The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  3. HOW THE BRIGADIER HELD THE KING

  Here, upon the lapel of my coat, you may see the ribbon of mydecoration, but the medal itself I keep in a leathern pouch at home, andI 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-knownBrigadier Gerard. Then I place it upon my breast, and I give mymoustache the old Marengo twist which brings a grey point into eithereye. Yet with it all I fear that neither they, nor you either, myfriends, will ever realize the man that I was. You know me only as acivilian--with an air and a manner, it is true--but still merely as acivilian. 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 thehussar may attain to.

  For a month I had lingered in that accursed village, and all on accountof a lance-thrust in my ankle, which made it impossible for me to put myfoot to the ground. There were three besides myself at first: oldBouvet, of the Hussars of Bercheny, Jacques Regnier, of the Cuirassiers,and a funny little voltigeur captain whose name I forget; but they allgot well and hurried on to the front, while I sat gnawing my fingers andtearing my hair, and even, I must confess, weeping from time to time asI thought of my Hussars of Conflans, and the deplorable condition inwhich they must find themselves when deprived of their colonel. I wasnot a chief of brigade yet, you understand, although I already carriedmyself 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 thatthey should be so bereaved. It is true that Villaret, the senior major,was an excellent soldier; but still, even among the best there aredegrees of merit.

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

  The landlord would not hear of my crossing the mountains without anescort, 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 tofall into his hands. The old priest observed, however, that he did notthink a French hussar would be deterred by that, and if I had had anydoubts, 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 militaryfashion, coming towards me. He was riding a big black horse with onewhite 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 woundedfor a month, and I am now ready to rejoin my regiment at Pastores.'

  'I am Monsieur Vidal, of the commissariat,' he answered, 'and I ammyself 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 willpromise 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 himdreadful stories of the doings of El Cuchillo, and that I pointed outthe duty which he owed to the army and to the country. He would not evenargue, but called loudly for a cup of wine. I craftily asked him todismount and to drink with me, but he must have seen something in myface, for he shook his head; and then, as I approached him with somethought of seizing him by the leg, he jerked his heels into his horse'sflanks, and was off in a cloud of dust.

  My faith! it was enough to make a man mad to see this fellow riding awayso gaily to join his beef-barrels, and his brandy-casks, and then tothink of my five hundred beautiful hussars without their leader. I wasgazing after him with bitter thoughts in my mind, when who should touchme 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, wenearly rolled upon the ground together.

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

  'I will take you,' he said, in very excellent French, 'not because Ihope for any reward, but because it is my way always to do what I can toserve 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 wefound a tumble-down sort of diligence, such as they used to run earlyin this century, between some of our remote villages. There were threeold mules, too, none of which were strong enough to carry a man, buttogether they might draw the coach. The sight of their gaunt ribs andspavined legs gave me more delight than the whole two hundred and twentyhunters of the Emperor which I have seen in their stalls atFontainebleau. In ten minutes the owner was harnessing them into thecoach, with no very good will, however, for he was in mortal dread ofthis terrible Cuchillo. It was only by promising him riches in thisworld, while the priest threatened him with perdition in the next, thatwe at last got him safely upon the box with the reins between hisfingers. Then he was in such a hurry to get off, out of fear lest weshould find ourselves in the dark in the passes, that he hardly gave metime to renew my vows to the innkeeper's daughter. I cannot at thismoment recall her name, but we wept together as we parted, and I canremember that she was a very beautiful woman. You will understand, myfriends, that when a man like me, who has fought the men and kissed thewomen in fourteen separate kingdoms, gives a word of praise to the oneor the other, it has a little meaning of its own.

  The little priest had seemed a trifle grave when we kissed good-bye, buthe soon proved himself the best of companions in the diligence. All theway 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 hadto pick my steps, for when I said a word too much he would fidget in hisseat and his face would show the pain that I had given him. And ofcourse it is not the act of a gentleman to talk in anything but a propermanner to a religious man, though, with all the care in the world, one'swords may get out of hand sometimes.

