Notthat
she
was
altogether
herself
to-night
;
she
was
feverish
,
she
was
bitter
,
she
was
full
of
stinging
ironies
;
but
that
delicious
gaiety
,
like
a
kitten
's
play
,
was
gone
from
her
,
and
its
place
,
for
the
first
time
in
her
life
,
was
supplied
by
unreal
and
hectic
excitation
.
In
truth
,
whilst
she
laughed
,
and
coquetted
,
and
fenced
with
the
bright
two-edged
blade
of
her
wit
,
and
tossed
down
the
wines
into
her
little
throat
like
a
trooper
,
she
was
thinking
nothing
at
all
of
what
was
around
her
,
and
very
little
of
what
she
said
or
she
did
.
She
was
thinking
of
the
starless
night
out
yonder
,
of
the
bleak
arid
country
,
of
the
great
,
dim
,
measureless
plains
;
of
one
who
was
passing
through
them
all
,
and
one
who
might
never
return
.
It
was
the
first
time
that
the
absent
had
ever
troubled
her
present
;
it
was
the
first
time
that
ever
this
foolish
,
senseless
,
haunting
,
unconquerable
fear
for
another
had
approached
her
:
fear
!
—
she
had
never
known
it
for
herself
,
why
should
she
feel
it
now
for
him
?
—
a
man
whose
lips
had
touched
her
own
as
lightly
,
as
indifferently
,
as
they
might
have
touched
the
leaves
of
a
rose
or
the
curls
of
a
dog
!
She
felt
her
face
burn
with
the
flush
of
a
keen
,
unbearable
,
passionate
shame
.
Men
by
the
score
had
wooed
her
love
,
to
be
flouted
with
the
insouciant
mischief
of
her
coquetry
,
and
forgotten
to-morrow
if
they
were
shot
to-day
;
and
now
he
—
he
whose
careless
,
calm
caress
would
make
her
heart
vibrate
and
her
limbs
tremble
with
an
emotion
she
had
never
known
—
he
valued
her
love
so
little
that
he
never
even
knew
that
he
had
roused
it
!
To
the
proud
young
warrior
of
France
a
greater
degradation
,
a
deadlier
humiliation
,
than
this
could
not
have
come
to
her
.
Yet
she
was
true
as
steel
to
him
;
true
with
the
strong
and
loyal
fealty
that
is
inborn
with
such
natures
as
hers
.
To
have
betrayed
what
he
had
trusted
to
her
,
because
she
was
neglected
and
wounded
by
him
,
would
have
been
a
feminine
baseness
of
which
the
soldier-like
soul
of
Cigarette
would
have
been
totally
incapable
.
Her
revenge
might
be
fierce
,
and
rapid
,
and
sure
,
like
the
revenge
of
a
soldier
;
but
it
could
never
be
stealing
and
traitorous
,
and
never
like
the
revenge
of
a
woman
.
Not
a
word
escaped
her
that
could
have
given
a
clue
to
the
secret
with
which
he
had
involuntarily
weighted
her
;
she
only
studied
with
interest
and
keenness
the
face
and
the
words
of
this
man
whom
he
had
loved
,
and
from
whom
he
had
fled
as
criminals
flee
from
their
accusers
.
"
What
is
your
name
?
"
she
asked
him
,
curtly
,
in
one
of
the
pauses
of
the
amorous
and
witty
nonsense
that
circulated
in
the
tent
in
which
the
officers
of
Chasseurs
were
entertaining
him
.
"
Well
—
some
call
me
Seraph
.
"
"
Ah
!
you
have
petits
noms
then
in
Albion
?
I
should
have
thought
she
was
too
sombre
and
too
stiff
for
them
.
Besides
?
"
"
Lyonnesse
.
"
"
What
a
droll
name
!
What
are
you
?
"
"
A
soldier
.
"
"
Good
!
What
grade
?
"
"
A
Colonel
of
Guards
.
"
Cigarette
gave
a
little
whistle
to
herself
;
she
remembered
that
a
Marshal
of
France
had
once
said
of
a
certain
Chasseur
,
"
He
has
the
seat
of
the
English
Guards
.
"
"
My
pretty
catechist
,
M
.
le
Duc
does
not
tell
you
his
title
,
"
cried
one
of
the
officers
.
Cigarette
interrupted
him
with
a
toss
of
her
head
.
"
Ouf
!
Titles
are
nothing
to
me
.
I
am
a
child
of
the
People
.
So
you
are
a
Duke
,
are
you
,
M
.
le
Seraph
?
Well
,
that
is
not
much
,
to
my
thinking
.
Bah
!
there
is
Fialin
made
a
Duke
in
Paris
,
and
there
are
aristocrats
here
wearing
privates
'
uniforms
,
and
littering
down
their
own
horses
.
Bah
!
Have
you
that
sort
of
thing
in
Albion
?
"
"
Attorneys
throned
on
high
,
and
gentlemen
glad
to
sweep
crossings
?
Oh
yes
!
"
laughed
her
interlocutor
.
"
But
you
speak
of
aristocrats
in
your
ranks
—
that
reminds
me
.
Have
you
not
in
this
corps
a
soldier
called
Louis
Victor
?
"
He
had
turned
as
he
spoke
to
one
of
the
officers
,
who
answered
him
in
the
affirmative
;
while
Cigarette
listened
with
all
her
curiosity
and
all
her
interest
,
that
needed
a
deeper
name
,
heightened
and
tight-strung
.
"
A
fine
fellow
,
"
continued
the
Chef
d'Escadron
to
whom
he
had
appealed
.
"
He
behaved
magnificently
the
other
day
at
Zarâila
;
he
must
be
distinguished
for
it
.
He
is
just
sent
on
a
perilous
errand
,
but
though
so
quiet
he
is
a
croc-mitaine
,
and
woe
to
the
Arabs
who
slay
him
!
Are
you
acquainted
with
him
?
"
"
Not
in
the
least
.
But
I
wished
to
hear
all
I
could
of
him
.
I
have
been
told
he
seems
above
his
present
position
.
