Marshal?" said he.

  We all followed the direction of his gaze, some raising our glasses,some shading our eyes. There was a thick wood over yonder, then a long,bare slope, and another wood beyond. Over this bare strip between thetwo woods there lay something dark, like the shadow of a moving cloud.

  "I think that they are cattle, Sire," said Soult.

  At
that instant there came a quick twinkle from amid the dark shadow.

  "It is Grouchy," said the Emperor, and he lowered his glass. "They aredoubly lost, these English. I hold them in the hollow of my hand. Theycannot escape me."

  He looked round, and his eyes fell upon me.

  "Ah! here is the prince of messengers," said he. "Are you well mounted,Colonel Gerard?"

  I was riding my little Violette, the pride of the brigade.

  I said so.

  "Then ride hard to Marshal Grouchy, whose troops you see over yonder.Tell him that he is to fall upon the left flank and rear of the Englishwhile I attack them in front. Together we should crush them and not aman escape."

  I saluted and rode off without a word, my heart dancing with joy thatsuch a mission should be mine. I looked at that long, solid line of redand blue looming through the smoke of the guns, and I shook my fist atit as I went. "We shall crush them and not a man escape."

  They were the Emperor's words, and it was I, Etienne Gerard, who was toturn them into deeds. I burned to reach the Marshal, and for an instantI thought of riding through the English left wing, as being the shortestcut. I have done bolder deeds and come out safely, but I reflected thatif things went badly with me and I was taken or shot the message wouldbe lost and the plans of the Emperor miscarry. I passed in front of thecavalry, therefore, past the Chasseurs, the Lancers of the Guard, theCarabineers, the Horse Grenadiers, and, lastly, my own little rascals,who followed me wistfully with their eyes. Beyond the cavalry the OldGuard was standing, twelve regiments of them, all veterans of manybattles, sombre and severe, in long blue overcoats and high bearskinsfrom which the plumes had been removed. Each bore within the goatskinknapsack upon his back the blue and white parade uniform which theywould use for their entry into Brussels next day. As I rode past them Ireflected that these men had never been beaten, and as I looked attheir weather-beaten faces and their stern and silent bearing, I said tomyself that they never would be beaten. Great heavens, how little couldI foresee what a few more hours would bring!

  On the right of the Old Guard were the Young Guard and the 6th Corps ofLobau, and then I passed Jacquinot's Lancers and Marbot's Hussars, whoheld the extreme flank of the line. All these troops knew nothing of thecorps which was coming toward them through the wood, and their attentionwas taken up in watching the battle which raged upon their left. Morethan a hundred guns were thundering from each side, and the din was sogreat that of all the battles which I have fought I cannot recall morethan half-a-dozen which were as noisy. I looked back over my shoulder,and there were two brigades of Cuirassiers, English and French, pouringdown the hill together, with the sword-blades playing over them likesummer lightning. How I longed to turn Violette, and to lead my Hussarsinto the thick of it! What a picture! Etienne Gerard with his back tothe battle, and a fine cavalry action raging behind him.

  But duty is duty, so I rode past Marbot's vedettes and on in thedirection of the wood, passing the village of Frishermont upon my left.

  In front of me lay the great wood, called the Wood of Paris, consistingmostly of oak trees, with a few narrow paths leading through it. Ihalted and listened when I reached it, but out of its gloomy depthsthere came no blare of trumpet, no murmur of wheels, no tramp of horsesto mark the advance of that great column which, with my own eyes, I hadseen streaming toward it. The battle roared behind me, but in front allwas as silent as that grave in which so many brave men would shortlysleep. The sunlight was cut off by the arches of leaves above my head,and a heavy damp smell rose from the sodden ground. For several miles Igalloped at such a pace as few riders would care to go with roots belowand branches above. Then, at last, for the first time I caught a glimpseof Grouchy's advance guard. Scattered parties of Hussars passed me oneither side, but some distance off, among the trees. I heard the beatingof a drum far away, and the low, dull murmur which an army makes uponthe march. Any moment I might come upon the staff and deliver my messageto Grouchy in person, for I knew well that on such a march a Marshal ofFrance would certainly ride with the van of his army.

  Suddenly the trees thinned in front of me, and I understood with delightthat I was coming to the end of the wood, whence I could see the armyand find the Marshal.

  Where the track comes out from amid the trees there is a small cabaret,where wood-cutters and waggoners drink their wine. Outside the door ofthis I reined up my horse for an instant while I took in the scene whichwas before me. Some few miles away I saw a second great forest, that ofSt. Lambert, out of which the Emperor had seen the troops advancing. Itwas easy to see, however, why there had been so long a delay in theirleaving one wood and reaching the other, because between the two ran thedeep defile of the Lasnes, which had to be crossed. Sure enough, a longcolumn of troops--horse, foot, and guns--was streaming down one side ofit and swarming up the other, while the advance guard was already amongthe trees on either side of me. A battery of Horse Artillery was comingalong the road, and I was about to gallop up to it and ask the officerin command if he could tell me where I should find the Marshal, whensuddenly I observed that, though the gunners were dressed in blue,they had not the dolman trimmed with red brandenburgs as our ownhorse-gunners wear it. Amazed at the sight, I was looking at thesesoldiers to left and right when a hand touched my thigh, and there wasthe landlord, who had rushed from his inn.

  "Madman!" he cried, "why are you here? What are you doing?"

  "I am seeking Marshal Grouchy."

  "You are in the heart of the Prussian army. Turn and fly!"

  "Impossible; this is Grouchy's corps."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because the Emperor has said it."

  "Then the Emperor has made a terrible mistake! I tell you that a patrolof Silesian Hussars has this instant left me. Did you not see them inthe wood?"

  "I saw Hussars."

  "They are the enemy."

  "Where is Grouchy?"

  "He is behind. They have passed him."

  "Then how can I go back? If I go forward I may see him yet. I must obeymy orders and find him whereever he is."

  The man reflected for an instant.

  "Quick! quick!" he cried, seizing my bridle. "Do what I say and you mayyet escape. They have not observed you yet. Come with me and I will hideyou until they pass."

  Behind his house there was a low stable, and into this he thrustViolette. Then he half led and half dragged me into the kitchen of theinn. It was a bare, brick-floored room. A stout, red-faced woman wascooking cutlets at the fire.

  "What's the matter now?" she asked, looking with a frown from me to theinnkeeper. "Who is this you have brought in?"

  "It is a French officer, Marie. We cannot let the Prussians take him."

  "Why not?"

  "Why not? Sacred name of a dog, was I not myself a soldier of Napoleon?Did I not win a musket of honour among the Velites of the Guard? ShallI see a comrade taken before my eyes? Marie, we must save him." But thelady looked at me with most unfriendly eyes.

  "Pierre Charras," she said, "you will not rest until you have your houseburned over your head. Do you not understand, you blockhead, that if youfought for Napoleon it was because Napoleon ruled Belgium? He does so nolonger. The Prussians are our allies and this is our enemy. I will haveno Frenchman in this house. Give him up!"

  The innkeeper scratched his head and looked at me in despair, but it wasvery evident to me that it was neither for France nor for Belgium thatthis woman cared, but that it was the safety of her own house that wasnearest her heart.

  "Madame," said I, with all the dignity and assurance I could command,"the Emperor is defeating the English, and the French army will be herebefore evening. If you have used me well you will be rewarded, and ifyou have denounced me you will be punished and your house will certainlybe burned by the provost-martial."

  She was shaken by this, and I hastened to complete my victory by othermethods.

  "Surely," said I, "it is impossible that anyone so beautiful can also behard-hearted? You will not ref
use me the refuge which I need."

  She looked at my whiskers and I saw that she was softened. I took herhand, and in two minutes we were on such terms that her husband sworeroundly that he would give me up himself if I pressed the matterfarther.

  "Besides, the road is full of Prussians," he cried.

  "Quick! quick! into the loft!"

  "Quick! quick! into the loft!" echoed his wife, and together theyhurried me toward a ladder which led to a trap-door in the ceiling.There was loud knocking at the door, so you can think that it was notlong before my spurs went twinkling through the hole and the board wasdropped behind me. An instant later I heard the voices of the Germans inthe rooms below me.

  The place in which I found myself was a single long attic, the ceilingof which was formed by the roof of the house. It ran over the whole ofone side of the inn, and through the cracks in the flooring I couldlook down either upon the kitchen, the sitting-room, or the bar at mypleasure. There were no windows, but the place was in the last stage ofdisrepair, and several missing slates upon the roof gave me light andthe means of observation.

  The place was heaped with lumber-fodder at one end and a huge pile ofempty bottles at the other. There was no door or window save the holethrough which I had come up.

  I sat upon the heap of hay for a few minutes to steady myself and tothink out my plans. It was very serious that the Prussians should arriveupon the field of battle earlier than our reserves, but there appearedto be only one corps of them, and a corps more or less makes littledifference to such a man as the Emperor. He could afford to give theEnglish all this and beat them still.

  The best way in which I could serve him, since Grouchy was behind, wasto wait here until they were past, and then to resume my journey, to seethe Marshal, and to give him his orders. If he advanced upon the rearof the English instead of following the Prussians all would be well. Thefate of France depended upon my judgment and my nerve. It was not thefirst time, my friends, as you are well aware, and you know the reasonsthat I had to trust that neither nerve nor judgment would ever fail me.Certainly, the Emperor had chosen the right man for his mission. "Theprince of messengers" he had called me. I would earn my title.

  It was clear that I could do nothing until the Prussians had passed, soI spent my time in observing them. I have no love for these people, butI am compelled to say that they kept excellent discipline, for not a manof them entered the inn, though their lips were caked with dust and theywere ready to drop with fatigue. Those who had knocked at the door werebearing an insensible comrade, and having left him they returned at onceto the ranks. Several others were carried in in the same fashion andlaid in the kitchen, while a young surgeon, little more than a boy,remained behind in charge of them.

  Having observed them through the cracks in the floor, I next turned myattention to the holes in the roof, from which I had an excellent viewof all that was passing outside. The Prussian corps was still streamingpast. It was easy to see that they had made a terrible march and hadlittle food, for the faces of the men were ghastly, and they wereplastered from head to foot with mud from their falls upon the foul andslippery roads. Yet, spent as they were, their spirit was excellent, andthey pushed and hauled at the gun-carriages when the wheels sank up tothe axles in the mire, and the weary horses were floundering knee-deepunable to draw them through.

