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The Exploits of BRIGADIER GERARD

SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

_This book is published by arrangement with the Estate of the late Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle_

1896

BY SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_
_The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes_
_The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes_
_The Return of Sherlock Holmes_
_His Last Bow_
_The Hound of the Baskervilles_
_The Sign of Four_
_The Valley of Fear_
_Sir Nigel_
_The White Company_
_Micah Clarke_
_The Refugees_
_Rodney Stone_
_Uncle Bernac_
_Adventures of Gerard_
_The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard_
_The Lost World_
_The Tragedy of the Korosko_

OMNIBUS VOLUMES

_Great Stories_
_The Conan Doyle Stories_
_The Sherlock Holmes Short Stories_
_The Sherlock Holmes Long Stories_
_The Historical Romances_
_The Complete Professor Challenger Stories_
_The Complete Napoleonic Stories_

_The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle_

by John Dickson Carr

CONTENTS

1. How the Brigadier came to the Castle of Gloom

2. How the Brigadier slew the brothers of Ajaccio

3. How the Brigadier held the King

4. How the King held the Brigadier

5. How the Brigadier took the field against the Marshal Millefleurs

6. How the Brigadier played for a kingdom

7. How the Brigadier won his Medal

8. How the Brigadier was tempted by the Devil

1. HOW THE BRIGADIER CAME TO THE CASTLE OF GLOOM[A]

You do very well, my friends, to treat me with some little reverence,
for in honouring me you are honouring both France and yourselves. It is
not merely an old, grey-moustached officer whom you see eating his
omelette or draining his glass, but it is a fragment of history. In me
you see one of the last of those wonderful men, the men who were
veterans when they were yet boys, who learned to use a sword earlier
than a razor, and who during a hundred battles had never once let the
enemy see the colour of their knapsacks. For twenty years we were
teaching Europe how to fight, and even when they had learned their
lesson it was only the thermometer, and never the bayonet, which could
break the Grand Army down. Berlin, Naples, Vienna, Madrid, Lisbon,
Moscow--we stabled our horses in them all. Yes, my friends, I say again
that you do well to send your children to me with flowers, for these
ears have heard the trumpet calls of France, and these eyes have seen
her standards in lands where they may never be seen again.

Even now, when I doze in my arm-chair, I can see those great warriors
stream before me--the green-jacketed chasseurs, the giant cuirassiers,
Poniatowsky's lancers, the white-mantled dragoons, the nodding bearskins
of the horse grenadiers. And then there comes the thick, low rattle of
the drums, and through wreaths of dust and smoke I see the line of high
bonnets, the row of brown faces, the swing and toss of the long, red
plumes amid the sloping lines of steel. And there rides Ney with his red
head, and Lefebvre with his bulldog jaw, and Lannes with his Gascon
swagger; and then amidst the gleam of brass and the flaunting feathers I
catch a glimpse of _him_, the man with the pale smile, the rounded
shoulders, and the far-off eyes. There is an end of my sleep, my
friends, for up I spring from my chair, with a cracked voice calling and
a silly hand outstretched, so that Madame Titaux has one more laugh at
the old fellow who lives among the shadows.

Although I was a full Chief of Brigade when the wars came to an end, and
had every hope of soon being made a General of Division, it is still
rather to my earlier days that I turn when I wish to talk of the glories
and the trials of a soldier's life. For you will understand that when an
officer has so many men and horses under him, he has his mind full of
recruits and remounts, fodder and farriers, and quarters, so that even
when he is not in the face of the enemy, life is a very serious matter
for him. But when he is only a lieutenant or a captain he has nothing
heavier than his epaulettes upon his shoulders, so that he can clink his
spurs and swing his dolman, drain his glass and kiss his girl, thinking
of nothing save of enjoying a gallant life. That is the time when he is
likely to have adventures, and it is often to that time that I shall
turn in the stories which I may have for you. So it will be tonight when
I tell you of my visit to the Castle of Gloom; of the strange mission of
Sub-Lieutenant Duroc, and of the horrible affair of the man who was once
known as Jean Carabin, and afterwards as the Baron Straubenthal.

You must know, then, that in the February of 1807, immediately after the
taking of Danzig, Major Legendre and I were commissioned to bring four
hundred remounts from Prussia into Eastern Poland.

The hard weather, and especially the great battle at Eylau, had killed
so many of the horses that there was some danger of our beautiful Tenth
of Hussars becoming a battalion of light infantry. We knew, therefore,
both the Major and I, that we should be very welcome at the front. We
did not advance very rapidly, however, for the snow was deep, the roads
detestable, and we had but twenty returning invalids to assist us.
Besides, it is impossible, when you have a daily change of forage, and
sometimes none at all, to move horses faster than a walk. I am aware
that in the story-books the cavalry whirls past at the maddest of
gallops; but for my own part, after twelve campaigns, I should be very
satisfied to know that my brigade could always walk upon the march and
trot in the presence of the enemy. This I say of the hussars and
chasseurs, mark you, so that it is far more the case with cuirassiers or
dragoons.

For myself I am fond of horses, and to have four hundred of them, of
every age and shade and character, all under my own hands, was a very
great pleasure to me. They were from Pomerania for the most part, though
some were from Normandy and some from Alsace, and it amused us to notice
that they differed in character as much as the people of those
provinces. We observed also, what I have often proved since, that the
nature of a horse can be told by his colour, from the coquettish light
bay, full of fancies and nerves, to the hardy chestnut, and from the
docile roan to the pig-headed rusty-black. All this has nothing in the
world to do with my story, but how is an officer of cavalry to get on
with his tale when he finds four hundred horses waiting for him at the
outset? It is my habit, you see, to talk of that which interests myself
and so I hope that I may interest you.

We crossed the Vistula opposite Marienwerder, and had got as far as
Riesenberg, when Major Legendre came into my room in the post-house with
an open paper in his hand.

'You are to leave me,' said he, with despair upon his face.

It was no very great grief to me to do that, for he was, if I may say
so, hardly worthy to have such a subaltern. I saluted, however, in
silence.

'It is an order from General Lasalle,' he continued; 'you are to
proceed to Rossel instantly, and to report yourself at the headquarters
of the regiment.'

No message could have pleased me better. I was already very well thought
of by my superior officers. It was evident to me, therefore, that this
sudden order meant that the regiment was about to see service once more,
and that Lasalle understood how incomplete my squadron would be without
me. It is true that it came at an inconvenient moment, for the keeper of
the post-house had a daughter--one of those ivory-skinned, black-haired
Polish girls--with whom I had hoped to have some further talk. Still, it
is not for the pawn to argue when the fingers of the player move him
from the square; so down I went, saddled my big black charger, Rataplan,
and set off instantly upon my lonely journey.

My word, it was a treat for those poor Poles and Jews, who have so
little to brighten their dull lives, to see such a picture as that
before their doors! The frosty morning air made Rataplan's great black
limbs and the beautiful curves of his back and sides gleam and shimmer
with every gambade. As for me, the rattle of hoofs upon a road, and the
jingle of bridle chains which comes with every toss of a saucy head,
would even now set my blood dancing through my veins. You may think,
then, how I carried myself in my five-and-twentieth year--I, Etienne
Gerard, the picked horseman and surest blade in the ten regiments of
hussars. Blue was our colour in the Tenth--a sky-blue dolman and pelisse
with a scarlet front--and it was said of us in the army that we could
set a whole population running, the women towards us, and the men away.
There were bright eyes in the Riesenberg windows that morning which
seemed to beg me to tarry; but what can a soldier do, save to kiss his
hand and shake his bridle as he rides upon his way?

It was a bleak season to ride through the poorest and ugliest country in
Europe, but there was a cloudless sky above, and a bright, cold sun,
which shimmered on the huge snowfields. My breath reeked into the
frosty air, and Rataplan sent up two feathers of steam from his
nostrils, while the icicles drooped from the side-irons of his bit. I
let him trot to warm his limbs, while for my own part I had too much to
think of to give much heed to the cold. To north and south stretched the
great plains, mottled over with dark clumps of fir and lighter patches
of larch. A few cottages peeped out here and there, but it was only
three months since the Grand Army had passed that way, and you know what
that meant to a country. The Poles were our friends, it was true, but
out of a hundred thousand men, only the Guard had waggons, and the rest
had to live as best they might. It did not surprise me, therefore, to
see no signs of cattle and no smoke from the silent houses. A weal had
been left across the country where the great host had passed, and it was
said that even the rats were starved wherever the Emperor had led his
men.

By midday I had got as far as the village of Saalfeldt, but as I was on
the direct road for Osterode, where the Emperor was wintering, and also
for the main camp of the seven divisions of infantry, the highway was
choked with carriages and carts. What with artillery caissons and
waggons and couriers, and the ever-thickening stream of recruits and
stragglers, it seemed to me that it would be a very long time before I
should join my comrades. The plains, however, were five feet deep in
snow, so there was nothing for it but to plod upon our way. It was with
joy, therefore, that I found a second road which branched away from the
other, trending through a fir-wood towards the north. There was a small
auberge at the cross-roads, and a patrol of the Third Hussars of
Conflans--the very regiment of which I was afterwards colonel--were
mounting their horses at the door. On the steps stood their officer, a
slight, pale young man, who looked more like a young priest from a
seminary than a leader of the devil-may-care rascals before him.

'Good-day, sir,' said he, seeing that I pulled up my horse.

'Good-day,' I answered. 'I am Lieutenant Etienne Gerard, of the Tenth.'

I could see by his face that he had heard of me. Everybody had heard of
me since my duel with the six fencing masters. My manner, however,
served to put him at his ease with me.

'I am Sub-Lieutenant Duroc, of the Third,' said he.

'Newly joined?' I asked.

'Last week.'

I had thought as much, from his white face and from the way in which he
let his men lounge upon their horses. It was not so long, however, since
I had learned myself what it was like when a schoolboy has to give
orders to veteran troopers. It made me blush, I remember, to shout
abrupt commands to men who had seen more battles than I had years, and
it would have come more natural for me to say, 'With your permission, we
shall now wheel into line,' or, 'If you think it best, we shall trot.' I
did not think the less of the lad, therefore, when I observed that his
men were somewhat out of hand, but I gave them a glance which stiffened
them in their saddles.

'May I ask, monsieur, whether you are going by this northern road?' I
asked.

'My orders are to patrol it as far as Arensdorf,' said he.

'Then I will, with your permission, ride so far with you,' said I. 'It
is very clear that the longer way will be the faster.'

So it proved, for this road led away from the army into a country which
was given over to Cossacks and marauders, and it was as bare as the
other was crowded. Duroc and I rode in front, with our six troopers
clattering in the rear. He was a good boy, this Duroc, with his head
full of the nonsense that they teach at St Cyr, knowing more about
Alexander and Pompey than how to mix a horse's fodder or care for a
horse's feet. Still, he was, as I have said, a good boy, unspoiled as
yet by the camp. It pleased me to hear him prattle away about his
sister Marie and about his mother in Amiens. Presently we found
ourselves at the village of Hayenau. Duroc rode up to the post-house and
asked to see the master.

'Can you tell me,' said he, 'whether the man who calls himself the Baron
Straubenthal lives in these parts?'

The postmaster shook his head, and we rode upon our way. I took no
notice of this, but when, at the next village, my comrade repeated the
same question, with the same result, I could not help asking him who
this Baron Straubenthal might be.

'He is a man,' said Duroc, with a sudden flush upon his boyish face, 'to
whom I have a very important message to convey.'

Well, this was not satisfactory, but there was something in my
companion's manner which told me that any further questioning would be
distasteful to him. I said nothing more, therefore, but Duroc would
still ask every peasant whom we met whether he could give him any news
of the Baron Straubenthal.

For my own part I was endeavouring, as an officer of light cavalry
should, to form an idea of the lay of the country, to note the course of
the streams, and to mark the places where there should be fords. Every
step was taking us farther from the camp round the flanks of which we
were travelling. Far to the south a few plumes of grey smoke in the
frosty air marked the position of some of our outposts. To the north,
however, there was nothing between ourselves and the Russian winter
quarters. Twice on the extreme horizon I caught a glimpse of the glitter
of steel, and pointed it out to my companion. It was too distant for us
to tell whence it came, but we had little doubt that it was from the
lance-heads of marauding Cossacks.

The sun was just setting when we rode over a low hill and saw a small
village upon our right, and on our left a high black castle, which
jutted out from amongst the pine-woods. A farmer with his cart was
approaching us--a matted-haired, downcast fellow, in a sheepskin jacket.

'What village is this?' asked Duroc.

'It is Arensdorf,' he answered, in his barbarous German dialect.

'Then here I am to stay the night,' said my young companion. Then,
turning to the farmer, he asked his eternal question, 'Can you tell me
where the Baron Straubenthal lives?'

'Why, it is he who owns the Castle of Gloom,' said the farmer, pointing
to the dark turrets over the distant fir forest.

Duroc gave a shout like the sportsman who sees his game rising in front
of him. The lad seemed to have gone off his head--his eyes shining, his
face deathly white, and such a grim set about his mouth as made the
farmer shrink away from him. I can see him now, leaning forward on his
brown horse, with his eager gaze fixed upon the great black tower.

'Why do you call it the Castle of Gloom?' I asked.

