Adventures of
Gerard
by
Arthur Conan Doyle
CONTENTS:
I.
How Brigadier Gerard Lost His Ear
II.
How the Brigadier Captured Saragossa
III. How the Brigadier Slew the Fox[*]
IV.
How the Brigadier Saved the Army
V.
How the Brigadier Triumphed in England.
VI.
How the Brigadier Rode to Minsk
VII.
How the Brigadier Bore Himself at Waterloo
I.
THE STORY OF THE FOREST INN
II. THE STORY OF THE NINE PRUSSIAN HORSEMEN
VIII.
The Last Adventure of the Brigadier
"Il
etait brave mais avec cette graine de foilie dans sa bravoure que les Francais
aiment."
FRENCH
BIOGRAPHY.
I hope that some readers may possibly be interested in these
little tales of the Napoleonic soldiers to the extent of following them up to
the springs from which they flow. The
age was rich in military material, some of it the most human and the most
picturesque that I have ever read.
Setting aside historical works or the biographies of the leaders there
is a mass of evidence written by the actual fighting men themselves, which
describes their feelings and their experiences, stated always from the point of
view of the particular branch of the service to which they belonged. The Cavalry were particularly happy in their
writers of memoirs. Thus De Rocca in his
"Memoires sur la guerre des Francais en Espagne" has given the
narrative of a Hussar, while De Naylies in his "Memoires sur la guerre
d'Espagne" gives the same campaigns from the point of view of the
Dragoon. Then we have the
"Souvenirs Militaires du Colonel de Gonneville," which treats a
series of wars, including that of
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
March, 1903.
It was the old Brigadier who was talking in the cafe.
I have seen a great many cities, my friends. I would not dare to tell you how many I have
entered as a conqueror with eight hundred of my little fighting devils clanking
and jingling behind me. The cavalry were
in front of the Grande Armee, and the Hussars of Conflans were in front of the
cavalry, and I was in front of the Hussars.
But of all the cities which we visited
You have not been to
But it is of
Thus I was able to admire the pictures in
One of them, called "Nymphs Surprised," I kept for myself, and the other, "Saint Barbara," I sent as a present for my mother.
It must be confessed, however, that some of our men behaved
very badly in this matter of the statues and the pictures. The people at
However, they were the only four horses, alive or dead, in the whole town, so it was not to be expected that the people would know any better. They wept bitterly when they were sent away, and ten French soldiers were found floating in the canals that night. As a punishment for these murders a great many more of their pictures were sent away, and the soldiers took to breaking the statues and firing their muskets at the stained-glass windows.
This made the people furious, and there was very bad feeling in the town. Many officers and men disappeared during that winter, and even their bodies were never found.
For myself I had plenty to do, and I never found the time
heavy on my hands. In every country it
has been my custom to try to learn the language. For this reason I always look round for some
lady who will be kind enough to teach it to me, and then we practise it
together. This is the most interesting
way of picking it up, and before I was thirty I could speak nearly every tongue
in
Never have I had so sweet a teacher as in
She was of an exquisite beauty--and when I, Etienne Gerard, use such a word as "exquisite," my friends, it has a meaning. I have judgment, I have memories, I have the means of comparison. Of all the women who have loved me there are not twenty to whom I could apply such a term as that. But I say again that Lucia was exquisite.
Of the dark type I do not recall her equal unless it were Dolores of Toledo.
There was a little brunette whom I loved at
It was over this matter of pictures that I had first met
her, for her father owned a palace on the farther side of the
I had gone down with them, and after I had seen Lucia in
tears it appeared to me that the plaster would crack if it were taken from the
support of the wall. I said so, and the
sappers were withdrawn. After that I was
the friend of the family, and many a flask of Chianti have I cracked with the
father and many a sweet lesson have I had from the daughter. Some of our French officers married in
And now I will tell you how my love for Lucia was the cause of one of the most terrible of all the wonderful adventures which have ever befallen me, and how it was that I came to lose the top of my right ear. You have often asked me why it was missing. To-night for the first time I will tell you.
Suchet's head-quarters at that time was the old palace of the Doge Dandolo, which stands on the lagoon not far from the place of San Marco. It was near the end of the winter, and I had returned one night from the Theatre Goldini, when I found a note from Lucia and a gondola waiting. She prayed me to come to her at once as she was in trouble. To a Frenchman and a soldier there was but one answer to such a note. In an instant I was in the boat and the gondolier was pushing out into the dark lagoon.
I remember that as I took my seat in the boat I was struck
by the man's great size. He was not
tall, but he was one of the broadest men that I have ever seen in my life. But the gondoliers of
A good soldier in an enemy's country should everywhere and
at all times be on the alert. It has
been one of the rules of my life, and if I have lived to wear grey hairs it is
because I have observed it. And yet upon
that night I was as careless as a foolish young recruit who fears lest he
should be thought to be afraid. My
pistols I had left behind in my hurry.
My sword was at my belt, but it is not always the most convenient of
weapons. I lay back in my seat in the
gondola, lulled by the gentle swish of the water and the steady creaking of the
oar. Our way lay through a network of
narrow canals with high houses towering on either side and
a thin slit of star-spangled sky above us.