  He had come from the north of Spain, as he told me, and was going to seehis mother in a village of Estremadura, and as he spoke about her littlepeasant home, and her joy in seeing him, it brought my own mother sovividly to my thoughts that the tears started to my eyes. In hissimplicity he showed me the little gifts which he was taking to her, andso kindly was his manner that I could readily believe him when he saidhe was loved wherever he went. He examined my own uniform with as muchcuriosity as a child, admiring the plume of my busby, and passing hisfingers through the sable with which my dolman was trimmed. He drew mysword, too, and then when I told him how many men I had cut down withit, and set my finger on the notch made by the shoulder-bone of theRussian Emperor's aide-de-camp, he shuddered and placed the weapon underthe 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 hadbeen going forward, and as we reached the base of the mountains we couldhear the rumbling of cannon far away upon the right. This came fromMassena, who was, as I knew, besieging Ciudad Rodrigo. There was nothingI 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 thatI have heard of since Joshua's time. If you were in sight
of his beakynose and bold, black eyes, you were not likely to miss much of what wasgoing on. Still, a siege is always a poor sort of a pick-and-shovelbusiness, and there were better prospects with my hussars in front ofthe English. Every mile that passed, my heart grew lighter and lighter,until I found myself shouting and singing like a young ensign fresh fromSt Cyr, just to think of seeing all my fine horses and my gallantfellows once more.

  As we penetrated the mountains the road grew rougher and the pass moresavage. At first we had met a few muleteers, but now the whole countryseemed deserted, which is not to be wondered at when you think that theFrench, the English, and the guerillas had each in turn had command overit. So bleak and wild was it, one great brown wrinkled cliff succeedinganother, and the pass growing narrower and narrower, that I ceased tolook out, but sat in silence, thinking of this and that, of women whom Ihad loved and of horses which I had handled. I was suddenly brought backfrom 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 borea hole through the leathern strap which held up his water-flask. As heworked with twitching fingers the strap escaped his grasp, and thewooden bottle fell at my feet. I stooped to pick it up, and as I did sothe priest silently leaped upon my shoulders and drove his brad-awl intomy eye!

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

  I clutched the creature in both hands, and, hurling him on to the floorof the coach, I stamped on him with my heavy boots. He had drawn apistol 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 swordwhich 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 Imight transfix him, when the whole coach turned partly over upon itsside, and my weapon was jerked out of my grasp by the shock.

  Before I could recover myself the door was burst open, and I wasdragged by the heels on to the road. But even as I was torn out on tothe flint stones, and realized that thirty ruffians were standing aroundme, I was filled with joy, for my pelisse had been pulled over my headin the struggle and was covering one of my eyes, and it was with mywounded eye that I was seeing this gang of brigands. You see foryourself by this pucker and scar how the thin blade passed betweensocket and ball, but it was only at that moment, when I was dragged fromthe coach, that I understood that my sight was not gone for ever. Thecreature's intention, doubtless, was to drive it through into my brain,and indeed he loosened some portion of the inner bone of my head, sothat I afterwards had more trouble from that wound than from any one ofthe 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. Ihad frequently observed that the mountaineers wore cloth swathed roundtheir feet, but never did I imagine that I should have so much cause tobe thankful for it. Presently, seeing the blood upon my head, and that Ilay quiet, they thought that I was unconscious, whereas I was storingevery ugly face among them into my memory, so that I might see them allsafely hanged if ever my chance came round. Brawny rascals they were,with yellow handkerchiefs round their heads, and great red sashesstuffed with weapons. They had rolled two rocks across the path, whereit took a sharp turn, and it was these which had torn off one of thewheels of the coach and upset us. As to this reptile, who had acted thepriest 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 attemptedto 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 ofthe coach and saw the state to which I had reduced him. If he had notgot all his deserts, he had, at least, something as a souvenir of hismeeting with Etienne Gerard, for his legs dangled aimlessly about, andthough the upper part of his body was convulsed with rage and pain, hesat straight down upon his feet when they tried to set him upright. Butall the time his two little black eyes, which had seemed so kindly andso innocent in the coach, were glaring at me like a wounded cat, and hespat, and spat, and spat in my direction. My faith! when the wretchesjerked me on to my feet again, and when I was dragged off up one of themountain paths, I understood that a time was coming when I was to needall my courage and resource. My enemy was carried upon the shoulders oftwo men behind me, and I could hear his hissing and his reviling, firstin 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 whatwith my wounded ankle and the pain from my eye, and the fear lest thiswound should have spoiled my appearance, I have made no journey to whichI look back with less pleasure. I have never been a good climber at anytime, 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-inchblade within touch of your whiskers.