  The officers rode up and down the column encouraging the more activewith words of praise, and the laggards with blows from the flat of theirswords. All the time from over the wood in front of them there came thetremendous roar of the battle, as if all the rivers on earth had unitedin one gigantic cataract, booming and crashing in a mighty fall. Likethe spray of the cataract was the long veil of smoke which rose highover the trees.

  The officers pointed to it with their swords, and with hoarse cries fromtheir parched lips the mud-stained men pushed onward to the battle. Foran hour I watched them pass, and I reflected that their vanguard musthave come into touch with Marbot's vedettes and that the Emperor knewalready of their coming. "You are going very fast up the road, myfriends, but you will come down it a great deal faster," said I tomyself, and I consoled myself with the thought.

  But an adventure came to break the monotony of this long wait. I wasseated beside my loophole and congratulating myself that the corps wasnearly past, and that the road would soon be clear for my journey, whensuddenly I heard a loud altercation break out in French in the kitchen.

  "You shall not go!" cried a woman's voice.

  "I tell you that I will!" said a man's, and there was a sound ofscuffling.

  In an instant I had my eye to the crack in the floor.

  There was my stout lady, like a faithful watch-dog, at the bottom ofthe ladder, while the young German surgeon, white with anger, wasendeavouring to come up it.

  Several of the German soldiers who had recovered from their prostrationwere sitting about on the kitchen floor and watching the quarrel withstolid, but attentive, faces.

  The landlord was nowhere to be seen.

  "There is no liquor there," said the woman.

  "I do not want liquor; I want hay or straw for these men to lie upon.Why should they lie on the bricks when there is straw overhead?"

  "There is no straw."

  "What is up there?"

  "Empty bottles."

  "Nothing else?"

  "No."

  For a moment it looked as if the surgeon would abandon his intention,but one of the soldiers pointed up to the ceiling. I gathered from whatI could understand of his words that he could see the straw stickingout between the planks. In vain the woman protested. Two of the soldierswere able to get upon their feet and to drag her aside, while the youngsurgeon ran up the ladder, pushed open the trap-door, and climbed intothe loft.

  As he swung the door back I slipped behind it, but as luck would haveit he shut it again behind him, and there we were left standing face toface.

  Never have I seen a more astonished young man.

  "A French officer!" he gasped.

  "Hush!" said I, "hush! Not a word above a whisper."

  I had drawn my sword.

  "I am not a combatant," he said; "I am a doctor. Why do you threaten mewith your sword? I am not armed."

  "I do not wish to hurt you, but I must protect myself. I am in hidinghere."

  "A spy!"

  "A spy does not wear such a uniform as this, nor do you find spies onthe staff of an army. I rode by mistake into the heart of this Prussiancorps, and I concealed myself here in the hope of escaping when they arepast. I will not hurt you if you do not hurt me, but if you do not swearthat you will be silent as to my presence you will never go down alivefrom this attic."

  "You can put up your sword, sir," said the surgeon, and I saw a friendlytwinkle in his eyes. "I am a Pole by birth, and I have no ill-feeling toyou or your people. I will do my best for my patients, but I will do nomore. Capturing Hussars is not one of the duties of a surgeon. With yourpermission I will now descend with this truss of hay to make a couch forthese poor fellows below."

  I had intended to exact an oath from him, but it is my experience thatif a man will not speak the truth he will not swear the truth, so I saidno more. The surgeon opened the trap-door, threw out enough hay for hispurpose, and then descended the ladder, letting down the door behindhim. I watched him anxiously when he rejoined his patients, and so didmy good friend the landlady, but he said nothing and busied himself withthe needs of his soldiers.

  By this time I was sure that the last of the army corps was past, and Iwent to my loophole confident that I should find the coast clear, save,perhaps, for a few stragglers, whom I could disregard. The firstcorps was indeed past, and I could see the last files of the infantrydisappearing into the wood; but you can imagine my disappointment whenout of the Forest of St. Lambert I saw a second corps emerging, asnumerous as the first.

  There could be no doubt that the whole Prussian army, which we thoughtwe had destroyed at Ligny, was about to throw itself upon our right wing
while Marshal Grouchy had been coaxed away upon some fool's errand.

  The roar of guns, much nearer than before, told me that the Prussianbatteries which had passed me were already in action. Imagine myterrible position! Hour after hour was passing; the sun was sinkingtoward the west.

  And yet this cursed inn, in which I lay hid, was like a little islandamid a rushing stream of furious Prussians.

  It was all important that I should reach Marshal Grouchy, and yet Icould not show my nose without being made prisoner. You can think how Icursed and tore my hair. How little do we know what is in store for us!

  Even while I raged against my ill-fortune, that same fortune wasreserving me for a far higher task than to carry a message to Grouchy--atask which could not have been mine had I not been held tight in thatlittle inn on the edge of the Forest of Paris.

  Two Prussian corps had passed and a third was coming up, when I hearda great fuss and the sound of several voices in the sitting-room. Byaltering my position I was able to look down and see what was going on.

  Two Prussian generals were beneath me, their heads bent over a map whichlay upon the table. Several aides-de-camp and staff officers stood roundin silence. Of the two generals, one was a fierce old man, white-hairedand wrinkled, with a ragged, grizzled moustache and a voice like thebark of a hound. The other was younger, but long-faced and solemn. Hemeasured distances upon the map with the air of a student, while hiscompanion stamped and fumed and cursed like a corporal of Hussars. Itwas strange to see the old man so fiery and the young one so reserved. Icould not understand all that they said, but I was very sure about theirgeneral meaning.

  "I tell you we must push on and ever on!" cried the old fellow, with afurious German oath. "I promised Wellington that I would be there withthe whole army even if I had to be strapped to my horse. Bulow's corpsis in action, and Ziethen's shall support it with every man and gun.Forward, Gneisenau, forward!"

  The other shook his head.

  "You must remember, your Excellency, that if the English are beaten theywill make for the coast. What will your position be then, with Grouchybetween you and the Rhine?"

  "We shall beat them, Gneisenau; the Duke and I will grind them to powderbetween us. Push on, I say! The whole war will be ended in one blow.Bring Pirsch up, and we can throw sixty thousand men into the scalewhile Thielmann holds Grouchy beyond Wavre."

  Gneisenau shrugged his shoulders, but at that instant an orderlyappeared at the door.

  "An aide-de-camp from the Duke of Wellington," said he.

  "Ha, ha!" cried the old man; "let us hear what he has to say!"

  An English officer, with mud and blood all over his scarlet jacket,staggered into the room. A crimson-stained handkerchief was knottedround his arm, and he held the table to keep himself from falling.

  "My message is to Marshal Blucher," said he;

  "I am Marshal Blucher. Go on! go on!" cried the impatient old man.

  "The Duke bade me to tell you, sir, that the British Army can hold itsown and that he has no fears for the result. The French cavalry has beendestroyed, two of their divisions of infantry have ceased to exist,and only the Guard is in reserve. If you give us a vigorous support thedefeat will be changed to absolute rout and--" His knees gave way underhim and he fell in a heap upon the floor.

  "Enough! enough!" cried Blucher. "Gneisenau, send an aide-de-camp toWellington and tell him to rely upon me to the full. Come on, gentlemen,we have our work to do!" He bustled eagerly out of the room with allhis staff clanking behind him, while two orderlies carried the Englishmessenger to the care of the surgeon.

  Gneisenau, the Chief of the Staff, had lingered behind for an instant,and he laid his hand upon one of the aides-de-camp. The fellow hadattracted my attention, for I have always a quick eye for a fine man.He was tall and slender, the very model of a horseman; indeed, there wassomething in his appearance which made it not unlike my own. His facewas dark and as keen as that of a hawk, with fierce black eyes underthick, shaggy brows, and a moustache which would have put him in thecrack squadron of my Hussars. He wore a green coat with white facings,and a horse-hair helmet--a Dragoon, as I conjectured, and as dashing acavalier as one would wish to have at the end of one's sword-point.

  "A word with you, Count Stein," said Gneisenau. "If the enemy arerouted, but if the Emperor escapes, he will rally another army, and allwill have to be done again. But if we can get the Emperor, then the waris indeed ended. It is worth a great effort and a great risk for such anobject as that."

  The young Dragoon said nothing, but he listened attentively.

  "Suppose the Duke of Wellington's words should prove to be correct,and the French army should be driven in utter rout from the field, theEmperor will certainly take the road back through Genappe and Charleroias being the shortest to the frontier. We can imagine that his horseswill be fleet, and that the fugitives will make way for him. Our cavalrywill follow the rear of the beaten army, but the Emperor will be faraway at the front of the throng."

  The young Dragoon inclined his head.

  "To you, Count Stein, I commit the Emperor. If you take him your namewill live in history. You have the reputation of being the hardest riderin our army. Do you choose such comrades as you may select--ten or adozen should be enough. You are not to engage in the battle, nor are youto follow the general pursuit, but you are to ride clear of the crowd,reserving your energies for a nobler end. Do you understand me?"

  Again the Dragoon inclined his head. This silence impressed me. I feltthat he was indeed a dangerous man.

  "Then I leave the details in your own hands. Strike at no one except thehighest. You cannot mistake the Imperial carriage, nor can you fail torecognise the figure of the Emperor. Now I must follow the Marshal.Adieu! If ever I see you again I trust that it will be to congratulateyou upon a deed which will ring through Europe."

  The Dragoon saluted and Gneisenau hurried from the room. The youngofficer stood in deep thought for a few moments. Then he followed theChief of the Staff.

  I looked with curiosity from my loophole to see what his next proceedingwould be. His horse, a fine, strong chestnut with two white stockings,was fastened to the rail of the inn. He sprang into the saddle, and,riding to intercept a column of cavalry which was passing, he spoke toan officer at the head of the leading regiment.

  Presently after some talk I saw two Hussars--it was a Hussarregiment--drop out of the ranks and take up their position beside CountStein. The next regiment was also stopped, and two Lancers were added tohis escort. The next furnished him with two Dragoons and the next withtwo Cuirassiers. Then he drew his little group of horsemen aside and hegathered them round him, explaining to them what they had to do. Finallythe nine soldiers rode off together and disappeared into the Wood ofParis.

  I need not tell you, my friends, what all this portended.

  Indeed, he had acted exactly as I should have done in his place. Fromeach colonel he had demanded the two best horsemen in the regiment,and so he had assembled a band who might expect to catch whatever theyshould follow. Heaven help the Emperor if, without an escort, he shouldfind them on his track!

