witha
sure
swoop
,
and
a
merciless
steel
,
as
the
officials
of
imperial
government
wrote
him
out
;
of
a
truth
,
caravanserais
had
felt
the
tear
of
his
talons
,
and
battalions
staggered
under
the
blows
of
his
beak
;
but
he
had
two
desert
virtues
that
are
obsolete
in
the
civilised
world
:
he
had
gratitude
,
and
he
had
sincerity
.
Of
course
he
was
but
a
nomad
,
a
barbarian
,
a
robber
,
and
a
ruler
of
robbers
;
of
course
he
was
but
a
half-savage
Ishmaelite
,
or
he
would
long
have
abandoned
them
.
The
night
was
someway
spent
when
the
talk
of
wild-pigeon-blue
mares
and
sorrel
stallions
closed
between
the
Djied
and
his
guest
;
and
the
French
soldier
,
who
had
been
sent
hither
from
the
Bureau
Arabe
with
another
of
his
comrades
,
took
his
way
through
the
now
stilled
camp
where
the
cattle
were
sleeping
,
and
the
fires
were
burning
out
,
and
the
banner-folds
hung
motionless
in
the
lustre
of
the
stars
,
to
the
black
and
white
tent
prepared
for
him
.
A
spacious
one
,
close
to
the
chief
's
,
and
given
such
luxury
in
the
shape
of
ornamented
weapons
,
thick
carpets
,
and
soft
cushions
,
as
the
tribe
's
resources
,
drawn
from
many
a
raid
on
travellers
far
south
,
could
bring
together
to
testify
their
hospitality
.
As
he
opened
the
folds
and
entered
,
his
fellow-soldier
,
who
was
lying
on
his
back
,
with
his
heels
much
higher
than
his
head
,
and
a
short
pipe
in
his
teeth
,
tumbled
himself
up
with
a
rapid
summersault
,
and
stood
bolt
upright
,
giving
the
salute
;
a
short
,
sturdy
little
man
,
with
a
skin
burnt
like
a
coffee-berry
,
that
was
in
odd
contrast
with
his
light
dancing
blue
eyes
,
and
his
close-matted
curls
of
yellow
hair
.
"
Beg
pardon
,
sir
!
I
was
half
asleep
!
"
The
Chasseur
laughed
a
little
.
"
Do
n't
talk
English
;
somebody
will
hear
you
one
day
.
"
"
What
's
the
odds
if
they
do
,
sir
?
"
responded
the
other
.
"
It
relieves
one
's
feelins
a
little
.
All
of
'
em
know
I
'm
English
,
but
never
a
one
of
'
em
knew
what
you
are
.
The
name
you
was
enrolled
by
wo
n't
really
tell
'
em
nothing
.
They
guess
it
ai
n't
yours
.
That
cute
little
chap
,
Tata
,
he
says
to
me
yesterday
,
'
you
're
always
a
treatin
'
of
your
galonné
like
as
if
he
was
a
Prince
.
'
'
Dammee
!
'
says
I
,
'
I
'd
like
to
see
the
Prince
as
would
hold
a
candle
to
him
.
'
'
You
're
right
there
,
'
says
the
little
'
un
.
'
There
ai
n't
his
equal
for
takin
'
off
a
beggar
's
head
with
a
back
sweep
.
'
"
The
Corporal
laughed
a
little
again
,
as
he
tossed
himself
down
on
the
carpet
.
"
Well
,
it
's
something
to
have
one
virtue
!
But
have
a
care
what
those
chatterboxes
get
out
of
you
.
"
"
Lord
,
sir
.
Ai
n't
I
been
a
takin
'
care
these
ten
years
?
It
comes
quite
natural
now
.
I
could
n't
keep
my
tongue
still
;
that
would
n't
be
in
anyways
possible
.
So
I
've
let
it
run
on
oiled
wheels
on
a
thousand
rum
tracks
and
doublins
.
I
've
told
'
em
such
a
lot
of
amazin
'
stories
about
where
we
kem
from
,
that
they
've
got
half
a
million
different
styles
to
choose
out
of
.
Some
thinks
as
how
you
're
a
Polish
nob
,
what
got
into
hot
water
with
the
Russians
;
some
as
how
you
're
a
Italian
Prince
what
was
cleaned
out
like
Parma
and
them
was
;
some
as
how
you
're
a
Austrian
Archduke
that
have
cut
your
country
because
you
was
in
love
with
the
Empress
,
and
had
a
duel
about
her
that
scandalised
the
whole
empire
;
some
as
how
you
're
a
exiled
Spanish
grandee
a-come
to
learn
tactics
and
that
like
,
that
you
may
go
back
,
and
pitch
O'Donnell
into
the
middle
of
next
week
,
whenever
you
see
a
chance
to
cut
in
and
try
conclusions
with
him
.
Bless
you
,
sir
!
you
may
let
me
alone
for
bamboozling
'
of
anybody
!
"
The
Corporal
laughed
again
,
as
he
began
to
unharness
himself
.
There
was
in
him
a
certain
mingling
of
insouciance
and
melancholy
,
each
of
which
alternately
predominated
;
the
former
his
by
nature
,
the
latter
born
of
circumstance
.
"
If
you
can
outwit
our
friends
the
Zéphyrs
,
and
the
Loustics
,
and
the
Indigènes
,
you
have
reached
a
height
of
diplomacy
indeed
!
I
would
not
engage
to
do
it
myself
.
Take
my
word
for
it
,
ingenuity
is
always
dangerous
—
silence
is
always
safe
.
"
"
That
may
be
,
sir
,
"
responded
the
Chasseur
,
in
the
sturdy
English
with
which
his
bright
blue
eyes
danced
a
fitting
nationality
.
"
No
doubt
it
's
uncommon
good
for
them
as
can
bring
their
minds
to
it
—
just
like
water
instead
o
'
wine
—
but
it
's
very
tryin
'
,
like
the
teetotalism
.
You
might
as
well
tell
a
Newfoundland
not
to
love
a
splash
as
me
not
to
love
a
chatter
.
I
'd
cut
my
tongue
out
sooner
than
say
never
a
word
that
you
do
n't
wish
—
but
say
somethin
'
I
must
,
or
die
for
it
.
"
With
which
the
speaker
,
known
to
Algerian
fame
by
the
sobriquet
of
Crache-au-nez-d'la-Mort
,
from
the
hair-breadth
escapes
and
reckless
razzias
from
which
he
had
come
out
without
a
scratch
,
dropped
on
his
knees
,
and
began
to
take
off
the
trappings
of
his
fellow-soldier
,
with
as
reverential
a
service
as
though
he
were
a
Lord
of
the
Bedchamber
serving
a
Louis
Quatorze
.
The
other
motioned
him
gently
away
.
"
No
,
no.
I
have
told
you
a
thousand
times
we
are
comrades
and
equals
now
.
"
"
And
I
've
told
you
a
thousand
times
,
sir
,
that
we
are
n't
,
and
never
will
be
,
and
do
n't
ought
n't
to
be
,
"
replied
the
soldier
,
doggedly
,
drawing
off
the
spurred
and
dust-covered
boots
.
"
A
gentleman
's
a
gentleman
,
let
alone
what
straits
he
fall
into
.
"
"
But
ceases
to
be
one
as
soon
as
he
takes
a
service
he
cannot
requite
,
or
claims
a
superiority
he
does
not
possess
.
We
have
been
fellow-soldiers
for
twelve
years
—
"
"
So
we
have
,
sir
;
but
we
are
what
we
always
was
,
and
always
will
be
—
one
a
gentleman
,
t
'
other
a
scamp
.
If
you
think
so
be
as
I
've
done
a
good
thing
side
by
side
with
you
now
and
then
in
the
fightin
'
,
give
me
my
own
way
and
let
me
wait
on
you
when
I
can
.
I
ca
n't
do
much
on
it
when
those
other
fellows
'
eyes
is
on
us
;
but
here
I
can
and
I
will
—
beggin
'
your
pardon
—
so
there
's
an
end
of
it
.