  We came at last to a place where the path wound over a ridge, anddescended upon the other side through thick pine-trees into a valleywhich opened to the south. In time of peace I had little doubt that thevillains were all smugglers, and that these were the secret paths bywhich they crossed the Portuguese frontier. There were many mule-tracks,and once I was surprised to see the marks of a large horse where astream had softened the track. These were explained when, on reaching aplace where there was a clearing in the fir wood, I saw the animalitself 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. Itwas the very horse which I had begged for in the morning.

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

  A narrow pathway led through them to a deep grotto in the side of thecliff. The sun was already setting outside, and in the cave itself itwould have been quite dark but for a pair of torches which blazed from asocket on either side. Between them there was sitting at a rude table avery singular-looking person, whom I saw instantly, from the respectwith which the others addressed him, could be none other than thebrigand 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 topof a barrel, his helpless legs dangling about in front of him, and hiscat's eyes still darting glances of hatred at me. I understood, from thesnatches of talk which I could follow between the chief and him, that hewas the lieutenant of the band, and that part of his duties was to liein wait with his smooth tongue and his peaceful garb for travellers likemyself. When I thought of how many gallant officers may have been luredto their death by this monster of hypocrisy, it gave me a glow o
fpleasure to think that I had brought his villainies to an end--though Ifeared it would be at the price of a life which neither the Emperor northe army could well spare.

  As the injured man still supported upon the barrel by two comrades, wasexplaining in Spanish all that had befallen him, I was held by severalof the villains in front of the table at which the chief was seated, andhad an excellent opportunity of observing him. I have seldom seen anyman who was less like my idea of a brigand, and especially of a brigandwith such a reputation that in a land of cruelty he had earned so dark anickname. His face was bluff and broad and bland, with ruddy cheeks andcomfortable little tufts of side-whiskers, which gave him the appearanceof a well-to-do grocer of the Rue St Antoine. He had not any of thoseflaring sashes or gleaming weapons which distinguished his followers,but on the contrary he wore a good broadcloth coat like a respectablefather of a family, and save for his brown leggings there was nothing toindicate a life among the mountains. His surroundings, too, correspondedwith himself, and beside his snuff-box upon the table there stood agreat brown book, which looked like a commercial ledger. Many otherbooks were ranged along a plank between two powder-casks, and there wasa 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, waslistening to the report of his lieutenant. Having heard everything, heordered the cripple to be carried out again, and I was left with mythree guards, waiting to hear my fate. He took up his pen, and tappinghis forehead with the handle of it, he pursed up his lips and looked outof the corner of his eyes at the roof of the grotto.

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

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

  'It is a rich language,' said he, 'but less prolific in rhymes thaneither the German or the English. That is why our best work has beendone in blank verse, a form of composition which is capable of reachinggreat heights. But I fear that such subjects are somewhat outside therange of a hussar.'

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

  'The critics are in my favour, it appears,' said he; 'we amuse ourselvesin our long evenings by singing our own ballads, you understand. I havesome little facility in that direction, and I do not at all despair ofseeing 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 askwhat 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 Iwas 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. 'Weendeavour to keep a record of our operations. Here is a heading underJune 24th. Have you not a young officer named Soubiron, a tall, slightyouth 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 theman, as he sat with that placid smile of his upon his lips, and I wouldhave torn his throat out had the three wretches not dragged me away fromhim. Again and again I made for him, panting and cursing, shaking offthis man and that, straining and wrenching, but never quite free. Atlast, with my jacket torn nearly off my back and blood dripping from mywrists, I was hauled backwards in the bight of a rope and cords passedround my ankles and my arms.

  'You sleek hound!' I cried. 'If ever I have you at my sword's point, Iwill teach you to maltreat one of my lads. You will find, youbloodthirsty beast, that my Emperor has long arms, and though you liehere like a rat in its hole, the time will come when he will tear youout 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 hardword that I had learned in fourteen campaigns which I did not let fly athim; but he sat with the handle of his pen tapping against his foreheadand his eyes squinting up at the roof as if he had conceived the idea ofsome new stanza. It was this occupation of his which showed me how Imight get my point into him.

  'You spawn!' said I; 'you think that you are safe here, but your lifemay be as short as that of your absurd verses, and God knows that itcould 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 servesout his figs, had one raw nerve then which I could prod at pleasure. Hisface grew livid, and those little bourgeois side-whiskers quivered andthrilled with passion.