Here and there, on the bridges which spanned the canal, there was the
dim glimmer of an oil lamp, and sometimes there came a gleam from some niche
where a candle burned before the image of a saint. But save for this it was all black, and one
could only see the water by the white fringe which curled round the long black
nose of our boat. It was a place and a
time for dreaming. I thought of my own
past life, of all the great deeds in which I had been concerned, of the horses
that I had handled, and of the women that I had loved. Then I thought also of my dear mother, and I
fancied her joy when she heard the folk in the village talking about the fame
of her son. Of the Emperor also I
thought, and of
When I say that he fell upon me I do not mean merely that he attacked me, but that he really did tumble upon me with all his weight. The fellow stands behind you and above you as he rows, so that you can neither see him nor can you in any way guard against such an assault.
One moment I had sat with my mind filled with sublime resolutions, the next I was flattened out upon the bottom of the boat, the breath dashed out of my body, and this monster pinning me down. I felt the fierce pants of his hot breath upon the back of my neck. In an instant he had torn away my sword, had slipped a sack over my head, and had tied a rope firmly round the outside of it.
There I was at the bottom of the gondola as helpless as a trussed fowl. I could not shout, I could not move; I was a mere bundle. An instant later I heard once more the swishing of the water and the creaking of the oar.
This fellow had done his work and had resumed his journey as quietly and unconcernedly as if he were accustomed to clap a sack over a colonel of Hussars every day of the week.
I cannot tell you the humiliation and also the fury which filled my mind as I lay there like a helpless sheep being carried to the butcher's. I, Etienne Gerard, the champion of the six brigades of light cavalry and the first swordsman of the Grand Army, to be overpowered by a single unarmed man in such a fashion! Yet I lay quiet, for there is a time to resist and there is a time to save one's strength. I had felt the fellow's grip upon my arms, and I knew that I would be a child in his hands. I waited quietly, therefore, with a heart which burned with rage, until my opportunity should come.
How long I lay there at the bottom of the boat I can not tell; but it seemed to me to be a long time, and always there were the hiss of the waters and the steady creaking of the oar. Several times we turned corners, for I heard the long, sad cry which these gondoliers give when they wish to warn their fellows that they are coming. At last, after a considerable journey, I felt the side of the boat scrape up against a landing-place. The fellow knocked three times with his oar upon wood, and in answer to his summons I heard the rasping of bars and the turning of keys. A great door creaked back upon its hinges.
"Have you got him?" asked a voice, in Italian.
My monster gave a laugh and kicked the sack in which I lay.
"Here he is," said he.
"They are waiting." He added something which I could not understand.
"Take him, then," said my captor. He raised me in his arms, ascended some steps, and I was thrown down upon a hard floor. A moment later the bars creaked and the key whined once more. I was a prisoner inside a house.
From the voices and the steps there seemed now to be several people round me. I understand Italian a great deal better than I speak it, and I could make out very well what they were saying.
"You have not killed him, Matteo?"
"What matter if I have?"
"My faith, you will have to answer for it to the tribunal."
"They will kill him, will they not?"
"Yes, but it is not for you or me to take it out of their hands."
"Tut! I have not killed him. Dead men do not bite, and his cursed teeth met in my thumb as I pulled the sack over his head."
"He lies very quiet."
"Tumble him out and you will find that he is lively enough."
The cord which bound me was undone and the sack drawn from over my head. With my eyes closed I lay motionless upon the floor.
"By the saints, Matteo, I tell you that you have broken his neck."
"Not I. He has only fainted. The better for him if he never came out of it again."
I felt a hand within my tunic.
"Matteo is right," said a voice. "His heart beats like a hammer. Let him lie and he will soon find his senses."
I waited for a minute or so and then I ventured to take a stealthy peep from between my lashes. At first I could see nothing, for I had been so long in darkness and it was but a dim light in which I found myself. Soon, however, I made out that a high and vaulted ceiling covered with painted gods and goddesses was arching over my head. This was no mean den of cut-throats into which I had been carried, but it must be the hall of some Venetian palace. Then, without movement, very slowly and stealthily I had a peep at the men who surrounded me. There was the gondolier, a swart, hard-faced, murderous ruffian, and beside him were three other men, one of them a little, twisted fellow with an air of authority and several keys in his hand, the other two tall young servants in a smart livery. As I listened to their talk I saw that the small man was the steward of the house, and that the others were under his orders.
There were four of them, then, but the little steward might be left out of the reckoning. Had I a weapon I should have smiled at such odds as those. But, hand to hand, I was no match for the one even without three others to aid him. Cunning, then, not force, must be my aid. I wished to look round for some mode of escape, and in doing so I gave an almost imperceptible movement of my head. Slight as it was it did not escape my guardians.
"Come, wake up, wake up!" cried the steward.
"Get on your feet, little Frenchman," growled the gondolier. "Get up, I say," and for the second time he spurned me with his foot.
Never in the world was a command obeyed so promptly as that one. In an instant I had bounded to my feet and rushed as hard as I could to the back of the hall. They were after me as I have seen the English hounds follow a fox, but there was a long passage down which I tore.