One
may
speak
plain
in
this
place
with
nothing
but
them
Arabs
about
;
and
all
the
Army
know
well
enough
,
sir
,
that
if
it
were
n't
for
that
black
devil
,
Châteauroy
,
you
'd
have
had
your
officer
's
commission
and
your
troop
too
long
before
now
—
"
"
Oh
no.
There
are
scores
of
men
in
the
ranks
merit
promotion
better
far
than
I
do
.
And
,
—
leave
the
Colonel
's
name
alone
.
He
is
our
chief
,
whatever
else
he
be
.
"
The
words
were
calm
and
careless
,
but
they
carried
a
weight
with
them
that
was
not
to
be
disputed
;
"
Crache-au-nez-d'la-Mort
"
hung
his
head
a
little
and
went
on
unharnessing
his
Corporal
in
silence
,
contenting
himself
with
muttering
in
his
throat
that
it
was
true
for
all
that
,
and
the
whole
regiment
knew
it
.
"
You
are
happy
enough
in
Algeria
—
eh
?
"
asked
the
one
he
served
,
as
he
stretched
himself
on
the
skins
and
carpets
,
and
drank
down
a
sherbet
that
his
self-attached
attendant
had
made
with
a
skill
learned
from
a
pretty
cantinière
who
had
given
him
the
lesson
in
return
for
a
slashing
blow
with
which
he
had
struck
down
two
"
Riz-pain-sels
,
"
who
as
the
best
paid
men
in
the
army
had
tried
to
cheat
her
in
the
price
of
her
cognac
.
"
I
,
sir
?
Never
was
so
happy
in
my
life
,
sir
.
I
'd
be
discontented
indeed
if
I
was
n't
.
Always
some
spicy
bit
of
fighting
.
If
there
are
n't
a
fantasia
,
as
they
call
it
,
in
the
field
,
there
's
always
somebody
to
pot
in
a
small
way
;
and
if
you
're
lying
by
in
barracks
there
's
always
a
scrimmage
hot
as
pepper
to
be
got
up
with
fellows
that
love
the
row
just
as
well
as
you
do
.
It
's
life
,
that
's
where
it
is
;
it
ai
n't
rustin
'
.
"
"
Then
you
prefer
the
French
service
?
"
"
Right
and
away
,
sir
.
You
see
this
is
how
it
is
,
"
and
the
redoubtable
yellow-haired
"
Crache-au-nez-d'la-Mort
"
paused
in
the
vigorous
cleansing
and
brushing
he
was
bestowing
on
his
Corporal
's
uniform
,
and
stood
at
ease
in
his
shirt
and
trousers
with
his
eloquence
noway
impeded
by
the
brûle-gueule
that
was
always
between
his
teeth
.
"
Over
there
in
England
,
you
know
,
sir
,
pipeclay
is
the
deuce-and-all
,
you
've
always
got
to
have
the
stock
on
,
and
look
as
stiff
as
a
stake
,
or
it
's
all
up
with
you
;
you
're
that
tormented
about
little
things
that
you
get
riled
and
kick
the
traces
before
the
great
'
uns
come
to
try
you
.
There
's
a
lot
of
lads
would
be
game
as
game
could
be
in
battle
,
ay
,
and
good
lads
to
boot
,
doing
their
duty
right
as
a
trivet
when
it
came
to
anything
like
war
,
that
are
clean
druv
'
out
of
the
service
in
time
o
'
peace
,
along
with
all
them
petty
persecutions
that
worry
a
man
's
skin
like
mosquito-bites
.
Now
here
they
know
that
,
and
Lord
!
what
soldiers
they
do
make
thro
'
knowing
of
it
!
It
's
tight
enough
and
stern
enough
in
big
things
;
martial
law
sharp
enough
,
and
obedience
to
the
letter
all
through
the
campaigning
;
but
that
do
n't
grate
on
a
fellow
;
if
he
's
worth
his
salt
he
's
sure
to
understand
that
he
must
move
like
clockwork
in
a
fight
,
and
that
he
's
to
go
to
hell
at
double-quick-march
,
and
mute
as
a
mouse
,
if
his
officers
see
fit
to
send
him
.
That
'
s
all
right
,
but
they
do
n't
fidget
you
here
about
the
little
fal-lals
;
you
may
stick
your
pipe
in
your
mouth
,
you
may
have
your
lark
,
you
may
do
as
you
like
,
you
may
spend
your
décompte
how
you
choose
,
you
may
settle
your
little
duel
as
you
will
,
you
may
shout
and
sing
and
jump
and
riot
on
the
march
,
so
long
as
you
march
on
;
you
may
lounge
about
half-dressed
in
any
style
as
suits
you
best
,
so
long
as
you
're
up
to
time
when
the
trumpets
sound
for
you
;
and
that
's
what
a
man
likes
.
He
's
ready
to
be
a
machine
when
the
machine
's
wanted
in
working
trim
,
but
when
it
's
run
off
the
line
and
the
steam
all
let
off
,
he
do
like
to
oil
his
own
wheels
,
and
lie
a
bit
in
the
sun
at
his
fancy
.
There
are
n't
better
stuff
to
make
soldiers
out
of
nowhere
than
Englishmen
,
God
bless
'
em
!
but
they
're
badgered
,
they
're
horribly
badgered
,
and
that
's
why
the
Service
do
n't
take
over
there
,
let
alone
the
way
the
country
grudge
'
em
every
bit
of
pay
.
In
England
you
go
in
the
ranks
—
well
,
they
all
just
tell
you
you
're
a
blackguard
,
and
there
's
the
lash
,
and
you
'd
better
behave
yourself
or
you
'll
get
it
hot
and
hot
;
they
take
for
granted
you
're
a
bad
lot
or
you
would
n't
be
there
,
and
in
course
you
're
riled
and
go
to
the
bad
according
,
seeing
that
it
's
what
's
expected
of
you
.
Here
,
contrariwise
,
you
come
in
the
ranks
and
get
a
welcome
,
and
feel
that
it
just
rests
with
yourself
whether
you
wo
n't
be
a
fine
fellow
or
not
;
and
just
along
of
feelin
'
that
you
're
pricked
to
show
the
best
metal
you
're
made
on
,
and
not
to
let
nobody
else
beat
you
out
of
the
race
like
.
Ah
!
it
makes
a
wonderful
difference
to
a
fellow
—
a
wonderful
difference
—
whether
the
service
he
's
come
into
look
at
him
as
a
scamp
that
never
will
be
nothin
'
but
a
scamp
,
or
as
a
rascal
that
's
maybe
got
in
him
,
all
rascal
though
he
is
,
the
pluck
to
turn
into
a
hero
.
It
makes
a
wonderful
difference
,
this
'
ere
,
whether
you
're
looked
at
as
stuff
that
's
only
fit
to
be
shovelled
into
the
sand
after
a
battle
,
or
as
stuff
that
'll
belike
churn
into
a
great
man
.
And
it
's
just
that
difference
,
sir
,
that
France
has
found
out
,
and
England
has
n't
—
God
bless
her
all
the
same
!
"
With
which
the
soldier
whom
England
had
turned
adrift
,
and
France
had
won
in
her
stead
,
concluded
his
long
oration
by
dropping
on
his
knees
to
refill
his
corporal
's
chibouque
.
"
A
army
's
just
a
machine
,
sir
,
in
course
,
"
he
concluded
,
as
he
rammed
in
the
Turkish
tobacco
.
"
But
then
it
's
a
live
machine
for
all
that
;
and
each
little
bit
of
it
feels
for
itself
like
the
joints
in
an
eel
's
body
.
Now
,
if
only
one
of
them
little
bits
smarts
,
the
whole
crittur
goes
wrong
—
there
's
the
mischief
.
"
Bel-à-faire-peur
listened
thoughtfully
to
his
comrade
where
he
lay
flung
full
length
on
the
skins
.