Is
it
so
?
"
"
Likely
enough
,
monsieur
;
he
seems
a
gentleman
.
But
then
we
have
many
gentlemen
in
the
ranks
,
and
we
can
make
no
difference
for
that
.
Cigarette
can
tell
you
more
of
him
;
she
used
to
complain
that
he
bowed
like
a
Court
chamberlain
.
"
"
Oh-hé
—
I
did
!
"
cried
Cigarette
,
stung
into
instant
irony
because
pained
and
irritated
by
being
appealed
to
on
the
subject
.
"
And
of
course
,
when
so
many
of
his
officers
have
the
manners
of
Pyrenean
bears
,
it
is
a
little
awkward
for
him
to
bring
us
the
manners
of
a
Palace
!
"
Which
effectually
chastised
the
Chef
d'Escadron
,
who
was
one
of
those
who
had
a
ton
de
garnison
of
the
roughest
,
and
piqued
himself
on
his
powers
of
fence
much
more
than
on
his
habits
of
delicacy
.
"
Has
this
Victor
any
history
?
"
asked
the
English
Duke
.
"
He
has
written
one
with
his
sword
;
a
fine
one
,
"
said
Cigarette
,
curtly
.
"
We
are
not
given
here
to
care
much
about
any
other
.
"
"
Quite
right
;
I
asked
because
a
friend
of
mine
who
had
seen
his
carvings
wished
to
serve
him
if
it
were
possible
;
and
—
—
"
"
Ho
!
That
is
Miladi
,
I
suppose
?
"
Cigarette
's
eyes
flashed
fire
instantly
,
in
wrath
and
suspicion
.
"
What
did
she
tell
you
about
him
,
la
belle
dé-daigneuse
?
"
"
I
am
ignorant
of
whom
you
speak
?
"
he
answered
,
with
something
of
surprise
and
of
annoyance
.
"
Are
you
?
"
said
Cigarette
,
in
derision
.
"
I
doubt
that
.
Of
whom
should
I
speak
but
of
her
?
Bah
!
She
insulted
him
,
she
offered
him
gold
,
she
sent
my
men
the
spoils
of
her
table
,
as
if
they
were
paupers
,
and
he
thinks
it
all
divine
because
it
is
done
by
Madame
la
Princesse
Corona
d'Amägué
!
Faugh
!
when
he
was
delirious
,
the
other
night
,
he
could
babble
of
nothing
but
of
her
—
of
her
—
of
her
!
"
The
jealous
,
fiery
impatience
in
her
vanquished
every
other
thought
;
she
was
a
child
in
much
,
she
was
untutored
in
all
;
she
had
no
thought
that
by
her
scornful
vituperation
of
"
Miladi
"
she
could
either
harm
Cecil
or
betray
herself
.
But
she
was
amazed
to
see
the
English
guest
change
colour
with
a
haughty
anger
that
he
strove
to
subdue
as
he
half
rose
and
answered
her
with
an
accent
in
his
voice
that
reminded
her
—
she
knew
not
why
—
of
Bel-à-faire-peur
and
of
Marquise
.
"
Madame
la
Princesse
Corona
d'Amägué
is
my
sister
;
why
do
you
venture
to
couple
the
name
of
this
Chasseur
with
hers
?
"
Cigarette
sprang
to
her
feet
,
vivacious
,
imperious
,
reckless
,
dared
to
anything
by
the
mere
fact
of
being
publicly
arraigned
.
"
Pardieu
!
Is
it
insult
to
couple
the
silver
pheasant
with
the
Eagles
of
France
?
—
a
pretty
idea
,
truly
!
So
she
is
your
sister
,
is
she
?
Miladi
?
Well
,
then
,
tell
her
from
me
to
think
twice
before
she
outrages
a
soldier
with
'
patronage
;
'
and
tell
her
,
too
,
that
had
I
been
he
I
would
have
ground
my
ivory
toys
into
powder
before
I
would
have
let
them
become
the
playthings
of
a
grande
dame
who
tendered
me
gold
for
them
!
"
The
Englishman
looked
at
her
with
astonishment
that
was
mingled
with
a
vivid
sense
of
intense
annoyance
and
irritated
pride
,
that
the
name
he
cherished
closest
should
be
thus
brought
in
,
at
a
camp
dinner
,
on
the
lips
of
a
vivandière
and
in
connexion
with
a
trooper
of
Chasseurs
.
"
I
do
not
understand
your
indignation
,
mademoiselle
,
"
he
said
,
with
an
impatient
stroke
to
his
beard
.
"
There
is
no
occasion
for
it
.
Madame
Corona
d'Amägué
,
my
sister
,
"
he
continued
,
to
the
officers
present
,
"
became
accidentally
acquainted
with
the
skill
at
sculpture
of
this
Corporal
of
yours
;
he
appeared
to
her
a
man
of
much
refinement
and
good
breeding
.
She
chanced
to
name
him
to
me
,
and
feeling
some
pity
—
—
"
"
M
.
le
Duc
!
"
cried
the
ringing
voice
of
Cigarette
,
loud
and
startling
as
a
bugle-note
,
while
she
stood
like
a
little
lioness
,
flushed
with
the
draughts
of
champagne
and
with
the
warmth
of
wrath
at
once
jealous
and
generous
,
"
keep
your
compassion
until
it
is
asked
of
you
.
No
soldier
of
France
needs
it
;
that
I
promise
you
.
I
know
this
man
that
you
talk
of
'
pitying
.
'
Well
,
I
saw
him
at
Zarâila
three
weeks
ago
;
he
had
drawn
up
his
men
to
die
with
them
rather
than
surrender
and
yield
up
the
guidon
;
I
dragged
him
half
dead
,
when
the
field
was
won
,
from
under
his
horse
,
and
his
first
conscious
act
was
to
give
the
drink
that
I
brought
him
to
a
wretch
who
had
thieved
from
him
.