It turned to the left and again to the left, and then I found myself back in the hall once more. They were almost within touch of me and there was no time for thought. I turned toward the staircase, but two men were coming down it. I dodged back and tried the door through which I had been brought, but it was fastened with great bars and I could not loosen them. The gondolier was on me with his knife, but I met him with a kick on the body which stretched him on his back. His dagger flew with a clatter across the marble floor. I had no time to seize it, for there were half a dozen of them now clutching at me. As I rushed through them the little steward thrust his leg before me and I fell with a crash, but I was up in an instant, and breaking from their grasp I burst through the very middle of them and made for a door at the other end of the hall. I reached it well in front of them, and I gave a shout of triumph as the handle turned freely in my hand, for I could see that it led to the outside and that all was clear for my escape. But I had forgotten this strange city in which I was. Every house is an island. As I flung open the door, ready to bound out into the street, the light of the hall shone upon the deep, still, black water which lay flush with the topmost step.
I shrank back, and in an instant my pursuers were on me.
But I am not taken so easily. Again I kicked and fought my way through them, though one of them tore a handful of hair from my head in his effort to hold me. The little steward struck me with a key and I was battered and bruised, but once more I cleared a way in front of me.
Up the grand staircase I rushed, burst open the pair of huge folding doors which faced me, and learned at last that my efforts were in vain.
The room into which I had broken was brilliantly
lighted. With its gold cornices, its
massive pillars, and its painted walls and ceilings it was evidently the grand
hall of some famous Venetian palace.
There are many hundred such in this strange city, any one of which has
rooms which would grace the Louvre or
A group of armed men--rough-looking rascals--were standing round the door, and amid them facing the dais was a young fellow in the uniform of the light infantry. As he turned his head I recognised him. It was Captain Auret, of the 7th, a young Basque with whom I had drunk many a glass during the winter.
He was deadly white, poor wretch, but he held himself manfully amid the assassins who surrounded him. Never shall I forget the sudden flash of hope which shone in his dark eyes when he saw a comrade burst into the room, or the look of despair which followed as he understood that I had come not to change his fate but to share it.
You can think how amazed these people were when I hurled myself into their presence. My pursuers had crowded in behind me and choked the doorway, so that all further flight was out of the question. It is at such instants that my nature asserts itself. With dignity I advanced toward the tribunal. My jacket was torn, my hair was dishevelled, my head was bleeding, but there was that in my eyes and in my carriage which made them realise that no common man was before them. Not a hand was raised to arrest me until I halted in front of a formidable old man, whose long grey beard and masterful manner told me that both by years and by character he was the man in authority.
"Sir," said I, "you will, perhaps, tell me why I have been forcibly arrested and brought to this place. I am an honourable soldier, as is this other gentleman here, and I demand that you will instantly set us both at liberty."
There was an appalling silence to my appeal. It was not pleasant to have twelve masked faces turned upon you and to see twelve pairs of vindictive Italian eyes fixed with fierce intentness upon your face. But I stood as a debonair soldier should, and I could not but reflect how much credit I was bringing upon the Hussars of Conflans by the dignity of my bearing. I do not think that anyone could have carried himself better under such difficult circumstances. I looked with a fearless face from one assassin to another, and I waited for some reply.
It was the grey-beard who at last broke the silence.
"Who is this man?" he asked.
"His name is Gerard," said the little steward at the door.
"Colonel Gerard," said I. "I will not deceive you. I am Etienne Gerard, THE Colonel Gerard, five times mentioned in despatches and recommended for the sword of honour. I am aide-de-camp to General Suchet, and I demand my instant release, together with that of my comrade in arms."
The same terrible silence fell upon the assembly, and the same twelve pairs of merciless eyes were bent upon my face. Again it was the grey-beard who spoke.
"He is out of his order. There are two names upon our list before him."
"He escaped from our hands and burst into the room."
"Let him await his turn. Take him down to the wooden cell."
"If he resist us, your Excellency?"
"Bury your knives in his body. The tribunal will uphold you. Remove him until we have dealt with the others."
They advanced upon me, and for an instant I thought of resistance. It would have been a heroic death, but who was there to see it or to chronicle it? I might be only postponing my fate, and yet I had been in so many bad places and come out unhurt that I had learned always to hope and to trust my star. I allowed these rascals to seize me, and I was led from the room, the gondolier walking at my side with a long naked knife in his hand. I could see in his brutal eyes the satisfaction which it would give him if he could find some excuse for plunging it into my body.
They are wonderful places, these great Venetian houses, palaces, and fortresses, and prisons all in one. I was led along a passage and down a bare stone stair until we came to a short corridor from which three doors opened. Through one of these I was thrust and the spring lock closed behind me. The only light came dimly through a small grating which opened on the passage.
Peering and feeling, I carefully examined the chamber in which I had been placed. I understood from what I had heard that I should soon have to leave it again in order to appear before this tribunal, but still it is not my nature to throw away any possible chances.
The stone floor of the cell was so damp and the walls for some feet high were so slimy and foul that it was evident they were beneath the level of the water. A single slanting hole high up near the ceiling was the only aperture for light or air. Through it I saw one bright star shining down upon me, and the sight filled me with comfort and with hope. I have never been a man of religion, though I have always had a respect for those who were, but I remember that night that the star shining down the shaft seemed to be an all-seeing eye which was upon me, and I felt as a young and frightened recruit might feel in battle when he saw the calm gaze of his colonel turned upon him.