"
I
dare
say
you
are
right
enough
.
I
knew
nothing
of
my
men
when
—
when
I
was
in
England
;
we
none
of
us
did
;
but
I
can
very
well
believe
what
you
say
.
Yet
—
fine
fellows
though
they
are
here
,
they
are
terrible
blackguards
!
"
"
In
course
they
are
,
sir
;
they
would
n't
be
such
larky
company
unless
they
was
.
But
what
I
say
is
that
they
're
scamps
who
're
told
they
may
be
great
men
if
they
like
;
not
scamps
who
're
told
that
because
they
're
once
gone
to
the
devil
they
must
always
keep
there
.
It
makes
all
the
difference
in
life
.
"
"
Yes
—
it
makes
all
the
difference
in
life
,
whether
hope
is
left
,
or
—
left
out
!
"
The
words
were
murmured
with
a
half
smile
that
had
a
dash
of
infinite
sadness
in
it
;
the
other
looked
at
him
quickly
with
a
shadow
of
keen
pain
passing
over
the
bright
,
frank
,
laughing
features
of
his
sunburnt
face
;
he
knew
that
the
brief
words
held
the
whole
history
of
a
life
.
"
Wo
n't
there
never
be
no
hope
,
sir
?
"
he
whispered
,
while
his
voice
trembled
a
little
under
the
long
fierce
"
Zéphyr
"
sweep
of
his
yellow
moustaches
.
The
Chasseur
rallied
himself
with
a
slight
,
careless
laugh
;
the
laugh
with
which
he
had
met
before
now
the
onslaught
of
charges
ferocious
as
those
of
the
magnificent
day
of
Mazagran
.
"
Whom
for
?
Both
of
us
?
Oh
yes
,
very
likely
we
shall
achieve
fame
,
and
die
sous-officiers
or
gardes-champêtres
!
A
splendid
destiny
.
"
"
No
,
sir
,
"
said
the
other
,
with
the
hesitation
still
in
the
quiver
of
his
voice
.
"
You
know
I
meant
,
no
hope
of
your
ever
being
again
—
"
He
stopped
;
he
scarcely
knew
how
to
phrase
the
thoughts
he
was
thinking
.
The
other
moved
with
a
certain
impatience
.
"
How
often
must
I
tell
you
to
forget
that
I
was
ever
anything
except
a
soldier
of
France
?
—
forget
as
I
have
forgotten
it
?
"
The
audacious
,
irrepressible
"
Crache-au-nez-d'la-Mort
,
"
whom
nothing
could
daunt
and
nothing
could
awe
,
looked
penitent
and
ashamed
as
a
chidden
spaniel
.
"
I
know
,
sir
.
I
have
tried
many
a
year
,
but
I
thought
,
perhaps
,
as
how
his
Lordship
's
death
—
"
"
No
life
and
no
death
can
make
any
difference
to
me
,
except
the
death
that
some
day
an
Arbico
's
lunge
will
give
me
;
and
that
is
a
long
time
coming
.
"
"
Ah
,
for
God
's
sake
,
Mr.
Cecil
,
do
n't
talk
like
this
!
"
The
Chasseur
gave
a
short
,
sharp
shiver
,
and
started
at
the
name
,
as
if
a
bullet
had
struck
him
.
"
Never
say
that
again
!
"
Rake
,
Algerian-christened
Crache-au-nez-d'la-Mort
,
stammered
a
contrite
apology
.
"
I
never
have
done
,
sir
,
—
not
for
never
a
year
,
but
it
wrung
it
out
of
me
like
—
you
talking
of
wanting
death
in
that
way
—
"
"
Oh
,
I
do
n't
want
death
!
"
laughed
the
other
,
with
a
low
,
indifferent
laughter
,
that
had
in
it
a
singular
tone
of
sadness
all
the
while
.
"
I
am
of
our
friends
the
Spahis
'
opinion
—
that
life
is
very
pleasant
with
a
handsome
well-chosen
harem
,
and
a
good
horse
to
one
's
saddle
.
Unhappily
,
harems
are
too
expensive
for
Roumis
!
Yet
I
am
not
sure
that
I
am
not
better
amused
in
the
Chasseurs
than
I
was
in
the
Household
—
specially
when
we
are
at
war
.
I
suppose
we
must
be
wild
animals
at
the
core
,
or
we
should
never
find
such
an
infinite
zest
in
the
death-grapple
.
Good
night
!
"
He
stretched
his
long
,
slender
,
symmetrical
limbs
out
on
the
skins
that
made
his
bed
,
and
closed
his
eyes
,
with
the
chibouque
still
in
his
mouth
,
and
its
amber
bowl
resting
on
the
carpet
,
which
the
friendship
and
honour
of
Sidi-Ilderim
had
strewn
over
the
bare
turf
,
on
which
the
house
of
hair
was
raised
.
He
was
accustomed
to
sleep
as
soldiers
sleep
,
in
all
the
din
of
a
camp
,
or
with
the
roar
of
savage
brutes
echoing
from
the
hills
around
,
with
his
saddle
beneath
his
head
,
under
a
slab
of
rock
,
or
with
the
knowledge
that
at
every
instant
the
alarm
might
be
given
,
the
drums
roll
out
over
the
night
,
and
the
enemy
be
down
like
lightning
on
the
bivouac
.
But
now
a
name
—
long
unspoken
to
him
—
had
recalled
years
he
had
buried
far
and
for
ever
from
the
first
day
that
he
had
worn
the
képi
d
'
ordonnance
of
the
Army
of
Algeria
,
and
been
enrolled
amongst
its
wild
and
brilliant
soldiers
.
Now
,
long
after
his
comrade
had
slept
soundly
,
and
the
light
in
the
single
bronze
Turkish
candle-branch
had
flickered
and
died
away
,
the
Chasseur
d
'
Afrique
lay
wakeful
,
looking
outward
through
the
folds
of
the
tent
at
the
dark
and
silent
camp
of
the
Arabs
,
and
letting
his
memory
drift
backward
to
a
time
that
had
grown
to
be
to
him
as
a
dream
—
a
time
when
another
world
than
the
world
of
Africa
had
known
him
as
Bertie
Cecil
.
CHAPTER
IV
.
CIGARETTE
EN
BIENFAITRICE
.
"
Oh
hé
!
We
are
a
queer
lot
;
a
very
queer
lot
.
Sweepings
of
Europe
,
"
said
Claude
de
Chanrellon
,
dashing
some
vermout
off
his
golden
moustaches
,
where
he
lay
full
length
on
three
chairs
outside
the
café
in
the
Place
du
Gouvernement
,
where
the
lamps
were
just
alit
,
and
shining
through
the
burnished
moonlight
of
an
Algerian
evening
,
and
the
many-coloured
,
many-raced
,
picturesque
,
and
polyglot
population
of
the
town
were
all
fluttering
out
with
the
sunset
,
like
so
many
gay-coloured
moths
.
"
Hein
!
Diamonds
are
found
in
the
chiffonnier
's
sweepings
,
"
growled
a
General
of
Division
,
who
was
the
most
terrible
martinet
in
the
whole
of
the
French
service
,
but
who
loved
"
mes
enfans
d'enfer
,
"
as
he
was
wont
to
term
his
men
,
with
a
great
love
,
and
who
would
never
hear
another
disparage
them
,
however
he
might
order
them
blows
of
the
matraque
,
or
exile
them
to
Beylick
himself
.
"
You
are
poetic
,
mon
Général
,
"
said
Claude
de
Chanrellon
;
"
but
you
are
true
.
We
are
a
furnace
in
which
Blackguardism
is
burnt
into
Dare-devilry
,
and
turned
out
as
Heroism
.
A
fine
manufacture
that
,
and
one
at
which
France
has
no
equal
.
"
"
But
our
manufactures
keep
the
original
hall-mark
,
and
show
that
the
devil
made
them
if
the
drill
have
moulded
them
!