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

  'And I only beg,' said I, 'that you will not commemorate it in verse.' Ihad one or two little ironies to utter, but he cut me short by a furiousgesture 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, andthe moon was shining very clearly in the heavens. The brigands hadlighted a great fire of the dried branches of the fir-trees; not, ofcourse, for warmth, since the night was already very sultry, but to cooktheir evening meal. A huge copper pot hung over the blaze, and therascals were lying all round in the yellow glare, so that the scenelooked like one of those pictures which Junot stole out of Madrid. Thereare some soldiers who profess to care nothing for art and the like, butI have always been drawn towards it myself, in which respect I show mygood taste and my breeding. I remember, for example, that when Lefebvrewas selling the plunder after the fall of Danzig, I bought a very finepicture, called 'Nymphs Surprised in a Wood,' and I carried it with methrough two campaigns, until my charger had the misfortune to put hishoof through it.

  I only tell you this, however, to show you that I was never a mererough soldier like Rapp or Ney. As I lay in that brigands' camp, I hadlittle time or inclination to think about such matters. They had thrownme down under a tree, the three villains squatting round and smokingtheir cigarettes within hands' touch of me. What to do I could notimagine. In my whole career I do not suppose that I have ten times beenin as hopeless a situation. 'But courage,' thought I. 'Courage, my braveboy! You were not made a Colonel of Hussars at twenty-eight because youcould dance a cotillon. You are a picked man, Etienne; a man who hascome through more than two hundred affairs, and this little one issurely not going to be the last.' I began eagerly to glance about forsome chance of escape, and as I did so I saw something which filled mewith great astonishment.

  I have already told you that a large fire was burning in the centre ofthe glade. What with its glare, and what with the moonlight, everythingwas as clear as possible. On the other side of the glade there was asingle tall fir-tree which attracted my attention because its trunk andlower branches were discoloured, as if a large fire had recently beenlit underneath it. A clump of bushes grew in front of it which concealedthe base. W
ell, as I looked towards it, I was surprised to seeprojecting above the bush, and fastened apparently to the tree, a pairof fine riding boots with the toes upwards. At first I thought that theywere tied there, but as I looked harder I saw that they were secured bya great nail which was hammered through the foot of each. And then,suddenly, with a thrill of horror, I understood that these were notempty boots; and moving my head a little to the right, I was able to seewho it was that had been fastened there, and why a fire had been litbeneath the tree. It is not pleasant to speak or to think of horrors, myfriends, and I do not wish to give any of you bad dreams tonight--but Icannot take you among the Spanish guerillas without showing you whatkind of men they were, and the sort of warfare that they waged. I willonly say that I understood why Monsieur Vidal's horse was waitingmasterless in the grove, and that I hoped he had met this terrible fatewith sprightliness and courage, as a good Frenchman ought.

  It was not a very cheering sight for me, as you can imagine. When I hadbeen with their chief in the grotto I had been so carried away by myrage at the cruel death of young Soubiron, who was one of the brightestlads who ever threw his thigh over a charger, that I had never given athought to my own position. Perhaps it would have been more politic hadI spoken the ruffian fair, but it was too late now. The cork was drawnand I must drain the wine. Besides, if the harmless commissariat manwere put to such a death, what hope was there for me, who had snappedthe spine of their lieutenant? No, I was doomed in any case, and it wasas well perhaps that I should have put the best face on the matter. Thisbeast 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 therethinking of the various girls who would mourn for me, and of my dear oldmother, and of the deplorable loss which I should be, both to myregiment and to the Emperor, and I am not ashamed to confess to you thatI shed tears as I thought of the general consternation which mypremature end would give rise to.

  But all the time I was taking the very keenest notice of everythingwhich might possibly help me. I am not a man who would lie like a sickhorse waiting for the farrier sergeant and the pole-axe. First I wouldgive a little tug at my ankle cords, and then another at those whichwere round my wrists, and all the time that I was trying to loosen themI was peering round to see if I could find something which was in myfavour. There was one thing which was very evident. A hussar is but halfformed without a horse, and there was my other half quietly grazingwithin thirty yards of me. Then I observed yet another thing. The pathby which we had come over the mountains was so steep that a horse couldonly be led across it slowly and with difficulty, but in the otherdirection the ground appeared to be more open, and to lead straight downinto a gently-sloping valley. Had I but my feet in yonder stirrups andmy sabre in my hand, a single bold dash might take me out of the powerof 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 hislieutenant, who lay groaning near the fire, they both nodded their headsand looked across at me. He then said some few words to the band, whoclapped their hands and laughed uproariously. Things looked ominous, andI was delighted to feel that my hands were so far free that I couldeasily slip them through the cords if I wished. But with my ankles Ifeared that I could do nothing, for when I strained it brought such paininto my lance-wound that I had to gnaw my moustache to keep from cryingout. I could only lie still, half-free and half-bound, and see what turnthings were likely to take.