  And I, dear friends--imagine the fever, the ferment, the madness of mymind! All thought of Grouchy had passed away. No guns were to be heardto the east. He could not be near. If he should come up he would not nowbe in time to alter the event of the day. The sun was already low in thesky and there could not be more than two or three hours of daylight.My mission might be dismissed as useless. But here was another mission,more pressing, more immediate, a mission which meant the safety, andperhaps the life, of the Emperor. At all costs, through every danger, Imust get back to his side.

  But how was I to do it? The whole Prussian army was now between me andthe French lines. They blocked every road, but they could not block thepath of duty when Etienne Gerard sees it lie before him. I could notwait longer. I must be gone.

  There was but the one opening to the loft, and so it was only down theladder that I could descend. I looked
into the kitchen and I found thatthe young surgeon was still there. In a chair sat the wounded Englishaide-de-camp, and on the straw lay two Prussian soldiers in the laststage of exhaustion. The others had all recovered and been sent on.These were my enemies, and I must pass through them in order to gainmy horse. From the surgeon I had nothing to fear; the Englishman waswounded, and his sword stood with his cloak in a corner; the two Germanswere half insensible, and their muskets were not beside them. Whatcould be simpler? I opened the trap-door, slipped down the ladder, andappeared in the midst of them, my sword drawn in my hand.

  What a picture of surprise! The surgeon, of course, knew all, but to theEnglishman and the two Germans it must have seemed that the god of warin person had descended from the skies. With my appearance, with myfigure, with my silver and grey uniform, and with that gleaming sword inmy hand, I must indeed have been a sight worth seeing. The two Germanslay petrified with staring eyes. The English officer half rose, but satdown again from weakness, his mouth open and his hand on the back of hischair.

  "What the deuce!" he kept on repeating, "what the deuce!"

  "Pray do not move," said I; "I will hurt no one, but woe to the man wholays hands upon me to stop me. You have nothing to fear if you leave mealone, and nothing to hope if you try to hinder me. I am Colonel EtienneGerard, of the Hussars of Conflans."

  "The deuce!" said the Englishman. "You are the man that killed the fox."A terrible scowl had darkened his face. The jealousy of sportsmen is abase passion. He hated me, this Englishman, because I had been beforehim in transfixing the animal. How different are our natures! Had Iseen him do such a deed I would have embraced him with cries of joy. Butthere was no time for argument.

  "I regret it, sir," said I; "but you have a cloak here and I must takeit."

  He tried to rise from his chair and reach his sword, but I got betweenhim and the corner where it lay.

  "If there is anything in the pockets----"

  "A case," said he.

  "I would not rob you," said I; and raising the cloak I took from thepockets a silver flask, a square wooden case and a field-glass. Allthese I handed to him. The wretch opened the case, took out a pistol,and pointed it straight at my head.

  "Now, my fine fellow," said he, "put down your sword and give yourselfup."

  I was so astounded at this infamous action that I stood petrified beforehim. I tried to speak to him of honour and gratitude, but I saw his eyesfix and harden over the pistol.

  "Enough talk!" said he. "Drop it!"

  Could I endure such a humiliation? Death were better than to be disarmedin such a fashion. The word

  "Fire!" was on my lips when in an instant the English man vanishedfrom before my face, and in his place was a great pile of hay, with ared-coated arm and two Hessian boots waving and kicking in the heart ofit. Oh, the gallant landlady! It was my whiskers that had saved me.

  "Fly, soldier, fly!" she cried, and she heaped fresh trusses of hay fromthe floor on to the struggling Englishman. In an instant I was out inthe courtyard, had led Violette from her stable, and was on her back.A pistol bullet whizzed past my shoulder from the window, and I saw afurious face looking out at me. I smiled my contempt and spurred outinto the road. The last of the Prussians had passed, and both my roadand my duty lay clear before me. If France won, all well. If Francelost, then on me and my little mare depended that which was more thanvictory or defeat--the safety and the life of the Emperor. "On, Etienne,on!" I cried.

  "Of all your noble exploits, the greatest, even if it be the last, liesnow before you!"

  II. THE STORY OF THE NINE PRUSSIAN HORSEMEN

  I told you when last we met, my friends, of the important mission fromthe Emperor to Marshal Grouchy, which failed through no fault of my own,and I described to you how during a long afternoon I was shut up in theattic of a country inn, and was prevented from coming out because thePrussians were all around me. You will remember also how I overheard theChief of the Prussian Staff give his instructions to Count Stein, andso learned the dangerous plan which was on foot to kill or capturethe Emperor in the event of a French defeat. At first I could not havebelieved in such a thing, but since the guns had thundered all day, andsince the sound had made no advance in my direction, it was evident thatthe English had at least held their own and beaten off all our attacks.

  I have said that it was a fight that day between the soul of France andthe beef of England, but it must be confessed that we found the beefwas very tough. It was clear that if the Emperor could not defeat theEnglish when alone, then it might, indeed, go hard with him now thatsixty thousand of these cursed Prussians were swarming on his flank. Inany case, with this secret in my possession, my place was by his side.

  I had made my way out of the inn in the dashing manner which I havedescribed to you when last we met, and I left the English aide-de-campshaking his foolish fist out of the window. I could not but laugh as Ilooked back at him, for his angry red face was framed and frilled withhay. Once out on the road I stood erect in my stirrups, and I put on thehandsome black riding-coat, lined with red, which had belonged to him.It fell to the top of my high boots, and covered my tell-tale uniformcompletely. As to my busby, there are many such in the German service,and there was no reason why it should attract attention. So long as noone spoke to me there was no reason why I should not ride through thewhole of the Prussian army; but though I understood German, for I hadmany friends among the German ladies during the pleasant years that Ifought all over that country, still I spoke it with a pretty Parisianaccent which could not be confounded with their rough, unmusical speech.I knew that this quality of my accent would attract attention, butI could only hope and pray that I would be permitted to go my way insilence.

  The Forest of Paris was so large that it was useless to think of goinground it, and so I took my courage in both hands and galloped on downthe road in the track of the Prussian army. It was not hard to trace it,for it was rutted two feet deep by the gun-wheels and the caissons. SoonI found a fringe of wounded men, Prussians and French, on each side ofit, where Bulow's advance had come into touch with Marbot's Hussars. Oneold man with a long white beard, a surgeon, I suppose, shouted at me,and ran after me still shouting, but I never turned my head and took nonotice of him save to spur on faster. I heard his shouts long after Ihad lost sight of him among the trees.

  Presently I came up with the Prussian reserves. The infantry wereleaning on their muskets or lying exhausted on the wet ground, and theofficers stood in groups listening to the mighty roar of the battle anddiscussing the reports which came from the front. I hurried past at thetop of my speed, but one of them rushed out and stood in my path withhis hand up as a signal to me to stop. Five thousand Prussian eyes wereturned upon me. There was a moment! You turn pale, my friends, at thethought of it. Think how every hair upon me stood on end. But never forone instant did my wits or my courage desert me. "General Blucher!" Icried. Was it not my guardian angel who whispered the words in my ear?The Prussian sprang from my path, saluted, and pointed forward. They arewell disciplined, these Prussians, and who was he that he should dare tostop the officer who bore a message to the general?

  It was a talisman that would pass me out of every danger, and my heartsang within me at the thought. So elated was I that I no longer waitedto be asked, but as I rode through the army I shouted to right and left,

  "General Blucher! General Blucher!" and every man pointed me onward andcleared a path to let me pass.

  There are times when the most supreme impudence is the highest wisdom.But discretion must also be used, and I must admit that I becameindiscreet. For as I rode upon my way, ever nearer to the fighting line,a Prussian officer of Uhlans gripped my bridle and pointed to a groupof men who stood near a burning farm. "There is Marshal Blucher. Deliveryour message!" said he, and sure enough, my terrible old grey-whiskeredveteran was there within a pistol-shot, his eyes turned in my direction.

  But the good guardian angel did not desert me.

  Quick as a flash t
here came into my memory the name of the general whocommanded the advance of the Prussians.

  {illust. caption = "There is Marshal Blucher. Deliver your message!"}

  "General Bulow!" I cried. The Uhlan let go my bridle. "General Bulow!General Bulow!" I shouted, as every stride of the dear little mare tookme nearer my own people. Through the burning village of PlanchenoitI galloped, spurred my way between two columns of Prussian infantry,sprang over a hedge, cut down a Silesian Hussar who flung himself beforeme, and an instant afterward, with my coat flying open to show theuniform below, I passed through the open files of the tenth of the line,and was back in the heart of Lobau's corps once more. Outnumbered andoutflanked, they were being slowly driven in by the pressure of thePrussian advance. I galloped onward, anxious only to find myself by theEmperor's side.

  But a sight lay before me which held me fast as though I had been turnedinto some noble equestrian statue. I could not move, I could scarcebreathe, as I gazed upon it. There was a mound over which my path lay,and as I came out on the top of it I looked down the long, shallowvalley of Waterloo. I had left it with two great armies on either sideand a clear field between them. Now there were but long, ragged fringesof broken and exhausted regiments upon the two ridges, but a real armyof dead and wounded lay between. For two miles in length and half a mileacross the ground was strewed and heaped with them. But slaughter wasno new sight to me, and it was not that which held me spellbound. Itwas that up the long slope of the British position was moving a walkingforest--black, tossing, waving, unbroken. Did I not know the bearskins ofthe Guard? And did I not also know, did not my soldier's instinct tellme, that it was the last reserve of France; that the Emperor, like adesperate gamester, was staking all upon his last card? Up they wentand up--grand, solid, unbreakable, scourged with musketry, riddled withgrape, flowing onward in a black, heavy tide, which lapped over theBritish batteries. With my glass I could see the English gunners throwthemselves under their pieces or run to the rear. On rolled the crest ofthe bearskins, and then, with a crash which was swept across to myears, they met the British infantry. A minute passed, and another, andanother. My heart was in my mouth.

  They swayed back and forward; they no longer advanced; they were held.Great Heaven! was it possible that they were breaking? One black dot randown the hill, then two, then four, then ten, then a great, scattered,struggling mass, halting, breaking, halting, and at last shredding outand rushing madly downward. "The Guard is beaten! The Guard is beaten!"From all around me I heard the cry. Along the whole line the infantryturned their faces and the gunners flinched from their guns.