"
urged
a
Colonel
of
Tirailleurs
Indigènes
.
Chanrellon
laughed
,
knocking
the
ash
off
a
huge
cigar
.
"
Pardieu
!
We
do
our
original
maker
credit
,
then
;
nothing
good
in
this
world
without
a
dash
of
diablerie
.
Scruples
are
the
wet
blankets
,
proprieties
are
the
blank
walls
,
principles
are
the
quickset-hedges
of
life
,
but
devilry
is
its
champagne
!
"
"
Ventre-bleu
!
"
growled
the
General
.
"
We
have
a
right
to
praise
the
blackguards
;
without
them
our
conscripts
would
be
very
poor
trash
.
The
conscript
fights
because
he
has
to
fight
,
the
blackguard
fights
because
he
loves
to
fight
.
A
great
difference
that
.
"
The
Colonel
of
Tirailleurs
lifted
his
eyes
;
a
slight
pale
effeminate
dark-eyed
Parisian
,
who
looked
scarcely
stronger
than
a
hothouse
flower
,
yet
who
,
as
many
an
African
chronicle
could
tell
,
was
swift
as
fire
,
keen
as
steel
,
unerring
as
a
leopard
's
leap
,
untiring
as
an
Indian
on
trail
,
once
in
the
field
with
his
Indigènes
.
"
In
proportion
as
one
loves
powder
,
one
has
been
a
scoundrel
,
mon
Général
,
"
he
murmured
;
"
what
the
catalogue
of
your
crimes
must
be
!
"
The
tough
old
campaigner
laughed
grimly
;
he
took
it
as
a
high
compliment
.
"
Sapristi
!
The
cardinal
virtues
do
n't
send
anybody
,
I
guess
,
into
African
service
.
And
yet
,
pardieu
,
I
do
n't
know
.
What
fellows
I
have
known
!
I
have
had
men
among
my
Zéphyrs
—
and
they
were
the
wildest
pratiques
too
—
that
would
have
ruled
the
world
!
I
have
had
more
wit
,
more
address
,
more
genius
,
more
devotion
,
in
some
headlong
scamp
of
a
loustic
than
all
the
courts
and
cabinets
would
furnish
.
Such
lives
,
such
lives
too
,
morbleu
!
"
And
he
drained
his
absinthe
thoughtfully
,
musing
on
the
marvellous
vicissitudes
of
war
,
and
on
the
patrician
blood
,
the
wasted
wit
,
the
Beaumarchais
talent
,
the
Mirabeau
power
,
the
adventures
like
a
page
of
fairy
tale
,
the
brains
whose
strength
could
have
guided
a
sceptre
,
which
he
had
found
and
known
,
hidden
under
the
rough
uniform
of
a
Zéphyr
,
buried
beneath
the
canvas
shirts
of
a
Roumi
,
lost
for
ever
in
the
wild
lawless
escapades
of
rebellious
pratiques
,
29
who
closed
their
days
in
the
stifling
darkness
of
the
dungeons
of
Beylick
,
or
in
some
obscure
skirmish
,
some
midnight
vidette
,
where
an
Arab
flissa
severed
the
cord
of
the
warped
life
,
and
the
death
was
unhonoured
by
even
a
line
in
the
Gazettes
du
Jour
.
"
Faith
!
"
laughed
Chanrellon
,
regardless
of
the
General
's
observation
,
"
if
we
all
published
our
memoirs
,
the
world
would
have
a
droll
book
.
Dumas
and
Terrail
would
be
beat
out
of
the
field
.
The
real
recruiting-sergeants
that
send
us
to
the
ranks
would
be
soon
found
to
be
—
"
"
Women
,
"
growled
the
General
.
"
Cards
,
"
sighed
the
Colonel
.
"
Absinthe
,
"
muttered
another
.
"
Mussetism
in
a
garret
.
"
"
Politics
un
peu
trop
fort
.
"
"
A
comedy
that
was
hissed
.
"
"
Carbonarist
vows
when
one
was
a
fool
.
"
"
The
spleen
.
"
"
The
dice
.
"
"
The
roulette
.
"
"
The
natural
desire
of
humanity
to
kill
and
to
get
killed
!
"
"
Morbleu
!
"
cried
Chanrellon
,
as
the
voices
closed
,
"
all
those
mischiefs
beat
the
drum
,
and
send
volunteers
to
the
ranks
,
sure
enough
;
but
the
General
named
the
worst
.
Look
at
that
little
Cora
;
the
Minister
of
War
should
give
her
the
Cross
.
She
sends
us
ten
times
more
fire-eaters
than
the
Conscription
does
.
Five
fine
fellows
—
of
the
vieille
roche
too
—
joined
to-day
,
because
she
has
stripped
them
of
everything
,
and
they
have
nothing
for
it
but
the
service
.
She
is
invaluable
,
Cora
.
"
"
And
there
is
not
much
to
look
at
in
her
either
,
"
objected
a
Captain
,
who
commanded
Turcos
.
"
I
saw
her
when
our
detachment
went
to
show
in
Paris
.
A
baby
face
,
innocent
as
a
cherub
—
a
soft
voice
—
a
shape
that
looks
as
slight
and
as
breakable
as
the
stem
of
my
glass
—
there
is
the
end
!
"
The
Colonel
of
Tirailleurs
laughed
scornfully
but
gently
;
he
had
been
a
great
lion
of
the
fashionable
world
before
he
came
out
to
his
Indigènes
.
"
The
end
of
Cora
!
The
end
of
her
is
—
'
l
'
Enfer
!
'
My
good
Alcide
—
that
'
baby
face
'
has
ruined
more
of
us
than
would
make
up
a
battalion
.
She
is
so
quiet
,
so
tender
;
smiles
like
an
angel
,
glides
like
a
fawn
;
is
a
little
sad
too
,
the
innocent
dove
;
looks
at
you
with
eyes
as
clear
as
water
,
and
paf
!
before
you
know
where
you
are
,
she
has
pillaged
with
both
hands
,
and
you
wake
one
fine
morning
bankrupt
!
"
"
Why
do
you
let
her
do
it
?
"
growled
the
vieille
moustache
,
who
had
served
under
Junot
when
a
little
lad
,
and
had
scant
knowledge
of
the
ways
and
wiles
of
the
syrens
of
the
Rue
Bréda
.
"
Ah-bah
!
"
said
the
Colonel
,
with
a
shrug
of
his
shoulders
;
"
it
is
the
thing
to
be
ruined
by
Cora
.
There
is
Bébée-je-m'enfous
;
there
is
Blonde-Miou-Miou
;
there
is
the
Cerisette
;
there
is
Neroli
;
there
is
Loto
—
any
one
of
them
is
equally
good
style
with
Cora
;
but
to
be
at
all
in
the
fashion
,
one
must
have
been
talked
of
with
one
of
the
six
.
"
"
Diantre
!
"
sighed
Claude
de
Chanrellon
,
stretching
his
handsome
limbs
,
with
a
sigh
of
recollection
;
for
Paris
had
been
a
Paradise
Lost
to
him
for
many
seasons
,
and
he
had
had
of
late
years
but
one
solitary
glimpse
of
it
.
"
It
was
Coeur
d'Acier
who
was
the
rage
in
my
time
.
She
ate
me
up
—
that
woman
—
in
three
months
.
I
had
not
a
hundred
francs
left
:
she
stripped
me
as
bare
as
a
pigeon
.
Her
passion
was
emeralds
en
cabochon
just
then
.
Well
,
emeralds
en
cabochon
made
an
end
of
me
,
and
sent
me
out
here
.
Coeur
d'Acier
was
a
wonderful
woman
!
—
and
the
chief
wonder
of
her
was
,
that
she
was
as
ugly
as
sin
.
"
"
Ugly
?
"
"
Ugly
as
sin
!
But
she
had
the
knack
of
making
herself
more
charming
than
Venus
.