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

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

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

  'We were all interested to see whether you were as strong as these twoyoung saplings,' said he. 'It is our intention, you see, to tie one endof each rope round your ankles and then let the trees go. If you arestronger than the trees, then, of course, no harm would be done; if, onthe 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 littleglade.'

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

  It is astonishing--and I have heard many make the same remark--how acuteone's senses become at such a crisis as this. I am convinced that at nomoment is one living so vividly, so acutely, as at the instant when aviolent and foreseen death overtakes one. I could smell the resinousfagots, I could see every twig upon the ground, I could hear everyrustle of the branches, as I have never smelled or seen or heard save atsuch times of danger. And so it was that long before anyone else, beforeeven the time when the chief had addressed me, I had heard a low,monotonous sound, far away indeed, and yet coming nearer at everyinstant. At first it was but a murmur, a rumble, but by the time he hadfinished speaking, while the assassins were untying my ankles in orderto lead me to the scene of my murder, I heard, as plainly as ever Iheard anything in my life, the clinking of horseshoes and the jinglingof bridle-chains, with the clank of sabres against stirrup-irons. Is itlikely that I, who had lived with the light cavalry since the first hairshaded my lip, would mistake the sound of troopers on the march?

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

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

  But that which really appeared was very different to anything which Ihad conceived. Into the clear space there came galloping a fine youngman upon a most beautiful roan horse. He was fresh-faced andpleasant-looking, with the most debonair bearing in the world and themost gallant way of carrying himself--a way which reminded me somewhatof my own. He wore a singular coat which had once been red all over, butwhich was now stained to the colour of a withered oak-leaf wherever theweather could reach it. His shoulder-straps, however, were of goldenlace, and he had a bright metal helmet upon his head, with a coquettishwhite plume upon one side of its crest. He trotted his horse up theglade, while behind him rode four cavaliers in the same dress--allclean-shaven, with round, comely faces, looking to me more like monksthan dragoons. At a short, gruff order they halted with a rattle ofarms, while their leader cantered forward, the fire beating upon hiseager face and the beautiful head of his charger. I knew, of course, bythe strange coats that they were English. It was the first sight that Ihad ever had of them, but from their stout bearing and their masterfulway I could see at a glance that what I had always been told was true,and that they were excellent people to fight against.

  'Well, well, well!' cried the young officer, in sufficiently bad French,'what game are you up to here? Who was that who was yelling for help,and what are you trying to do to him?'

  It was at that moment that I learned to bless those mon
ths whichObriant, the descendant of the Irish kings, had spent in teaching me thetongue of the English. My ankles had just been freed, so that I had onlyto slip my hands out of the cords, and with a single rush I had flownacross, picked up my sabre where it lay by the fire, and hurled myselfon to the saddle of poor Vidal's horse. Yes, for all my wounded ankle, Inever put foot to stirrup, but was in the seat in a single bound. I torethe halter from the tree, and before these villains could so much assnap a pistol at me I was beside the English officer.

  'I surrender to you, sir,' I cried; though I daresay my English was notvery much better than his French. 'If you will look at that tree to theleft you will see what these villains do to the honourable gentlemen whofall into their hands.'

  The fire had flared up at that moment, and there was poor Vidal exposedbefore them, as horrible an object as one could see in a nightmare.'Godam!' cried the officer, and 'Godam!' cried each of the fourtroopers, which is the same as with us when we cry 'Mon Dieu!' Outrasped the five swords, and the four men closed up. One, who wore asergeant's chevrons, laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

  'Fight for your skin, froggy,' said he.

  Ah, it was so fine to have a horse between my thighs and a weapon in mygrip. I waved it above my head and shouted in my exultation. The chiefhad come forward with that odious smiling face of his.

  'Your excellency will observe that this Frenchman is our prisoner,' saidhe.

  'You are a rascally robber,' said the Englishman, shaking his sword athim. 'It is a disgrace to us to have such allies. By my faith, if LordWellington were of my mind we would swing you up on the nearest tree.'

  'But my prisoner?' said the brigand, in his suave voice.

  'He shall come with us to the British camp.'

  'Just a word in your ear before you take him.'