Our
life
here
is
hell
upon
earth
to
such
as
he
,
yet
none
ever
heard
a
lament
wrung
out
of
him
;
he
is
gone
to
the
chances
of
death
to-night
as
most
men
go
to
their
mistresses
'
kisses
;
he
is
a
soldier
Napoleon
would
have
honoured
.
Such
an
one
is
not
to
have
the
patronage
of
a
Miladi
Corona
,
nor
the
pity
of
a
stranger
of
England
.
Let
the
first
respect
him
;
let
the
last
imitate
him
!
"
And
Cigarette
,
having
pronounced
her
defence
and
her
eulogy
with
the
vibrating
eloquence
of
some
orator
from
a
tribune
,
threw
her
champagne
goblet
down
with
a
crash
,
and
,
breaking
through
the
arms
outstretched
to
detain
her
,
forced
her
way
out
despite
them
,
and
left
her
hosts
alone
in
their
lighted
tent
.
"
C'est
Cigarette
!
"
said
the
Chef
d'Escadron
,
with
a
shrug
of
his
shoulders
,
as
of
one
who
explained
,
by
that
sentence
,
a
whole
world
of
irreclaimable
eccentricities
.
"
A
strange
little
Amazon
!
"
said
their
guest
.
"
Is
she
in
love
with
this
Victor
,
that
I
have
offended
her
so
much
with
his
name
?
"
The
Major
shrugged
his
shoulders
.
"
I
do
n't
know
that
,
monsieur
,
"
answered
one
.
"
She
will
defend
a
man
in
his
absence
,
and
rate
him
to
his
face
most
soundly
.
Cigarette
whirls
about
like
a
little
paper
windmill
,
just
as
the
breeze
blows
;
but
,
as
the
windmill
never
leaves
its
stick
,
so
she
is
always
constant
to
the
Tricolour
.
"
Their
guest
said
little
more
on
the
subject
;
in
his
own
thoughts
he
was
bitterly
resentful
that
,
by
the
mention
of
this
Chasseur
's
fortunes
,
he
should
have
brought
in
the
name
he
loved
so
well
—
the
purest
,
fairest
,
haughtiest
name
in
Europe
—
into
a
discussion
with
a
vivandière
at
a
camp
dinner
.
Châteauroy
,
throughout
,
had
said
nothing
;
he
had
listened
in
silence
,
the
darkness
lowering
still
more
heavily
upon
his
swarthy
features
;
only
now
he
opened
his
lips
for
a
few
brief
words
:
"
Mon
cher
Duc
,
tell
Madame
not
to
waste
the
rare
balm
of
her
pity
.
The
fellow
you
inquire
for
was
an
outcast
and
an
outlaw
when
he
came
to
us
.
He
fights
well
—
it
is
often
a
blackguard
's
virtue
!
"
His
guest
nodded
,
and
changed
the
subject
;
his
impatience
and
aversion
at
the
introduction
of
his
sister
's
name
into
the
discussion
made
him
drop
the
theme
unpursued
,
and
let
it
die
out
forgotten
.
Venetia
Corona
associated
with
an
Algerian
trooper
!
If
Cigarette
had
been
of
his
own
sex
,
he
could
have
dashed
the
white
teeth
down
her
throat
for
having
spoken
of
the
two
in
one
breath
.
And
as
,
later
on
,
he
stretched
his
gallant
limbs
out
on
his
narrow
camp
palliasse
,
tired
with
a
long
day
in
saddle
under
the
hot
African
sun
,
the
Seraph
fell
asleep
with
his
right
arm
under
his
handsome
golden
head
,
and
thought
no
more
of
this
unknown
French
sabreur
.
But
Cigarette
remained
wakeful
.
She
lay
curled
up
in
the
straw
against
her
pet
horse
,
Etoile-Filante
,
with
her
head
on
the
beast
's
glossy
flank
and
her
hand
amongst
his
mane
.
She
often
slept
thus
in
camp
,
and
the
horse
would
lie
still
and
cramped
for
hours
rather
than
awaken
her
,
or
,
if
he
rose
,
would
take
the
most
watchful
heed
to
leave
unharmed
the
slender
limbs
,
the
flushed
cheeks
,
the
frank
fair
brow
of
the
sleeper
beneath
him
,
that
one
stroke
of
his
hoof
could
have
stamped
out
into
a
bruised
and
shapeless
mass.
To-night
Etoile-Filante
slept
,
and
his
mistress
was
awake
—
wide
awake
,
with
her
eyes
looking
out
into
the
darkness
beyond
,
with
a
passionate
mist
of
unshed
tears
in
them
,
and
her
mouth
quivering
with
pain
and
with
wrath
.
The
vehement
excitation
had
not
died
away
in
her
,
but
there
had
come
with
it
a
dull
,
spiritless
,
aching
depression
.
It
had
roused
her
to
fury
to
hear
the
reference
to
her
rival
spoken
—
of
that
aristocrat
whose
name
had
been
on
Cecil
's
lips
when
he
had
been
delirious
.
She
had
kept
his
secret
loyally
,
she
had
defended
him
vehemently
;
there
was
something
that
touched
her
to
the
core
in
the
thought
of
the
love
with
which
he
had
recognised
this
friend
who
,
in
ignorance
,
spoke
of
him
as
of
some
unknown
French
soldier
.
She
could
not
tell
what
the
history
was
,
but
she
could
divine
nearly
enough
to
feel
its
pathos
and
its
pain
.
She
had
known
,
in
her
short
life
,
more
of
men
and
of
their
passions
and
of
their
fortunes
than
many
lives
of
half
a
century
in
length
can
ever
do
;
she
could
guess
,
nearly
enough
to
be
wounded
with
its
sorrow
,
the
past
which
had
exiled
the
man
who
had
kept
by
him
his
lost
mother
's
ring
as
the
sole
relic
of
years
to
which
he
was
dead
as
utterly
as
though
he
were
lying
in
his
coffin
.
No
matter
what
the
precise
reason
was
—
women
,
or
debt
,
or
accident
,
or
ruin
—
these
two
,
who
had
been
familiar
comrades
,
were
now
as
strangers
to
each
other
;
the
one
slumbered
in
ignorance
near
her
,
the
other
had
gone
out
to
the
close
peril
of
death
,
lest
the
eyes
of
his
friend
should
recognise
his
face
and
read
his
secret
.