'Well, it's the name it bears upon the countryside,' said the farmer.
'By all accounts there have been some black doings up yonder. It's not
for nothing that the wickedest man in Poland has been living there these
fourteen years past.'

'A Polish nobleman?' I asked.

'Nay, we breed no such men in Poland,' he answered.

'A Frenchman, then?' cried Duroc.

'They say that he came from France.'

'And with red hair?'

'As red as a fox.'

'Yes, yes, it is my man,' cried my companion, quivering all over in his
excitement. 'It is the hand of Providence which has led me here. Who can
say that there is not justice in this world? Come, Monsieur Gerard, for
I must see the men safely quartered before I can attend to this private
matter.'

He spurred on his horse, and ten minutes later we were at the door of
the inn of Arensdorf, where his men were to find their quarters for the
night.

Well, all this was no affair of mine, and I could not imagine what the
meaning of it might be. Rossel was still far off, but I determined to
ride on for a few hours and take my chance of some wayside barn in which
I could find shelter for Rataplan and myself. I had mounted my horse,
therefore, after tossing off a cup of wine, when young Duroc came
running out of the door and laid his hand upon my knee.

'Monsieur Gerard,' he panted, 'I beg of you not to abandon me like
this!'

'My good sir,' said I, 'if you would tell me what is the matter and what
you would wish me to do, I should be better able to tell you if I could
be of any assistance to you.'

'You can be of the very greatest,' he cried. 'Indeed, from all that I
have heard of you, Monsieur Gerard, you are the one man whom I should
wish to have by my side tonight.'

'You forget that I am riding to join my regiment.'

'You cannot, in any case, reach it tonight. Tomorrow will bring you to
Rossel. By staying with me you will confer the very greatest kindness
upon me, and you will aid me in a matter which concerns my own honour
and the honour of my family. I am compelled, however, to confess to you
that some personal danger may possibly be involved.'

It was a crafty thing for him to say. Of course, I sprang from
Rataplan's back and ordered the groom to lead him back into the stables.

'Come into the inn,' said I, 'and let me know exactly what it is that
you wish me to do.'

He led the way into a sitting-room, and fastened the door lest we should
be interrupted. He was a well-grown lad, and as he stood in the glare of
the lamp, with the light beating upon his earnest face and upon his
uniform of silver grey, which suited him to a marvel, I felt my heart
warm towards him. Without going so far as to say that he carried himself
as I had done at his age, there was at least similarity enough to make
me feel in sympathy with him.

'I can explain it all in a few words,' said he. 'If I have not already
satisfied your very natural curiosity, it is because the subject is so
painful a one to me that I can hardly bring myself to allude to it. I
cannot, however, ask for your assistance without explaining to you
exactly how the matter lies.

'You must know, then, that my father was the well-known banker,
Christophe Duroc, who was murdered by the people during the September
massacres. As you are aware, the mob took possession of the prisons,
chose three so-called judges to pass sentence upon the unhappy
aristocrats, and then tore them to pieces when they were passed out into
the street. My father had been a benefactor of the poor all his life.
There were many to plead for him. He had the fever, too, and was carried
in, half-dead, upon a blanket. Two of the judges were in favour of
acquitting him; the third, a young Jacobin, whose huge body and brutal
mind had made him a leader among these wretches, dragged him, with his
own hands, from the litter, kicked him again and again with his heavy
boots, and hurled him out of the door, where in an instant he was torn
limb from limb under circumstances which are too horrible for me to
describe. This, as you perceive, was murder, even under their own
unlawful laws, for two of their own judges had pronounced in my father's
favour.

'Well, when the days of order came back again, my elder brother began to
make inquiries about this man. I was only a child then, but it was a
family matter, and it was discussed in my presence. The fellow's name
was Carabin. He was one of Sansterre's Guard, and a noted duellist. A
foreign lady named the Baroness Straubenthal having been dragged before
the Jacobins, he had gained her liberty for her on the promise that she
with her money and estates should be his. He had married her, taken her
name and title, and escaped out of France at the time of the fall of
Robespierre. What had become of him we had no means of learning.

'You will think, doubtless, that it would be easy for us to find him,
since we had both his name and his title. You must remember, however,
that the Revolution left us without money, and that without money such a
search is very difficult. Then came the Empire, and it became more
difficult still, for, as you are aware, the Emperor considered that the
18th Brumaire brought all accounts to a settlement, and that on that day
a veil had been drawn across the past. None the less, we kept our own
family story and our own family plans.

'My brother joined the army, and passed with it through all Southern
Europe, asking everywhere for the Baron Straubenthal. Last October he
was killed at Jena, with his mission still unfulfilled. Then it became
my turn, and I have the good fortune to hear of the very man of whom I
am in search at one of the first Polish villages which I have to visit,
and within a fortnight of joining my regiment. And then, to make the
matter even better, I find myself in the company of one whose name is
never mentioned throughout the army save in connection with some daring
and generous deed.'

This was all very well, and I listened to it with the greatest interest,
but I was none the clearer as to what young Duroc wished me to do.

'How can I be of service to you?' I asked.

'By coming up with me.'

'To the Castle?'

'Precisely.'

'When?'

'At once.'

'But what do you intend to do?'

'I shall know what to do. But I wish you to be with me, all the same.'

Well, it was never in my nature to refuse an adventure, and, besides, I
had every sympathy with the lad's feelings. It is very well to forgive
one's enemies, but one wishes to give them something to forgive also. I
held out my hand to him, therefore.

'I must be on my way for Rossel tomorrow morning, but tonight I am
yours,' said I.

We left our troopers in snug quarters, and, as it was but a mile to the
Castle, we did not disturb our horses. To tell the truth, I hate to see
a cavalry man walk, and I hold that just as he is the most gallant thing
upon earth when he has his saddle-flaps between his knees, so he is the
most clumsy when he has to loop up his sabre and his sabre-tasche in one
hand and turn in his toes for fear of catching the rowels of his spurs.
Still, Duroc and I were of the age when one can carry things off, and I
dare swear that no woman at least would have quarrelled with the
appearance of the two young hussars, one in blue and one in grey, who
set out that night from the Arensdorf post-house. We both carried our
swords, and for my own part I slipped a pistol from my holster into the
inside of my pelisse, for it seemed to me that there might be some wild
work before us.

The track which led to the Castle wound through a pitch-black fir-wood,
where we could see nothing save the ragged patch of stars above our
heads. Presently, however, it opened up, and there was the Castle right
in front of us, about as far as a carbine would carry. It was a huge,
uncouth place, and bore every mark of being exceedingly old, with
turrets at every corner, and a square keep on the side which was nearest
to us. In all its great shadow there was no sign of light save from a
single window, and no sound came from it. To me there was something
awful in its size and its silence, which corresponded so well with its
sinister name. My companion pressed on eagerly, and I followed him along
the ill-kept path which led to the gate.

There was no bell or knocker upon the great iron-studded door, and it
was only by pounding with the hilts of our sabres that we could attract
attention. A thin, hawk-faced man, with a beard up to his temples,
opened it at last. He carried a lantern in one hand, and in the other a
chain which held an enormous black hound. His manner at the first moment
was threatening, but the sight of our uniforms and of our faces turned
it into one of sulky reserve.

'The Baron Straubenthal does not receive visitors at so late an hour,'
said he, speaking in very excellent French.

'You can inform Baron Straubenthal that I have come eight hundred
leagues to see him, and that I will not leave until I have done so,'
said my companion. I could not myself have said it with a better voice
and manner.

The fellow took a sidelong look at us, and tugged at his black beard in
his perplexity.

'To tell the truth, gentlemen,' said he, 'the Baron has a cup or two of
wine in him at this hour, and you would certainly find him a more
entertaining companion if you were to come again in the morning.'

He had opened the door a little wider as he spoke, and I saw by the
light of the lamp in the hall behind him that three other rough fellows
were standing there, one of whom held another of these monstrous hounds.
Duroc must have seen it also, but it made no difference to his
resolution.

'Enough talk,' said he, pushing the man to one side. 'It is with your
master that I have to deal.'

The fellows in the hall made way for him as he strode in among them, so
great is the power of one man who knows what he wants over several who
are not sure of themselves. My companion tapped one of them upon the
shoulder with as much assurance as though he owned him.

'Show me to the Baron,' said he.

The man shrugged his shoulders, and answered something in Polish. The
fellow with the beard, who had shut and barred the front door, appeared
to be the only one among them who could speak French.

'Well, you shall have your way,' said he, with a sinister smile. 'You
shall see the Baron. And perhaps, before you have finished, you will
wish that you had taken my advice.'

We followed him down the hall, which was stone-flagged and very
spacious, with skins scattered upon the floor, and the heads of wild
beasts upon the walls. At the farther end he threw open a door, and we
entered.

It was a small room, scantily furnished, with the same marks of neglect
and decay which met us at every turn. The walls were hung with
discoloured tapestry, which had come loose at one corner, so as to
expose the rough stonework behind. A second door, hung with a curtain,
faced us upon the other side. Between lay a square table, strewn with
dirty dishes and the sordid remains of a meal. Several bottles were
scattered over it. At the head of it, and facing us, there sat a huge
man with a lion-like head and a great shock of orange-coloured hair. His
beard was of the same glaring hue; matted and tangled and coarse as a
horse's mane. I have seen some strange faces in my time, but never one
more brutal than that, with its small, vicious, blue eyes, its white,
crumpled cheeks, and the thick, hanging lip which protruded over his
monstrous beard. His head swayed about on his shoulders, and he looked
at us with the vague, dim gaze of a drunken man. Yet he was not so drunk
but that our uniforms carried their message to him.

'Well, my brave boys,' he hiccoughed. 'What is the latest news from
Paris, eh? You're going to free Poland, I hear, and have meantime all
become slaves yourselves--slaves to a little aristocrat with his grey
coat and his three-cornered hat. No more citizens either, I am told, and
nothing but monsieur and madame. My faith, some more heads will have to
roll into the sawdust basket some of these mornings.'

Duroc advanced in silence, and stood by the ruffian's side.

'Jean Carabin,' said he.

The Baron started, and the film of drunkenness seemed to be clearing
from his eyes.

'Jean Carabin,' said Duroc, once more.

He sat up and grasped the arms of his chair.

'What do you mean by repeating that name, young man?' he asked.

'Jean Carabin, you are a man whom I have long wished to meet.'

'Supposing that I once had such a name, how can it concern you, since
you must have been a child when I bore it?'

'My name is Duroc.'

'Not the son of----?'

'The son of the man you murdered.'

The Baron tried to laugh, but there was terror in his eyes.

'We must let bygones be bygones, young man,' he cried. 'It was our life
or theirs in those days: the aristocrats or the people. Your father was
of the Gironde. He fell. I was of the mountain. Most of my comrades
fell. It was all the fortune of war. We must forget all this and learn
to know each other better, you and I.' He held out a red, twitching hand
as he spoke.

'Enough,' said young Duroc. 'If I were to pass my sabre through you as
you sit in that chair, I should do what is just and right. I dishonour
my blade by crossing it with yours. And yet you are a Frenchman, and
have even held a commission under the same flag as myself. Rise, then,
and defend yourself!'

'Tut, tut!' cried the Baron. 'It is all very well for you young
bloods--'

Duroc's patience could stand no more. He swung his open hand into the
centre of the great orange beard. I saw a lip fringed with blood, and
two glaring blue eyes above it.

'You shall die for that blow.'

'That is better,' said Duroc.

'My sabre!' cried the other. 'I will not keep you waiting, I promise
you!' and he hurried from the room.

I have said that there was a second door covered with a curtain. Hardly
had the Baron vanished when there ran from behind it a woman, young and
beautiful. So swiftly and noiselessly did she move that she was between
us in an instant, and it was only the shaking curtains which told us
whence she had come.

'I have seen it all,' she cried. 'Oh, sir, you have carried yourself
splendidly.' She stooped to my companion's hand, and kissed it again and
again ere he could disengage it from her grasp.

'Nay, madame, why should you kiss my hand?' he cried.

'Because it is the hand which struck him on his vile, lying mouth.
Because it may be the hand which will avenge my mother. I am his
step-daughter. The woman whose heart he broke was my mother. I loathe
him, I fear him. Ah, there is his step!' In an instant she had vanished
as suddenly as she had come. A moment later, the Baron entered with a
drawn sword in his hand, and the fellow who had admitted us at his
heels.

'This is my secretary,' said he. 'He will be my friend in this affair.
But we shall need more elbow-room than we can find here. Perhaps you
will kindly come with me to a more spacious apartment.'

It was evidently impossible to fight in a chamber which was blocked by a
great table. We followed him out, therefore, into the dimly-lit hall. At
the farther end a light was shining through an open door.

'We shall find what we want in here,' said the man with the dark beard.
It was a large, empty room, with rows of barrels and cases round the
walls. A strong lamp stood upon a shelf in the corner. The floor was
level and true, so that no swordsman could ask for more. Duroc drew his
sabre and sprang into it. The Baron stood back with a bow and motioned
me to follow my companion. Hardly were my heels over the threshold when
the heavy door crashed behind us and the key screamed in the lock. We
were taken in a trap.