Three of the sides of my prison were formed of stone, but the fourth was of wood, and I could see that it had only recently been erected. Evidently a partition had been thrown up to divide a single large cell into two smaller ones. There was no hope for me in the old walls, in the tiny window, or in the massive door. It was only in this one direction of the wooden screen that there was any possibility of exploring. My reason told me that if I should pierce it--which did not seem very difficult--it would only be to find myself in another cell as strong as that in which I then was. Yet I had always rather be doing something than doing nothing, so I bent all my attention and all my energies upon the wooden wall. Two planks were badly joined, and so loose that I was certain I could easily detach them. I searched about for some tool, and I found one in the leg of a small bed which stood in the corner. I forced the end of this into the chink of the planks, and I was about to twist them outward when the sound of rapid footsteps caused me to pause and to listen.
I wish I could forget what I heard. Many a hundred men have I seen die in battle, and I have slain more myself than I care to think of, but all that was fair fight and the duty of a soldier. It was a very different matter to listen to a murder in this den of assassins. They were pushing someone along the passage, someone who resisted and who clung to my door as he passed. They must have taken him into the third cell, the one which was farthest from me. "Help! Help!" cried a voice, and then I heard a blow and a scream. "Help! Help!" cried the voice again, and then "Gerard! Colonel Gerard!" It was my poor captain of infantry whom they were slaughtering.
"Murderers! Murderers!" I yelled, and I kicked at my door, but again
I heard him shout and then everything was silent. A minute later there was a heavy splash, and
I knew that no human eye would ever see Auret again. He had gone as a hundred others had gone
whose names were missing from the roll-calls of their regiments during that
winter in
The steps returned along the passage, and I thought that they were coming for me. Instead of that they opened the door of the cell next to mine and they took someone out of it. I heard the steps die away up the stair.
At once I renewed my work upon the planks, and within a very few minutes I had loosened them in such a way that I could remove and replace them at pleasure. Passing through the aperture I found myself in the farther cell, which, as I expected, was the other half of the one in which I had been confined. I was not any nearer to escape than I had been before, for there was no other wooden wall which I could penetrate and the spring lock of the door had been closed. There were no traces to show who was my companion in misfortune. Closing the two loose planks behind me I returned to my own cell and waited there with all the courage which I could command for the summons which would probably be my death knell.
It was a long time in coming, but at last I heard the sound of feet once more in the passage, and I nerved myself to listen to some other odious deed and to hear the cries of the poor victim. Nothing of the kind occurred, however, and the prisoner was placed in the cell without violence. I had no time to peep through my hole of communication, for next moment my own door was flung open and my rascally gondolier, with the other assassins, came into the cell.
"Come, Frenchman," said he. He held his blood- stained knife in his great, hairy hand, and I read in his fierce eyes that he only looked for some excuse in order to plunge it into my heart. Resistance was useless. I followed without a word. I was led up the stone stair and back into that gorgeous chamber in which I had left the secret tribunal. I was ushered in, but to my surprise it was not on me that their attention was fixed. One of their own number, a tall, dark young man, was standing before them and was pleading with them in low, earnest tones. His voice quivered with anxiety and his hands darted in and out or writhed together in an agony of entreaty. "You cannot do it! You cannot do it!" he cried.
"I implore the tribunal to reconsider this decision."
"Stand aside, brother," said the old man who presided.
"The case is decided and another is up for judgment."
"For Heaven's sake be merciful!" cried the young man.
"We have already been merciful," the other answered.
"Death would have been a small penalty for such an offence. Be silent and let judgment take its course."
I saw the young man throw himself in an agony of grief into his chair. I had no time, however, to speculate as to what it was which was troubling him, for his eleven colleagues had already fixed their stern eyes upon me.
The moment of fate had arrived.
"You are Colonel Gerard?" said the terrible old man.
"I am."
"Aide-de-camp to the robber who calls himself General Suchet, who in turn represents that arch-robber Buonaparte?"
It was on my lips to tell him that he was a liar, but there is a time to argue and a time to be silent.
"I am an honourable soldier," said I. "I have obeyed my orders and done my duty."
The blood flushed into the old man's face and his eyes blazed through his mask.
"You are thieves and murderers, every man of you," he cried. "What are you doing here? You are Frenchmen.
Why are you not in
He was, indeed, a formidable old man, for his white beard
bristled with fury and he barked out the little sentences like a savage
hound. For my part I could have told him
that his pictures would be safe in
"The prisoner has no defence," said one of my masked judges.
"Has any one any observation to make before judgment is passed?" The old man glared round him at the others.
"There is one matter, your Excellency," said another.
"It can scarce be referred to without reopening a brother's wounds, but I would remind you that there is a very particular reason why an exemplary punishment should be inflicted in the case of this officer."
"I had not forgotten it," the old man answered.
"Brother, if the tribunal has injured you in one direction, it will give you ample satisfaction in another."
The young man who had been pleading when I entered the room staggered to his feet.
"I cannot endure it," he cried. "Your Excellency must forgive me. The tribunal can act without me. I am ill.
I am mad." He flung his hands out with a furious gesture and rushed from the room.