  "The Old Guard is beaten! The Guard retreats!" An officer with a lividface passed me yelling out these words of woe. "Save yourselves! Saveyourselves! You are betrayed!" cried another. "Save yourselves! Saveyourselves!" Men were rushing madly to the rear, blundering and jumpinglike frightened sheep. Cries and screams rose from all around me. And atthat moment, as I looked at the British position, I saw what I cannever forget. A single horseman stood out black and clear upon theridge against the last red angry glow of the setting sun. So dark, somotionless, against that grim light, he might have been the very spiritof Battle brooding over that terrible valley. As I gazed, he raised hishat high in the air, and at the signal, with a low, deep roar like abreaking wave, the whole British army flooded over their ridge and camerolling down into the valley.

  Long steel-fringed lines of red and blue, sweeping waves of cavalry,horse batteries rattling and bounding--down they came on to ourcrumbling ranks. It was over. A yell of agony, the agony of brave menwho see no hope, rose from one flank to the other, and in an instant thewhole of that noble army was swept in a wild, terror-stricken crowd fromthe field. Even now, dear friends, I cannot, as you see, speak of thatdreadful moment with a dry eye or with a steady voice.

  At first I was carried away in that wild rush, whirled off like a strawin a flooded gutter. But, suddenly, what should I see amongst the mixedregiments in front of me but a group of stern horsemen, in silver andgrey, with a broken and tattered standard held aloft in the heartof them! Not all the might of England and of Prussia could break theHussars of Conflans. But when I joined them it made my heart bleed tosee them. The major, seven captains, and five hundred men were left uponthe field. Young Captain Sabbatier was in command, and when I asked himwhere were the five missing squadrons he pointed back and answered: "Youwill find them round one of those British squares." Men and horseswere at their last gasp, caked with sweat and dirt, their black tongueshanging out from their lips; but it made me thrill with pride to see howthat shattered remnant still rode knee to knee, with every man, from theboy trumpeter to the farrier-sergeant, in his own proper place.

  Would that I could have brought them on with me as an escort for theEmperor! In the heart of the Hussars of Conflans he would be safeindeed. But the horses were too spent to trot. I left them behind mewith orders to rally upon the farm-house of St. Aunay, where we hadcamped two nights before. For my own part, I forced my horse through thethrong in search of the Emperor.

  There were things which I saw then, as I pressed through that dreadfulcrowd, which can never be banished from my mind. In evil dreams therecomes back to me the memory of that flowing stream of livid, staring,screaming faces upon which I looked down. It was a nightmare. In victoryone does not understand the horror of war. It is only in the cold chillof defeat that it is brought home to you. I remember an old Grenadier ofthe Guard lying at the side of the road with his broken leg doubled ata right angle. "Comrades, comrades, keep off my leg!" he cried, but theytripped and stumbled over him all the same. In front of me rode aLancer officer without his coat. His arm had just been taken off in theambulance. The bandages had fallen. It was horrible. Two gunners triedto drive through with their gun. A Chasseur raised his musket and shotone of them through the head. I saw a major of Cuirassiers draw his twoholster pistols and shoot first his horse and then himself. Beside theroad a man in a blue coat was raging and raving like a madman. His facewas black with powder, his clothes were torn, one epaulette was gone,the other hung dangling over his breast. Only when I came close to himdid I recognise that it was Marshal Ney. He howled at the flyingtroops and his voice was hardly human. Then he raised the stump of hissword--it was broken three inches from the hilt. "Come and see how aMarshal of France can die!" he cried. Gladly would I have gone with him,but my duty lay elsewhere.

  He did not, as you know, find the death he sought, but he met it a fewweeks later in cold blood at the hands of his enemies.

  There is an old proverb that in attack the French are more than men, indefeat they are less than women. I knew that it was true that day. Buteven in that rout I saw things which I can tell with pride. Through thefields which skirt the road moved Cambronne's three reserve battalionsof the Guard, the cream of our army.

  They walked slowly in square, their colours waving over the sombre lineof the bearskins. All round them raged the English cavalry and the blackLancers of Brunswick, wave after wave thundering up, breaking with acrash, and recoiling in ruin. When last I saw them, the English guns,six at a time, were smashing grape-shot through their ranks and theEnglish infantry were closing in upon three sides and pouring volleysinto them; but still, like a noble lion with fierce hounds clinging toits flanks, the glorious remnant of the Guard, marching slowly, halting,closing up, dressing, moved majestically from their last battle. Behindthem the Guard's battery of twelve-pounders was drawn up upon the ridge.Every gunner was in his place, but no gun fired. "Why do you not fire?"I asked the colonel as I passed. "Our powder is finished." "Then why notretire?" "Our appearance may hold them back for a little. We must givethe Emperor time to escape." Such were the soldiers of France.

  Behind this screen of brave men the others took their breath, and thenwent on in less desperate fashion. They had broken away from the road,and all over the countryside in the twilight I could see the timid,scattered, frightened crowd who ten hours before had formed the finestarmy that ever went down to battle.
I with my splendid mare was soonable to get clear of the throng, and just after I passed Genappe Iovertook the Emperor with the remains of his Staff. Soult was with himstill, and so were Drouot, Lobau, and Bertrand, with five Chasseurs ofthe Guard, their horses hardly able to move.

  The night was falling, and the Emperor's haggard face gleamed whitethrough the gloom as he turned it toward me.

  "Who is that?" he asked.

  "It is Colonel Gerard," said Soult.

  "Have you seen Marshal Grouchy?"

  "No, Sire. The Prussians were between."

  "It does not matter. Nothing matters now. Soult, I will go back."

  He tried to turn his horse, but Bertrand seized his bridle. "Ah, Sire,"said Soult, "the enemy has had good fortune enough already." They forcedhim on among them. He rode in silence with his chin upon his breast, thegreatest and the saddest of men. Far away behind us those remorselessguns were still roaring. Sometimes out of the darkness would comeshrieks and screams and the low thunder of galloping hoofs. At the soundwe would spur our horses and hasten onward through the scattered troops.At last, after riding all night in the clear moonlight, we found thatwe had left both pursued and pursuers behind. By the time we passedover the bridge at Charleroi the dawn was breaking. What a company ofspectres we looked in that cold, clear, searching light, the Emperorwith his face of wax, Soult blotched with powder, Lobau dabbled withblood! But we rode more easily now, and had ceased to glance over ourshoulders, for Waterloo was more than thirty miles behind us. One of theEmperor's carriages had been picked up at Charleroi, and we halted nowon the other side of the Sambre, and dismounted from our horses.

  You will ask me why it was that during all this time I had said nothingof that which was nearest my heart, the need for guarding the Emperor.As a fact, I had tried to speak of it both to Soult and to Lobau, buttheir minds were so overwhelmed with the disaster and so distracted bythe pressing needs of the moment that it was impossible to make themunderstand how urgent was my message. Besides, during this long flightwe had always had numbers of French fugitives beside us on the road,and, however demoralised they might be, we had nothing to fear from theattack of nine men. But now, as we stood round the Emperor's carriagein the early morning, I observed with anxiety that not a single Frenchsoldier was to be seen upon the long, white road behind us. We hadoutstripped the army. I looked round to see what means of defence wereleft to us. The horses of the Chasseurs of the Guard had broken down,and only one of them, a grey-whiskered sergeant, remained.

  There were Soult, Lobau, and Bertrand; but, for all their talents,I had rather, when it came to hard knocks, have a singlequartermaster-sergeant of Hussars at my side than the three of them puttogether. There remained the Emperor himself, the coachman, and a valetof the household who had joined us at Charleroi--eight all told; but ofthe eight only two, the Chasseur and I, were fighting soldiers who couldbe depended upon at a pinch. A chill came over me as I reflected howutterly helpless we were. At that moment I raised my eyes, and therewere the nine Prussian horsemen coming over the hill.

  On either side of the road at this point are long stretches of rollingplain, part of it yellow with corn and part of it rich grass landwatered by the Sambre. To the south of us was a low ridge, over whichwas the road to France. Along this road the little group of cavalrywas riding. So well had Count Stein obeyed his instructions that he hadstruck far to the south of us in his determination to get ahead ofthe Emperor. Now he was riding from the direction in which we weregoing--the last in which we could expect an enemy. When I caught thatfirst glimpse of them they were still half a mile away.

  "Sire!" I cried, "the Prussians!"

  They all started and stared. It was the Emperor who broke the silence.

  "Who says they are Prussians?"

  "I do, Sire--I, Etienne Gerard!"

  Unpleasant news always made the Emperor furious against the man whobroke it. He railed at me now in the rasping, croaking, Corsican voicewhich only made itself heard when he had lost his self-control.

  "You were always a buffoon," he cried. "What do you mean, you numskull,by saying that they are Prussians? How could Prussians be coming fromthe direction of France? You have lost any wits that you everpossessed."

  His words cut me like a whip, and yet we all felt toward the Emperor asan old dog does to its master.

  His kick is soon forgotten and forgiven. I would not argue or justifymyself. At the first glance I had seen the two white stockings on theforelegs of the leading horse, and I knew well that Count Stein was onits back.

  For an instant the nine horsemen had halted and surveyed us. Now theyput spurs to their horses, and with a yell of triumph they galloped downthe road. They had recognised that their prey was in their power.

  At that swift advance all doubt had vanished. "By heavens, Sire, it isindeed the Prussians!" cried Soult.

  Lobau and Bertrand ran about the road like two frightened hens. Thesergeant of Chasseurs drew his sabre with a volley of curses. Thecoachman and the valet cried and wrung their hands. Napoleon stoodwith a frozen face, one foot on the step of the carriage. And I--ah, myfriends, I was magnificent! What words can I use to do justice to my ownbearing at that supreme instant of my life? So coldly alert, so deadlycool, so clear in brain and ready in hand. He had called me a numskulland a buffoon. How quick and how noble was my revenge! When his own witsfailed him, it was Etienne Gerard who supplied the want.

  To fight was absurd; to fly was ridiculous. The Emperor was stout, andweary to death. At the best he was never a good rider. How could he flyfrom these, the picked men of an army? The best horseman in Prussia wasamong them. But I was the best horseman in France. I, and only I,could hold my own with them. If they were on my track instead of theEmperor's, all might still be well. These were the thoughts whichflashed so swiftly through my mind that in an instant I had sprung fromthe first idea to the final conclusion. Another instant carried me fromthe final conclusion to prompt and vigorous action. I rushed to the sideof the Emperor, who stood petrified, with the carriage between him andour enemies. "Your coat, Sire! your hat!" I cried. I dragged them offhim.

  Never had he been so hustled in his life. In an instant I had them onand had thrust him into the carriage. The next I had sprung on to hisfamous white Arab and had ridden clear of the group upon the road.