For a moment we could not realize it. Such incredible baseness was
outside all our experiences. Then, as we understood how foolish we had
been to trust for an instant a man with such a history, a flush of rage
came over us, rage against his villainy and against our own stupidity.
We rushed at the door together, beating it with our fists and kicking
with our heavy boots. The sound of our blows and of our execrations must
have resounded through the Castle. We called to this villain, hurling at
him every name which might pierce even into his hardened soul. But the
door was enormous--such a door as one finds in mediaeval castles--made
of huge beams clamped together with iron. It was as easy to break as a
square of the Old Guard. And our cries appeared to be of as little avail
as our blows, for they only brought for answer the clattering echoes
from the high roof above us. When you have done some soldiering, you
soon learn to put up with what cannot be altered. It was I, then, who
first recovered my calmness, and prevailed upon Duroc to join with me in
examining the apartment which had become our dungeon.

There was only one window, which had no glass in it, and was so narrow
that one could not so much as get one's head through. It was high up,
and Duroc had to stand upon a barrel in order to see from it.

'What can you see?' I asked.

'Fir-woods and an avenue of snow between them,' said he. 'Ah!' he gave a
cry of surprise.

I sprang upon the barrel beside him. There was, as he said, a long,
clear strip of snow in front. A man was riding down it, flogging his
horse and galloping like a madman. As we watched, he grew smaller and
smaller, until he was swallowed up by the black shadows of the forest.

'What does that mean?' asked Duroc.

'No good for us,' said I. 'He may have gone for some brigands to cut
our throats. Let us see if we cannot find a way out of this mouse-trap
before the cat can arrive.'

The one piece of good fortune in our favour was that beautiful lamp. It
was nearly full of oil, and would last us until morning. In the dark our
situation would have been far more difficult. By its light we proceeded
to examine the packages and cases which lined the walls. In some places
there was only a single line of them, while in one corner they were
piled nearly to the ceiling. It seemed that we were in the storehouse of
the Castle, for there were a great number of cheeses, vegetables of
various kinds, bins full of dried fruits, and a line of wine barrels.
One of these had a spigot in it, and as I had eaten little during the
day, I was glad of a cup of claret and some food. As to Duroc, he would
take nothing, but paced up and down the room in a fever of anger and
impatience. 'I'll have him yet!' he cried, every now and then. 'The
rascal shall not escape me!'

This was all very well, but it seemed to me, as I sat on a great round
cheese eating my supper, that this youngster was thinking rather too
much of his own family affairs and too little of the fine scrape into
which he had got me. After all, his father had been dead fourteen years,
and nothing could set that right; but here was Etienne Gerard, the most
dashing lieutenant in the whole Grand Army, in imminent danger of being
cut off at the very outset of his brilliant career. Who was ever to know
the heights to which I might have risen if I were knocked on the head in
this hole-and-corner business, which had nothing whatever to do with
France or the Emperor? I could not help thinking what a fool I had been,
when I had a fine war before me and everything which a man could desire,
to go off on a hare-brained expedition of this sort, as if it were not
enough to have a quarter of a million Russians to fight against, without
plunging into all sorts of private quarrels as well.

'That is all very well,' I said at last, as I heard Duroc muttering his
threats. 'You may do what you like to him when you get the upper hand.
At present the question rather is, what is _he_ going to do to us?'

'Let him do his worst!' cried the boy. 'I owe a duty to my father.'

'That is mere foolishness,' said I. 'If you owe a duty to your father, I
owe one to my mother, which is to get out of this business safe and
sound.'

My remark brought him to his senses.

'I have thought too much of myself!' he cried. 'Forgive me, Monsieur
Gerard. Give me your advice as to what I should do.'

'Well,' said I, 'it is not for our health that they have shut us up here
among the cheeses. They mean to make an end of us if they can. That is
certain. They hope that no one knows that we have come here, and that
none will trace us if we remain. Do your hussars know where you have
gone to?'

'I said nothing.'

'Hum! It is clear that we cannot be starved here. They must come to us
if they are to kill us. Behind a barricade of barrels we could hold our
own against the five rascals whom we have seen. That is, probably, why
they have sent that messenger for assistance.'

'We must get out before he returns.'

'Precisely, if we are to get out at all.'

'Could we not burn down this door?' he cried.

'Nothing could be easier,' said I. 'There are several casks of oil in
the corner. My only objection is that we should ourselves be nicely
toasted, like two little oyster pâtés.'

'Can you not suggest something?' he cried, in despair. 'Ah, what is
that?'

There had been a low sound at our little window, and a shadow came
between the stars and ourselves. A small, white hand was stretched into
the lamplight. Something glittered between the fingers.

'Quick! quick!' cried a woman's voice.

We were on the barrel in an instant.

'They have sent for the Cossacks. Your lives are at stake. Ah, I am
lost! I am lost!'

There was the sound of rushing steps, a hoarse oath, a blow, and the
stars were once more twinkling through the window. We stood helpless
upon the barrel with our blood cold with horror. Half a minute
afterwards we heard a smothered scream, ending in a choke. A great door
slammed somewhere in the silent night.

'Those ruffians have seized her. They will kill her,' I cried.

Duroc sprang down with the inarticulate shouts of one whose reason has
left him. He struck the door so frantically with his naked hands that he
left a blotch of blood with every blow.

Here is the key!' I shouted, picking one from the floor. 'She must have
thrown it in at the instant that she was torn away.'

My companion snatched it from me with a shriek of joy. A moment later he
dashed it down upon the boards. It was so small that it was lost in the
enormous lock. Duroc sank upon one of the boxes with his head between
his hands. He sobbed in his despair. I could have sobbed, too, when I
thought of the woman and how helpless we were to save her.

But I am not easily baffled. After all, this key must have been sent to
us for a purpose. The lady could not bring us that of the door, because
this murderous step-father of hers would most certainly have it in his
pocket. Yet this other must have a meaning, or why should she risk her
life to place it in our hands? It would say little for our wits if we
could not find out what that meaning might be.

I set to work moving all the cases out from the wall, and Duroc, gaining
new hope from my courage, helped me with all his strength. It was no
light task, for many of them were large and heavy. On we went, working
like maniacs, slinging barrels, cheeses, and boxes pell-mell into the
middle of the room. At last there only remained one huge barrel of
vodka, which stood in the corner. With our united strength we rolled it
out, and there was a little low wooden door in the wainscot behind it.
The key fitted, and with a cry of delight we saw it swing open before
us. With the lamp in my hand, I squeezed my way in, followed by my
companion.

We were in the powder-magazine of the Castle--a rough, walled cellar,
with barrels all round it, and one with the top staved in in the centre.
The powder from it lay in a black heap upon the floor. Beyond there was
another door, but it was locked.

'We are no better off than before,' cried Duroc. 'We have no key.'

'We have a dozen!' I cried.

'Where?'

I pointed to the line of powder barrels.

'You would blow this door open?'

'Precisely.'

'But you would explode the magazine.'

It was true, but I was not at the end of my resources.

'We will blow open the store-room door,' I cried.

I ran back and seized a tin box which had been filled with candles. It
was about the size of my busby--large enough to hold several pounds of
powder. Duroc filled it while I cut off the end of a candle. When we had
finished, it would have puzzled a colonel of engineers to make a better
petard. I put three cheeses on the top of each other and placed it above
them, so as to lean against the lock. Then we lit our candle-end and ran
for shelter, shutting the door of the magazine behind us.

It is no joke, my friends, to be among all those tons of powder, with
the knowledge that if the flame of the explosion should penetrate
through one thin door our blackened limbs would be shot higher than the
Castle keep. Who could have believed that a half-inch of candle could
take so long to burn? My ears were straining all the time for the
thudding of the hoofs of the Cossacks who were coming to destroy us. I
had almost made up my mind that the candle must have gone out when there
was a smack like a bursting bomb, our door flew to bits, and pieces of
cheese, with a shower of turnips, apples, and splinters of cases, were
shot in among us. As we rushed out we had to stagger through an
impenetrable smoke, with all sorts of débris beneath our feet, but there
was a glimmering square where the dark door had been. The petard had
done its work.

In fact, it had done more for us than we had even ventured to hope. It
had shattered gaolers as well as gaol. The first thing that I saw as I
came out into the hall was a man with a butcher's axe in his hand, lying
flat upon his back, with a gaping wound across his forehead. The second
was a huge dog, with two of its legs broken, twisting in agony upon the
floor. As it raised itself up I saw the two broken ends flapping like
flails. At the same instant I heard a cry, and there was Duroc, thrown
against the wall, with the other hound's teeth in his throat. He pushed
it off with his left hand, while again and again he passed his sabre
through its body, but it was not until I blew out its brains with my
pistol that the iron jaws relaxed, and the fierce, bloodshot eyes were
glazed in death.

There was no time for us to pause. A woman's scream from in front--a
scream of mortal terror--told us that even now we might be too late.
There were two other men in the hall, but they cowered away from our
drawn swords and furious faces. The blood was streaming from Duroc's
neck and dyeing the grey fur of his pelisse. Such was the lad's fire,
however, that he shot in front of me, and it was only over his shoulder
that I caught a glimpse of the scene as we rushed into the chamber in
which we had first seen the master of the Castle of Gloom.

The Baron was standing in the middle of the room, his tangled mane
bristling like an angry lion. He was, as I have said, a huge man with
enormous shoulders; and as he stood there, with his face flushed with
rage and his sword advanced, I could not but think that, in spite of all
his villainies, he had a proper figure for a grenadier. The lady lay
cowering in a chair behind him. A weal across one of her white arms and
a dog-whip upon the floor were enough to show that our escape had hardly
been in time to save her from his brutality. He gave a howl like a wolf
as we broke in, and was upon us in an instant, hacking and driving, with
a curse at every blow.

I have already said that the room gave no space for swordsmanship. My
young companion was in front of me in the narrow passage between the
table and the wall, so that I could only look on without being able to
aid him. The lad knew something of his weapon, and was as fierce and
active as a wild cat, but in so narrow a space the weight and strength
of the giant gave him the advantage. Besides, he was an admirable
swordsman. His parade and riposte were as quick as lightning. Twice he
touched Duroc upon the shoulder, and then, as the lad slipped on a
lunge, he whirled up his sword to finish him before he could recover his
feet. I was quicker than he, however, and took the cut upon the pommel
of my sabre.

'Excuse me,' said I, 'but you have still to deal with Etienne Gerard.'

He drew back and leaned against the tapestry-covered wall, breathing in
little, hoarse gasps, for his foul living was against him.

'Take your breath,' said I. 'I will await your convenience.'

'You have no cause of quarrel against me,' he panted.

'I owe you some little attention,' said I, 'for having shut me up in
your store-room. Besides, if all other were wanting, I see cause enough
upon that lady's arm.'

'Have your way, then!' he snarled, and leaped at me like a madman. For
a minute I saw only the blazing blue eyes, and the red glazed point
which stabbed and stabbed, rasping off to right or to left, and yet ever
back at my throat and my breast. I had never thought that such good
sword-play was to be found at Paris in the days of the Revolution. I do
not suppose that in all my little affairs I have met six men who had a
better knowledge of their weapon. But he knew that I was his master. He
read death in my eyes, and I could see that he read it. The flush died
from his face. His breath came in shorter and in thicker gasps. Yet he
fought on, even after the final thrust had come, and died still hacking
and cursing, with foul cries upon his lips, and his blood clotting upon
his orange beard. I who speak to you have seen so many battles, that my
old memory can scarce contain their names, and yet of all the terrible
sights which these eyes have rested upon, there is none which I care to
think of less than of that orange beard with the crimson stain in the
centre, from which I had drawn my sword-point.

It was only afterwards that I had time to think of all this. His
monstrous body had hardly crashed down upon the floor before the woman
in the corner sprang to her feet, clapping her hands together and
screaming out in her delight. For my part I was disgusted to see a woman
take such delight in a deed of blood, and I gave no thought as to the
terrible wrongs which must have befallen her before she could so far
forget the gentleness of her sex. It was on my tongue to tell her
sharply to be silent, when a strange, choking smell took the breath from
my nostrils, and a sudden, yellow glare brought out the figures upon the
faded hangings.

'Duroc, Duroc!' I shouted, tugging at his shoulder. 'The Castle is on
fire!'

The boy lay senseless upon the ground, exhausted by his wounds. I rushed
out into the hall to see whence the danger came. It was our explosion
which had set alight to the dry frame-work of the door. Inside the
store-room some of the boxes were already blazing. I glanced in, and as
I did so my blood was turned to water by the sight of the powder barrels
beyond, and of the loose heap upon the floor. It might be seconds, it
could not be more than minutes, before the flames would be at the edge
of it. These eyes will be closed in death, my friends, before they cease
to see those crawling lines of fire and the black heap beyond.

How little I can remember what followed. Vaguely I can recall how I
rushed into the chamber of death, how I seized Duroc by one limp hand
and dragged him down the hall, the woman keeping pace with me and
pulling at the other arm. Out of the gateway we rushed, and on down the
snow-covered path until we were on the fringe of the fir forest. It was
at that moment that I heard a crash behind me, and, glancing round, saw
a great spout of fire shoot up into the wintry sky. An instant later
there seemed to come a second crash, far louder than the first. I saw
the fir trees and the stars whirling round me, and I fell unconscious
across the body of my comrade.