"Let him go! Let him go!" said the president. "It is, indeed, more than can be asked of flesh and blood that he should remain under this roof. But he is a true Venetian, and when the first agony is over he will understand that it could not be otherwise."
I had been forgotten during this episode, and though I am not a man who is accustomed to being overlooked I should have been all the happier had they continued to neglect me. But now the old president glared at me again like a tiger who comes back to his victim.
"You shall pay for it all, and it is but justice that you should," he said. "You, an upstart adventurer and foreigner, have dared to raise your eyes in love to the grand daughter of a Doge of Venice who was already betrothed to the heir of the Loredans. He who enjoys such privileges must pay a price for them."
"It cannot be higher than they are worth," said I.
"You will tell us that when you have made a part payment," said he. "Perhaps your spirit may not be so proud by that time. Matteo, you will lead this prisoner to the wooden cell. To-night is Monday. Let him have no food or water, and let him be led before the tribunal again on Wednesday night. We shall then decide upon the death which he is to die."
It was not a pleasant prospect, and yet it was a reprieve. One is thankful for small mercies when a hairy savage with a blood-stained knife is standing at one's elbow. He dragged me from the room and I was thrust down the stairs and back into my cell. The door was locked and I was left to my reflections.
My first thought was to establish connection with my neighbour in misfortune. I waited until the steps had died away, and then I cautiously drew aside the two boards and peeped through. The light was very dim, so dim that I could only just discern a figure huddled in the corner, and I could hear the low whisper of a voice which prayed as one prays who is in deadly fear. The boards must have made a creaking. There was a sharp exclamation of surprise.
"Courage, friend, courage!" I cried. "All is not lost.
Keep a stout heart, for Etienne Gerard is by your side."
"Etienne!" It was a woman's voice which spoke--a voice which was always music to my ears. I sprang through the gap and I flung my arms round her.
"Lucia! Lucia!" I cried.
It was "Etienne!" and "Lucia!" for some minutes, for one does not make speeches at moments like that. It was she who came to her senses first.
"Oh, Etienne, they will kill you. How came you into their hands?"
"In answer to your letter."
"I wrote no letter."
"The cunning demons! But you?"
"I came also in answer to your letter."
"Lucia, I wrote no letter."
"They have trapped us both with the same bait."
"I care nothing about myself, Lucia. Besides, there is no pressing danger with me. They have simply returned me to my cell."
"Oh, Etienne, Etienne, they will kill you. Lorenzo is there."
"The old greybeard?"
"No, no, a young dark man. He loved me, and I thought I loved him until--until I learned what love is, Etienne. He will never forgive you. He has a heart of stone."
"Let them do what they like. They cannot rob me of the past, Lucia. But you--what about you?"
"It will be nothing, Etienne. Only a pang for an instant and then all over. They mean it as a badge of infamy, dear, but I will carry it like a crown of honour since it was through you that I gained it."
Her words froze my blood with horror. All my adventures were insignificant compared to this terrible shadow which was creeping over my soul.
"Lucia! Lucia!" I cried. "For pity's sake tell me what these butchers are about to do. Tell me, Lucia!
Tell me!"
"I will not tell you, Etienne, for it would hurt you far more than it would me. Well, well, I will tell you lest you should fear it was something worse. The president has ordered that my ear be cut off, that I may be marked for ever as having loved a Frenchman."
Her ear! The dear little ear which I had kissed so often. I put my hand to each little velvet shell to make certain that this sacrilege had not yet been committed.
Only over my dead body should they reach them. I swore it to her between my clenched teeth.
"You must not care, Etienne. And yet I love that you should care all the same."
"They shall not hurt you--the fiends!"
"I have hopes, Etienne. Lorenzo is there. He was silent while I was judged, but he may have pleaded for me after I was gone."
"He did. I heard him."
"Then he may have softened their hearts."
I knew that it was not so, but how could I bring myself to tell her? I might as well have done so, for with the quick instinct of woman my silence was speech to her.
"They would not listen to him! You need not fear to tell me, dear, for you will find that I am worthy to be loved by such a soldier. Where is Lorenzo now?"
"He left the hall."
"Then he may have left the house as well."
"I believe that he did."
"He has abandoned me to my fate. Etienne, Etienne, they are coming!"
Afar off I heard those fateful steps and the jingle of distant keys. What were they coming for now, since there were no other prisoners to drag to judgment? It could only be to carry out the sentence upon my darling.
I stood between her and the door, with the strength of a lion in my limbs. I would tear the house down before they should touch her.
"Go back! Go back!" she cried. "They will murder you, Etienne. My life, at least, is safe. For the love you bear me, Etienne, go back. It is nothing. I will make no sound. You will not hear that it is done."
She wrestled with me, this delicate creature, and by main force she dragged me to the opening between the cells. But a sudden thought had crossed my mind.
"We may yet be saved," I whispered. "Do what I tell you at once and without argument. Go into my cell.
Quick!"
I pushed her through the gap and helped her to replace the planks. I had retained her cloak in my hands, and with this wrapped round me I crept into the darkest corner of her cell. There I lay when the door was opened and several men came in. I had reckoned that they would bring no lantern, for they had none with them before.
To their eyes I was only a dark blur in the corner.