It
troubled
her
,
it
weighed
on
her
,
it
smote
her
with
a
pang
.
It
might
be
that
now
,
even
now
—
this
very
moment
,
whilst
her
gaze
watched
the
dusky
shadows
of
the
night
chase
one
another
along
the
dreary
plains
—
a
shot
might
have
struck
down
this
life
that
had
been
stripped
of
name
and
fame
and
country
;
even
now
all
might
be
over
!
And
Cigarette
felt
a
cold
sickly
shudder
seize
her
that
never
before
,
at
death
or
danger
,
had
chilled
the
warm
swift
current
of
her
bright
French
blood
.
In
bitter
scorn
at
herself
,
she
muttered
hot
oaths
between
her
pretty
teeth
.
Mère
de
Dieu
!
he
had
touched
her
lips
as
carelessly
as
her
own
kiss
would
have
touched
the
rose-hued
waxen
petals
of
a
cluster
of
oleander-blossoms
;
and
she
cared
for
him
still
!
Whilst
the
Seraph
slept
dreamlessly
,
with
the
tents
of
the
French
camp
around
him
,
and
the
sleepless
eyes
of
Cigarette
watched
afar
off
the
dim
distant
forms
of
the
videttes
as
they
circled
slowly
round
at
their
outpost
duty
,
eight
leagues
off
,
through
a
vast
desert
of
shadow
and
silence
the
two
horsemen
swept
swiftly
on
.
Not
a
word
had
passed
between
them
;
they
rode
close
together
in
unbroken
stillness
;
they
were
scarcely
visible
to
each
other
,
for
there
was
no
moon
,
and
storm-clouds
obscured
the
skies
.
Now
and
then
their
horses
'
hoofs
struck
fire
from
a
flint
stone
,
and
the
flash
sparkled
through
the
darkness
;
often
not
even
the
sound
of
their
gallop
was
audible
on
the
grey
,
dry
,
loose
soil
.
Every
rood
of
the
road
was
sown
thick
with
peril
;
no
frowning
ledge
of
rock
,
with
pine-roots
in
its
clefts
,
but
might
serve
as
the
barricade
behind
which
some
foe
lurked
;
no
knot
of
cypress-shrubs
,
black
even
on
that
black
sheet
of
shadow
,
but
might
be
pierced
with
the
steel
tubes
of
levelled
waiting
muskets
.
Pillaging
,
burning
,
devastating
wherever
they
could
,
in
what
was
to
them
a
holy
war
of
resistance
to
the
infidel
and
the
invader
,
the
predatory
tribes
had
broken
out
into
a
revolt
which
the
rout
of
Zarâila
,
heavy
blow
though
it
had
been
to
them
,
had
by
no
means
ended
.
They
were
still
in
arms
,
infesting
the
country
everywhere
southward
,
defying
regular
pursuit
,
impervious
to
regular
attacks
,
carrying
on
the
harassing
guerilla
warfare
at
which
they
were
such
adepts
,
and
causing
thus
to
their
Frankish
foe
more
irritation
and
more
loss
than
decisive
engagements
would
have
produced
.
They
feared
nothing
,
had
nothing
to
lose
,
and
could
subsist
almost
upon
nothing
.
They
might
be
driven
into
the
desert
,
they
might
even
be
exterminated
after
long
pursuit
;
but
they
would
never
be
vanquished
.
And
they
were
scattered
now
far
and
wide
over
the
country
;
every
cave
might
shelter
,
every
ravine
might
enclose
them
;
they
appeared
here
,
they
appeared
there
;
they
swooped
down
on
a
convoy
,
they
carried
sword
and
flame
into
a
settlement
,
they
darted
like
a
flight
of
hawks
upon
a
foraging-party
,
they
picked
off
any
vidette
as
he
wheeled
his
horse
round
in
the
moonlight
;
and
every
yard
of
the
miles
which
the
two
grey
chargers
of
the
Chasseurs
d'Afrique
must
cover
ere
their
service
was
done
was
as
rife
with
death
as
though
its
course
lay
over
the
volcanic
line
of
an
earthquake
.
They
had
reached
the
centre
of
the
plain
when
the
sound
they
had
long
looked
for
rang
on
their
ears
,
piercing
the
heavy
breathless
stillness
of
the
night
.
It
was
the
Allah-il-Allah
of
their
foes
,
the
war-cry
of
the
Moslem
.
Out
of
the
gloom
—
whether
from
long
pursuit
or
some
near
hiding-place
they
could
not
tell
—
there
broke
suddenly
upon
them
the
fury
of
an
Arab
onslaught
.
In
the
darkness
all
they
could
see
were
the
flash
of
steel
,
the
flame
of
fierce
eyes
against
their
own
,
the
white
steam
of
smoking
horses
,
the
spray
of
froth
flung
off
the
snorting
nostrils
,
the
rapid
glitter
of
the
curved
flissas
—
whether
two
,
or
twenty
,
or
twice
a
hundred
were
upon
them
they
could
not
know
—
they
never
did
know
.
All
of
which
they
were
conscious
was
that
in
an
instant
,
from
the
tranquil
melancholy
around
them
of
the
great
,
dim
,
naked
space
,
they
were
plunged
into
the
din
,
the
fury
,
the
heat
,
the
close
,
crushing
,
horrible
entanglement
of
conflict
,
without
the
power
to
perceive
or
to
number
their
foes
,
and
only
able
to
follow
the
sheer
simple
instincts
of
attack
and
of
defence
.
All
they
were
sensible
of
was
one
of
those
confused
moments
,
deafening
,
blinding
,
filled
with
violence
and
rage
and
din
—
an
eternity
in
semblance
,
a
second
in
duration
—
that
can
never
be
traced
,
never
be
recalled
,
yet
in
whose
feverish
excitement
men
do
that
which
,
in
their
calmer
hours
,
would
look
to
them
a
fable
of
some
Amadis
of
Gaul
.