It was some weeks before I came to myself in the post-house of
Arensdorf, and longer still before I could be told all that had befallen
me. It was Duroc, already able to go soldiering, who came to my bedside
and gave me an account of it. He it was who told me how a piece of
timber had struck me on the head and laid me almost dead upon the
ground. From him, too, I learned how the Polish girl had run to
Arensdorf, how she had roused our hussars, and how she had only just
brought them back in time to save us from the spears of the Cossacks who
had been summoned from their bivouac by that same black-bearded
secretary whom we had seen galloping so swiftly over the snow. As to the
brave lady who had twice saved our lives, I could not learn very much
about her at that moment from Duroc, but when I chanced to meet him in
Paris two years later, after the campaign of Wagram, I was not very
much surprised to find that I needed no introduction to his bride, and
that by the queer turns of fortune he had himself, had he chosen to use
it, that very name and title of the Baron Straubenthal, which showed him
to be the owner of the blackened ruins of the Castle of Gloom.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote A: The term Brigadier is used throughout in its English and
not in its French sense.]

2. HOW THE BRIGADIER SLEW THE BROTHERS OF AJACCIO

When the Emperor needed an agent he was always very ready to do me the
honour of recalling the name of Etienne Gerard, though it occasionally
escaped him when rewards were to be distributed. Still, I was a colonel
at twenty-eight, and the chief of a brigade at thirty-one, so that I
have no reason to be dissatisfied with my career. Had the wars lasted
another two or three years I might have grasped my bâton, and the man
who had his hand upon that was only one stride from a throne. Murat had
changed his hussar's cap for a crown, and another light cavalry man
might have done as much. However, all those dreams were driven away by
Waterloo, and, although I was not able to write my name upon history, it
is sufficiently well known by all who served with me in the great wars
of the Empire.

What I want to tell you tonight is about the very singular affair which
first started me upon my rapid upward course, and which had the effect
of establishing a secret bond between the Emperor and myself.

There is just one little word of warning which I must give you before I
begin. When you hear me speak, you must always bear in mind that you are
listening to one who has seen history from the inside. I am talking
about what my ears have heard and my eyes have seen, so you must not try
to confute me by quoting the opinions of some student or man of the pen,
who has written a book of history or memoirs. There is much which is
unknown by such people, and much which never will be known by the world.
For my own part, I could tell you some very surprising things were it
discreet to do so. The facts which I am about to relate to you tonight
were kept secret by me during the Emperor's lifetime, because I gave
him my promise that it should be so, but I do not think that there can
be any harm now in my telling the remarkable part which I played.

You must know, then, that at the time of the Treaty of Tilsit I was a
simple lieutenant in the 10th Hussars, without money or interest. It is
true that my appearance and my gallantry were in my favour, and that I
had already won a reputation as being one of the best swordsmen in the
army; but amongst the host of brave men who surrounded the Emperor it
needed more than this to insure a rapid career. I was confident,
however, that my chance would come, though I never dreamed that it would
take so remarkable a form.

When the Emperor returned to Paris, after the declaration of peace in
the year 1807, he spent much of his time with the Empress and the Court
at Fontainebleau. It was the time when he was at the pinnacle of his
career. He had in three successive campaigns humbled Austria, crushed
Prussia, and made the Russians very glad to get upon the right side of
the Niemen. The old Bulldog over the Channel was still growling, but he
could not get very far from his kennel. If we could have made a
perpetual peace at that moment, France would have taken a higher place
than any nation since the days of the Romans. So I have heard the wise
folk say, though for my part I had other things to think of. All the
girls were glad to see the army back after its long absence, and you may
be sure that I had my share of any favours that were going. You may
judge how far I was a favourite in those days when I say that even now,
in my sixtieth year--but why should I dwell upon that which is already
sufficiently well known?

Our regiment of hussars was quartered with the horse chasseurs of the
guard at Fontainebleau. It is, as you know, but a little place, buried
in the heart of the forest, and it was wonderful at this time to see it
crowded with Grand Dukes and Electors and Princes, who thronged round
Napoleon like puppies round their master, each hoping that some bone
might be thrown to him. There was more German than French to be heard in
the street, for those who had helped us in the late war had come to beg
for a reward, and those who had opposed us had come to try and escape
their punishment.

And all the time our little man, with his pale face and his cold, grey
eyes, was riding to the hunt every morning, silent and brooding, all of
them following in his train, in the hope that some word would escape
him. And then, when the humour seized him, he would throw a hundred
square miles to that man, or tear as much off the other, round off one
kingdom by a river, or cut off another by a chain of mountains. That was
how he used to do business, this little artilleryman, whom we had raised
so high with our sabres and our bayonets. He was very civil to us
always, for he knew where his power came from. We knew also, and showed
it by the way in which we carried ourselves. We were agreed, you
understand, that he was the finest leader in the world, but we did not
forget that he had the finest men to lead.

Well, one day I was seated in my quarters playing cards with young
Morat, of the horse chasseurs, when the door opened and in walked
Lasalle, who was our Colonel. You know what a fine, swaggering fellow he
was, and the sky-blue uniform of the Tenth suited him to a marvel. My
faith, we youngsters were so taken by him that we all swore and diced
and drank and played the deuce whether we liked it or no, just that we
might resemble our Colonel! We forgot that it was not because he drank
or gambled that the Emperor was going to make him the head of the light
cavalry, but because he had the surest eye for the nature of a position
or for the strength of a column, and the best judgment as to when
infantry could be broken, or whether guns were exposed, of any man in
the army. We were too young to understand all that, however, so we
waxed our moustaches and clicked our spurs and let the ferrules of our
scabbards wear out by trailing them along the pavement in the hope that
we should all become Lasalles. When he came clanking into my quarters,
both Morat and I sprang to our feet.

'My boy,' said he, clapping me on the shoulder, 'the Emperor wants to
see you at four o'clock.'

The room whirled round me at the words, and I had to lean my hands upon
the edge of the card-table.

'What?' I cried. 'The Emperor!'

'Precisely,' said he, smiling at my astonishment.

'But the Emperor does not know of my existence, Colonel,' I protested.
'Why should he send for me?'

'Well, that's just what puzzles me,' cried Lasalle, twirling his
moustache. 'If he wanted the help of a good sabre, why should he descend
to one of my lieutenants when he might have found all that he needed at
the head of the regiment? However,' he added, clapping me on the
shoulder again in his hearty fashion, 'every man has his chance. I have
had mine, otherwise I should not be Colonel of the Tenth. I must not
grudge you yours. Forwards, my boy, and may it be the first step towards
changing your busby for a cocked hat.'

It was but two o'clock, so he left me, promising to come back and to
accompany me to the palace. My faith, what a time I passed, and how many
conjectures did I make as to what it was that the Emperor could want of
me! I paced up and down my little room in a fever of anticipation.
Sometimes I thought that perhaps he had heard of the guns which we had
taken at Austerlitz; but, then, there were so many who had taken guns at
Austerlitz, and two years had passed since the battle. Or it might be
that he wished to reward me for my affair with the _aide-de-camp_ of the
Russian Emperor. But then again a cold fit would seize me, and I would
fancy that he had sent for me to reprimand me. There were a few duels
which he might have taken in ill part, and there were one or two little
jokes in Paris since the peace.

But, no! I considered the words of Lasalle. 'If he had need of a brave
man,' said Lasalle.

It was obvious that my Colonel had some idea of what was in the wind. If
he had not known that it was to my advantage, he would not have been so
cruel as to congratulate me. My heart glowed with joy as this conviction
grew upon me, and I sat down to write to my mother and to tell her that
the Emperor was waiting, at that very moment, to have my opinion upon a
matter of importance. It made me smile as I wrote it to think that,
wonderful as it appeared to me, it would probably only confirm my mother
in her opinion of the Emperor's good sense.

At half-past three I heard a sabre come clanking against every step of
my wooden stair. It was Lasalle, and with him was a lame gentleman, very
neatly dressed in black with dapper ruffles and cuffs. We did not know
many civilians, we of the army, but, my word, this was one whom we could
not afford to ignore! I had only to glance at those twinkling eyes, the
comical, upturned nose, and the straight, precise mouth, to know that I
was in the presence of the one man in France whom even the Emperor had
to consider.

'This is Monsieur Etienne Gerard, Monsieur de Talleyrand,' said Lasalle.

I saluted, and the statesman took me in from the top of my panache to
the rowel of my spur, with a glance that played over me like a rapier
point.

'Have you explained to the lieutenant the circumstances under which he
is summoned to the Emperor's presence?' he asked, in his dry, creaking
voice.

They were such a contrast, these two men, that I could not help glancing
from one to the other of them: the black, sly politician, and the big,
sky-blue hussar with one fist on his hip and the other on the hilt of
his sabre. They both took their seats as I looked, Talleyrand without a
sound, and Lasalle with a clash and a jingle like a prancing charger.

'It's this way, youngster,' said he, in his brusque fashion; 'I was with
the Emperor in his private cabinet this morning when a note was brought
in to him. He opened it, and as he did so he gave such a start that it
fluttered down on to the floor. I handed it up to him again, but he was
staring at the wall in front of him as if he had seen a ghost. "Fratelli
dell' Ajaccio," he muttered; and then again, "Fratelli dell' Ajaccio." I
don't pretend to know more Italian than a man can pick up in two
campaigns, and I could make nothing of this. It seemed to me that he had
gone out of his mind; and you would have said so also, Monsieur de
Talleyrand, if you had seen the look in his eyes. He read the note, and
then he sat for half an hour or more without moving.'

'And you?' asked Talleyrand.

'Why, I stood there not knowing what I ought to do. Presently he seemed
to come back to his senses.

'"I suppose, Lasalle," said he, "that you have some gallant young
officers in the Tenth?"

'"They are all that, sire," I answered.

'"If you had to pick one who was to be depended upon for action, but who
would not think too much--you understand me, Lasalle--which would you
select?" he asked.

'I saw that he needed an agent who would not penetrate too deeply into
his plans.

'"I have one," said I, "who is all spurs and moustaches, with never a
thought beyond women and horses."

'"That is the man I want," said Napoleon. "Bring him to my private
cabinet at four o'clock."

'So, youngster, I came straight away to you at once, and mind that you
do credit to the 10th Hussars.'

I was by no means flattered by the reasons which had led to my Colonel's
choice, and I must have shown as much in my face, for he roared with
laughter and Talleyrand gave a dry chuckle also.

'Just one word of advice before you go, Monsieur Gerard,' said he: 'you
are now coming into troubled waters, and you might find a worse pilot
than myself. We have none of us any idea as to what this little affair
means, and, between ourselves, it is very important for us, who have the
destinies of France upon our shoulders, to keep ourselves in touch with
all that goes on. You understand me, Monsieur Gerard?'

I had not the least idea what he was driving at, but I bowed and tried
to look as if it was clear to me.

'Act very guardedly, then, and say nothing to anybody,' said Talleyrand.
'Colonel de Lasalle and I will not show ourselves in public with you,
but we will await you here, and we will give you our advice when you
have told us what has passed between the Emperor and yourself. It is
time that you started now, for the Emperor never forgives
unpunctuality.'

Off I went on foot to the palace, which was only a hundred paces off. I
made my way to the ante-chamber, where Duroc, with his grand new scarlet
and gold coat, was fussing about among the crowd of people who were
waiting. I heard him whisper to Monsieur de Caulaincourt that half of
them were German Dukes who expected to be made Kings, and the other half
German Dukes who expected to be made paupers. Duroc, when he heard my
name, showed me straight in, and I found myself in the Emperor's
presence.

I had, of course, seen him in camp a hundred times, but I had never been
face to face with him before. I have no doubt that if you had met him
without knowing in the least who he was, you would simply have said that
he was a sallow little fellow with a good forehead and fairly
well-turned calves. His tight white cashmere breeches and white
stockings showed off his legs to advantage. But even a stranger must
have been struck by the singular look of his eyes, which could harden
into an expression which would frighten a grenadier. It is said that
even Auguereau, who was a man who had never known what fear was, quailed
before Napoleon's gaze, at a time, too, when the Emperor was but an
unknown soldier. He looked mildly enough at me, however, and motioned me
to remain by the door. De Meneval was writing to his dictation, looking
up at him between each sentence with his spaniel eyes.

'That will do. You can go,' said the Emperor, abruptly. Then, when the
secretary had left the room, he strode across with his hands behind his
back, and he looked me up and down without a word. Though he was a small
man himself, he was very fond of having fine-looking fellows about him,
and so I think that my appearance gave him pleasure. For my own part, I
raised one hand to the salute and held the other upon the hilt of my
sabre, looking straight ahead of me, as a soldier should.

'Well, Monsieur Gerard,' said he, at last, tapping his forefinger upon
one of the brandebourgs of gold braid upon the front of my pelisse, 'I
am informed that you are a very deserving young officer. Your Colonel
gives me an excellent account of you.'

I wished to make a brilliant reply, but I could think of nothing save
Lasalle's phrase that I was all spurs and moustaches, so it ended in my
saying nothing at all. The Emperor watched the struggle which must have
shown itself upon my features, and when, finally, no answer came he did
not appear to be displeased.