  He approached the young officer, and then turning as quick as a flash,he fired his pistol in my face. The bullet scored its way through myhair and burst a hole on each side of my busby. Seeing that he hadmissed me, he raised the pistol and was about to hurl it at me when theEnglish sergeant, with a single back-handed cut, nearly severed his headfrom his body. His blood had not reached the ground, nor the last cursedied on his lips, before the whole horde was upon us, but with a dozenbounds and as many slashes we were all safely out of the glade, andgalloping down the winding track which led to the valley.

  It was not until we had left the ravine far behind us and were right outin the open fields that we ventured to halt, and to see what injuries wehad sustained. For me, wounded and weary as I was, my heart was beatingproudly, and my chest was nearly bursting my tunic to think that I,Etienne Gerard, had left this gang of murderers so much by which toremember me. My faith, they would think twice before they ventured againto lay hands upon one of the Third Hussars. So carried away was I that Imade a small oration to these brave Englishmen, and told them who it wasthat they had helped to rescue. I would have spoken of glory also, andof the sympathies of brave men, but the officer cut me short.

  'That's all right,' said he. 'Any injuries, Sergeant?'

  'Trooper Jones's horse hit with a pistol bullet on the fetlock.'

  'Trooper Jones to go with us. Sergeant Halliday, with troopers Harveyand Smith, to keep to the right until they touch the vedettes of theGerman Hussars.'

  So these three jingled away together, while the officer and I, followedat some distance by the trooper whose horse had been wounded, rodestraight down in the direction of the English camp. Very soon we hadopened our hearts, for we each liked the other from the beginning. Hewas of the nobility, this brave lad, and he had been sent out scoutingby Lord Wellington to see if there were any signs of our advancingthrough the mountains. It is one advantage of a wandering life likemine, that you learn to pick up those bits of knowledge whichdistinguish the man of the world. I have, for example, hardly ever met aFrenchman who could repeat an English title correctly. If I had nottravelled I should not be able to say with confidence that this youngman's real name was Milor the Hon. Sir Russell, Bart., this last beingan honourable distinction, so that it was as the Bart that I usuallyaddressed him, just as in Spanish one might say 'the Don.'

  As we rode beneath the moonlight in the lovely Spanish night, we spokeour minds to each other, as if we were brothers. We were both of an age,you see, both of the light cavalry also (the Sixteenth Light Dragoonswas his regiment), and both with the same hopes and ambitions. Neverhave I learned to know a man so quickly as I did the Bart. He gave methe name of a girl whom he had loved at a garden called Vauxhall, and,for my own part, I spoke to him of little Coralie, of the Opera. He tooka lock of hair from his bosom, and I a garter. Then we nearly quarrelledover hussar and dragoon, for he was absurdly proud of his regiment, andyou should have seen him curl his lip and clap his hand to his hilt whenI said that I hoped it might never be its misfortune to come in the wayof the Third. Finally, he began to speak about what the English callsport, and he told such stories of the money which he had lost overwhich of two cocks could kill the other, or which of two men couldstrike the other the most in a fight for a prize, that I was filled withastonishment. He was ready to bet upon anything in the most wonderfulmanner, and when I chanced to see a shooting star he was anxious to betthat he would see more than me, twenty-five francs a star, and it wasonly when I explained that my purse was in the hands of the brigandsthat he would give over the idea.

  Well, we chatted away in this very amiable fashion until the day beganto break, when suddenly we heard a great volley of musketry fromsomewhere in front of us. It was very rocky and broken ground, and Ithought, although I could see nothing, that a general engagement hadbroken out. The Bart laughed at my idea, however, and explained that thesound came from the English camp, where every man emptied his piece eachmorning so as to make sure of having a dry priming.

  'In another mile we shall be up with the outposts,' said he.

  I glanced round at this, and I perceived that we had trotted along at sogood a pace during the time that we were keeping up our pleasant chat,that the dragoon with the lame horse was altogether out of sight. Ilooked on every side, but in the whole of that vast rocky valley therewas no one save only the Bart and I--both of us armed, you understand,and both of us well mounted. I began to ask myself whether after all itwas quite necessary that I should ride that mile which would bring me tothe British outposts.