How
she
did
it
nobody
knew
;
but
men
left
the
prettiest
creatures
for
her
:
and
she
ruined
us
,
I
think
,
at
the
rate
of
a
score
a
month
.
"
"
Like
Loto
,
"
chimed
in
the
Tirailleur
.
"
Loto
has
not
a
shred
of
beauty
.
She
is
a
big
,
angular
,
raw-boned
Normande
,
with
a
rough
voice
,
and
a
villanous
patois
;
but
to
be
well
with
Loto-is
to
have
achieved
distinction
at
once
.
She
will
have
nothing
under
the
third
order
of
nobility
;
and
Prince
Paul
shot
the
Duc
de
Var
about
her
the
other
day
.
She
is
a
great
creature
,
Loto
:
nobody
knows
her
secret
.
"
"
L'audace
,
mon
ami
;
toujours
de
l'audace
,
"
said
Chanrellon
,
with
a
twist
of
his
superb
moustaches
.
"
It
is
the
finest
quality
out
;
nothing
so
sure
to
win
.
Hallo
!
there
is
le
beau
caporal
listening
.
Ah
!
Bel-à-faire-peur
,
you
fell
,
too
,
among
the
Lotos
and
the
Coeurs
d'Acier
once
,
I
will
warrant
.
"
The
Chasseur
,
who
was
passing
,
paused
and
smiled
a
little
as
he
saluted
.
"
Coeurs
d'Acier
are
to
be
found
in
all
ranks
of
the
sex
,
monsieur
,
I
fancy
?
"
"
Bah
!
you
beg
the
question
.
Did
not
a
woman
send
you
out
here
—
eh
?
"
"
No
,
monsieur
,
—
only
chance
.
"
"
A
fig
for
your
chance
!
Women
are
the
mischief
that
casts
us
adrift
to
chance
.
"
"
Monsieur
,
we
cast
ourselves
sometimes
.
"
"
Dieu
de
Dieu
!
I
doubt
that
.
We
should
go
straight
enough
if
it
were
not
for
them
.
"
The
Chasseur
smiled
again
.
"
M
.
le
Viscomte
thinks
we
are
sure
to
be
right
then
,
if
,
for
the
key
to
every
black
story
,
we
ask
,
'
Who
was
she
?
'
"
"
Of
course
I
do
.
Well
!
who
was
she
?
We
are
all
quoting
our
tempters
to-night
.
Give
us
your
story
,
mon
brave
!
"
"
Monsieur
,
you
have
it
in
the
folios
matricules
,
as
well
as
my
sword
could
write
it
.
"
"
Good
,
good
!
"
muttered
the
listening
General
.
The
soldier-like
answer
pleased
him
,
and
he
looked
attentively
at
the
giver
of
it
.
Chanrellon
's
brown
eyes
flashed
a
bright
response
.
"
And
your
sword
writes
in
a
brave
man
's
fashion
—
writes
what
France
loves
to
read
.
But
before
you
wore
your
sword
here
?
Tell
us
of
that
.
It
was
a
romance
—
was
n't
it
?
"
"
If
it
were
,
I
have
folded
down
the
page
,
monsieur
.
"
"
Open
it
,
then
!
Come
—
what
brought
you
out
amongst
us
?
You
had
gamed
au
roi
dépouillé
—
that
was
it
?
Out
with
it
!
"
"
Monsieur
,
direct
obedience
is
a
soldier
's
duty
;
but
I
never
heard
that
inquisitive
annoyance
was
an
officer
's
privilege
?
"
The
words
were
calm
,
cold
,
a
little
languid
,
and
a
little
haughty
.
The
manner
of
old
habit
,
the
instinct
of
buried
pride
,
spoke
in
them
,
and
disregarded
the
barrier
between
a
private
of
Chasseurs
who
was
but
a
sous-officier
,
and
a
Colonel
Commandant
who
was
also
a
noble
of
France
.
Involuntarily
,
all
the
men
sitting
round
the
little
tables
,
outside
the
café
,
turned
and
looked
at
him
.
The
boldness
of
speech
and
the
quietude
of
tone
drew
all
their
eyes
in
curiosity
upon
him
.
Chanrellon
flushed
scarlet
over
his
frank
brow
,
and
an
instant
's
passion
gleamed
out
of
his
eyes
:
the
next
,
he
threw
his
three
chairs
down
with
a
crash
,
as
he
shook
his
mighty
frame
like
an
Alpine
dog
,
and
bowed
with
a
French
grace
,
with
a
campaigner
's
frankness
.
"
A
right
rebuke
!
—
fairly
given
,
and
well
deserved
.
I
thank
you
for
the
lesson
.
"
The
Chasseur
looked
surprised
and
moved
;
in
truth
,
he
was
more
touched
than
he
showed
.
Under
the
rule
of
Châteauroy
,
consideration
or
courtesy
had
been
things
long
unshown
to
him
.
Involuntarily
,
forgetful
of
rank
,
he
stretched
his
hand
out
,
on
the
impulse
of
soldier
to
soldier
,
of
gentleman
to
gentleman
.
Then
,
as
the
bitter
remembrance
of
the
difference
of
rank
and
station
between
them
flashed
on
his
memory
,
he
was
raising
it
,
proudly
but
deferentially
,
in
the
salute
of
a
subordinate
to
his
superior
,
when
Chanrellon
's
grasp
closed
on
it
readily
.
The
victim
of
Coeur
d
'
Acier
was
of
as
gallant
a
temper
as
ever
blent
the
reckless
condottière
with
the
thorough-bred
noble
.
The
Chasseur
coloured
slightly
,
as
he
remembered
that
he
had
forgotten
alike
his
own
position
and
their
relative
stations
.
"
I
beg
your
pardon
,
Monsieur
le
Vicomte
,
"
he
said
,
simply
,
as
he
gave
the
salute
with
ceremonious
grace
,
and
passed
onward
rapidly
,
as
though
he
wished
to
forget
and
to
have
forgotten
the
momentary
self-oblivion
of
which
he
had
been
guilty
.
"
Dieu
!
"
muttered
Chanrellon
,
as
he
looked
after
him
,
and
struck
his
hand
on
the
marble-topped
table
till
the
glasses
shook
.
"
I
would
give
a
year
's
pay
to
know
that
fine
fellow
's
history
.
He
is
a
gentleman
—
every
inch
of
him
.
"
"
And
a
good
soldier
,
which
is
better
,
"
growled
the
General
of
Brigade
,
who
had
begun
life
in
his
time
driving
an
ox-plough
over
the
heavy
tillage
of
Alsace
.
"
A
private
of
Châteauroy
's
—
eh
?
"
asked
the
Tirailleur
,
lifting
his
eye-glass
to
watch
the
Chasseur
as
he
went
.
"
Pardieu
,
—
yes
,
—
more
's
the
pity
,
"
said
Chanrellon
,
who
spoke
his
thoughts
as
hastily
as
a
hand-grenade
scatters
its
powder
.
"
The
Black
Hawk
hates
him
—
God
knows
why
—
and
he
is
kept
down
in
consequence
,
as
if
he
were
the
idlest
lout
or
the
most
incorrigible
rebel
in
the
service
.
Look
at
what
he
has
done
.
All
the
Bureaux
will
tell
you
there
is
not
a
finer
Roumi
in
Africa
—
not
even
among
our
Schaouacks
!
Since
he
joined
,
there
has
not
been
a
hot
and
heavy
thing
with
the
Arabs
that
he
has
not
had
his
share
in
.
There
has
not
been
a
campaign
in
Oran
or
Kabaila
that
he
has
not
gone
out
with
.
His
limbs
are
slashed
all
over
with
Bedouin
steel
.
He
rode
once
twenty
leagues
to
deliver
despatches
with
a
spear-head
in
his
side
,
and
fell
,
in
a
dead
faint
,
out
of
his
saddle
just
as
he
gave
them
up
to
the
commandant
's
own
hands
.
He
saved
the
day
,
two
years
ago
,
at
Granaila
.