'I believe that you are the very man that I want,' said he. 'Brave and
clever men surround me upon every side. But a brave man who----' He did
not finish his sentence, and for my own part I could not understand what
he was driving at. I contented myself with assuring him that he could
count upon me to the death.

'You are, as I understand, a good swordsman?' said he.

'Tolerable, sire,' I answered.

'You were chosen by your regiment to fight the champion of the Hussars
of Chambarant?' said he.

I was not sorry to find that he knew so much of my exploits.

'My comrades, sire, did me that honour,' said I.

'And for the sake of practice you insulted six fencing masters in the
week before your duel?'

'I had the privilege of being out seven times in as many days, sire,'
said I.

'And escaped without a scratch?'

'The fencing master of the 23rd Light Infantry touched me on the left
elbow, sire.'

'Let us have no more child's play of the sort, monsieur,' he cried,
turning suddenly to that cold rage of his which was so appalling. 'Do
you imagine that I place veteran soldiers in these positions that you
may practise quarte and tierce upon them? How am I to face Europe if my
soldiers turn their points upon each other? Another word of your
duelling, and I break you between these fingers.'

I saw his plump white hands flash before my eyes as he spoke, and his
voice had turned to the most discordant hissing and growling. My word,
my skin pringled all over as I listened to him, and I would gladly have
changed my position for that of the first man in the steepest and
narrowest breach that ever swallowed up a storming party. He turned to
the table, drank off a cup of coffee, and then when he faced me again
every trace of this storm had vanished, and he wore that singular smile
which came from his lips but never from his eyes.

'I have need of your services, Monsieur Gerard,' said he. 'I may be
safer with a good sword at my side, and there are reasons why yours
should be the one which I select. But first of all I must bind you to
secrecy. Whilst I live what passes between us today must be known to
none but ourselves.'

I thought of Talleyrand and of Lasalle, but I promised.

'In the next place, I do not want your opinions or conjectures, and I
wish you to do exactly what you are told.'

I bowed.

'It is your sword that I need, and not your brains. I will do the
thinking. Is that clear to you?'

'Yes, sire.'

'You know the Chancellor's Grove, in the forest?'

I bowed.

'You know also the large double fir-tree where the hounds assembled on
Tuesday?'

Had he known that I met a girl under it three times a week, he would not
have asked me. I bowed once more without remark.

'Very good. You will meet me there at ten o'clock tonight.'

I had got past being surprised at anything which might happen. If he had
asked me to take his place upon the imperial throne I could only have
nodded my busby.

'We shall then proceed into the wood together,' said the Emperor. 'You
will be armed with a sword, but not with pistols. You must address no
remark to me, and I shall say nothing to you. We will advance in
silence. You understand?'

'I understand, sire.'

'After a time we shall see a man, or more probably two men, under a
certain tree. We shall approach them together. If I signal to you to
defend me, you will have your sword ready. If, on the other hand, I
speak to these men, you will wait and see what happens. If you are
called upon to draw, you must see that neither of them, in the event of
there being two, escapes from us. I shall myself assist you.'

'Sire,' I cried, 'I have no doubt that two would not be too many for my
sword; but would it not be better that I should bring a comrade than
that you should be forced to join in such a struggle?'

'Ta, ta, ta,' said he. 'I was a soldier before I was an Emperor. Do you
think, then, that artillerymen have not swords as well as the hussars?
But I ordered you not to argue with me. You will do exactly what I tell
you. If swords are once out, neither of these men is to get away alive.'

'They shall not, sire,' said I.

'Very good. I have no more instructions for you. You can go.'

I turned to the door, and then an idea occurring to me I turned.

'I have been thinking, sire--' said I.

He sprang at me with the ferocity of a wild beast. I really thought he
would have struck me.

'Thinking!' he cried. 'You, _you_! Do you imagine I chose you out
because you could think? Let me hear of your doing such a thing again!
You, the one man--but, there! You meet me at the fir-tree at ten
o'clock.'

My faith, I was right glad to get out of the room. If I have a good
horse under me, and a sword clanking against my stirrup-iron, I know
where I am. And in all that relates to green fodder or dry, barley and
oats and rye, and the handling of squadrons upon the march, there is no
one who can teach me very much. But when I meet a Chamberlain and a
Marshal of the Palace, and have to pick my words with an Emperor, and
find that everybody hints instead of talking straight out, I feel like a
troop-horse who has been put in a lady's calèche. It is not my trade,
all this mincing and pretending. I have learned the manners of a
gentleman, but never those of a courtier. I was right glad then to get
into the fresh air again, and I ran away up to my quarters like a
schoolboy who has just escaped from the seminary master.

But as I opened the door, the very first thing that my eye rested upon
was a long pair of sky-blue legs with hussar boots, and a short pair of
black ones with knee breeches and buckles. They both sprang up together
to greet me.

'Well, what news?' they cried, the two of them.

'None,' I answered.

'The Emperor refused to see you?'

'No, I have seen him.'

'And what did he say?'

'Monsieur de Talleyrand,' I answered, 'I regret to say that it is quite
impossible for me to tell you anything about it. I have promised the
Emperor.'

'Pooh, pooh, my dear young man,' said he, sidling up to me, as a cat
does when it is about to rub itself against you. 'This is all among
friends, you understand, and goes no farther than these four walls.
Besides, the Emperor never meant to include me in this promise.'

'It is but a minute's walk to the palace, Monsieur de Talleyrand,' I
answered; 'if it would not be troubling you too much to ask you to step
up to it and bring back the Emperor's written statement that he did not
mean to include you in this promise, I shall be happy to tell you every
word that passed.'

He showed his teeth at me then like the old fox that he was.

'Monsieur Gerard appears to be a little puffed up,' said he. 'He is too
young to see things in their just proportion. As he grows older he may
understand that it is not always very discreet for a subaltern of
cavalry to give such very abrupt refusals.'

I did not know what to say to this, but Lasalle came to my aid in his
downright fashion.

'The lad is quite right,' said he. 'If I had known that there was a
promise I should not have questioned him. You know very well, Monsieur
de Talleyrand, that if he had answered you, you would have laughed in
your sleeve and thought as much about him as I think of the bottle when
the burgundy is gone. As for me, I promise you that the Tenth would have
had no room for him, and that we should have lost our best swordsman if
I had heard him give up the Emperor's secret.'

But the statesman became only the more bitter when he saw that I had
the support of my Colonel.

'I have heard, Colonel de Lasalle,' said he, with an icy dignity, 'that
your opinion is of great weight upon the subject of light cavalry.
Should I have occasion to seek information about that branch of the
army, I shall be very happy to apply to you. At present, however, the
matter concerns diplomacy, and you will permit me to form my own views
upon that question. As long as the welfare of France and the safety of
the Emperor's person are largely committed to my care, I will use every
means in my power to secure them, even if it should be against the
Emperor's own temporary wishes. I have the honour, Colonel de Lasalle,
to wish you a very good-day!'

He shot a most unamiable glance in my direction, and, turning upon his
heel, he walked with little, quick, noiseless steps out of the room.

I could see from Lasalle's face that he did not at all relish finding
himself at enmity with the powerful Minister. He rapped out an oath or
two, and then, catching up his sabre and his cap, he clattered away down
the stairs. As I looked out of the window I saw the two of them, the big
blue man and the limping black one, going up the street together.
Talleyrand was walking very rigidly, and Lasalle was waving his hands
and talking, so I suppose he was trying to make his peace.

The Emperor had told me not to think, and I endeavoured to obey him. I
took up the cards from the table where Morat had left them, and I tried
to work out a few combinations at écarté. But I could not remember which
were trumps, and I threw them under the table in despair. Then I drew my
sabre and practised giving point until I was weary, but it was all of no
use at all. My mind _would_ work, in spite of myself. At ten o'clock I
was to meet the Emperor in the forest. Of all extraordinary combinations
of events in the whole world, surely this was the last which would have
occurred to me when I rose from my couch that morning. But the
responsibility--- the dreadful responsibility! It was all upon my
shoulders. There was no one to halve it with me. It made me cold all
over. Often as I have faced death upon the battle-field, I have never
known what real fear was until that moment. But then I considered that
after all I could but do my best like a brave and honourable gentleman,
and above all obey the orders which I had received, to the very letter.
And, if all went well, this would surely be the foundation of my
fortunes. Thus, swaying between my fears and my hopes, I spent the long,
long evening until it was time to keep my appointment.

I put on my military overcoat, as I did not know how much of the night I
might have to spend in the woods, and I fastened my sword outside it. I
pulled off my hussar boots also, and wore a pair of shoes and gaiters,
that I might be lighter upon my feet. Then I stole out of my quarters
and made for the forest, feeling very much easier in my mind, for I am
always at my best when the time of thought has passed and the moment for
action arrived.

I passed the barracks of the Chasseurs of the Guards, and the line of
cafes all filled with uniforms. I caught a glimpse as I went by of the
blue and gold of some of my comrades, amid the swarm of dark infantry
coats and the light green of the Guides. There they sat, sipping their
wine and smoking their cigars, little dreaming what their comrade had on
hand. One of them, the chief of my squadron, caught sight of me in the
lamplight, and came shouting after me into the street. I hurried on,
however, pretending not to hear him, so he, with a curse at my deafness,
went back at last to his wine bottle.

It is not very hard to get into the forest at Fontainebleau. The
scattered trees steal their way into the very streets, like the
tirailleurs in front of a column. I turned into a path, which led to the
edge of the woods, and then I pushed rapidly forward towards the old
fir-tree. It was a place which, as I have hinted, I had my own reasons
for knowing well, and I could only thank the Fates that it was not one
of the nights upon which Léonie would be waiting for me. The poor child
would have died of terror at sight of the Emperor. He might have been
too harsh with her--and worse still, he might have been too kind.

There was a half moon shining, and, as I came up to our trysting-place,
I saw that I was not the first to arrive. The Emperor was pacing up and
down, his hands behind him and his face sunk somewhat forward upon his
breast. He wore a grey great-coat with a capote over his head. I had
seen him in such a dress in our winter campaign in Poland, and it was
said that he used it because the hood was such an excellent disguise. He
was always fond, whether in the camp or in Paris, of walking round at
night, and overhearing the talk in the cabarets or round the fires. His
figure, however, and his way of carrying his head and his hands were so
well known that he was always recognized, and then the talkers would say
whatever they thought would please him best.

My first thought was that he would be angry with me for having kept him
waiting, but as I approached him, we heard the big church clock of
Fontainebleau clang out the hour of ten. It was evident, therefore, that
it was he who was too soon, and not I too late. I remembered his order
that I should make no remark, so contented myself with halting within
four paces of him, clicking my spurs together, grounding my sabre, and
saluting. He glanced at me, and then without a word he turned and walked
slowly through the forest, I keeping always about the same distance
behind him. Once or twice he seemed to me to look apprehensively to
right and to left, as if he feared that someone was observing us. I
looked also, but although I have the keenest sight, it was quite
impossible to see anything except the ragged patches of moonshine
between the great black shadows of the trees. My ears are as quick as
my eyes, and once or twice I thought that I heard a twig crack; but you
know how many sounds there are in a forest at night, and how difficult
it is even to say what direction they come from.

We walked for rather more than a mile, and I knew exactly what our
destination was, long before we got there. In the centre of one of the
glades, there is the shattered stump of what must at some time have been
a most gigantic tree. It is called the Abbot's Beech, and there are so
many ghostly stories about it, that I know many a brave soldier who
would not care about mounting sentinel over it. However, I cared as
little for such folly as the Emperor did, so we crossed the glade and
made straight for the old broken trunk. As we approached, I saw that two
men were waiting for us beneath it.

When I first caught sight of them they were standing rather behind it,
as if they were not anxious to be seen, but as we came nearer they
emerged from its shadow and walked forward to meet us. The Emperor
glanced back at me, and slackened his pace a little so that I came
within arm's length of him. You may think that I had my hilt well to the
front, and that I had a very good look at these two people who were
approaching us.

The one was tall, remarkably so, and of very spare frame, while the
other was rather below the usual height, and had a brisk, determined way
of walking. They each wore black cloaks, which were slung right across
their figures, and hung down upon one side, like the mantles of Murat's
dragoons. They had flat black caps, like those I have since seen in
Spain, which threw their faces into darkness, though I could see the
gleam of their eyes from beneath them. With the moon behind them and
their long black shadows walking in front, they were such figures as one
might expect to meet at night near the Abbot's Beech. I can remember
that they had a stealthy way of moving, and that as they approached, the
moonshine formed two white diamonds between their legs and the legs of
their shadows.

The Emperor had paused, and these two strangers came to a stand also
within a few paces of us. I had drawn up close to my companion's elbow,
so that the four of us were facing each other without a word spoken. My
eyes were particularly fixed upon the taller one, because he was
slightly the nearer to me, and I became certain as I watched him that he
was in the last state of nervousness. His lean figure was quivering all
over, and I heard a quick, thin panting like that of a tired dog.
Suddenly one of them gave a short, hissing signal. The tall man bent his
back and his knees like a diver about to spring, but before he could
move, I had jumped with drawn sabre in front of him. At the same instant
the smaller man bounded past me, and buried a long poniard in the
Emperor's heart.