"Bring a light," said one of them.
"No, no; curse it!" cried a rough voice, which I knew to be that of the ruffian, Matteo. "It is not a job that I like, and the more I saw it the less I should like it. I am sorry, signora, but the order of the tribunal has to be obeyed."
My impulse was to spring to my feet and to rush through them all and out by the open door. But how would that help Lucia? Suppose that I got clear away, she would be in their hands until I could come back with help, for single-handed I could not hope to clear a way for her. All this flashed through my mind in an instant, and I saw that the only course for me was to lie still, take what came, and wait my chance. The fellow's coarse hand felt about among my curls--those curls in which only a woman's fingers had ever wandered. The next instant he gripped my ear and a pain shot through me as if I had been touched with a hot iron. I bit my lip to stifle a cry, and I felt the blood run warm down my neck and back.
"There, thank Heaven, that's over," said the fellow, giving me a friendly pat on the head. "You're a brave girl, signora, I'll say that for you, and I only wish you'd have better taste than to love a Frenchman. You can blame him and not me for what I have done."
What could I do save to lie still and grind my teeth at my own helplessness? At the same time my pain and my rage were always soothed by the reflection that I had suffered for the woman whom I loved. It is the custom of men to say to ladies that they would willingly endure any pain for their sake, but it was my privilege to show that I had said no more than I meant. I thought also how nobly I would seem to have acted if ever the story came to be told, and how proud the regiment of Conflans might well be of their colonel. These thoughts helped me to suffer in silence while the blood still trickled over my neck and dripped upon the stone floor. It was that sound which nearly led to my destruction.
"She's bleeding fast," said one of the valets. "You had best fetch a surgeon or you will find her dead in the morning."
"She lies very still and she has never opened her mouth," said another. "The shock has killed her."
"Nonsense; a young woman does not die so easily." It was Matteo who spoke. "Besides, I did but snip off enough to leave the tribunal's mark upon her. Rouse up, signora, rouse up!"
He shook me by the shoulder, and my heart stood still for fear he should feel the epaulet under the mantle.
"How is it with you now?" he asked.
I made no answer.
"Curse it, I wish I had to do with a man instead of a
woman, and the fairest woman in
It was all over. The worst had happened. Nothing could save me. I still crouched in the corner, but I was tense in every muscle, like a wild cat about to spring.
If I had to die I was determined that my end should be worthy of my life.
One of them had gone for a lamp and Matteo was stooping over me with a handkerchief. In another instant my secret would be discovered. But he suddenly drew himself straight and stood motionless. At the same instant there came a confused murmuring sound through the little window far above my head. It was the rattle of oars and the buzz of many voices. Then there was a crash upon the door upstairs, and a terrible voice roared: "Open! Open in the name of the Emperor!"
The Emperor! It was like the mention of some saint which, by its very sound, can frighten the demons.
Away they ran with cries of terror--Matteo, the valets, the steward, all of the murderous gang. Another shout and then the crash of a hatchet and the splintering of planks. There were the rattle of arms and the cries of French soldiers in the hall. Next instant feet came flying down the stair and a man burst frantically into my cell.
"Lucia!" he cried, "Lucia!" He stood in the dim light, panting and unable to find his words. Then he broke out again. "Have I not shown you how I love you, Lucia? What more could I do to prove it? I have betrayed my country, I have broken my vow, I have ruined my friends, and I have given my life in order to save you."
It was young Lorenzo Loredan, the lover whom I had superseded. My heart was heavy for him at the time, but after all it is every man for himself in love, and if one fails in the game it is some consolation to lose to one who can be a graceful and considerate winner.
I was about to point this out to him, but at the first word I uttered he gave a shout of astonishment, and, rushing out, he seized the lamp which hung in the corridor and flashed it in my face.
"It is you, you villain!" he cried. "You French coxcomb. You shall pay me for the wrong which you have done me."
But the next instant he saw the pallor of my face and the blood which was still pouring from my head.
"What is this?" he asked. "How come you to have lost your ear?"
I shook off my weakness, and pressing my handkerchief to my wound I rose from my couch, the debonair colonel of Hussars.
"My injury, sir, is nothing. With your permission we will not allude to a matter so trifling and so personal."
But Lucia had burst through from her cell and was pouring out the whole story while she clasped Lorenzo's arm.
"This noble gentleman--he has taken my place, Lorenzo! He has borne it for me. He has suffered that I might be saved."
I could sympathise with the struggle which I could see in the Italian's face. At last he held out his hand to me.
"Colonel Gerard," he said, "you are worthy of
a great love. I forgive you, for if you
have wronged me you have made a noble atonement. But I wonder to see you alive. I left the tribunal before you were judged,
but I understood that no mercy would be shown to any Frenchman since the
destruction of the ornaments of
"He did not destroy them," cried Lucia. "He has helped to preserve those in our palace."
"One of them, at any rate," said I, as I stooped and kissed her hand.
This was the way, my friends, in which I lost my ear. Lorenzo was found stabbed to the heart in the Piazza of St. Mark within two days of the night of my adventure. Of the tribunal and its ruffians, Matteo and three others were shot, the rest banished from the town.