  You have already divined my plan; but you may well ask how could I hopeto pass myself off as the Emperor.

  My figure is as you still see it, and his was never beautiful, for hewas both short and stout. But a man's height is not remarked when he isin the saddle, and for the rest one had but to sit forward on the horseand round one's back and carry oneself like a sack of flour. I wore thelittle cocked hat and the loose grey coat with the silver star which wasknown to every child from one end of Europe to the other. Beneath me wasthe Emperor's own famous white charger. It was complete.

  Already as I rode clear the Prussians were within two hundred yards ofus. I made a gesture of terror and despair with my hands, and I sprangmy horse over the bank which lined the road. It was enough. A yell ofexultation and of furious hatred broke from the Prussians.

  It was the howl of starving wolves who scent their prey. I spurred myhorse over the meadow-land and looked back under my arm as I rode. Oh,the glorious moment when one after the other I saw eight horsemen comeover the bank at my heels! Only one had stayed behind, and I heardshouting and the sounds of a struggle. I remembered my old sergeant ofChasseurs, and I was sure that number nine would trouble us no more. Theroad was clear and the Emperor free to continue his journey.

  But now I had to think of myself. If I were overtaken the Prussianswould certainly make short work of me in their disappointment. If itwere so--if I lost my life--I should still have sold it at a gloriousprice. But I had hopes that I might shake them off. With ordinaryhorsemen upon ordinary horses I should have had no difficulty in doingso, but here both steeds and riders were of the best. It was a grandcreature that I rode, but it was weary with its long night's work,
andthe Emperor was one of those riders who do not know how to managea horse. He had little thought for them and a heavy hand upon theirmouths. On the other hand, Stein and his men had come both far and fast.The race was a fair one.

  So quick had been my impulse, and so rapidly had I acted upon it, thatI had not thought enough of my own safety. Had I done so in the firstinstance I should, of course, have ridden straight back the way we hadcome, for so I should have met our own people. But I was off the roadand had galloped a mile over the plain before this occurred to me. Thenwhen I looked back I saw that the Prussians had spread out into a longline, so as to head me off from the Charleroi road. I could not turnback, but at least I could edge toward the north. I knew that the wholeface of the country was covered with our flying troops, and that sooneror later I must come upon some of them.

  But one thing I had forgotten--the Sambre. In my excitement I never gaveit a thought until I saw it, deep and broad, gleaming in the morningsunlight. It barred my path, and the Prussians howled behind me. Igalloped to the brink, but the horse refused the plunge. I spurred him,but the bank was high and the stream deep.

  He shrank back trembling and snorting. The yells of triumph were louderevery instant. I turned and rode for my life down the river bank.It formed a loop at this part, and I must get across somehow, for myretreat was blocked. Suddenly a thrill of hope ran through me, for I sawa house on my side of the stream and another on the farther bank. Wherethere are two such houses it usually means that there is a ford betweenthem. A sloping path led to the brink and I urged my horse down it. Onhe went, the water up to the saddle, the foam flying right and left.He blundered once and I thought we were lost, but he recovered and aninstant later was clattering up the farther slope. As we came out Iheard the splash behind me as the first Prussian took the water. Therewas just the breadth of the Sambre between us.

  I rode with my head sunk between my shoulders in Napoleon's fashion, andI did not dare to look back for fear they should see my moustache. I hadturned up the collar of the grey coat so as partly to hide it. Evennow if they found out their mistake they might turn and overtake thecarriage. But when once we were on the road I could tell by the drummingof their hoofs how far distant they were, and it seemed to me that thesound grew perceptibly louder, as if they were slowly gaining upon me.We were riding now up the stony and rutted lane which led from the ford.I peeped back very cautiously from under my arm and I perceived that mydanger came from a single rider, who was far ahead of his comrades.

  He was a Hussar, a very tiny fellow, upon a big black horse, and it washis light weight which had brought him into the foremost place. It isa place of honour; but it is also a place of danger, as he was soon tolearn. I felt the holsters, but, to my horror, there were no pistols.There was a field-glass in one and the other was stuffed with papers. Mysword had been left behind with Violette.

  Had I only my own weapons and my own little mare I could have playedwith these rascals. But I was not entirely unarmed. The Emperor's ownsword hung to the saddle. It was curved and short, the hilt all crustedwith gold--a thing more fitted to glitter at a review than to serve asoldier in his deadly need. I drew it, such as it was, and I waited mychance. Every instant the clink and clatter of the hoofs grew nearer.I heard the panting of the horse, and the fellow shouted some threat atme. There was a turn in the lane, and as I rounded it I drew up my whiteArab on his haunches. As we spun round I met the Prussian Hussar face toface. He was going too fast to stop, and his only chance was to ride medown. Had he done so he might have met his own death, but he would haveinjured me or my horse past all hope of escape. But the fool flinched ashe saw me waiting and flew past me on my right. I lunged over my Arab'sneck and buried my toy sword in his side. It must have been the fineststeel and as sharp as a razor, for I hardly felt it enter, and yet hisblood was within three inches of the hilt. His horse galloped on and hekept his saddle for a hundred yards before he sank down with his face onthe mane and then dived over the side of the neck on to the road. For myown part I was already at his horse's heels. A few seconds had sufficedfor all that I have told.

  I heard the cry of rage and vengeance which rose from the Prussians asthey passed their dead comrade, and I could not but smile as I wonderedwhat they could think of the Emperor as a horseman and a swordsman. Iglanced back cautiously as before, and I saw that none of the seven menstopped. The fate of their comrade was nothing compared to the carryingout of their mission.

  They were as untiring and as remorseless as bloodhounds.

  But I had a good lead and the brave Arab was still going well. I thoughtthat I was safe. And yet it was at that very instant that the mostterrible danger befell me. The lane divided, and I took the smaller ofthe two divisions because it was the more grassy and the easier for thehorse's hoofs. Imagine my horror when, riding through a gate, I foundmyself in a square of stables and farm-buildings, with no way out savethat by which I had come! Ah, my friends, if my hair is snowy white,have I not had enough to make it so?

  To retreat was impossible. I could hear the thunder of the Prussians'hoofs in the lane. I looked round me, and Nature has blessed me withthat quick eye which is the first of gifts to any soldier, but most ofall to a leader of cavalry. Between a long, low line of stables and thefarm-house there was a pig-sty. Its front was made of bars of wood fourfeet high; the back was of stone, higher than the front. What was beyondI could not tell. The space between the front and the back was not morethan a few yards. It was a desperate venture, and yet I must take it.Every instant the beating of those hurrying hoofs was louder and louder.I put my Arab at the pig-sty. She cleared the front beautifully and camedown with her forefeet upon the sleeping pig within, slipping forwardupon her knees. I was thrown over the wall beyond, and fell upon myhands and face in a soft flower-bed. My horse was upon one side of thewall, I upon the other, and the Prussians were pouring into the yard.But I was up in an instant and had seized the bridle of the plunginghorse over the top of the wall. It was built of loose stones, and Idragged down a few of them to make a gap. As I tugged at the bridle andshouted the gallant creature rose to the leap, and an instant afterwardshe was by my side and I with my foot on the stirrup.

  An heroic idea had entered my mind as I mounted into the saddle. ThesePrussians, if they came over the pig-sty, could only come one at once,and their attack would not be formidable when they had not had time torecover from such a leap. Why should I not wait and kill them one byone as they came over? It was a glorious thought. They would learn thatEtienne Gerard was not a safe man to hunt. My hand felt for my sword,but you can imagine my feelings, my friends, when I came upon an emptyscabbard. It had been shaken out when the horse had tripped over thatinfernal pig. On what absurd trifles do our destinies hang--a pig on oneside, Etienne Gerard on the other! Could I spring over the wall and getthe sword? Impossible! The Prussians were already in the yard. I turnedmy Arab and resumed my flight.

  But for a moment it seemed to me that I was in a far worse trap thanbefore. I found myself in the garden of the farm-house, an orchard inthe centre and flower-beds all round. A high wall surrounded the wholeplace. I reflected, however, that there must be some point of entrance,since every visitor could not be expected to spring over the pig-sty. Irode round the wall. As I expected, I came upon a door with a key uponthe inner side. I dismounted, unlocked it, opened it, and there was aPrussian Lancer sitting his horse within six feet of me.

  For a moment we each stared at the other. Then I shut the door andlocked it again. A crash and a cry came from the other end of thegarden. I understood that one of my enemies had come to grief in tryingto get over the pig-sty. How could I ever get out of this cul-de-sac?It was evident that some of the party had galloped round, while some hadfollowed straight upon my tracks. Had I my sword I might have beaten offthe Lancer at the door, but to come out now was to be butchered. Andyet if I waited some of them would certainly follow me on foot over thepig-sty, and what could I do then? I must act at once or I was lost. Butit is at such moments
that my wits are most active and my actions mostprompt. Still leading my horse, I ran for a hundred yards by the sideof the wall away from the spot where the Lancer was watching. There Istopped, and with an effort I tumbled down several of the loose stonesfrom the top of the wall. The instant I had done so I hurried back tothe door. As I had expected, he thought I was making a gap for my escapeat that point, and I heard the thud of his horse's hoofs as he gallopedto cut me off. As I reached the gate I looked back, and I saw agreen-coated horseman, whom I knew to be Count Stein, clear the pig-styand gallop furiously with a shout of triumph across the garden.

  "Surrender, your Majesty, surrender!" he yelled; "we will give youquarter!" I slipped through the gate, but had no time to lock it onthe other side. Stein was at my very heels, and the Lancer had alreadyturned his horse. Springing upon my Arab's back, I was off once morewith a clear stretch of grass land before me. Stein had to dismount toopen the gate, to lead his horse through, and to mount again before hecould follow.

  It was he that I feared rather than the Lancer, whose horse wascoarse-bred and weary. I galloped hard for a mile before I ventured tolook back, and then Stein was a musket-shot from me, and the Lanceras much again, while only three of the others were in sight. My ninePrussians were coming down to more manageable numbers, and yet one wastoo much for an unarmed man.

  It had surprised me that during this long chase I had seen no fugitivesfrom the army, but I reflected that I was considerably to the west oftheir line of flight, and that I must edge more toward the east if Iwished to join them. Unless I did so it was probable that my pursuers,even if they could not overtake me themselves, would keep me in viewuntil I was headed off by some of their comrades coming from thenorth. As I looked to the eastward I saw afar off a line of dust whichstretched for miles across the country. This was certainly the main roadalong which our unhappy army was flying. But I soon had proof thatsome of our stragglers had wandered into these side tracks, for I camesuddenly upon a horse grazing at the corner of a field, and besidehim, with his back against the bank, his master, a French Cuirassier,terribly wounded and evidently on the point of death. I sprang down,seized his long, heavy sword, and rode on with it. Never shall I forgetthe poor man's face as he looked at me with his failing sight. He was anold, grey-moustached soldier, one of the real fanatics, and to him thislast vision of his Emperor was like a revelation from on high.