My God! the horror of that moment! It is a marvel that I did not drop
dead myself. As in a dream, I saw the grey coat whirl convulsively
round, and caught a glimpse in the moonlight of three inches of red
point which jutted out from between the shoulders. Then down he fell
with a dead man's gasp upon the grass, and the assassin, leaving his
weapon buried in his victim, threw up both his hands and shrieked with
joy. But I--I drove my sword through his midriff with such frantic
force, that the mere blow of the hilt against the end of his breast-bone
sent him six paces before he fell, and left my reeking blade ready for
the other. I sprang round upon him with such a lust for blood upon me as
I had never felt, and never have felt, in all my days. As I turned, a
dagger flashed before my eyes, and I felt the cold wind of it pass my
neck and the villain's wrist jar upon my shoulder. I shortened my sword,
but he winced away from me, and an instant afterwards was in full
flight, bounding like a deer across the glade in the moonlight.

But he was not to escape me thus. I knew that the murderer's poniard
had done its work. Young as I was, I had seen enough of war to know a
mortal blow. I paused but for an instant to touch the cold hand.

'Sire! Sire!' I cried, in an agony; and then as no sound came back and
nothing moved, save an ever-widening dark circle in the moonlight, I
knew that all was indeed over. I sprang madly to my feet, threw off my
great-coat, and ran at the top of my speed after the remaining assassin.

Ah, how I blessed the wisdom which had caused me to come in shoes and
gaiters! And the happy thought which had thrown off my coat. He could
not get rid of his mantle, this wretch, or else he was too frightened to
think of it. So it was that I gained upon him from the beginning. He
must have been out of his wits, for he never tried to bury himself in
the darker parts of the woods, but he flew on from glade to glade, until
he came to the heath-land which leads up to the great Fontainebleau
quarry. There I had him in full sight, and knew that he could not escape
me. He ran well, it is true--ran as a coward runs when his life is the
stake. But I ran as Destiny runs when it gets behind a man's heels. Yard
by yard I drew in upon him. He was rolling and staggering. I could hear
the rasping and crackling of his breath. The great gulf of the quarry
suddenly yawned in front of his path, and glancing at me over his
shoulder, he gave a shriek of despair. The next instant he had vanished
from my sight.

Vanished utterly, you understand. I rushed to the spot, and gazed down
into the black abyss. Had he hurled himself over? I had almost made up
my mind that he had done so, when a gentle sound rising and falling came
out of the darkness beneath me. It was his breathing once more, and it
showed me where he must be. He was hiding in the tool-house.

At the edge of the quarry and beneath the summit there is a small
platform upon which stands a wooden hut for the use of the labourers.
It was into this, then, that he had darted. Perhaps he had thought, the
fool, that, in the darkness, I would not venture to follow him. He
little knew Etienne Gerard. With a spring I was on the platform, with
another I was through the doorway, and then, hearing him in the corner,
I hurled myself down upon the top of him.

He fought like a wild cat, but he never had a chance with his shorter
weapon. I think that I must have transfixed him with that first mad
lunge, for, though he struck and struck, his blows had no power in them,
and presently his dagger tinkled down upon the floor. When I was sure
that he was dead, I rose up and passed out into the moonlight. I climbed
on to the heath again, and wandered across it as nearly out of my mind
as a man could be.

With the blood singing in my ears, and my naked sword still clutched in
my hand, I walked aimlessly on until, looking round me, I found that I
had come as far as the glade of the Abbot's Beech, and saw in the
distance that gnarled stump which must ever be associated with the most
terrible moment of my life. I sat down upon a fallen trunk with my sword
across my knees and my head between my hands, and I tried to think about
what had happened and what would happen in the future.

The Emperor had committed himself to my care. The Emperor was dead.
Those were the two thoughts which clanged in my head, until I had no
room for any other ones. He had come with me and he was dead. I had done
what he had ordered when living. I had revenged him when dead. But what
of all that? The world would look upon me as responsible. They might
even look upon me as the assassin. What could I prove? What witnesses
had I? Might I not have been the accomplice of these wretches? Yes, yes,
I was eternally dishonoured--the lowest, most despicable creature in all
France. This, then, was the end of my fine military ambitions--of the
hopes of my mother. I laughed bitterly at the thought. And what was I
to do now? Was I to go into Fontainebleau, to wake up the palace, and to
inform them that the great Emperor had been murdered within a pace of
me? I could not do it--no, I could not do it! There was but one course
for an honourable gentleman whom Fate had placed in so cruel a position.
I would fall upon my dishonoured sword, and so share, since I could not
avert, the Emperor's fate. I rose with my nerves strung to this last
piteous deed, and as I did so, my eyes fell upon something which struck
the breath from my lips. The Emperor was standing before me!

He was not more than ten yards off, with the moon shining straight upon
his cold, pale face. He wore his grey overcoat, but the hood was turned
back, and the front open, so that I could see the green coat of the
Guides, and the white breeches. His hands were clasped behind his back,
and his chin sunk forward upon his breast, in the way that was usual
with him.

'Well,' said he, in his hardest and most abrupt voice, 'what account do
you give of yourself?'

I believe that, if he had stood in silence for another minute, my brain
would have given way. But those sharp military accents were exactly what
I needed to bring me to myself. Living or dead, here was the Emperor
standing before me and asking me questions. I sprang to the salute.

'You have killed one, I see,' said he, jerking his head towards the
beech.

'Yes, sire.'

'And the other escaped?'

'No, sire, I killed him also.'

'What!' he cried. 'Do I understand that you have killed them both?' He
approached me as he spoke with a smile which set his teeth gleaming in
the moonlight.

'One body lies there, sire,' I answered. 'The other is in the tool-house
at the quarry.'

'Then the Brothers of Ajaccio are no more,' he cried, and after a
pause, as if speaking to himself: 'The shadow has passed me for ever.'
Then he bent forward and laid his hand upon my shoulder.

'You have done very well, my young friend,' said he. 'You have lived up
to your reputation.'

He was flesh and blood, then, this Emperor. I could feel the little,
plump palm that rested upon me. And yet I could not get over what I had
seen with my own eyes, and so I stared at him in such bewilderment that
he broke once more into one of his smiles.

'No, no, Monsieur Gerard,' said he, 'I am not a ghost, and you have not
seen me killed. You will come here, and all will be clear to you.'

He turned as he spoke, and led the way towards the great beech stump.

The bodies were still lying upon the ground, and two men were standing
beside them. As we approached I saw from the turbans that they were
Roustem and Mustafa, the two Mameluke servants. The Emperor paused when
he came to the grey figure upon the ground, and turning back the hood
which shrouded the features, he showed a face which was very different
from his own.

'Here lies a faithful servant who has given up his life for his master,'
said he. 'Monsieur de Goudin resembles me in figure and in manner, as
you must admit.'

What a delirium of joy came upon me when these few words made everything
clear to me. He smiled again as he saw the delight which urged me to
throw my arms round him and to embrace him, but he moved a step away, as
if he had divined my impulse.

'You are unhurt?' he asked.

'I am unhurt, sire. But in another minute I should in my despair----'

'Tut, tut!' he interrupted. 'You did very well. He should himself have
been more on his guard. I saw everything which passed.'

'You saw it, sire!'

'You did not hear me follow you through the wood, then? I hardly lost
sight of you from the moment that you left your quarters until poor De
Goudin fell. The counterfeit Emperor was in front of you and the real
one behind. You will now escort me back to the palace.'

He whispered an order to his Mamelukes, who saluted in silence and
remained where they were standing. For my part, I followed the Emperor
with my pelisse bursting with pride. My word, I have always carried
myself as a hussar should, but Lasalle himself never strutted and swung
his dolman as I did that night. Who should clink his spurs and clatter
his sabre if it were not I--I, Etienne Gerard--the confidant of the
Emperor, the chosen swordsman of the light cavalry, the man who slew the
would-be assassins of Napoleon? But he noticed my bearing and turned
upon me like a blight.

'Is that the way you carry yourself on a secret mission?' he hissed,
with that cold glare in his eyes. 'Is it thus that you will make your
comrades believe that nothing remarkable has occurred? Have done with
this nonsense, monsieur, or you will find yourself transferred to the
sappers, where you would have harder work and duller plumage.'

That was the way with the Emperor. If ever he thought that anyone might
have a claim upon him, he took the first opportunity to show him the
gulf that lay between. I saluted and was silent, but I must confess to
you that it hurt me after all that had passed between us. He led on to
the palace, where we passed through the side door and up into his own
cabinet. There were a couple of grenadiers at the staircase, and their
eyes started out from under their fur caps, I promise you, when they saw
a young lieutenant of hussars going up to the Emperor's room at
midnight. I stood by the door, as I had done in the afternoon, while he
flung himself down in an arm-chair, and remained silent so long that it
seemed to me that he had forgotten all about me. I ventured at last upon
a slight cough to remind him.

'Ah, Monsieur Gerard,' said he, 'you are very curious, no doubt, as to
the meaning of all this?'

'I am quite content, sire, if it is your pleasure not to tell me,' I
answered.

'Ta, ta, ta,' said he impatiently. 'These are only words. The moment
that you were outside that door you would begin making inquiries about
what it means. In two days your brother officers would know about it, in
three days it would be all over Fontainebleau, and it would be in Paris
on the fourth. Now, if I tell you enough to appease your curiosity,
there is some reasonable hope that you may be able to keep the matter to
yourself.'

He did not understand me, this Emperor, and yet I could only bow and be
silent.

'A few words will make it clear to you,' said he, speaking very swiftly
and pacing up and down the room. 'They were Corsicans, these two men. I
had known them in my youth. We had belonged to the same
society--Brothers of Ajaccio, as we called ourselves. It was founded in
the old Paoli days, you understand, and we had some strict rules of our
own which were not infringed with impunity.'

A very grim look came over his face as he spoke, and it seemed to me
that all that was French had gone out of him, and that it was the pure
Corsican, the man of strong passions and of strange revenges, who stood
before me. His memory had gone back to those early days of his, and for
five minutes, wrapped in thought, he paced up and down the room with his
quick little tiger steps. Then with an impatient wave of his hands he
came back to his palace and to me.

'The rules of such a society,' he continued, 'are all very well for a
private citizen. In the old days there was no more loyal brother than I.
But circumstances change, and it would be neither for my welfare nor
for that of France that I should now submit myself to them. They wanted
to hold me to it, and so brought their fate upon their own heads. These
were the two chiefs of the order, and they had come from Corsica to
summon me to meet them at the spot which they named. I knew what such a
summons meant. No man had ever returned from obeying one. On the other
hand, if I did not go, I was sure that disaster would follow. I am a
brother myself, you remember, and I know their ways.'

Again there came that hardening of his mouth and cold glitter of his
eyes.

'You perceive my dilemma, Monsieur Gerard,' said he. 'How would you have
acted yourself, under such circumstances?'

'Given the word to the l0th Hussars, sire,' I cried. 'Patrols could have
swept the woods from end to end, and brought these two rascals to your
feet.'

He smiled, but he shook his head.

'I had very excellent reasons why I did not wish them taken alive,' said
he. 'You can understand that an assassin's tongue might be as dangerous
a weapon as an assassin's dagger. I will not disguise from you that I
wished to avoid scandal at all cost. That was why I ordered you to take
no pistols with you. That also is why my Mamelukes will remove all
traces of the affair, and nothing more will be heard about it. I thought
of all possible plans, and I am convinced that I selected the best one.
Had I sent more than one guard with De Goudin into the woods, then the
brothers would not have appeared. They would not change their plans nor
miss their chance for the sake of a single man. It was Colonel Lasalle's
accidental presence at the moment when I received the summons which led
to my choosing one of his hussars for the mission. I selected you,
Monsieur Gerard, because I wanted a man who could handle a sword, and
who would not pry more deeply into the affair than I desired. I trust
that, in this respect, you will justify my choice as well as you have
done in your bravery and skill.'

'Sire,' I answered, 'you may rely upon it.'

'As long as I live,' said he, 'you never open your lips upon this
subject.'

'I dismiss it entirely from my mind, sire. I will efface it from my
recollection as if it had never been. I will promise you to go out of
your cabinet at this moment exactly as I was when I entered it at four
o'clock.'

'You cannot do that,' said the Emperor, smiling. 'You were a lieutenant
at that time. You will permit me, Captain, to wish you a very
good-night.'

3. HOW THE BRIGADIER HELD THE KING

Here, upon the lapel of my coat, you may see the ribbon of my
decoration, but the medal itself I keep in a leathern pouch at home, and
I never venture to take it out unless one of the modern peace generals,
or some foreigner of distinction who finds himself in our little town,
takes advantage of the opportunity to pay his respects to the well-known
Brigadier Gerard. Then I place it upon my breast, and I give my
moustache the old Marengo twist which brings a grey point into either
eye. Yet with it all I fear that neither they, nor you either, my
friends, will ever realize the man that I was. You know me only as a
civilian--with an air and a manner, it is true--but still merely as a
civilian. Had you seen me as I stood in the doorway of the inn at Alamo,
on the 1st of July, in the year 1810, you would then have known what the
hussar may attain to.