Lucia, my lovely Lucia, retired into a convent at Murano after the French had left the city, and there she still may be, some gentle lady abbess who has perhaps long forgotten the days when our hearts throbbed together, and when the whole great world seemed so small a thing beside the love which burned in our veins. Or perhaps it may not be so. Perhaps she has not forgotten.
There may still be times when the peace of the cloister is broken by the memory of the old soldier who loved her in those distant days. Youth is past and passion is gone, but the soul of the gentleman can never change, and still Etienne Gerard would bow his grey head before her and would very gladly lose his other ear if he might do her a service.
Have I ever told you, my friends, the circumstances
connected with my joining the Hussars of Conflans at the time of the siege of
You must know, then, that it was in the Second Hussars--called the Hussars of Chamberan--that I had served as a lieutenant and as a junior captain. At the time I speak of I was only twenty-five years of age, as reckless and desperate a man as any in that great army.
It chanced that the war had come to a halt in
It was a long journey from
My new regiment formed part of the force which, under
Marshal Lannes, was then besieging the Spanish town of
You have read, no doubt, of this famous siege of
I will confess to you that cavalry are not of much use in a
siege, although there was a time when I would not have permitted anyone to have
made such an observation. The Hussars of
Conflans were encamped to the south of the town, and it was their duty to throw
out patrols and to make sure that no Spanish force was advancing from that
quarter. The colonel of the regiment was
not a good soldier, and the regiment was at that time very far from being in
the high condition which it afterwards attained. Even in that one evening I saw several things
which shocked me, for I had a high standard, and it went to my heart to see an
ill-arranged camp, an ill-groomed horse, or a slovenly trooper. That night I supped with twenty-six of my new
brother-officers, and I fear that in my zeal I showed them only too plainly
that I found things very different to what I was accustomed in the army of
There was silence in the mess after my remarks, and I felt that I had been indiscreet when I saw the glances that were cast at me. The colonel especially was furious, and a great major named Olivier, who was the fire-eater of the regiment, sat opposite to me curling his huge black moustaches, and staring at me as if he would eat me. However, I did not resent his attitude, for I felt that I had indeed been indiscreet, and that it would give a bad impression if upon this my first evening I quarrelled with my superior officer.
So far I admit that I was wrong, but now I come to the
sequel. Supper over, the colonel and
some other officers left the room, for it was in a farm-house that the mess was
held. There remained a dozen or so, and
a goat-skin of Spanish wine having been brought in we all made merry. Presently this Major Olivier asked me some
questions concerning the army of
You will sympathise with me.
Up there I had been the model for every officer of my years in the
army. I was the first swordsman, the
most dashing rider, the hero of a hundred adventures. Here I found myself not only unknown, but
even disliked. Was it not natural that I
should wish to tell these brave comrades what sort of man it was that had come
among them? Was it not natural that I
should wish to say, "Rejoice, my friends, rejoice! It is no ordinary man who has joined you
to-night, but it is I, THE Gerard, the hero of Ratisbon, the victor of
I dashed the tears of mortification from my eyes, and they laughed the more at the sight.
"Do you know, Captain Pelletan, whether Marshal Lannes is still with the army?" asked the major.
"I believe that he is, sir," said the other.
"Really, I should have thought that his presence was hardly necessary now that Captain Gerard has arrived."
Again there was a roar of laughter. I can see the ring of faces, the mocking eyes, the open mouths-- Olivier with his great black bristles, Pelletan thin and sneering, even the young sub-lieutenants convulsed with merriment. Heavens, the indignity of it! But my rage had dried my tears. I was myself again, cold, quiet, self-contained, ice without and fire within.
"May I ask, sir," said I to the major, "at what hour the regiment is paraded?"
"I trust, Captain Gerard, that you do not mean to alter our hours," said he, and again there was a burst of laughter, which died away as I looked slowly round the circle.
"What hour is the assembly?" I asked, sharply, of Captain Pelletan.
Some mocking answer was on his tongue, but my glance kept it there. "The assembly is at six," he answered.
"I thank you," said I. I then counted the company and found that I had to do with fourteen officers, two of whom appeared to be boys fresh from St. Cyr. I could not condescend to take any notice of their indiscretion.
There remained the major, four captains, and seven lieutenants.
"Gentlemen," I continued, looking from one to the other of them, "I should feel myself unworthy of this famous regiment if I did not ask you for satisfaction for the rudeness with which you have greeted me, and I should hold you to be unworthy of it if on any pretext you refused to grant it."
"You will have no difficulty upon that score," said the major. "I am prepared to waive my rank and to give you every satisfaction in the name of the Hussars of Conflans."
"I thank you," I answered. "I feel, however, that I have some claim upon these other gentlemen who laughed at my expense."
"Whom would you fight, then?" asked Captain Pelletan.
"All of you," I answered.
They looked in surprise from one to the other. Then they drew off to the other end of the room, and I heard the buzz of their whispers. They were laughing. Evidently they still thought that they had to do with some empty braggart. Then they returned.
"Your request is unusual," said Major Olivier, "but it will be granted. How do you propose to conduct such a duel? The terms lie with you."
"Sabres," said I. "And I will take you in order of seniority, beginning with you, Major Olivier, at five o'clock. I will thus be able to devote five minutes to each before the assembly is blown. I must, however, beg you to have the courtesy to name the place of meeting, since I am still ignorant of the locality."