How
they
were
attacked
,
how
they
resisted
,
how
they
struck
,
how
they
were
encompassed
,
how
they
thrust
back
those
who
were
hurled
on
them
in
the
black
night
,
with
the
north
sea-wind
like
ice
upon
their
faces
,
and
the
loose
African
soil
drifting
up
in
clouds
of
sand
around
them
,
they
could
never
have
told
.
Nor
how
they
strained
free
from
the
armed
ring
that
circled
them
,
and
beat
aside
the
shafts
of
lances
and
the
blades
of
swords
,
and
forced
their
chargers
breast
to
breast
against
the
fence
of
steel
,
and
through
the
tempest
of
rage
,
and
blows
,
and
shouts
,
and
wind
,
and
driven
sand
,
cut
their
way
through
the
foe
whose
very
face
they
scarce
could
see
,
and
plunged
away
into
the
shadows
across
the
desolation
of
the
plain
,
pursued
,
whether
by
one
or
by
a
thousand
they
could
not
guess
,
for
the
gallop
was
noiseless
on
the
powdered
soil
,
and
the
Arab
yell
of
baffled
passion
and
slaughterous
lust
was
half
drowned
in
the
rising
of
the
wind-storm
.
Had
it
been
day
,
they
would
have
seen
their
passage
across
the
level
table-land
traced
by
a
crimson
stream
upon
the
sand
,
in
which
the
blood
of
Frank
and
Arab
blended
equally
.
As
it
was
,
they
dashed
headlong
down
through
the
darkness
that
grew
yet
denser
and
blacker
as
the
storm
rose
.
For
miles
the
ground
was
level
before
them
,
and
they
had
only
to
let
the
half-maddened
horses
,
that
had
as
by
a
miracle
escaped
all
injury
,
rush
on
at
their
own
will
through
the
whirl
of
the
wind
that
drove
the
dust
upward
in
spiral
columns
and
brought
icy
breaths
of
the
north
over
the
sear
,
sunburnt
,
southern
wastes
.
For
a
long
space
they
had
no
sense
but
that
of
rapid
ceaseless
motion
through
the
thick
gloom
and
against
the
pressure
of
the
violent
blasts
.
The
speed
of
their
gallop
and
the
strength
of
the
currents
of
air
were
like
some
narcotic
that
drowned
and
that
dizzied
perception
.
In
the
intense
darkness
neither
could
see
,
neither
hear
,
the
other
;
the
instinct
of
the
beasts
kept
them
together
,
but
no
word
could
be
heard
above
the
roar
of
the
storm
,
and
no
light
broke
the
sombre
veil
of
shadow
through
which
they
passed
as
fast
as
leopards
course
through
the
night
.
The
first
faint
streak
of
dawn
grew
grey
in
the
east
when
Cecil
felt
his
charger
stagger
and
sway
beneath
him
,
and
halt
,
worn
out
and
quivering
in
every
sinew
with
fatigue
.
He
threw
himself
off
the
animal
in
time
to
save
himself
from
falling
with
it
is
it
reeled
and
sank
to
the
ground
.
"
Massena
cannot
stir
another
yard
,
"
he
said
.
"
Do
you
think
they
follow
us
still
?
"
There
was
no
reply
.
He
strained
his
sight
to
pierce
the
darkness
,
but
he
could
distinguish
nothing
;
the
gloom
was
still
too
deep
.
He
spoke
more
loudly
;
still
there
was
no
reply
.
Then
he
raised
his
voice
in
a
shout
;
it
rang
through
the
silence
,
and
,
when
it
ceased
,
the
silence
reigned
again
.
A
deadly
chill
came
on
him
.
How
had
he
missed
his
comrade
?
They
must
be
far
apart
,
he
knew
,
since
no
response
was
given
to
his
summons
;
or
—
the
alternative
rose
before
him
with
a
terrible
foreboding
.
That
intense
quiet
had
a
repose
as
of
death
in
it
,
a
ghastly
loneliness
that
seemed
filled
with
desolation
.
His
horse
was
stretched
before
him
on
the
sand
,
powerless
to
rise
and
drag
itself
a
rood
onward
,
and
fast
expiring
.
From
the
plains
around
him
not
a
sound
came
,
either
of
friend
or
foe
.
The
consciousness
that
he
was
alone
,
that
he
had
lost
for
ever
the
only
friend
left
to
him
,
struck
on
him
with
that
conviction
which
so
often
foreruns
the
assurance
of
calamity
.
Without
a
moment
's
pause
,
he
plunged
back
in
the
direction
he
had
come
,
leaving
the
charger
on
the
ground
to
pant
its
life
out
as
it
must
,
and
sought
to
feel
his
way
along
,
so
as
to
seek
as
best
he
could
the
companion
he
had
deserted
.
He
still
could
not
see
a
rood
before
him
,
but
he
went
on
slowly
,
with
some
vague
hope
that
he
should
ere
long
reach
the
man
whom
he
knew
death
or
the
fatality
of
accident
alone
would
keep
from
his
side
.
He
could
not
feel
or
hear
anything
that
gave
him
the
slightest
sign
or
clue
to
aid
his
search
;
he
only
wandered
farther
from
his
horse
,
and
risked
falling
afresh
into
the
hands
of
his
pursuers
;
he
shouted
again
with
all
his
strength
,
but
his
own
voice
alone
echoed
over
the
plains
,
while
his
heart
stood
still
with
the
same
frozen
dread
that
a
man
feels
when
,
wrecked
on
some
barren
shore
,
his
cry
for
rescue
rings
back
on
his
own
ear
over
the
waste
of
waters
.
The
flicker
of
the
dawn
was
growing
lighter
in
the
sky
,
and
he
could
see
dimly
now
,
as
in
some
winter
day
's
dark
twilight
,
though
all
around
him
hung
the
leaden
mist
,
with
the
wild
winds
driving
furiously
.