  Astonishment, love, pride--all shone in his pallid face. He saidsomething--I fear they were his last words--but I had no time to listen,and I galloped on my way.

  All this time I had been on the meadow-land, which was intersected inthis part by broad ditches. Some of them could not have been less thanfrom fourteen to fifteen feet, and my heart was in my mouth as I went ateach of them, for a slip would have been my ruin.

  But whoever selected the Emperor's horses had done his work well. Thecreature, save when it balked on the bank of the Sambre, never failed mefor an instant.

  We cleared everything in one stride. And yet we could not shake off!those infernal Prussians. As I left each water-course behind me I lookedback with renewed hope; but it was only to see Stein on his white-leggedchestnut flying over it as lightly as I had done myself. He was myenemy, but I honoured him for the way in which he carried himself thatday.

  Again and again I measured the distance which separated him from thenext horseman. I had the idea that I might turn and cut him down, asI had the Hussar, before his comrade could come to his help. But theothers had closed up and were not far behind. I reflected that this Steinwas probably as fine a swordsman as he was a rider, and that it mighttake me some little time to get the better of him. In that case theothers would come to his aid and I should be lost. On the whole, it waswiser to continue my flight.

  A road with poplars on either side ran across the plain from east towest. It would lead me toward that long line of dust which marked theFrench retreat. I wheeled my horse, therefore, and galloped down it. AsI rode I saw a single house in front of me upon the right, with a greatbush hung over the door to mark it as an inn. Outside there were severalpeasants, but for them I cared nothing. What frightened me was to seethe gleam of a red coat, which showed that there were British in theplace. However, I could not turn and I could not stop, so there wasnothing for it but to gallop on and to take my chance. There were notroops in sight, so these men must be stragglers or marauders, from whomI had little to fear. As I approached I saw that there were two of themsitting drinking on a bench outside the inn door. I saw them stagger totheir feet, and it was evident that they were both very drunk. One stoodswaying in the middle of the road.

  "It's Boney! So help me, it's Boney!" he yelled. He ran with his handsout to catch me, but luckily for himself his drunken feet stumbled andhe fell on his face on the road. The other was more dangerous. He hadrushed into the inn, and just as I passed I saw him run out with hismusket in his hand. He dropped upon one knee, and I stooped forward overmy horse's neck.

  A single shot from a Prussian or an Austrian is a small matter, butthe British were at that time the best shots in Europe, and my drunkardseemed steady enough when he had a gun at his shoulder. I heard thecrack, and my horse gave a convulsive spring which would have unseatedmany a rider. For an instant I thought he was killed, but when I turnedin my saddle I saw a stream of blood running down the off hind-quarter.I looked back at the Englishman, and the brute had bitten the end offanother cartridge and was ramming it into his musket, but before he hadit primed we were beyond his range. These men were foot-soldiers andcould not join in the chase, but I heard them whooping and tally-hoingbehind me as if I had been a fox. The peasants also shouted and ranthrough the fields flourishing their sticks. From all sides I heardcries, and everywhere were the rushing, waving figures of my pursuers.To think of the great Emperor being chivvied over the country-side inthis fashion! It made me long to have these rascals within the sweep ofmy sword.

  But now I felt that I was nearing the end of my course. I had done allthat a man could be expected to do--some would say more--but at last Ihad come to a point from which I could see no escape. The horses of mypursuers were exhausted, but mine was exhausted and wounded also. It waslosing blood fast, and we left a red trail upon the white, dusty road.Already his pace was slackening, and sooner or later he must drop underme. I looked back, and there were the five inevitable Prussians--Steina hundred yards in front, then a Lancer, and then three others ridingtogether.

  Stein had drawn his sword, and he waved it at me. For my own part I wasdetermined not to give myself up.

  I would try how many of these Prussians I could take with me into theother world. At this supreme moment all the great deeds of my life rosein a vision before me, and I felt that this, my last exploit, was indeeda worthy close to such a career. My death would be a fatal blow to thosewho loved me, to my dear mother, to my Hussars, to others who shall benameless. But all of them had my honour and my fame at heart, and I feltthat their grief would be tinged with pride when they learned how I hadridden and how I had fought upon this last day. Therefore I hardened myheart and, as my Arab limped more and more upon his wounded leg, I drewthe great sword which I had taken from the Cuirassier, and I set myteeth for my supreme struggle. My hand was in the very act of tighteningthe bridle, for I feared that if I delayed longer I might find myself onfoot fighting against five mounted men.

  At that instant my eye fell upon something which brought hope to myheart and a shout of joy to my lips.

  From a grove of trees in front of me there projected the steeple of avillage church. But there could not be two steeples like that, for thecorner of it had crumbled away or been struck by lightning, so that itwas of a most fantastic shape. I had seen it only two days before,and it was the church of the village of Gosselies. It was not the hopeof reaching the village which set my heart singing with joy, but it wasthat I knew my ground now, and that farm-house not half a mile ahead,with its gable end sticking out from amid the trees, must be that veryfarm of St. Aunay where we had bivouac
ked, and which I had named toCaptain Sabbatier as the rendezvous of the Hussars of Conflans. Therethey were, my little rascals, if I could but reach them. With everybound my horse grew weaker. Each instant the sound of the pursuit grewlouder. I heard a gust of crackling German oaths at my very heels. Apistol bullet sighed in my ears. Spurring frantically and beating mypoor Arab with the flat of my sword I kept him at the top of his speed.The open gate of the farm-yard lay before me. I saw the twinkle of steelwithin. Stein's horse's head was within ten yards of me as I thunderedthrough.

  "To me, comrades! To me!" I yelled. I heard a buzz as when the angrybees swarm from their nest. Then my splendid white Arab fell dead underme and I was hurled on to the cobble-stones of the yard, where I canremember no more.

  Such was my last and most famous exploit, my dear friends, a story whichrang through Europe and has made the name of Etienne Gerard famous inhistory.

  Alas! that all my efforts could only give the Emperor a few weeks moreliberty, since he surrendered upon the 15th of July to the English. Butit was not my fault that he was not able to collect the forces stillwaiting for him in France, and to fight another Waterloo with a happierending. Had others been as loyal as I was the history of the world mighthave been changed, the Emperor would have preserved his throne, and sucha soldier as I would not have been left to spend his life in plantingcabbages or to while away his old age telling stories in a cafe. You askme about the fate of Stein and the Prussian horsemen! Of the threewho dropped upon the way I know nothing. One you will remember that Ikilled. There remained five, three of whom were cut down by my Hussars,who, for the instant, were under the impression that it was indeed theEmperor whom they were defending. Stein was taken, slightly wounded, andso was one of the Uhlans. The truth was not told to them, for we thoughtit best that no news, or false news, should get about as to where theEmperor was, so that Count Stein still believed that he was within a fewyards of making that tremendous capture. "You may well love and honouryour Emperor," said he, "for such a horseman and such a swordsman I havenever seen." He could not understand why the young colonel of Hussarslaughed so heartily at his words--but he has learned since.

  VIII. The Last Adventure of the Brigadier

  I will tell you no more stories, my dear friends. It is said that man islike the hare, which runs in a circle and comes back to die at the pointfrom which it started.

  Gascony has been calling to me of late. I see the blue Garonne windingamong the vineyards and the bluer ocean toward which its waters sweep.I see the old town also, and the bristle of masts from the side of thelong stone quay. My heart hungers for the breath of my native air andthe warm glow of my native sun.

  Here in Paris are my friends, my occupations, my pleasures. There allwho have known me are in their grave. And yet the southwest wind asit rattles on my windows seems always to be the strong voice of themotherland calling her child back to that bosom into which I am ready tosink. I have played my part in my time. The time has passed. I must passalso.

  Nay, dear friends, do not look sad, for what can be happier than a lifecompleted in honour and made beautiful with friendship and love? Andyet it is solemn also when a man approaches the end of the long road andsees the turning which leads him into the unknown. But the Emperor andall his Marshals have ridden round that dark turning and passed intothe beyond. My Hussars, too--there are not fifty men who are not waitingyonder. I must go. But on this the last night I will tell you that whichis more than a tale--it is a great historical secret. My lips havebeen sealed, but I see no reason why I should not leave behind me someaccount of this remarkable adventure, which must otherwise be entirelylost, since I and only I, of all living men, have a knowledge of thefacts.

  I will ask you to go back with me to the year 1821.

  In that year our great Emperor had been absent from us for six years,and only now and then from over the seas we heard some whisper whichshowed that he was still alive. You cannot think what a weight it wasupon our hearts for us who loved him to think of him in captivity eatinghis giant soul out upon that lonely island. From the moment we roseuntil we closed our eyes in sleep the thought was always with us, and wefelt dishonoured that he, our chief and master, should be so humiliatedwithout our being able to move a hand to help him. There were many whowould most willingly have laid down the remainder of their lives tobring him a little ease, and yet all that we could do was to sit andgrumble in our cafes and stare at the map, counting up the leagues ofwater which lay between us.

  It seemed that he might have been in the moon for all that we could doto help him. But that was only because we were all soldiers and knewnothing of the sea.

  Of course, we had our own little troubles to make us bitter, as well asthe wrongs of our Emperor. There were many of us who had held high rankand would hold it again if he came back to his own. We had not foundit possible to take service under the white flag of the Bourbons, or totake an oath which might turn our sabres against the man whom we loved.So we found ourselves with neither work nor money. What could we do savegather together and gossip and grumble, while those who had a littlepaid the score and those who had nothing shared the bottle? Now andthen, if we were lucky, we managed to pick a quarrel with one of theGarde du Corps, and if we left him on his hack in the Bois we felt thatwe had struck a blow for Napoleon once again. They came to know ourhaunts in time, and they avoided them as if they had been hornets'nests.

  There was one of these--the Sign of the Great Man--in the Rue Varennes,which was frequented by several of the more distinguished andyounger Napoleonic officers. Nearly all of us had been colonels oraides-de-camp, and when any man of less distinction came among us wegenerally made him feel that he had taken a liberty. There were CaptainLepine, who had won the medal of honour at Leipzig; Colonel Bonnet,aide-de-camp to Macdonald; Colonel Jourdan, whose fame in the army washardly second to my own; Sabbatier of my own Hussars, Meunier of the RedLancers, Le Breton of the Guards, and a dozen others.