They were impressed by my cold and practical manner.
Already the smile had died away from their lips.
Olivier's face was no longer mocking, but it was dark and stern.
"There is a small open space behind the horse lines," said he. "We have held a few affairs of honour there and it has done very well. We shall be there, Captain Gerard, at the hour you name."
I was in the act of bowing to thank them for their acceptance when the door of the mess-room was flung open and the colonel hurried into the room, with an agitated face.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I have been asked to call for a volunteer from among you for a service which involves the greatest possible danger. I will not disguise from you that the matter is serious in the last degree, and that Marshal Lannes has chosen a cavalry officer because he can be better spared than an officer of infantry or of engineers. Married men are not eligible. Of the others, who will volunteer?"
I need not say that all the unmarried officers stepped to the front. The colonel looked round in some embarrassment.
I could see his dilemma. It was the best man who should go, and yet it was the best man whom he could least spare.
"Sir," said I, "may I be permitted to make a suggestion?"
He looked at me with a hard eye. He had not forgotten my observations at supper. "Speak!" said he.
"I would point out, sir," said I, "that this mission is mine both by right and by convenience."
"Why so, Captain Gerard?"
"By right because I am the senior captain. By convenience because I shall not be missed in the regiments since the men have not yet learned to know me."
The colonel's features relaxed.
"There is certainly truth in what you say, Captain Gerard," said he. "I think that you are indeed best fitted to go upon this mission. If you will come with me I will give you your instructions."
I wished my new comrades good-night as I left the room, and I repeated that I should hold myself at their disposal at five o'clock next morning. They bowed in silence, and I thought that I could see from the expression of their faces that they had already begun to take a more just view of my character.
I had expected that the colonel would at once inform me what it was that I had been chosen to do, but instead of that he walked on in silence, I following behind him.
We passed through the camp and made our way across the trenches and over the ruined heaps of stones which marked the old wall of the town. Within, there was a labyrinth of passages formed among the debris of the houses which had been destroyed by the mines of the engineers. Acres and acres were covered with splintered walls and piles of brick which had once been a populous suburb. Lanes had been driven through it and lanterns placed at the corners with inscriptions to direct the wayfarer. The colonel hurried onward until at last, after a long walk, we found our way barred by a high grey wall which stretched right across our path.
Here behind a barricade lay our advance guard. The colonel led me into a roofless house, and there I found two general officers, a map stretched over a drum in front of them, they kneeling beside it and examining it carefully by the light of a lantern. The one with the clean-shaven face and the twisted neck was Marshal Lannes, the other was General Razout, the head of the engineers.
"Captain Gerard has volunteered to go," said the colonel.
Marshal Lannes rose from his knees and shook me by the hand.
"You are a brave man, sir," said he. "I have a present to make to you," he added, handing me a very tiny glass tube. "It has been specially prepared by Dr. Fardet. At the supreme moment you have but to put it to your lips and you will be dead in an instant."
This was a cheerful beginning. I will confess to you, my friends, that a cold chill passed up my back and my hair rose upon my head.
"Excuse me, sir," said I, as I saluted, "I am aware that I have volunteered for a service of great danger, but the exact details have not yet been given to me."
"Colonel Perrin," said Lannes, severely, "it is unfair to allow this brave officer to volunteer before he has learned what the perils are to which he will be exposed."
But already I was myself once more.
"Sir," said I, "permit me to remark that the greater the danger the greater the glory, and that I could only repent of volunteering if I found that there were no risks to be run."
It was a noble speech, and my appearance gave force to my words. For the moment I was a heroic figure.
As I saw Lannes's eyes fixed in admiration upon my face it
thrilled me to think how splendid was the debut which I was
making in the army of
"General Razout, explain the situation!" said Lannes, briefly.
The engineer officer rose, his compasses in his hand.
He led me to the door and pointed to the high grey wall which towered up amongst the debris of the shattered houses.
"That is the enemy's present line of defence," said he. "It is the wall of the great Convent of the Madonna. If we can carry it the city must fall, but they have run countermines all round it, and the walls are so enormously thick that it would be an immense labour to breach it with artillery. We happen to know, however, that the enemy have a considerable store of powder in one of the lower chambers. If that could be exploded the way would be clear for us."
"How can it be reached?" I asked.
"I will explain. We have a French agent within the town named Hubert. This brave man has been in constant communication with us, and he had promised to explode the magazine. It was to be done in the early morning, and for two days running we have had a storming party of a thousand Grenadiers waiting for the breach to be formed. But there has been no explosion, and for these two days we have had no communication from Hubert.
The question is, what has become of him?"
"You wish me to go and see?"
"Precisely. Is he ill, or wounded, or dead? Shall we still wait for him, or shall we attempt the attack elsewhere?
We cannot determine this until we have heard from him. This is a map of the town, Captain Gerard.
You perceive that within this ring of convents and
monasteries are a number of streets which branch off from a central
square. If you come so far as this
square you will find the cathedral at one corner. In that corner is the street of
"Clearly."
"You are to reach that house, to see him, and to find out if his plan is still feasible or if we must abandon it."
He produced what appeared to b