We
should
have
been
cut
to
pieces
,
as
sure
as
destiny
,
if
he
had
not
collected
a
handful
of
broken
Chasseurs
together
,
and
rallied
them
,
and
rated
them
,
and
lashed
them
with
their
shame
,
till
they
dashed
with
him
to
a
man
into
the
thickest
of
the
fight
,
and
pierced
the
Arabs
'
centre
,
and
gave
us
breathing
room
,
till
we
all
charged
together
,
and
beat
the
Arbicos
back
like
a
herd
of
jackals
.
There
are
a
hundred
more
like
stories
of
him
—
every
one
of
them
true
as
my
sabre
;
—
and
,
in
reward
,
he
has
just
been
made
a
galonné
!
"
"
Superb
!
"
said
the
General
,
with
grim
significance
.
"
Ce
n'est
pas
à
la
France
—
ça
!
Twelve
years
!
In
five
under
Napoléon
,
he
would
have
been
at
the
head
of
a
brigade
;
but
then
"
—
and
the
veteran
drank
his
absinthe
with
a
regretful
melancholy
—
"
but
then
,
Napoléon
read
his
men
himself
and
never
read
them
wrong
.
It
is
a
divine
gift
that
for
commanders
.
"
"
The
Black
Hawk
can
read
,
too
,
"
said
Chanrellon
,
meditatively
;
it
was
the
"
petit
nom
,
"
that
Châteauroy
had
gained
long
before
,
and
by
which
he
was
best
known
through
the
army
.
"
No
eyes
are
keener
than
his
,
to
trace
a
lascar
kébir
.
But
,
where
he
hates
,
he
strikes
beak
and
talons
—
pong
!
—
till
the
thing
drops
dead
—
even
where
he
strikes
a
bird
of
his
own
brood
.
"
"
That
is
bad
,
"
said
the
old
General
,
sententiously
.
"
There
are
four
people
who
should
have
no
personal
likes
or
dislikes
:
they
are
an
innkeeper
,
a
school-master
,
a
ship
's
skipper
,
and
a
military
chief
.
"
With
which
axiom
he
called
for
some
more
vert-vert
.
Meanwhile
,
the
Chasseur
went
his
way
through
the
cosmopolitan
groups
of
the
great
square
.
A
little
farther
onward
,
laughing
,
smoking
,
chatting
,
eating
ices
outside
a
Café
Chantant
,
were
a
group
of
Englishmen
—
a
yachting
party
,
whose
schooner
lay
in
the
harbour
.
He
lingered
a
moment
,
and
lighted
a
fusee
,
just
for
sake
of
hearing
the
old
familiar
words
.
As
he
bent
his
head
above
the
vesuvian
,
no
one
saw
the
shadow
of
pain
that
passed
over
his
face
.
But
one
of
them
looked
at
him
curiously
and
earnestly
.
"
The
deuce
,
"
he
murmured
to
the
man
nearest
him
,
"
who
the
dickens
is
it
that
French
soldier
's
like
?
"
The
French
soldier
heard
,
and
,
with
the
cigar
in
his
teeth
,
moved
away
quickly
.
He
was
uneasy
in
the
city
—
uneasy
lest
he
should
be
recognised
by
any
passer-by
or
tourist
.
"
I
need
not
fear
that
,
though
,
"
he
thought
with
a
smile
.
"
Twelve
years
!
—
why
,
in
that
world
,
we
used
to
forget
the
blackest
ruin
in
ten
days
,
and
the
best
life
amongst
us
ten
hours
after
its
grave
was
closed
.
Besides
,
I
am
safe
enough
.
I
am
dead
!
"
And
he
pursued
his
onward
way
,
with
the
red
glow
of
the
cigar
under
the
chesnut
splendour
of
his
beard
,
and
the
black
eyes
of
veiled
Moresco
women
flashed
lovingly
on
his
tall
lithe
form
,
with
the
scarlet
ceinturon
swathed
round
his
loins
,
and
the
scarlet
undress
fez
set
on
his
forehead
,
fair
as
a
woman
's
still
,
despite
the
tawny
glow
of
the
Afric
sun
that
had
been
on
it
for
so
long
.
He
was
"
dead
;
"
therein
had
laid
all
his
security
;
thereby
had
"
Beauty
of
the
Brigades
"
been
buried
beyond
all
discovery
in
"
Bel-à-faire-peur
"
of
the
2nd
Chasseurs
d'Afrique
.
When
,
on
the
Marseilles
rails
,
the
maceration
and
slaughter
of
as
terrible
an
accident
as
ever
befel
a
train
rushing
through
midnight
darkness
,
at
headlong
speed
,
had
left
himself
and
the
one
man
faithful
to
his
fortunes
unharmed
by
little
less
than
a
miracle
,
he
had
seen
in
the
calamity
the
surest
screen
from
discovery
or
pursuit
.
Leaving
the
baggage
where
it
was
jammed
among
the
débris
,
he
had
struck
across
the
country
with
Rake
for
the
few
leagues
that
still
lay
between
them
and
the
city
,
and
had
entered
Marseilles
as
weary
foot
travellers
,
before
half
the
ruin
on
the
rails
had
been
seen
by
the
full
noon
sun
.
As
it
chanced
,
a
trading
yawl
was
loading
in
the
port
,
to
run
across
to
Algiers
that
very
day
.
The
skipper
was
short
of
men
,
and
afraid
of
the
Lascars
,
who
were
the
only
sailors
that
he
seemed
likely
find
,
to
fill
up
the
vacant
places
in
his
small
crew
.
Cecil
offered
himself
and
his
comrade
for
the
passage
.
He
had
only
a
very
few
gold
pieces
on
his
person
,
and
he
was
willing
to
work
his
way
across
,
if
he
could
.
"
But
you
're
a
gentleman
,
"
said
the
skipper
,
doubtfully
eyeing
him
,
and
his
velvet
dress
,
and
his
black
sombrero
with
its
eagle
's
plume
.
"
I
want
a
rare
,
rough
,
able
seaman
,
for
there
'll
be
like
to
be
foul
weather
.
She
looks
too
fair
to
last
,
"
he
concluded
,
with
a
glance
upward
at
the
sky
.
He
was
a
Liverpool
man
,
master
and
owner
of
his
own
rakish-looking
little
black-hulled
craft
,
that
,
rumour
was
wont
to
say
,
was
not
averse
to
a
bit
of
slaving
,
if
she
found
herself
in
far
seas
,
with
a
likely
run
before
her
.
"
You
're
a
swell
,
that
's
what
you
are
,
"
emphasized
the
skipper
.
"
You
bea
n't
no
sort
of
use
to
me
.
"
"
Wait
a
second
,
"
answered
Cecil
.
"
Did
you
ever
chance
to
hear
of
a
schooner
called
Regina
?
"
The
skipper
's
face
lighted
in
a
moment
.
"
Her
as
was
in
the
Biscay
,
July
come
two
years
?
—
her
as
druv
'
through
the
storm
like
a
mad
thing
,
and
flew
like
a
swallow
,
when
everything
was
splittin
'
and
founderin
'
,
and
shipping
seas
around
her
?
—
her
as
was
the
first
to
bear
down
to
the
great
Wrestler
,
a-lyin
'
there
hull
over
in
water
,
and
took
aboard
all
as
ever
she
could
hold
o
'
the
passengers
,
a-pitchin
'
out
her
own
beautiful
cabin
fittins
to
have
as
much
room
for
the
poor
wretches
as
ever
she
could
?
Be
you
a-meanin
'
her
?
"
Cecil
nodded
assent
.
"
She
was
my
yacht
,
that
's
all
;
and
I
was
without
a
captain
through
that
storm
.
Will
you
think
me
a
good
enough
sailor
now
?
"
The
skipper
wrung
his
hand
,
till
he
nearly
wrung
it
off
.
"
Good
enough
!
Blast
my
timbers
!
there
are
n't
one
will
beat
you
in
any
waters
.
