The Complete Brigadier Gerard Stories (44 page)

This Colonel Berkeley appeared to be an authority upon the question, for he removed the cigar from his mouth and he laid down the law in his strange, drawling voice.

‘The circumstances are unusual but not irregular, Lord Rufton,’ said he. ‘This gentleman has given a blow and this other gentleman has received it. That is a clear issue. Time and conditions depend upon the person who demands satisfaction. Very good. He claims it here and now, across the table. He is acting within his rights. I am prepared to accept the responsibility.’

There was nothing more to be said. Lord Rufton sat moodily in the corner with his brows drawn down and his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his riding breeches. Colonel Berkeley examined the two pistols and laid them both in the centre of the table. Lord Dacre was at one end and I at the other, with eight feet of shining mahogany between us. On the hearth-rug, with his back to the fire, stood the tall colonel, his handkerchief in his left hand, his cigar between two fingers of his right.

‘When I drop the handkerchief,’ said he, ‘you will pick up your pistols and you will fire at your own convenience. Are you ready?’

‘Yes,’ we cried.

His hand opened and the handkerchief fell. I bent swiftly forward and seized a pistol, but the table, as I have said, was eight feet across, and it was easier for this long-armed milord to reach the pistols than it was for me. I had not yet drawn myself straight before he fired, and to this it was that I owe my life. His bullet would have blown out my brains had I been erect. As it was it whistled through my curls. At the same instant, just as I threw up my own pistol to fire, the door flew open and a pair of arms were thrown round me. It was the beautiful, flushed, frantic face of Lady Jane which looked up into mine.

‘You sha’n’t fire! Colonel Gerard, for my sake don’t fire,’ she cried. ‘It is a mistake, I tell you, a mistake, a mistake! He is the best and dearest of husbands. Never
again shall I leave his side.’ Her hands slid down my arm and closed upon my pistol.

‘Jane, Jane,’ cried Lord Rufton; ‘come with me. You should not be here. Come away.’

‘It is all confoundedly irregular,’ said Colonel Berkeley.

‘Colonel Gerard, you won’t fire, will you? My heart would break if he were hurt.’

‘Hang it all, Jinny, give the fellow fair play,’ cried Lord Dacre. ‘He stood my fire like a man, and I won’t see him interfered with. Whatever happens I can’t get worse than I deserve.’

But already there had passed between me and the lady a quick glance of the eyes which told her everything. Her hands slipped from my arm. ‘I leave my husband’s life and my own happiness to Colonel Gerard,’ said she.

How well she knew me, this admirable woman! I stood for an instant irresolute, with the pistol cocked in my hand. My antagonist faced me bravely, with no blenching of his sunburnt face and no flinching of his bold, blue eyes.

‘Come, come, sir, take your shot!’ cried the colonel from the mat.

‘Let us have it, then,’ said Lord Dacre.

I would, at least, show them how completely his life was at the mercy of my skill. So much I owed to my own self-respect. I glanced round for a mark. The colonel was looking towards my antagonist, expecting to see him drop. His face was sideways to me, his long cigar projecting from his lips with an inch of ash at the end of it. Quick as a flash I raised my pistol and fired.

‘Permit me to trim your ash, sir,’ said I, and I bowed with a grace which is unknown among these islanders.

I am convinced that the fault lay with the pistol and not with my aim. I could hardly believe my own eyes when I saw that I had snapped off the cigar within half an inch of his lips. He stood staring at me with the ragged stub of the cigar-end sticking out from his singed moustache. I can see him now with his foolish, angry eyes and his long, thin, puzzled face. Then he began to talk. I have always said that the English are not really a phlegmatic or a taciturn nation if you stir them out of their groove. No one could have talked
in a more animated way than this colonel. Lady Jane put her hands over her ears.

‘Come, come, Colonel Berkeley,’ said Lord Dacre, sternly, ‘you forget yourself. There is a lady in the room.’

The colonel gave a stiff bow.

‘If Lady Dacre will kindly leave the room,’ said he, ‘I will be able to tell this infernal little Frenchman what I think of him and his monkey tricks.’

I was splendid at that moment, for I ignored the words that he had said and remembered only the extreme provocation.

‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I freely offer you my apologies for this unhappy incident. I felt that if I did not discharge my pistol Lord Dacre’s honour might feel hurt, and yet it was quite impossible for me, after hearing what this lady had said, to aim it at her husband. I looked round for a mark, therefore, and I had the extreme misfortune to blow your cigar out of your mouth when my intention had merely been to snuff the ash. I was betrayed by my pistol. This is my explanation, sir, and if after listening to my apologies you still feel that I owe you satisfaction, I need not say that it is a request which I am unable to refuse.’