  Every night we met and talked, played dominoes, drank a glass or two,and wondered how long it would be before the Emperor would be back andwe at the head of our regiments once more. The Bourbons had alreadylost any hold they ever had upon the country, as was shown a few yearsafterward, when Paris rose against them and they were hunted for thethird time out of France. Napoleon had but to show himself on thecoast, and he would have marched without firing a musket to the capital,exactly as he had done when he came back from Elba.

  Well, when affairs were in this state there arrived one night inFebruary, in our cafe, a most singular little man. He was shortbut exceedingly broad, with huge shoulders, and a head which was adeformity, so large was it. His heavy brown face was scarred with whitestreaks in a most extraordinary manner, and he had grizzled whiskerssuch as seamen wear. Two gold earrings in his ears, and plentifultattooing upon his hands and arms, told us also that he was of the seabefore he introduced himself to us as Captain Fourneau, of the Emperor'snavy. He had letters of introduction to two of our number, and therecould be no doubt that he was devoted to the cause. He won our respect,too, for he had seen as much fighting as any of us, and the burns uponhis face were caused by his standing to his post upon the Orient, atthe Battle of the Nile, until the vessel blew up underneath him. Yethe would say little about himself, but he sat in the corner of the cafewatching us all with a wonderfully sharp pair of eyes and listeningintently to our talk.

  One night I was leaving the cafe when Captain Fourneau followed me, andtouching me on the arm he led me without saying a word for some distanceuntil we reached his lodgings. "I wish to have a chat with you," saidhe, and so conducted me up the stair to his room. There he lit a lampand handed me a sheet of paper which he took from an envelope in hisbureau. It was dated a few months before from the Palace of Schonbrunnat Vienna. "Captain Fourneau is acting in the highest interests of theEmperor Napoleon. Those who love the Emperor should obey him withoutquestion.--Marie Louise." That is what I read. I was familiar with thesignature of the Empress, and I could not
doubt that this was genuine.

  "Well," said he, "are you satisfied as to my credentials?"

  "Entirely."

  "Are you prepared to take your orders from me?"

  "This document leaves me no choice."

  "Good! In the first place, I understand from something you said in thecafe that you can speak English?"

  "Yes, I can."

  "Let me hear you do so."

  I said in English, "Whenever the Emperor needs the help of EtienneGerard I am ready night and day to give my life in his service." CaptainFourneau smiled.

  "It is funny English," said he, "but still it is better than no English.For my own part I speak English like an Englishman. It is all that Ihave to show for six years spent in an English prison. Now I will tellyou why I have come to Paris. I have come in order to choose an agentwho will help me in a matter which affects the interests of the Emperor.I was told that it was at the cafe of the Great Man that I would findthe pick of his old officers, and that I could rely upon every man therebeing devoted to his interests. I studied you all, therefore, and I havecome to the conclusion that you are the one who is most suited for mypurpose."

  I acknowledged the compliment. "What is it that you wish me to do?" Iasked.

  "Merely to keep me company for a few months," said he. "You must knowthat after my release in England I settled down there, married anEnglish wife, and rose to command a small English merchant ship, inwhich I have made several voyages from Southampton to the Guinea coast.They look on me there as an Englishman. You can understand, however,that with my feelings about the Emperor I am lonely sometimes, and thatit would be an advantage to me to have a companion who would sympathizewith my thoughts. One gets very bored on these long voyages, and I wouldmake it worth your while to share my cabin."

  He looked hard at me with his shrewd grey eyes all the time that he wasuttering this rigmarole, and I gave him a glance in return which showedhim that he was not dealing with a fool. He took out a canvas bag fullof money.

  "There are a hundred pounds in gold in this bag," said he. "You will beable to buy some comforts for your voyage. I should recommend you to getthem in Southampton, whence we will start in ten days. The name of thevessel is the Black Swan. I return to Southampton to-morrow, and I shallhope to see you in the course of the next week."

  "Come now," said I. "Tell me frankly what is the destination of ourvoyage?"

  "Oh, didn't I tell you?" he answered. "We are bound for the Guinea coastof Africa."

  "Then how can that be in the highest interests of the Emperor?" I asked.

  "It is in his highest interests that you ask no indiscreet questions andI give no indiscreet replies," he answered, sharply. So he brought theinterview to an end, and I found myself back in my lodgings with nothingsave this bag of gold to show that this singular interview had indeedtaken place.

  There was every reason why I should see the adventure to a conclusion,and so within a week I was on my way to England. I passed from St.Malo to Southampton, and on inquiry at the docks I had no difficulty infinding the Black Swan, a neat little vessel of a shape which is called,as I learned afterward, a brig. There was Captain Fourneau himself uponthe deck, and seven or eight rough fellows hard at work grooming her andmaking her ready for sea. He greeted me and led me down to his cabin.

  "You are plain Mr. Gerard now," said he, "and a Channel Islander. Iwould be obliged to you if you would kindly forget your military waysand drop your cavalry swagger when you walk up and down my deck.A beard, too, would seem more sailor-like than those moustaches."

  I was horrified by his words, but, after all, there are no ladies on thehigh seas, and what did it matter? He rang for the steward.

  "Gustav," said he, "you will pay every attention to my friend, MonsieurEtienne Gerard, who makes this voyage with us. This is Gustav Kerouan,my Breton steward," he explained, "and you are very safe in his hands."

  This steward, with his harsh face and stern eyes, looked a very warlikeperson for so peaceful an employment.

  I said nothing, however, though you may guess that I kept my eyes open.A berth had been prepared for me next the cabin, which would haveseemed comfortable enough had it not contrasted with the extraordinarysplendour of Fourneau's quarters. He was certainly a most luxuriousperson, for his room was new-fitted with velvet and silver in a waywhich would have suited the yacht of a noble better than a little WestAfrican trader.

  So thought the mate, Mr. Burns, who could not hide his amusement andcontempt whenever he looked at it.

  This fellow, a big, solid, red-headed Englishman, had the other berthconnected with the cabin. There was a second mate named Turner, wholodged in the middle of the ship, and there were nine men and one boyin the crew, three of whom, as I was informed by Mr. Burns, were ChannelIslanders like myself. This Burns, the first mate, was much interestedto know why I was coming with them.

  "I come for pleasure," said I.

  He stared at me.

  "Ever been to the West Coast?" he asked.

  I said that I had not.

  "I thought not," said he. "You'll never come again for that reason,anyhow."

  Some three days after my arrival we untied the ropes by which the shipwas tethered and we set off upon our journey. I was never a good sailor,and I may confess that we were far out of sight of any land before I wasable to venture upon deck. At last, however, upon the fifth day I drankthe soup which the good Kerouan brought me, and I was able to crawl frommy bunk and up the stair. The fresh air revived me, and from that timeonward I accommodated myself to the motion of the vessel. My beard hadbegun to grow also, and I have no doubt that I should have made as finea sailor as I have a soldier had I chanced to be born to that branch ofthe service. I learned to pull the ropes which hoisted the sails, andalso to haul round the long sticks to which they are attached. For themost part, however, my duties were to play ecarte with Captain Fourneau,and to act as his companion. It was not strange that he should need one,for neither of his mates could read or write, though each of them was anexcellent seaman.

  If our captain had died suddenly I cannot imagine how we should havefound our way in that waste of waters, for it was only he who had theknowledge which enabled him to mark our place upon the chart. He hadthis fixed upon the cabin wall, and every day he put our course upon itso that we could see at a glance how far we were from our destination.It was wonderful how well he could calculate it, for one morning he saidthat we should see the Cape Verd light that very night, and there itwas, sure enough, upon our left front the moment that darkness came.Next day, however, the land was out of sight, and Burns, the mate,explained to me that we should see no more until we came to our port inthe Gulf of Biafra. Every day we flew south with a favouring wind, andalways at noon the pin upon the chart was moved nearer and nearer to theAfrican coast. I may explain that palm oil was the cargo which we werein search of, and that our own lading consisted of coloured cloths, oldmuskets, and such other trifles as the English sell to the savages.

  At last the wind which had followed us so long died away, and forseveral days we drifted about on a calm and oily sea, under a sun whichbrought the pitch bubbling out between the planks upon the deck. Weturned and turned our sails to catch every wandering puff, until atlast we came out of this belt of calm and ran south again with a briskbreeze, the sea all round us being alive with flying fishes. For somedays Burns appeared to be uneasy, and I observed him continually shadinghis eyes with his hand and staring at the horizon as if he were lookingfor land. Twice I caught him with his red head against the chart in thecabin, gazing at that pin, which was always approaching and yet neverreaching the African coast. At last one evening, as Captain Fourneau andI were playing ecarte in the cabin, the mate entered with an angry lookupon his sunburned face.

  "I beg your pardon, Captain Fourneau," said he.

  "But do you know what course the man at the wheel is steering?"

  "Due south," the captain answered, with his eyes fixed upon his cards.

  "A
nd he should be steering due east."

  "How do you make that out?"

  The mate gave an angry growl.

  "I may not have much education," said he, "but let me tell you this,Captain Fourneau, I've sailed these waters since I was a little nipperof ten, and I know the line when I'm on it, and I know the doldrums, andI know how to find my way to the oil rivers. We are south of the linenow, and we should be steering due east instead of due south if yourport is the port that the owners sent you to."

  "Excuse me, Mr. Gerard. Just remember that it is my lead," said thecaptain, laying down his cards.

  "Come to the map here, Mr. Burns, and I will give you a lesson inpractical navigation. Here is the trade wind from the southwest and hereis the line, and here is the port that we want to make, and here isa man who will have his own way aboard his own ship." As he spoke heseized the unfortunate mate by the throat and squeezed him until he wasnearly senseless. Kerouan, the steward, had rushed in with a rope, andbetween them they gagged and trussed the man, so that he was utterlyhelpless.

  "There is one of our Frenchmen at the wheel. We had best put the mateoverboard," said the steward.

  "That is safest," said Captain Fourneau.

  But that was more than I could stand. Nothing would persuade me to agreeto the death of a helpless man.

  With a bad grace Captain Fourneau consented to spare him, and we carriedhim to the after-hold, which lay under the cabin. There he was laidamong the bales of Manchester cloth.