Come
on
,
sir
,
if
so
be
as
you
wished
it
;
but
never
a
stroke
of
work
shall
you
do
atween
my
decks
.
I
never
did
think
as
how
one
of
your
yachting-nobs
could
ever
be
fit
to
lay
hold
of
a
tiller
;
but
,
hang
me
,
if
the
Club
make
such
sailors
as
you
it
's
a
rare
'
un
!
Lord
a
mercy
!
why
my
wife
was
in
the
Wrestler
.
I
've
heard
her
tell
scores
of
times
as
how
she
was
a'most
dead
when
that
little
yacht
came
through
a
swaling
sea
,
that
was
all
heavin
'
and
roarin
'
round
the
wreck
,
and
as
how
the
swell
what
owned
it
gev
'
his
cabin
up
to
the
womenkind
,
and
had
his
swivel-guns
and
his
handsome
furniture
pitched
overboard
,
that
he
might
be
able
to
carry
more
passengers
,
and
fed
'
em
,
and
gev
"
em
champagne
all
round
,
and
treated
'
em
like
a
Prince
,
till
he
ran
'
em
straight
into
Brest
Harbour
.
But
,
damn
me
!
that
ever
a
swell
like
you
should
—
"
"
Let
's
weigh
anchor
,
"
said
Bertie
,
quietly
.
And
so
he
crossed
unnoticed
to
Algeria
,
while
through
Europe
the
tidings
went
,
that
the
mutilated
form
,
crushed
between
iron
and
wood
,
on
the
Marseilles
line
,
was
his
,
and
that
he
had
perished
in
that
awful
,
ink-black
,
sultry
southern
night
,
when
the
rushing
trains
had
met
,
as
meet
the
thunder-clouds
.
The
world
thought
him
dead
;
as
such
,
the
journals
recorded
him
,
with
the
shameful
outlines
of
imputed
crime
,
to
make
the
death
the
darker
;
as
such
,
his
name
was
forbidden
to
be
uttered
at
Royallieu
;
as
such
,
the
Seraph
mourned
him
with
passionate
loving
force
,
refusing
to
the
last
to
accredit
his
guilt
:
—
and
he
,
leaving
them
in
their
error
,
was
drafted
into
the
French
Army
under
two
of
his
christian
names
,
which
happily
had
a
foreign
sound
—
Louis
Victor
—
and
laid
aside
for
ever
his
identity
as
Bertie
Cecil
.
He
went
at
once
on
service
in
the
interior
,
and
had
scarcely
come
in
any
of
the
larger
towns
since
he
had
joined
.
His
only
danger
of
recognition
had
once
been
when
a
Marshal
of
France
,
whom
he
had
used
to
know
well
in
Paris
and
at
the
Court
of
St.
James
,
held
an
inspection
of
the
African
troops
.
Filing
past
the
brilliant
staff
,
he
had
ridden
at
only
a
few
yards
'
distance
from
his
old
acquaintance
,
and
,
as
he
saluted
,
had
glanced
involuntarily
at
the
face
that
he
had
seen
oftentimes
in
the
Salles
des
Maréchaux
,
and
even
under
the
roof
of
Royallieu
.
The
great
chief
's
keen
blue
eyes
were
scrutinising
the
regiment
,
ready
to
note
a
chain
loose
,
a
belt
awry
,
a
sword
specked
with
rust
,
if
such
a
sin
there
were
against
"
les
ordonnances
"
in
all
the
glittering
squadrons
;
and
swept
over
him
,
seeing
in
him
but
one
among
thousands
—
a
unit
in
the
mighty
aggregate
of
the
"
raw
material
"
of
war
.
The
Marshal
only
muttered
to
a
General
beside
him
,
"
Why
do
n't
they
all
ride
like
that
man
?
He
has
the
seat
of
the
English
Guards
.
"
But
that
it
was
in
truth
an
officer
of
the
English
Guards
,
and
a
friend
of
his
own
,
who
paced
past
him
as
a
private
of
Algerian
Horse
,
the
French
leader
never
dreamed
.
From
the
extremes
of
luxury
,
indolence
,
indulgence
,
pleasure
,
and
extravagance
,
Cecil
came
to
the
extremes
of
hardship
,
poverty
,
discipline
,
suffering
,
and
toil
.
From
a
life
where
every
sense
was
gratified
,
he
came
to
a
life
where
every
privation
was
endured
.
He
had
led
the
fashion
;
—
he
came
where
he
had
to
bear
without
a
word
the
curses
,
oaths
,
and
insults
of
a
corporal
or
a
sous-lieutenant
.
He
had
been
used
to
every
delicacy
and
delight
;
—
he
came
where
he
had
to
take
the
coarse
black
bread
of
the
army
as
a
rich
repast
.
He
had
thought
it
too
much
trouble
to
murmur
flatteries
in
great
ladies
'
ears
;
—
he
came
where
morning
,
noon
,
and
night
the
inexorable
demands
of
rigid
rules
compelled
his
incessant
obedience
,
vigilance
,
activity
,
and
selfdenial
.
He
had
known
nothing
from
his
childhood
up
except
an
atmosphere
of
amusement
,
refinement
,
brilliancy
,
and
idleness
;
—
he
came
where
gnawing
hunger
,
brutalised
jest
,
ceaseless
toil
,
coarse
obscenity
,
agonised
pain
,
and
pandemoniac
mirth
,
alternately
filled
the
measure
of
the
days
.
A
sharper
contrast
,
a
darker
ordeal
,
rarely
tried
the
steel
of
any
man
's
endurance
;
yet
,
under
it
,
he
verified
the
truth
,
"
Bon
sang
ne
peut
mentir
.
"
No
Spartan
could
have
borne
the
change
more
mutely
,
more
staunchly
,
than
did
the
"
dandy
of
the
Household
.
"
The
first
years
were
,
it
is
true
,
years
of
intense
misery
to
him
.
Misery
,
when
all
the
blood
glowed
in
him
under
some
petty
tyrant
's
jibe
,
and
he
had
to
stand
immovable
,
holding
his
peace
.
Misery
,
when
the
hunger
and
thirst
of
long
marches
tortured
him
,
and
his
soul
sickened
at
the
half-raw
offal
,
and
the
water
thick
with
dust
,
and
stained
with
blood
,
which
the
men
round
him
seized
so
ravenously
.
Misery
,
when
the
dreary
dawn
broke
,
only
to
usher
in
a
day
of
mechanical
manoeuvres
,
of
petty
tyrannies
,
of
barren
burdensome
hours
in
the
exercise-ground
,
of
convoy
duty
in
the
burning
sun-glare
,
and
under
the
heat
of
harness
;
and
the
weary
night
fell
with
the
din
and
uproar
,
and
the
villanous
blasphemy
,
and
befouled
merriment
of
the
riotous
Chambrée
,
that
denied
even
the
peace
and
oblivion
of
sleep
.
They
were
years
of
infinite
wretchedness
oftentimes
,
only
relieved
by
the
loyalty
and
devotion
of
the
man
who
had
followed
him
into
his
exile
.
But
,
however
wretched
,
they
never
wrung
a
single
regret
or
lament
from
Cecil
.
He
had
come
out
to
this
life
;
he
took
it
as
it
was
.
As
,
having
lost
the
title
to
command
,
the
high
breeding
in
him
made
him
render
implicitly
the
mute
obedience
which
was
the
first
duty
of
his
present
position
,
so
it
made
him
accept
,
from
first
to
last
,
without
a
sign
of
complaint
or
of
impatience
,
the
altered
fortunes
of
his
career
.
The
hardest-trained
,
lowest-born
,
longest-inured
soldier
in
the
Zephyr
ranks
did
not
bear
himself
with
more
apparent
content
and
more
absolute
fortitude
than
did
the
man
who
had
used
to
think
it
a
cruelty
to
ride
with
his
troop
from
Windsor
to
Wormwood
Scrubs
,
and
had
never
taken
the
trouble
to
load
his
own
gun
any
shooting
season
,
or
to
draw
off
his
own
coat
any
evening
.