It
was
with
difficulty
almost
that
he
kept
his
feet
against
their
force
;
but
he
was
blown
onward
by
their
current
,
though
beaten
from
side
to
side
,
and
he
still
made
his
way
forward
.
He
had
repassed
the
ground
already
traversed
by
some
hundred
yards
or
more
,
which
seemed
the
length
of
many
miles
in
the
hurricane
that
was
driving
over
the
earth
and
sky
,
when
some
outline
still
duskier
than
the
dusky
shadow
caught
his
sight
;
it
was
the
body
of
a
horse
,
standing
on
guard
over
the
fallen
body
of
a
man
.
Another
moment
and
he
was
beside
them
.
"
My
God
!
Are
you
hurt
?
"
He
could
see
nothing
but
an
indistinct
and
shapeless
mass
,
without
form
or
colour
,
to
mark
it
out
from
the
brooding
gloom
and
from
the
leaden
earth
.
But
the
voice
he
knew
so
well
answered
him
with
the
old
love
and
fealty
in
it
;
eager
with
fear
for
him
.
"
When
did
you
miss
me
,
sir
?
I
did
n't
mean
you
to
know
;
I
held
on
as
long
as
I
could
;
and
when
I
could
n't
no
longer
,
I
thought
you
was
safe
not
to
see
I
'd
knocked
over
,
so
dark
as
it
was
.
"
"
Great
Heavens
!
You
are
wounded
,
then
?
"
"
Just
finished
,
sir
.
Lord
!
it
do
n't
matter
.
Only
you
ride
on
,
Mr.
Cecil
;
ride
on
,
I
say
.
Do
n't
mind
me
.
"
"
What
is
it
?
When
were
you
struck
?
O
Heaven
!
I
never
dreamt
—
—
"
Cecil
hung
over
him
,
striving
in
vain
through
the
shadows
to
read
the
truth
from
the
face
on
which
he
felt
by
instinct
the
seal
of
death
was
set
.
"
I
never
meant
you
should
know
,
sir
.
I
meant
just
to
drop
behind
,
and
die
on
the
quiet
.
You
see
,
sir
,
it
was
just
this
way
;
they
hit
me
as
we
forced
through
them
.
There
's
the
lance-head
in
my
loins
now
.
I
pressed
it
in
hard
,
and
kept
the
blood
from
flowing
,
and
thought
I
should
hold
out
so
till
the
sun
rose
.
But
I
could
n't
do
it
so
long
;
I
got
sick
and
faint
after
a
while
,
and
I
knew
well
enough
it
was
death
.
So
I
dropped
down
while
I
'd
sense
left
to
check
the
horse
and
get
out
of
saddle
in
silence
.
I
hoped
you
would
n't
miss
me
,
in
the
darkness
and
the
noise
the
wind
was
making
;
and
you
did
n't
hear
me
then
,
sir
;
I
was
glad
.
"
His
voice
was
checked
in
a
quick
gasping
breath
;
his
only
thought
had
been
to
lie
down
and
die
in
solitude
so
that
his
master
might
be
saved
.
A
great
sob
shook
Cecil
as
he
heard
;
no
false
hope
came
to
him
;
he
felt
that
this
man
was
lost
to
him
for
ever
,
that
this
was
the
sole
recompense
which
the
cruelty
of
Africa
would
give
to
a
fidelity
passing
the
fidelity
of
woman
;
these
throes
of
dissolution
the
only
payment
with
which
fate
would
ever
requite
a
loyalty
that
had
held
no
travail
weary
,
no
exile
drear
,
and
no
danger
worthy
counting
,
so
long
as
they
were
encountered
and
endured
in
his
own
service
.
"
Do
n't
take
on
about
it
,
sir
,
"
whispered
Rake
,
striving
to
raise
his
head
that
he
might
strain
his
eyes
better
through
the
gloom
to
see
his
master
's
face
.
"
It
was
sure
to
come
some
time
;
and
I
ai
n't
in
no
pain
—
to
speak
of
.
Do
leave
me
,
Mr.
Cecil
—
leave
me
,
for
God
's
sake
,
and
save
yourself
!
"
"
Did
you
leave
me
?
"
The
answer
was
very
low
,
and
his
voice
shook
as
he
uttered
it
;
but
through
the
roar
of
the
hurricane
Rake
heard
it
.
"
That
was
different
,
sir
,
"
he
said
,
simply
.
"
Let
me
lie
here
,
and
go
you
on
.
It
'll
soon
be
over
,
and
there
's
nought
to
be
done
.
"
"
O
God
!
is
no
help
possible
?
"
"
Do
n't
take
on
,
sir
;
it
's
no
odds
.
I
allays
was
a
scamp
,
and
scamps
die
game
,
you
know
.
My
life
's
been
a
rare
spree
,
count
it
all
and
all
;
and
it
's
a
great
good
thing
,
you
see
,
sir
,
to
go
off
quick
like
this
.
I
might
have
been
laid
in
hospital
.
If
you
'd
only
take
the
beast
and
ride
on
,
sir
—
—
"
"
Hush
!
hush
!
Would
you
make
me
coward
,
or
brute
,
or
both
?
"
The
words
broke
in
an
agony
from
him
.
The
time
had
been
when
he
had
been
himself
stretched
in
what
he
had
thought
was
death
,
in
just
such
silence
,
in
just
such
solitude
,
upon
the
bare
baked
earth
,
far
from
men
's
aid
,
and
near
only
to
the
hungry
eyes
of
watching
beasts
of
prey
.
Then
he
had
been
very
calm
,
and
waited
with
indifference
for
the
end
;
now
his
eyes
swept
over
the
remorseless
wastes
,
that
were
growing
faintly
visible
under
the
coming
dawn
,
with
all
the
impatience
,
the
terror
,
of
despair
.
Death
had
smitten
down
many
beside
him
;
buoyant
youth
and
dauntless
manhood
he
had
seen
a
thousand
times
swept
under
the
great
waves
of
war
and
lost
for
ever
;
but
it
had
an
anguish
for
him
here
that
he
would
never
have
known
had
he
felt
his
own
life-blood
well
out
over
the
sand
.