For a month I had lingered in that accursed village, and all on account
of a lance-thrust in my ankle, which made it impossible for me to put my
foot to the ground. There were three besides myself at first: old
Bouvet, of the Hussars of Bercheny, Jacques Regnier, of the Cuirassiers,
and a funny little voltigeur captain whose name I forget; but they all
got well and hurried on to the front, while I sat gnawing my fingers and
tearing my hair, and even, I must confess, weeping from time to time as
I thought of my Hussars of Conflans, and the deplorable condition in
which they must find themselves when deprived of their colonel. I was
not a chief of brigade yet, you understand, although I already carried
myself like one, but I was the youngest colonel in the whole service,
and my regiment was wife and children to me. It went to my heart that
they should be so bereaved. It is true that Villaret, the senior major,
was an excellent soldier; but still, even among the best there are
degrees of merit.

Ah, that happy July day of which I speak, when first I limped to the
door and stood in the golden Spanish sunshine! It was but the evening
before that I had heard from the regiment. They were at Pastores, on the
other side of the mountains, face to face with the English--not forty
miles from me by road. But how was I to get to them? The same thrust
which had pierced my ankle had slain my charger. I took advice both from
Gomez, the landlord, and from an old priest who had slept that night in
the inn, but neither of them could do more than assure me that there was
not so much as a colt left upon the whole countryside.

The landlord would not hear of my crossing the mountains without an
escort, for he assured me that El Cuchillo, the Spanish guerilla chief,
was out that way with his band, and that it meant a death by torture to
fall into his hands. The old priest observed, however, that he did not
think a French hussar would be deterred by that, and if I had had any
doubts, they would of course have been decided by his remark.

But a horse! How was I to get one? I was standing in the doorway,
plotting and planning, when I heard the clink of shoes, and, looking up,
I saw a great bearded man, with a blue cloak frogged across in military
fashion, coming towards me. He was riding a big black horse with one
white stocking on his near fore-leg.

'Halloa, comrade!' said I, as he came up to me.

'Halloa!' said he.

'I am Colonel Gerard, of the Hussars,' said I. 'I have lain here wounded
for a month, and I am now ready to rejoin my regiment at Pastores.'

'I am Monsieur Vidal, of the commissariat,' he answered, 'and I am
myself upon my way to Pastores. I should be glad to have your company,
Colonel, for I hear that the mountains are far from safe.'

'Alas,' said I, 'I have no horse. But if you will sell me yours, I will
promise that an escort of hussars shall be sent back for you.'

He would not hear of it, and it was in vain that the landlord told him
dreadful stories of the doings of El Cuchillo, and that I pointed out
the duty which he owed to the army and to the country. He would not even
argue, but called loudly for a cup of wine. I craftily asked him to
dismount and to drink with me, but he must have seen something in my
face, for he shook his head; and then, as I approached him with some
thought of seizing him by the leg, he jerked his heels into his horse's
flanks, and was off in a cloud of dust.

My faith! it was enough to make a man mad to see this fellow riding away
so gaily to join his beef-barrels, and his brandy-casks, and then to
think of my five hundred beautiful hussars without their leader. I was
gazing after him with bitter thoughts in my mind, when who should touch
me on the elbow but the little priest whom I have mentioned.

'It is I who can help you,' he said. 'I am myself travelling south.'

I put my arms about him and, as my ankle gave way at the same moment, we
nearly rolled upon the ground together.

'Get me to Pastores,' I cried, 'and you shall have a rosary of golden
beads.' I had taken one from the Convent of Spiritu Santo. It shows how
necessary it is to take what you can when you are upon a campaign, and
how the most unlikely things may become useful.

'I will take you,' he said, in very excellent French, 'not because I
hope for any reward, but because it is my way always to do what I can to
serve my fellow-man, and that is why I am so beloved wherever I go.'

With that he led me down the village to an old cow-house, in which we
found a tumble-down sort of diligence, such as they used to run early
in this century, between some of our remote villages. There were three
old mules, too, none of which were strong enough to carry a man, but
together they might draw the coach. The sight of their gaunt ribs and
spavined legs gave me more delight than the whole two hundred and twenty
hunters of the Emperor which I have seen in their stalls at
Fontainebleau. In ten minutes the owner was harnessing them into the
coach, with no very good will, however, for he was in mortal dread of
this terrible Cuchillo. It was only by promising him riches in this
world, while the priest threatened him with perdition in the next, that
we at last got him safely upon the box with the reins between his
fingers. Then he was in such a hurry to get off, out of fear lest we
should find ourselves in the dark in the passes, that he hardly gave me
time to renew my vows to the innkeeper's daughter. I cannot at this
moment recall her name, but we wept together as we parted, and I can
remember that she was a very beautiful woman. You will understand, my
friends, that when a man like me, who has fought the men and kissed the
women in fourteen separate kingdoms, gives a word of praise to the one
or the other, it has a little meaning of its own.

The little priest had seemed a trifle grave when we kissed good-bye, but
he soon proved himself the best of companions in the diligence. All the
way he amused me with tales of his little parish up in the mountains,
and I in my turn told him stories about the camp; but, my faith, I had
to pick my steps, for when I said a word too much he would fidget in his
seat and his face would show the pain that I had given him. And of
course it is not the act of a gentleman to talk in anything but a proper
manner to a religious man, though, with all the care in the world, one's
words may get out of hand sometimes.

He had come from the north of Spain, as he told me, and was going to see
his mother in a village of Estremadura, and as he spoke about her little
peasant home, and her joy in seeing him, it brought my own mother so
vividly to my thoughts that the tears started to my eyes. In his
simplicity he showed me the little gifts which he was taking to her, and
so kindly was his manner that I could readily believe him when he said
he was loved wherever he went. He examined my own uniform with as much
curiosity as a child, admiring the plume of my busby, and passing his
fingers through the sable with which my dolman was trimmed. He drew my
sword, too, and then when I told him how many men I had cut down with
it, and set my finger on the notch made by the shoulder-bone of the
Russian Emperor's aide-de-camp, he shuddered and placed the weapon under
the leathern cushion, declaring that it made him sick to look at it.

Well, we had been rolling and creaking on our way whilst this talk had
been going forward, and as we reached the base of the mountains we could
hear the rumbling of cannon far away upon the right. This came from
Massena, who was, as I knew, besieging Ciudad Rodrigo. There was nothing
I should have wished better than to have gone straight to him, for if,
as some said, he had Jewish blood in his veins, he was the best Jew that
I have heard of since Joshua's time. If you were in sight of his beaky
nose and bold, black eyes, you were not likely to miss much of what was
going on. Still, a siege is always a poor sort of a pick-and-shovel
business, and there were better prospects with my hussars in front of
the English. Every mile that passed, my heart grew lighter and lighter,
until I found myself shouting and singing like a young ensign fresh from
St Cyr, just to think of seeing all my fine horses and my gallant
fellows once more.

As we penetrated the mountains the road grew rougher and the pass more
savage. At first we had met a few muleteers, but now the whole country
seemed deserted, which is not to be wondered at when you think that the
French, the English, and the guerillas had each in turn had command over
it. So bleak and wild was it, one great brown wrinkled cliff succeeding
another, and the pass growing narrower and narrower, that I ceased to
look out, but sat in silence, thinking of this and that, of women whom I
had loved and of horses which I had handled. I was suddenly brought back
from my dreams, however, by observing the difficulties of my companion,
who was trying with a sort of brad-awl, which he had drawn out, to bore
a hole through the leathern strap which held up his water-flask. As he
worked with twitching fingers the strap escaped his grasp, and the
wooden bottle fell at my feet. I stooped to pick it up, and as I did so
the priest silently leaped upon my shoulders and drove his brad-awl into
my eye!

My friends, I am, as you know, a man steeled to face every danger. When
one has served from the affair of Zurich to that last fatal day of
Waterloo, and has had the special medal, which I keep at home in a
leathern pouch, one can afford to confess when one is frightened. It may
console some of you, when your own nerves play you tricks, to remember
that you have heard even me, Brigadier Gerard, say that I have been
scared. And besides my terror at this horrible attack, and the maddening
pain of my wound, there was a sudden feeling of loathing such as you
might feel were some filthy tarantula to strike its fangs into you.

I clutched the creature in both hands, and, hurling him on to the floor
of the coach, I stamped on him with my heavy boots. He had drawn a
pistol from the front of his soutane, but I kicked it out of his hand,
and again I fell with my knees upon his chest. Then, for the first time,
he screamed horribly, while I, half blinded, felt about for the sword
which he had so cunningly concealed. My hand had just lighted upon it,
and I was dashing the blood from my face to see where he lay that I
might transfix him, when the whole coach turned partly over upon its
side, and my weapon was jerked out of my grasp by the shock.

Before I could recover myself the door was burst open, and I was
dragged by the heels on to the road. But even as I was torn out on to
the flint stones, and realized that thirty ruffians were standing around
me, I was filled with joy, for my pelisse had been pulled over my head
in the struggle and was covering one of my eyes, and it was with my
wounded eye that I was seeing this gang of brigands. You see for
yourself by this pucker and scar how the thin blade passed between
socket and ball, but it was only at that moment, when I was dragged from
the coach, that I understood that my sight was not gone for ever. The
creature's intention, doubtless, was to drive it through into my brain,
and indeed he loosened some portion of the inner bone of my head, so
that I afterwards had more trouble from that wound than from any one of
the seventeen which I have received.

They dragged me out, these sons of dogs, with curses and execrations,
beating me with their fists and kicking me as I lay upon the ground. I
had frequently observed that the mountaineers wore cloth swathed round
their feet, but never did I imagine that I should have so much cause to
be thankful for it. Presently, seeing the blood upon my head, and that I
lay quiet, they thought that I was unconscious, whereas I was storing
every ugly face among them into my memory, so that I might see them all
safely hanged if ever my chance came round. Brawny rascals they were,
with yellow handkerchiefs round their heads, and great red sashes
stuffed with weapons. They had rolled two rocks across the path, where
it took a sharp turn, and it was these which had torn off one of the
wheels of the coach and upset us. As to this reptile, who had acted the
priest so cleverly and had told me so much of his parish and his mother,
he, of course, had known where the ambuscade was laid, and had attempted
to put me beyond all resistance at the moment when we reached it.

I cannot tell you how frantic their rage was when they drew him out of
the coach and saw the state to which I had reduced him. If he had not
got all his deserts, he had, at least, something as a souvenir of his
meeting with Etienne Gerard, for his legs dangled aimlessly about, and
though the upper part of his body was convulsed with rage and pain, he
sat straight down upon his feet when they tried to set him upright. But
all the time his two little black eyes, which had seemed so kindly and
so innocent in the coach, were glaring at me like a wounded cat, and he
spat, and spat, and spat in my direction. My faith! when the wretches
jerked me on to my feet again, and when I was dragged off up one of the
mountain paths, I understood that a time was coming when I was to need
all my courage and resource. My enemy was carried upon the shoulders of
two men behind me, and I could hear his hissing and his reviling, first
in one ear and then in the other, as I was hurried up the winding track.

I suppose that it must have been for an hour that we ascended, and what
with my wounded ankle and the pain from my eye, and the fear lest this
wound should have spoiled my appearance, I have made no journey to which
I look back with less pleasure. I have never been a good climber at any
time, but it is astonishing what you can do, even with a stiff ankle,
when you have a copper-coloured brigand at each elbow and a nine-inch
blade within touch of your whiskers.

We came at last to a place where the path wound over a ridge, and
descended upon the other side through thick pine-trees into a valley
which opened to the south. In time of peace I had little doubt that the
villains were all smugglers, and that these were the secret paths by
which they crossed the Portuguese frontier. There were many mule-tracks,
and once I was surprised to see the marks of a large horse where a
stream had softened the track. These were explained when, on reaching a
place where there was a clearing in the fir wood, I saw the animal
itself haltered to a fallen tree. My eyes had hardly rested upon it,
when I recognized the great black limbs and the white near fore-leg. It
was the very horse which I had begged for in the morning.

What, then, had become of Commissariat Vidal? Was it possible that
there was another Frenchman in as perilous a plight as myself? The
thought had hardly entered my head when our party stopped and one of
them uttered a peculiar cry. It was answered from among the brambles
which lined the base of a cliff at one side of a clearing, and an
instant later ten or a dozen more brigands came out from amongst them,
and the two parties greeted each other. The new-comers surrounded my
friend of the brad-awl with cries of grief and sympathy, and then,
turning upon me, they brandished their knives and howled at me like the
gang of assassins that they were. So frantic were their gestures that I
was convinced that my end had come, and was just bracing myself to meet
it in a manner which should be worthy of my past reputation, when one of
them gave an order and I was dragged roughly across the little glade to
the brambles from which this new band had emerged.

A narrow pathway led through them to a deep grotto in the side of the
cliff. The sun was already setting outside, and in the cave itself it
would have been quite dark but for a pair of torches which blazed from a
socket on either side. Between them there was sitting at a rude table a
very singular-looking person, whom I saw instantly, from the respect
with which the others addressed him, could be none other than the
brigand chief who had received, on account of his dreadful character,
the sinister name of El Cuchillo.

The man whom I had injured had been carried in and placed upon the top
of a barrel, his helpless legs dangling about in front of him, and his
cat's eyes still darting glances of hatred at me. I understood, from the
snatches of talk which I could follow between the chief and him, that he
was the lieutenant of the band, and that part of his duties was to lie
in wait with his smooth tongue and his peaceful garb for travellers like
myself. When I thought of how many gallant officers may have been lured
to their death by this monster of hypocrisy, it gave me a glow of
pleasure to think that I had brought his villainies to an end--though I
feared it would be at the price of a life which neither the Emperor nor
the army could well spare.