  Now, I wish to be very clear with you on this point, my friends, for Iwould not have you think that I was acting dishonourably or ungratefullyto the man who had helped me away from the brigands. You must rememberthat of all duties the strongest is that which a commanding officer owesto his men. You must also bear in mind that war is a game which isplayed under fixed rules, and when these rules are broken one must atonce claim the forfeit. If, for example, I had given a parole, then Ishould have been an infamous wretch had I dreamed of escaping. But noparole had been asked of me. Out of over-confidence, and the chance ofthe lame horse dropping behind, the Bart had permitted me to get uponequal terms with him. Had it been I who had taken him, I should haveused him as courteously as he had me, but, at the same time, I shouldhave respected his enterprise so far as to have deprived him of hissword, and seen that I had at least one guard beside myself. I reinedup my horse and explained this to him, asking him at the same timewhether he saw any breach of honour in my leaving him.

  He thought about it, and several times repeated that which the Englishsay when they mean 'Mon Dieu.'

  'You would give me the slip, would you?' said he.

  'If you can give no reason against it.'

  'The only reason that I can think of,' said the Bart, 'is that I shouldinstantly cut your head off if you were to attempt it.'

  'Two can play at that game, my dear Bart,' said I.

  'Then we'll see who can play at it best,' he cried, pulling out hissword.

  I had drawn mine also, but I was quite determined not to hurt thisadmirable young man who had been my benefactor.

  'Consider,' said I, 'you say t
hat I am your prisoner. I might with equalreason say that you are mine. We are alone here, and though I have nodoubt that you are an excellent swordsman, you can hardly hope to holdyour own against the best blade in the six light cavalry brigades.'

  His answer was a cut at my head. I parried and shore off half of hiswhite plume. He thrust at my breast. I turned his point and cut away theother half of his cockade.

  'Curse your monkey-tricks!' he cried, as I wheeled my horse away fromhim.

  'Why should you strike at me?' said I. 'You see that I will not strikeback.'

  'That's all very well,' said he; 'but you've got to come along with meto the camp.'

  'I shall never see the camp,' said I.

  'I'll lay you nine to four you do,' he cried, as he made at me, sword inhand.

  But those words of his put something new into my head. Could we notdecide the matter in some better way than fighting? The Bart wasplacing me in such a position that I should have to hurt him, or hewould certainly hurt me. I avoided his rush, though his sword-point waswithin an inch of my neck.

  'I have a proposal,' I cried. 'We shall throw dice as to which is theprisoner of the other.'

  He smiled at this. It appealed to his love of sport.

  'Where are your dice?' he cried.

  'I have none.'

  'Nor I. But I have cards.'

  'Cards let it be,' said I.

  'And the game?'

  'I leave it to you.'

  'Ecarte, then--the best of three.'

  I could not help smiling as I agreed, for I do not suppose that therewere three men in France who were my masters at the game. I told theBart as much as we dismounted. He smiled also as he listened.

  'I was counted the best player at Watier's,' said he. 'With even luckyou deserve to get off if you beat me.'

  So we tethered our two horses and sat down one on either side of a greatflat rock. The Bart took a pack of cards out of his tunic, and I hadonly to see him shuffle to convince me that I had no novice to dealwith. We cut, and the deal fell to him.

  My faith, it was a stake worth playing for. He wished to add a hundredgold pieces a game, but what was money when the fate of Colonel EtienneGerard hung upon the cards? I felt as though all those who had reason tobe interested in the game--my mother, my hussars, the Sixth Corpsd'Armee, Ney, Massena, even the Emperor himself--were forming a ringround us in that desolate valley. Heavens, what a blow to one and all ofthem should the cards go against me! But I was confident, for my ecarteplay was as famous as my swordsmanship, and save old Bouvet of theHussars of Bercheny, who won seventy-six out of one hundred and fiftygames off me, I have always had the best of a series.

  The first game I won right off, though I must confess that the cardswere with me, and that my adversary could have done no more. In thesecond, I never played better and saved a trick by a finesse, but theBart voled me once, marked the king, and ran out in the second hand. Myfaith, we were so excited that he laid his helmet down beside him and Imy busby.

  'I'll lay my roan mare against your black horse,' said he.

  'Done!' said I.

  'Sword against sword.'

  'Done!' said I.

  'Saddle, bridle, and stirrups!' he cried.

  'Done!' I shouted.

  I had caught this spirit of sport from him. I would have laid my hussarsagainst his dragoons had they been ours to pledge.