The
whole
existence
of
this
man
had
been
sacrificed
for
him
,
and
its
only
reward
was
a
thrust
of
a
lance
in
a
midnight
fray
—
a
grave
in
an
alien
soil
.
His
grief
fell
dully
on
ears
half
deafened
already
to
the
sounds
of
the
living
world
.
The
exhaustion
that
follows
on
great
loss
of
blood
was
upon
the
soldier
who
for
the
last
half-hour
had
lain
there
in
the
darkness
and
the
stillness
,
quietly
waiting
death
,
and
not
once
seeking
even
to
raise
his
voice
for
succour
lest
the
cry
should
reach
and
should
imperil
his
master
.
The
morning
had
broken
now
,
but
the
storm
had
not
lulled
.
The
northern
winds
were
sweeping
over
the
plains
in
tenfold
violence
,
and
the
rains
burst
and
poured
,
with
the
fury
of
waterspouts
,
on
the
crust
of
the
parched
,
cracked
earth
.
Around
them
there
was
nothing
heard
or
seen
except
the
leaden
angry
mists
,
tossed
to
and
fro
under
the
hurricane
,
and
the
white
light
of
the
coming
day
breaking
lividly
through
the
clouds
.
The
world
held
no
place
of
more
utter
desolation
,
more
unspeakable
loneliness
;
and
in
its
misery
,
Cecil
,
flung
down
upon
the
sands
beside
him
,
could
do
nothing
except
—
helpless
to
aid
,
and
powerless
to
save
—
watch
the
last
breath
grow
feebler
and
feebler
,
until
it
faded
out
from
the
only
life
that
had
been
faithful
to
him
.
By
the
fitful
gleams
of
day
he
could
see
the
blood
slowly
ebbing
from
the
great
gap
where
the
lance-head
was
still
bedded
with
its
wooden
shaft
snapped
in
two
;
he
could
see
the
drooped
head
that
he
had
raised
upon
his
knee
,
with
the
yellow
northern
curls
that
no
desert
suns
had
darkened
;
and
Rake
's
eyes
,
smiling
so
brightly
and
so
bravely
still
,
looked
up
from
under
their
weary
lids
to
his
.
"
I
'd
never
let
you
take
my
hand
before
,
sir
;
just
take
it
once
now
—
will
you
?
—
while
I
can
see
you
still
.
"
Their
hands
met
as
he
asked
it
,
and
held
each
other
close
and
long
;
all
the
loyal
service
of
the
one
life
,
and
all
the
speechless
gratitude
of
the
other
,
told
better
than
by
all
words
in
that
one
farewell
.
A
light
that
was
not
from
the
stormy
dusky
morning
shone
over
the
soldier
's
face
.
"
Time
was
,
sir
,
"
he
said
,
with
a
smile
,
"
when
I
used
to
think
as
how
,
some
day
or
another
,
when
I
should
have
done
something
great
and
grand
,
and
you
was
back
amongst
your
own
again
,
and
they
here
had
given
me
the
Cross
,
I
'd
have
asked
you
to
have
done
that
before
all
the
Army
,
and
just
to
have
said
to
'
em
,
if
so
you
'd
liked
,
'
He
was
a
scamp
,
and
he
was
n't
thought
good
for
nought
;
but
he
kep
'
true
to
me
,
and
you
see
it
made
him
go
straight
,
and
I
are
n't
ashamed
to
call
him
my
friend
.
'
I
used
to
think
that
,
sir
,
though
'
twas
silly
,
perhaps
.
But
it
's
best
as
it
is
—
a
deal
best
,
no
doubt
.
If
you
was
only
back
safe
in
camp
—
—
"
"
O
God
!
cease
!
I
am
not
worthy
one
thought
of
love
like
yours
.
"
"
Yes
you
are
,
sir
—
leastways
you
was
to
me
.
When
you
took
pity
on
me
,
it
was
just
a
toss
up
if
I
did
n't
go
right
to
the
gallows
.
Do
n't
grieve
that
way
,
Mr.
Cecil
.
If
I
could
just
have
seen
you
home
again
in
your
place
,
I
should
have
been
glad
—
that
's
all
.
You
'll
go
back
one
day
,
sir
;
when
you
do
,
tell
the
King
I
ai
n't
never
forgot
him
.
"
His
voice
grew
faint
as
the
last
sentence
stole
from
his
lips
;
he
lay
quite
still
,
his
head
leant
back
against
his
master
;
and
the
day
came
,
with
the
north
winds
driving
over
the
plains
,
and
the
grey
mists
tossed
by
them
to
and
fro
like
smoke
.
There
was
a
long
silence
,
a
pause
in
which
the
wind-storm
ceased
and
the
clouds
of
the
loosed
sands
sunk
.
Alone
,
with
the
wastes
stretching
around
them
,
were
the
living
and
the
dying
man
,
with
the
horse
standing
motionless
beside
them
,
and
,
above
,
the
gloom
of
the
sullen
sky
.
No
aid
was
possible
:
they
could
but
wait
,
in
the
stupefaction
of
despair
,
for
the
end
of
all
to
come
.
In
that
awful
stillness
,
in
that
sudden
lull
in
the
madness
of
the
hurricane
,
death
had
a
horror
which
it
never
wore
in
the
riot
of
the
battle-field
,
in
the
intoxication
of
the
slaughter
.
There
was
no
pity
in
earth
or
heaven
;
the
hard
hot
ground
sucked
down
its
fill
of
blood
;
the
icy
air
enwrapped
them
like
a
shroud
.
The
faithfulness
of
love
,
the
strength
of
gratitude
,
were
of
no
avil
;
the
one
perished
,
the
other
was
powerless
to
save
.
In
that
momentary
hush
,
as
the
winds
sank
low
,
the
heavy
eyes
,
half
sightless
now
,
sought
with
their
old
wistful
dog-like
loyalty
the
face
to
which
so
soon
they
would
be
blind
for
ever
.
"
Would
you
tell
me
once
,
sir
—
now
?