As the injured man still supported upon the barrel by two comrades, was
explaining in Spanish all that had befallen him, I was held by several
of the villains in front of the table at which the chief was seated, and
had an excellent opportunity of observing him. I have seldom seen any
man who was less like my idea of a brigand, and especially of a brigand
with such a reputation that in a land of cruelty he had earned so dark a
nickname. His face was bluff and broad and bland, with ruddy cheeks and
comfortable little tufts of side-whiskers, which gave him the appearance
of a well-to-do grocer of the Rue St Antoine. He had not any of those
flaring sashes or gleaming weapons which distinguished his followers,
but on the contrary he wore a good broadcloth coat like a respectable
father of a family, and save for his brown leggings there was nothing to
indicate a life among the mountains. His surroundings, too, corresponded
with himself, and beside his snuff-box upon the table there stood a
great brown book, which looked like a commercial ledger. Many other
books were ranged along a plank between two powder-casks, and there was
a great litter of papers, some of which had verses scribbled upon them.
All this I took in while he, leaning indolently back in his chair, was
listening to the report of his lieutenant. Having heard everything, he
ordered the cripple to be carried out again, and I was left with my
three guards, waiting to hear my fate. He took up his pen, and tapping
his forehead with the handle of it, he pursed up his lips and looked out
of the corner of his eyes at the roof of the grotto.

'I suppose,' said he at last, speaking very excellent French, 'that you
are not able to suggest a rhyme for the word Covilha.'

I answered him that my acquaintance with the Spanish language was so
limited that I was unable to oblige him.

'It is a rich language,' said he, 'but less prolific in rhymes than
either the German or the English. That is why our best work has been
done in blank verse, a form of composition which is capable of reaching
great heights. But I fear that such subjects are somewhat outside the
range of a hussar.'

I was about to answer that if they were good enough for a guerilla, they
could not be too much for the light cavalry, but he was already stooping
over his half-finished verse. Presently he threw down the pen with an
exclamation of satisfaction, and declaimed a few lines which drew a cry
of approval from the three ruffians who held me. His broad face blushed
like a young girl who receives her first compliment.

'The critics are in my favour, it appears,' said he; 'we amuse ourselves
in our long evenings by singing our own ballads, you understand. I have
some little facility in that direction, and I do not at all despair of
seeing some of my poor efforts in print before long, and with "Madrid"
upon the title-page, too. But we must get back to business. May I ask
what your name is?'

'Etienne Gerard.'

'Rank?'

'Colonel.'

'Corps?'

'The Third Hussars of Conflans.'

'You are young for a colonel.'

'My career has been an eventful one.'

'Tut, that makes it the sadder,' said he, with his bland smile.

I made no answer to that, but I tried to show him by my bearing that I
was ready for the worst which could befall me.

'By the way, I rather fancy that we have had some of your corps here,'
said he, turning over the pages of his big brown register. 'We
endeavour to keep a record of our operations. Here is a heading under
June 24th. Have you not a young officer named Soubiron, a tall, slight
youth with light hair?'

'Certainly.'

'I see that we buried him upon that date.'

'Poor lad!' I cried. 'And how did he die?'

'We buried him.'

'But before you buried him?'

'You misunderstand me, Colonel. He was not dead before we buried him.'

'You buried him alive!'

For a moment I was too stunned to act. Then I hurled myself upon the
man, as he sat with that placid smile of his upon his lips, and I would
have torn his throat out had the three wretches not dragged me away from
him. Again and again I made for him, panting and cursing, shaking off
this man and that, straining and wrenching, but never quite free. At
last, with my jacket torn nearly off my back and blood dripping from my
wrists, I was hauled backwards in the bight of a rope and cords passed
round my ankles and my arms.

'You sleek hound!' I cried. 'If ever I have you at my sword's point, I
will teach you to maltreat one of my lads. You will find, you
bloodthirsty beast, that my Emperor has long arms, and though you lie
here like a rat in its hole, the time will come when he will tear you
out of it, and you and your vermin will perish together.'

My faith, I have a rough side to my tongue, and there was not a hard
word that I had learned in fourteen campaigns which I did not let fly at
him; but he sat with the handle of his pen tapping against his forehead
and his eyes squinting up at the roof as if he had conceived the idea of
some new stanza. It was this occupation of his which showed me how I
might get my point into him.

'You spawn!' said I; 'you think that you are safe here, but your life
may be as short as that of your absurd verses, and God knows that it
could not be shorter than that.'

Ah, you should have seen him bound from his chair when I said the words.
This vile monster, who dispensed death and torture as a grocer serves
out his figs, had one raw nerve then which I could prod at pleasure. His
face grew livid, and those little bourgeois side-whiskers quivered and
thrilled with passion.

'Very good, Colonel. You have said enough,' he cried, in a choking
voice. 'You say that you have had a very distinguished career. I promise
you also a very distinguished ending. Colonel Etienne Gerard of the
Third Hussars shall have a death of his own.'

'And I only beg,' said I, 'that you will not commemorate it in verse.' I
had one or two little ironies to utter, but he cut me short by a furious
gesture which caused my three guards to drag me from the cave.

Our interview, which I have told you as nearly as I can remember it,
must have lasted some time, for it was quite dark when we came out, and
the moon was shining very clearly in the heavens. The brigands had
lighted a great fire of the dried branches of the fir-trees; not, of
course, for warmth, since the night was already very sultry, but to cook
their evening meal. A huge copper pot hung over the blaze, and the
rascals were lying all round in the yellow glare, so that the scene
looked like one of those pictures which Junot stole out of Madrid. There
are some soldiers who profess to care nothing for art and the like, but
I have always been drawn towards it myself, in which respect I show my
good taste and my breeding. I remember, for example, that when Lefebvre
was selling the plunder after the fall of Danzig, I bought a very fine
picture, called 'Nymphs Surprised in a Wood,' and I carried it with me
through two campaigns, until my charger had the misfortune to put his
hoof through it.

I only tell you this, however, to show you that I was never a mere
rough soldier like Rapp or Ney. As I lay in that brigands' camp, I had
little time or inclination to think about such matters. They had thrown
me down under a tree, the three villains squatting round and smoking
their cigarettes within hands' touch of me. What to do I could not
imagine. In my whole career I do not suppose that I have ten times been
in as hopeless a situation. 'But courage,' thought I. 'Courage, my brave
boy! You were not made a Colonel of Hussars at twenty-eight because you
could dance a cotillon. You are a picked man, Etienne; a man who has
come through more than two hundred affairs, and this little one is
surely not going to be the last.' I began eagerly to glance about for
some chance of escape, and as I did so I saw something which filled me
with great astonishment.

I have already told you that a large fire was burning in the centre of
the glade. What with its glare, and what with the moonlight, everything
was as clear as possible. On the other side of the glade there was a
single tall fir-tree which attracted my attention because its trunk and
lower branches were discoloured, as if a large fire had recently been
lit underneath it. A clump of bushes grew in front of it which concealed
the base. Well, as I looked towards it, I was surprised to see
projecting above the bush, and fastened apparently to the tree, a pair
of fine riding boots with the toes upwards. At first I thought that they
were tied there, but as I looked harder I saw that they were secured by
a great nail which was hammered through the foot of each. And then,
suddenly, with a thrill of horror, I understood that these were not
empty boots; and moving my head a little to the right, I was able to see
who it was that had been fastened there, and why a fire had been lit
beneath the tree. It is not pleasant to speak or to think of horrors, my
friends, and I do not wish to give any of you bad dreams tonight--but I
cannot take you among the Spanish guerillas without showing you what
kind of men they were, and the sort of warfare that they waged. I will
only say that I understood why Monsieur Vidal's horse was waiting
masterless in the grove, and that I hoped he had met this terrible fate
with sprightliness and courage, as a good Frenchman ought.

It was not a very cheering sight for me, as you can imagine. When I had
been with their chief in the grotto I had been so carried away by my
rage at the cruel death of young Soubiron, who was one of the brightest
lads who ever threw his thigh over a charger, that I had never given a
thought to my own position. Perhaps it would have been more politic had
I spoken the ruffian fair, but it was too late now. The cork was drawn
and I must drain the wine. Besides, if the harmless commissariat man
were put to such a death, what hope was there for me, who had snapped
the spine of their lieutenant? No, I was doomed in any case, and it was
as well perhaps that I should have put the best face on the matter. This
beast could bear witness that Etienne Gerard had died as he had lived,
and that one prisoner at least had not quailed before him. I lay there
thinking of the various girls who would mourn for me, and of my dear old
mother, and of the deplorable loss which I should be, both to my
regiment and to the Emperor, and I am not ashamed to confess to you that
I shed tears as I thought of the general consternation which my
premature end would give rise to.

But all the time I was taking the very keenest notice of everything
which might possibly help me. I am not a man who would lie like a sick
horse waiting for the farrier sergeant and the pole-axe. First I would
give a little tug at my ankle cords, and then another at those which
were round my wrists, and all the time that I was trying to loosen them
I was peering round to see if I could find something which was in my
favour. There was one thing which was very evident. A hussar is but half
formed without a horse, and there was my other half quietly grazing
within thirty yards of me. Then I observed yet another thing. The path
by which we had come over the mountains was so steep that a horse could
only be led across it slowly and with difficulty, but in the other
direction the ground appeared to be more open, and to lead straight down
into a gently-sloping valley. Had I but my feet in yonder stirrups and
my sabre in my hand, a single bold dash might take me out of the power
of these vermin of the rocks.

I was still thinking it over and straining with my wrists and my ankles,
when their chief came out from his grotto, and after some talk with his
lieutenant, who lay groaning near the fire, they both nodded their heads
and looked across at me. He then said some few words to the band, who
clapped their hands and laughed uproariously. Things looked ominous, and
I was delighted to feel that my hands were so far free that I could
easily slip them through the cords if I wished. But with my ankles I
feared that I could do nothing, for when I strained it brought such pain
into my lance-wound that I had to gnaw my moustache to keep from crying
out. I could only lie still, half-free and half-bound, and see what turn
things were likely to take.

For a little I could not make out what they were after. One of the
rascals climbed up a well-grown fir-tree upon one side of the glade, and
tied a rope round the top of the trunk. He then fastened another rope in
the same fashion to a similar tree upon the other side. The two loose
ends were now dangling down, and I waited with some curiosity, and just
a little trepidation also, to see what they would do next. The whole
band pulled upon one of the ropes until they had bent the strong young
tree down into a semi-circle, and they then fastened it to a stump, so
as to hold it so. When they had bent the other tree down in a similar
fashion, the two summits were within a few feet of each other, though,
as you understand, they would each spring back into their original
position the instant that they were released. I already saw the
diabolical plan which these miscreants had formed.

'I presume that you are a strong man, Colonel,' said the chief, coming
towards me with his hateful smile.

'If you will have the kindness to loosen these cords,' I answered, 'I
will show you how strong I am.'

'We were all interested to see whether you were as strong as these two
young saplings,' said he. 'It is our intention, you see, to tie one end
of each rope round your ankles and then let the trees go. If you are
stronger than the trees, then, of course, no harm would be done; if, on
the other hand, the trees are stronger than you, why, in that case,
Colonel, we may have a souvenir of you upon each side of our little
glade.'

He laughed as he spoke, and at the sight of it the whole forty of them
laughed also. Even now if I am in my darker humour, or if I have a touch
of my old Lithuanian ague, I see in my sleep that ring of dark, savage
faces, with their cruel eyes, and the firelight flashing upon their
strong white teeth.

It is astonishing--and I have heard many make the same remark--how acute
one's senses become at such a crisis as this. I am convinced that at no
moment is one living so vividly, so acutely, as at the instant when a
violent and foreseen death overtakes one. I could smell the resinous
fagots, I could see every twig upon the ground, I could hear every
rustle of the branches, as I have never smelled or seen or heard save at
such times of danger. And so it was that long before anyone else, before
even the time when the chief had addressed me, I had heard a low,
monotonous sound, far away indeed, and yet coming nearer at every
instant. At first it was but a murmur, a rumble, but by the time he had
finished speaking, while the assassins were untying my ankles in order
to lead me to the scene of my murder, I heard, as plainly as ever I
heard anything in my life, the clinking of horseshoes and the jingling
of bridle-chains, with the clank of sabres against stirrup-irons. Is it
likely that I, who had lived with the light cavalry since the first hair
shaded my lip, would mistake the sound of troopers on the march?

'Help, comrades, help!' I shrieked, and though they struck me across
the mouth and tried to drag me up to the trees, I kept on yelling, 'Help
me, my brave boys! Help me, my children! They are murdering your
colonel!'

For the moment my wounds and my troubles had brought on a delirium, and
I looked for nothing less than my five hundred hussars, kettle-drums and
all, to appear at the opening of the glade.

But that which really appeared was very different to anything which I
had conceived. Into the clear space there came galloping a fine young
man upon a most beautiful roan horse. He was fresh-faced and
pleasant-looking, with the most debonair bearing in the world and the
most gallant way of carrying himself--a way which reminded me somewhat