  And then began the game of games. Oh, he played, this Englishman--heplayed in a way that was worthy of such a stake. But I, my friends, Iwas superb! Of the five which I had to make to win, I gained three onthe first hand. The Bart bit his moustache and drummed his hands, whileI already felt myself at the head of my dear little rascals. On thesecond, I turned the king, but lost two tricks--and my score was four tohis two. When I saw my next hand I could not but give a cry of delight.'If I cannot gain my freedom on this,' thought I, 'I deserve to remainfor ever in chains.'

  Give me the cards, landlord, and I will lay them out on the table foryou.

  Here was my hand: knave and ace of clubs, queen and knave of diamonds,and king of hearts. Clubs were trumps, mark you, and I had but one pointbetween me and freedom. He knew it was the crisis, and he undid histunic. I threw my dolman on the ground. He led the ten of spades. I tookit with my ace of trumps. One point in my favour. The correct play wasto clear the trumps, and I led the knave. Down came the queen upon it,and the game was equal. He led the eight of spades, and I could onlydiscard my queen of diamonds. Then came the seven of spades, and thehair stood straight up on my head. We each threw down a king at thefinal. He had won two points, and my beautiful hand had been mastered byhis inferior one. I could have rolled on the ground as I thought of it.They used to play very good ecarte at Watier's in the year '10. I sayit--I, Brigadier Gerard.

  The last game was now four all. This next hand must settle it one way orthe other. He undid his sash, and I put away my sword-belt. He was cool,this Englishman, and I tried to be so also, but the perspiration wouldtrickle into my eyes. The deal lay with him, and I may confess to you,my friends, that my hands shook so that I could hardly pick my cardsfrom the rock. But when I raised them, what was the first thing that myeyes rested upon? It was the king, the king, the glorious king oftrumps! My mouth was open to declare it when the words were frozen uponmy lips by the appearance of my comrade.

  He held his cards in his hand, but his jaw had fallen, and his eyes werestaring over my shoulder with the most dreadful expression ofconsternation and surprise. I whisked round, and I was myself amazed atwhat I saw.

  Three men were standing quite close to us--fifteen metres at thefarthest. The middle one was of a good height, and yet not tootall--about the same height, in fact, that I am myself. He was clad in adark uniform with a small cocked hat, and some sort of white plume uponthe side. But I had little thought of his dress. It was his face, hisgaunt cheeks, his beak-like nose, his masterful blue eyes, his thin,firm slit of a mouth which made one feel that this was a wonderful man,a man of a million. His brows were tied into a knot, and he cast such aglance at my poor Bart from under them that one by one the cards camefluttering down from his nerveless fingers. Of the two other men, one,who had a face as brown and hard as though it had been carved out of oldoak, wore a bright red coat, while the other, a fine portly man withbushy side-whiskers, was in a blue jacket with gold facings. Some littledistance behind, three orderlies were holding as many horses, and anescort of dragoons was waiting in the rear.

  'Heh, Crauford, what the deuce is this?' asked the thin man.

  'D'you hear, sir?' cried the man with the red coat. 'Lord Wellingtonwants to know what this means.'

  My poor Bart broke into an account of all that had occurred, but thatrock-face never softened for an instant.

  'Pretty fine, 'pon my word, General Crauford,' he broke in. 'Thediscipline of this force must be maintained, sir. Report yourself atheadquarters as a prisoner.'

  It was dreadful to me to see the Bart mount his horse and ride off withhanging head. I could not endure it. I threw myself before this EnglishGeneral. I pleaded with him for my friend. I told him how I, ColonelGerard, would witness what a dashing young officer he was. Ah, myeloquence might have melted the hardest heart; I brought tears to my owneyes, but none to his. My voice broke, and I could say no more.

  'What weight do you put on your mules, sir, in the French service?' heasked. Yes, that was all this phlegmatic Englishman had to answer tothese burning words of mine. That was his reply to what would have madea Frenchman weep upon my shoulder.

  'What weight on a mule?' asked the man with the red coat.

  'Two hundred and ten pounds,' said I.

  'Then you load them deucedly badly,' said Lord Wellington. 'Remove theprisoner to the rear.'

  His dragoons closed in upon me, and I--I was driven mad, as I thoughtthat the game had been in my hands, and that I ought at that moment tobe a free man. I held the cards up in front of the General.

  'See, my lord!' I cried; 'I played for my freedom and I won,
for, as youperceive, I hold the king.'

  For the first time a slight smile softened his gaunt face.

  'On the contrary,' said he, as he mounted his horse, 'it is I who won,for, as you perceive, my King holds you.'