  "It is not worth while to put down the hatch," said Captain Fourneau."Gustav, go to Mr. Turner and tell him that I would like to have a wordwith him."

  The unsuspecting second mate entered the cabin, and was instantly gaggedand secured as Burns had been.

  He was carried down and laid beside his comrade. The hatch was thenreplaced.

  "Our hands have been forced by that red-headed dolt," said the captain,"and I have had to explode my mine before I wished. However, there is nogreat harm done, and it will not seriously disarrange my plans.

  "Kerouan, you will take a keg of rum forward to the crew and tell themthat the captain gives it to them to drink his health on the occasion ofcrossing the line.

  "They will know no better. As to our own fellows, bring them down toyour pantry so that we may be sure that they are ready for business.Now, Colonel Gerard, with your permission we will resume our game ofecarte."

  It is one of those occasions which one does not forget.

  This captain, who was a man of iron, shuffled and cut, dealt andplayed as if he were in his cafe. From below we heard the inarticulatemurmurings of the two mates, half smothered by the handkerchiefs whichgagged them. Outside the timbers creaked and the sails hummed under thebrisk breeze which was sweeping us upon our way. Amid the splash of thewaves and the whistle of the wind we heard the wild cheers and shoutingsof the English sailors as they broached the keg of rum. We playedhalf-a-dozen games and then the captain rose. "I think they are readyfor us now," said he. He took a brace of pistols from a locker, and hehanded one of them to me.

  But we had no need to fear resistance, for there was no one to resist.The Englishman of those days, whether soldier or sailor, was anincorrigible drunkard.

  Without drink he was a brave and good man. But if drink were laid beforehim it was a perfect madness--nothing could induce him to take it withmoderation.

  In the dim light of the den which they inhabited, five senseless figuresand two shouting, swearing, singing madmen represented the crew of theBlack Swan. Coils of rope were brought forward by the steward, and withthe help of two French seamen (the third was at the wheel) we securedthe drunkards and tied them up, so that it was impossible for them tospeak or move. They were placed under the fore-hatch, as their officershad been under the after one, and Kerouan was directed twice a day togive them food and drink. So at last we found that the Black Swan wasentirely our own.

  Had there been bad weather I do not know what we should have done, butwe still went gaily upon our way with a wind which was strong enough todrive us swiftly south, but not strong enough to cause us alarm. On theevening of the third day I found Captain Fourneau gazing eagerly outfrom the platform in the front of the vessel. "Look, Gerard, look!" hecried, and pointed over the pole which stuck out in front.

  A light blue sky rose from a dark blue sea, and far away, at the pointwhere they met, was a shadowy something like a cloud, but more definitein shape.

  "What is it?" I cried.

  "It is land."

  "And what land?"

  I strained my ears for the answer, and yet I knew already what theanswer would be.

  "It is St. Helena."

  Here, then, was the island of my dreams! Here was the cage where ourgreat Eagle of France was confined!

  All those thousands of leagues of water had not sufficed to keep Gerardfrom the master whom he loved.

  There he was, there on that cloud-bank yonder over the dark blue sea.How my eyes devoured it! How my soul flew in front of the vessel--flewon and on to tell him that he was not forgotten, that after many daysone faithful servant was coming to his side. Every instant the dark blurupon the water grew harder and clearer.

  Soon I could see plainly enough that it was indeed a mountainous island.The night fell, but still I knelt upon the deck, with my eyes fixed uponthe darkness which covered the spot where I knew that the great Emperorwas. An hour passed and another one, and then suddenly a little goldentwinkling light shone out exactly ahead of us. It was the light of thewindow of some house--perhaps of his house. It could not be more thana mile or two away. Oh, how I held out my hands to it!--they were thehands of Etienne Gerard, but it was for all France that they were heldout.

  Every light had been extinguished aboard our ship, and presently, atthe direction of Captain Fourneau, we all pulled upon one of the ropes,which had the effect of swinging round one of the sticks above us, andso stopping the vessel. Then he asked me to step down to the cabin.

  "You understand everything now, Colonel Gerard," said he, "and you willforgive me if I did not take you into my complete confidence before.In a matter of such importance I make no man my confidant. I have longplanned the rescue of the Emperor, and my remaining in England andjoining their merchant service was entirely with that design. All hasworked out exactly as I expected. I have made several successful voyagesto the West Coast of Africa, so that there was no difficulty in myobtaining the command of this one. One by one I got these old Frenchman-of-war's-men among the hands. As to you, I was anxious to have onetried fighting man in case of resistance, and I also desired to have afitting companion for the Emperor during his long homeward voyage. Mycabin is already fitted up for his use. I trust that before to-morrowmorning he will be inside it, and we out of sight of this accursedisland."

  You can think of my emotion, my friends, as I listened to these words.I embraced the brave Fourneau, and implored him to tell me how I couldassist him.

  "I must leave it all in your hands," said he. "Would that I could havebeen the first to pay him homage, but it would not be wise for me togo. The glass is falling, there is a storm brewing, and we have the landunder our lee. Besides, there are three English cruisers near the islandwhich may be upon us at any moment. It is for me, therefore, to guardthe ship and for you to bring off the Emperor."

  I thrilled at the words.

  "Give me your instructions!" I cried.

  "I can only spare you one man, for already I can hardly pull round theyards," said he. "One of the boats has been lowered, and this man willrow you ashore and await your return. The light which you see is indeedthe light of Longwood. All who are in the house are your friends, andall may be depended upon to aid the Emperor's escape. There is a cordonof English sentries, but they are not very near to the house. Once youhave got as far as that you will convey our plans to the Emperor, guidehim down to the boat, and bring him on board."

  The Emperor himself could not have given his instructions more shortlyand clearly. There was not a moment to be l
ost. The boat with the seamanwas waiting alongside. I stepped into it, and an instant afterward wehad pushed off. Our little boat danced over the dark waters, but alwaysshining before my eyes was the light of Longwood, the light of theEmperor, the star of hope. Presently the bottom of the boat grated uponthe pebbles of the beach. It was a deserted cove, and no challenge froma sentry came to disturb us. I left the seaman by the boat and I beganto climb the hillside.

  There was a goat track winding in and out among the rocks, so I had nodifficulty in finding my way. It stands to reason that all paths in St.Helena would lead to the Emperor. I came to a gate. No sentry--andI passed through. Another gate--still no sentry! I wondered what hadbecome of this cordon of which Fourneau had spoken. I had come now tothe top of my climb, for there was the light burning steadily right infront of me. I concealed myself and took a good look round, but still Icould see no sign of the enemy. As I approached I saw the house, a long,low building with a veranda. A man was walking up and down upon the pathin front. I crept nearer and had a look at him.

  Perhaps it was this cursed Hudson Lowe. What a triumph if I could notonly rescue the Emperor, but also avenge him! But it was more likelythat this man was an English sentry. I crept nearer still, and the manstopped in front of the lighted window, so that I could see him. No; itwas no soldier, but a priest. I wondered what such a man could be doingthere at two in the morning. Was he French or English? If he were one ofthe household I might take him into my confidence. If he were English hemight ruin all my plans.

  I crept a little nearer still, and at that moment he entered the house,a flood of light pouring out through the open door. All was clear for menow and I understood that not an instant was to be lost. Bending myselfdouble I ran swiftly forward to the lighted window.

  Raising my head I peeped through, and there was the Emperor lying deadbefore me.

  My friends, I fell down upon the gravel walk as senseless as if a bullethad passed through my brain. So great was the shock that I wonder that Isurvived it.

  And yet in half an hour I had staggered to my feet again, shivering inevery limb, my teeth chattering, and there I stood staring with the eyesof a maniac into that room of death.

  He lay upon a bier in the centre of the chamber, calm, composed,majestic, his face full of that reserve power which lightened our heartsupon the day of battle. A half-smile was fixed upon his pale lips, andhis eyes, half-opened, seemed to be turned on mine. He was stouterthan when I had seen him at Waterloo, and there was a gentleness ofexpression which I had never seen in life. On either side of him burnedrows of candles, and this was the beacon which had welcomed us at sea,which had guided me over the water, and which I had hailed as my starof hope. Dimly I became conscious that many people were kneeling inthe room; the little Court, men and women, who had shared his fortunes,Bertrand, his wife, the priest, Montholon--all were there. I would haveprayed too, but my heart was too heavy and bitter for prayer. And yetI must leave, and I could not leave him without a sign. Regardless ofwhether I was seen or not, I drew myself erect before my dead leader,brought my heels together, and raised my hand in a last salute. Then Iturned and hurried off through the darkness, with the picture of the wan,smiling lips and the steady grey eyes dancing always before me.

  It had seemed to me but a little time that I had been away, and yet theboatman told me that it was hours.

  Only when he spoke of it did I observe that the wind was blowing halfa gale from the sea and that the waves were roaring in upon the beach.Twice we tried to push out our little boat, and twice it was thrown backby the sea. The third time a great wave filled it and stove the bottom.Helplessly we waited beside it until the dawn broke, to show a ragingsea and a flying scud above it. There was no sign of the Black Swan.Climbing the hill we looked down, but on all the great torn expanse ofthe ocean there was no gleam of a sail. She was gone. Whether she hadsunk, or whether she was recaptured by her English crew, or what strangefate may have been in store for her, I do not know. Never again in thislife did I see Captain Fourneau to tell him the result of my mission.For my own part I gave myself up to the English, my boatman and Ipretending that we were the only survivors of a lost vessel--though,indeed, there was no pretence in the matter. At the hands of theirofficers I received that generous hospitality which I have alwaysencountered, but it was many a long month before I could get a passageback to the dear land outside of which there can be no happiness for sotrue a Frenchman as myself.

  And so I tell you in one evening how I bade good-bye to my master, andI take my leave also of you, my kind friends, who have listened sopatiently to the long-winded stories of an old broken soldier. Russia,Italy, Germany, Spain, Portugal, and England, you have gone with me toall these countries, and you have seen through my dim eyes something ofthe sparkle and splendour of those great days, and I have brought backto you some shadow of those men whose tread shook the earth. Treasure itin your minds and pass it on to your children, for the memory of a greatage is the most precious treasure that a nation can possess. As the treeis nurtured by its own cast leaves so it is these dead men and vanisheddays which may bring out another blossoming of heroes, of rulers, and ofsages. I go to Gascony, but my words stay here in your memory, and longafter Etienne Gerard is forgotten a heart may be warmed or a spiritbraced by some faint echo of the words that he has spoken. Gentlemen, anold soldier salutes you and bids you farewell.

 
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