It was certainly a charming attitude which I had assumed, and it won the hearts of all of them. Lord Dacre stepped forward and wrung me by the hand. ‘By George, sir,’ said he, ‘I never thought to feel towards a Frenchman as I do to you. You’re a man and a gentleman, and I can’t say more.’ Lord Rufton said nothing, but his hand-grip told me all that he thought. Even Colonel Berkeley paid me a compliment, and declared that he would think no more about the unfortunate cigar. And she––ah, if you could have seen the look she gave me, the flushed cheek, the moist eye, the tremulous lip! When I think of my beautiful Lady Jane it is at that moment that I recall her. They would have had me stay to dinner, but you will understand, my friends, that this was no time for either Lord Rufton or myself to remain at Gravel Hanger. This reconciled couple desired only to be alone. In the chaise he had persuaded her of his sincere repentance, and once again they were a loving husband and wife. If they were to
remain so it was best perhaps that I should go. Why should I unsettle this domestic peace? Even against my own will my mere presence and appearance might have their effect upon the lady. No, no, I must tear myself away––even her persuasions were unable to make me stop. Years afterwards I heard that the household of the Dacres was among the happiest in the whole country, and that no cloud had ever come again to darken their lives. Yet I dare say if he could have seen into his wife’s mind––but there, I say no more! A lady’s secret is her own, and I fear that she and it are buried long years ago in some Devonshire churchyard. Perhaps all that gay circle are gone and the Lady Jane only lives now in the memory of an old half-pay French brigadier. He at least can never forget.

Have I ever told you, my friends, the circumstances connected with my joining the Hussars of Conflans at the time of the siege of Saragossa and the very remarkable exploit which I performed in connection with the taking of that city? No? Then you have indeed something still to learn. I will tell it to you exactly as it occurred. Save for two or three men and a score or two of women, you are the first who have ever heard the story.

You must know, then, that it was in the 2nd 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 Germany, while it was still raging in Spain, so the Emperor, wishing to reinforce the Spanish army, transferred me as senior captain to the Hussars of Conflans, which were at that time in the 5th Army Corps under Marshal Lannes.

It was a long journey from Berlin to the Pyrenees. My new regiment formed part of the force which, under Marshal Lannes, was then besieging the Spanish town of Saragossa. I turned my horse’s head in that direction, therefore, and behold me a week or so later at the French head-quarters, whence I was directed to the camp of the Hussars of Conflans.

You have read, no doubt, of this famous siege of
Saragossa, and I will only say that no general could have had a harder task than that with which Marshal Lannes was confronted. The immense city was crowded with a horde of Spaniards––soldiers, peasants, priests––all filled with the most furious hatred of the French, and the most savage determination to perish before they would surrender. There were eighty thousand men in the town and only thirty thousand to besiege them. Yet we had a powerful artillery, and our Engineers were of the best. There was never such a siege, for it is usual that when the fortifications are taken the city falls, but here it was not until the fortifications were taken that the real fighting began. Every house was a fort and every street a battlefield, so that slowly, day by day, we had to work our way inwards, blowing up the houses with their garrisons until more than half the city had disappeared. Yet the other half was as determined as ever and in a better position for defence, since it consisted of enormous convents and monasteries with walls like the Bastille, which could not be so easily brushed out of our way. This was the state of things at the time that I joined the army.

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 Germany. 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 farmhouse 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 Germany and as to the part which I had myself played in the campaign. Flushed with the wine, I was drawn on from story to story. It was not unnatural, my friends. You will sympathize 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 Jena, the man who broke the square at Austerlitz’? I could not say all this. But I could at least tell them some incidents which would enable them to say it for themselves. I did so. They listened unmoved. I told them more. At last, after my tale of how I had guided the army across the Danube, one universal shout of laughter broke from them all. I sprang to my feet, flushed with shame and anger. They had drawn me on. They were making game of me. They were convinced that they had to do with a braggart and a liar. Was this my reception in the Hussars of Conflans? 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 regiment, 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
débris
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 onwards 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 advanced 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
début
which I was making in the army of Spain. If I died that night my name would not be forgotten. My new comrades and my old, divided in all else, would still have a point of union in their love and admiration of Etienne Gerard.

‘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
débris
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?’