He
suffered
acutely
many
times
;
suffered
till
he
was
heart-sick
of
his
life
;
but
he
never
sought
to
escape
the
slightest
penalty
or
hardship
,
and
not
even
Rake
ever
heard
from
him
a
single
syllable
of
irritation
or
of
self-pity
.
Moreover
,
the
war-fire
woke
in
him
.
In
one
shape
or
another
,
active
service
was
almost
always
his
lot
,
and
hot
,
severe
campaigning
was
his
first
introduction
to
military
life
in
Algeria
.
The
latent
instinct
in
him
—
the
instinct
that
had
flashed
out
during
his
lazy
fashionable
calm
in
all
moments
of
danger
,
in
all
days
of
keen
sport
;
the
instinct
that
had
made
him
fling
himself
into
the
duello
with
the
French
boar
,
and
made
him
mutter
to
Forest
King
,
"
Kill
me
if
you
like
,
but
do
n't
fail
me
!
"
—
was
the
instinct
of
the
born
soldier
.
In
peril
,
in
battle
,
in
reckless
bravery
,
in
the
rush
of
the
charge
,
and
the
excitement
of
the
surprise
,
in
the
near
presence
of
death
,
and
in
the
chase
of
a
foe
through
a
hot
African
night
when
both
were
armed
to
the
teeth
,
and
one
or
both
must
fall
when
the
grapple
came
—
in
all
these
that
old
instinct
,
aroused
and
unloosed
,
made
him
content
;
made
him
think
that
the
life
which
brought
them
was
worth
the
living
.
There
had
always
been
in
him
a
reckless
daredevilry
,
which
had
slept
under
the
serene
effeminate
insouciance
of
his
careless
temper
and
his
pampered
habits
.
It
had
full
rein
now
,
and
made
him
,
as
the
army
affirmed
,
one
of
the
most
intrepid
,
victorious
,
and
chivalrous
lascars
of
its
fiery
ranks
.
Fate
had
flung
him
off
his
couch
of
down
into
the
tempest
of
war
,
into
the
sternness
of
life
spent
ever
on
the
border
of
the
grave
,
ruled
ever
by
an
iron
code
,
requiring
at
every
step
self-negation
,
fortitude
,
submission
,
courage
,
patience
,
the
self-control
which
should
take
the
uttermost
provocation
from
those
in
command
without
even
a
look
of
reprisal
,
and
the
courageous
recklessness
which
should
meet
death
,
and
deal
death
,
which
should
be
as
the
eagle
to
swoop
,
as
the
lion
to
rend
.
And
he
was
not
found
wanting
in
it
.
He
was
too
thorough-bred
to
attempt
to
claim
a
superiority
that
fortune
no
longer
conferred
on
him
,
to
seek
to
obtain
a
deference
that
he
had
no
longer
the
position
to
demand
.
He
obeyed
far
more
implicitly
than
many
a
ruffian
filibuster
,
who
had
been
amongst
the
dregs
of
society
from
his
birth
.
And
though
his
quick-eyed
comrades
knew
,
before
he
had
been
amongst
them
five
minutes
,
that
an
"
aristocrat
"
had
taken
refuge
under
the
Flag
of
Mazagran
,
they
never
experienced
from
him
one
touch
of
the
insolence
that
their
own
sous-officiers
beat
them
with
,
as
with
the
flat
of
the
sword
;
and
they
never
found
in
him
one
shadow
of
the
arrogance
that
some
fellow-soldier
,
who
had
swelled
into
a
sergeant-major
,
or
bristled
into
an
adjutant
,
would
strut
with
,
like
any
turkey-cock
.
He
was
too
quiet
,
too
courteous
,
too
calmly
listless
;
he
had
too
easy
a
grace
,
too
soft
a
voice
,
and
too
many
gentleman-habits
,
for
them
.
But
when
they
found
that
he
could
fight
like
a
Zouave
,
ride
like
an
Arab
,
and
bear
shot-wounds
or
desert-thirst
as
though
he
were
of
bronze
,
it
grew
a
delight
to
them
to
see
of
what
granite
and
steel
this
dainty
patrician
was
made
;
and
they
loved
him
with
a
rough
,
ardent
,
dog-like
love
,
when
they
found
that
his
last
crust
,
in
a
long
march
,
would
always
be
divided
;
that
the
most
desperate
service
of
danger
was
always
volunteered
for
by
him
;
that
no
severity
of
personal
chastisement
ever
made
him
clear
himself
of
a
false
charge
at
a
comrade
's
expense
;
and
that
all
his
décompte
went
in
giving
a
veteran
a
stoup
of
wine
,
or
a
sick
conscript
a
tempting
meal
,
or
a
prisoner
of
Beylick
some
food
through
the
grating
,
scaled
too
at
risk
of
life
and
limb
.
Cecil
had
all
a
soldier
's
temper
in
him
;
and
the
shock
which
had
hurled
him
out
of
ease
,
and
levity
,
and
ultra-luxury
,
to
stand
alone
before
as
dark
and
rugged
a
fortune
as
ever
fronted
any
man
,
had
awakened
the
war-fire
which
had
only
slumbered
because
lulled
by
habit
,
and
unaroused
by
circumstance
.
He
had
never
before
been
called
on
to
exert
either
thought
or
action
:
the
necessity
for
both
called
many
latent
qualities
in
him
into
play
.
The
same
nature
,
which
had
made
him
wish
to
be
killed
over
the
Grand
Military
course
,
rather
than
live
to
lose
the
race
,
made
him
now
bear
privation
as
calmly
,
and
risk
death
as
recklessly
,
as
the
hardiest
and
most
fiery
loustic
of
the
African
cantonments
.
Bitter
as
the
life
often
was
,
severe
the
suffering
,
and
acute
the
deprivation
,
the
sternest
veteran
scarcely
took
them
more
patiently
,
more
silently
,
than
the
"
aristocrat
,
"
to
whom
a
corked
claret
or
a
dusty
race-day
had
been
calamities
.
Cast
among
these
wild
,
iron-muscled
bohemians
,
who
fought
like
tigers
,
and
were
as
impenetrable
as
rhinoceri
,
"
race
"
was
too
strong
in
Cecil
not
to
hold
its
own
with
them
,
whether
in
the
quality
of
endurance
,
or
the
quality
of
daring
.
"
Main
de
femme
,
mais
main
de
fer
,
"
the
Roumis
were
wont
to
say
of
their
comrade
,
with
his
delicate
habits
,
"
comme
une
Marquise
du
Faubourg
,
"
as
they
would
growl
impatiently
;
and
his
tenacious
patience
,
which
would
never
give
way
either
in
the
toil
of
the
camp
or
the
grip
of
the
struggle
.
On
the
surface
it
seemed
as
though
never
was
there
a
life
more
utterly
thrown
away
than
the
life
of
a
Guardsman
and
a
gentleman
,
a
man
of
good
blood
,
high
rank
,
and
talented
gifts
had
he
ever
chosen
to
make
anything
of
them
,
buried
in
the
ranks
of
the
Franco-African
army
,
risking
a
nameless
grave
in
the
sand
with
almost
every
hour
,
associated
with
the
roughest
riffraff
of
Europe
,
liable
any
day
to
be
slain
by
the
slash
of
an
Arab
flissa
,
and
rewarded
for
twelve
years
'
splendid
service
by
the
distinctive
badge
of
a
corporal
.
Any
one
of
the
friends
of
his
former
years
,
seeing
him
thus
,
would
have
said
that
he
might
as
well
be
thrown
at
once
into
a
pit
in
the
sand
,
where
the
dead
were
piled
twenty
deep
after
a
skirmish
,
to
lie
and
rot
,
or
be
dug
up
by
the
talons
of
famished
beasts
,
whichever
might
chance
,
as
live
thus
in
the
obscurity
,
poverty
,
and