I
never
asked
—
I
never
would
have
done
—
but
maybe
I
might
know
in
this
last
minute
;
you
never
did
that
sin
you
bear
the
charge
on
?
"
"
God
is
my
witness
,
no.
"
The
light
,
that
was
like
sunlight
,
shone
once
more
in
the
aching
,
wandering
eyes
.
"
I
knew
,
I
knew
!
It
was
—
—
"
Cecil
bowed
his
head
over
him
,
lower
and
lower
.
"
Hush
!
He
was
but
a
child
;
and
I
—
—
"
With
a
sudden
and
swift
motion
,
as
though
new
life
were
thrilling
in
him
,
Rake
raised
himself
erect
,
his
arms
stretched
outward
to
the
east
,
where
the
young
day
was
breaking
.
"
I
knew
,
I
knew
!
I
never
doubted
.
You
will
go
back
to
your
own
some
day
,
and
men
shall
learn
the
truth
—
thank
God
,
thank
God
!
"
Then
,
with
that
light
still
on
his
face
,
his
head
fell
backward
;
and
with
one
quick
,
brief
sigh
his
life
fled
out
for
ever
.
The
time
passed
on
;
the
storm
had
risen
afresh
;
the
violence
of
the
gusts
blew
yellow
sheets
of
sand
whirling
over
the
plains
.
Alone
,
with
the
corpse
across
his
knees
,
Cecil
sat
motionless
as
though
turned
to
stone
.
His
eyes
were
dry
and
fixed
;
but
ever
and
again
a
great
tearless
sob
shook
him
from
head
to
foot
.
The
only
life
that
linked
him
with
the
past
,
the
only
love
that
had
suffered
all
things
for
his
sake
,
were
gone
,
crushed
out
as
though
they
never
had
been
,
like
some
insect
trodden
in
the
soil
.
He
had
lost
all
consciousness
,
all
memory
,
save
of
that
lifeless
thing
which
lay
across
his
knees
,
like
a
felled
tree
,
like
a
broken
log
,
with
the
glimmer
of
the
tempestuous
day
so
chill
and
white
upon
the
upturned
face
.
He
was
alone
on
earth
;
and
the
solitudes
around
him
were
not
more
desolate
than
his
own
fate
.
He
was
like
a
man
numbed
and
stupified
by
intense
cold
;
his
veins
seemed
stagnant
,
and
his
sight
could
only
see
those
features
that
became
so
terribly
serene
,
so
fearfully
unmoved
with
the
dread
calm
of
death
.
Yet
the
old
mechanical
instincts
of
a
soldier
guided
him
still
;
he
vaguely
knew
that
his
errand
had
to
be
done
,
must
be
done
,
let
his
heart
ache
as
it
would
,
let
him
long
as
he
might
to
lie
down
by
the
side
of
his
only
friend
,
and
leave
the
torture
of
life
to
grow
still
in
him
also
for
evermore
.
Instinctively
,
he
moved
to
carry
out
the
duty
trusted
to
him
.
He
looked
east
and
west
,
north
and
south
;
there
was
nothing
in
sight
that
could
bring
him
aid
;
there
were
only
the
dust-clouds
hurled
in
billows
hither
and
thither
by
the
bitter
winds
still
blowing
from
the
sea
.
All
that
could
be
done
had
to
be
done
by
himself
alone
.
His
own
safety
hung
on
the
swiftness
of
his
flight
:
for
aught
he
knew
,
at
every
moment
,
out
of
the
mist
and
the
driven
sheets
of
sand
there
might
rush
the
desert-horses
of
his
foes
.
But
this
memory
was
not
with
him
:
all
he
thought
of
was
that
burden
stretched
across
his
limbs
,
which
,
laid
down
one
hour
here
unwatched
,
would
be
the
prey
of
the
jackal
and
the
vulture
.
He
raised
it
reverently
in
his
arms
,
and
with
long
laborious
effort
drew
its
weight
up
across
the
saddle
of
the
charger
which
stood
patiently
waiting
by
,
turning
its
docile
eyes
with
a
plaintive
wondering
sadness
on
the
body
of
the
rider
it
had
loved
.
Then
he
mounted
,
himself
;
and
with
the
head
of
his
lost
comrade
borne
up
upon
his
arm
,
and
rested
gently
on
his
breast
,
he
rode
westward
over
the
great
plain
to
where
his
mission
lay
.
The
horse
paced
slowly
beneath
the
double
load
of
dead
and
living
;
he
would
not
urge
the
creature
faster
on
;
every
movement
that
shook
the
drooping
limbs
,
or
jarred
the
repose
of
that
last
sleep
,
seemed
desecration
.
He
passed
the
place
where
his
own
horse
was
stretched
:
the
vultures
were
already
there
.
He
shuddered
;
and
then
pressed
faster
on
,
as
though
the
beasts
and
birds
of
prey
would
rob
him
of
his
burden
ere
he
could
give
it
sanctuary
.
And
so
he
rode
,
mile
after
mile
,
over
the
barren
land
,
with
no
companion
save
the
dead
.
The
winds
blew
fiercely
in
his
teeth
;
the
sand
was
in
his
eyes
and
hair
;
the
way
was
long
,
and
weary
,
and
sown
thick
with
danger
;
but
he
knew
of
nothing
,
felt
and
saw
nothing
,
save
that
one
familiar
face
so
strangely
changed
and
transfigured
by
that
glory
with
which
death
had
touched
it
.
CHAPTER
VI
.
"
JE
VOUS
ACHETE
VOTRE
VIE
.
"
Thus
burdened
,
he
made
his
way
for
over
two
leagues
.
The
hurricane
never
abated
,
and
the
blinding
dust
rose
around
him
in
great
waves
.
The
horse
fell
lame
;
he
had
to
dismount
,
and
move
slowly
and
painfully
over
the
loose
heavy
soil
on
foot
,
raising
the
drooping
head
of
the
lifeless
rider
.
It
was
bitter
,
weary
,
cruel
travail
,
of
an
intolerable
Labour
,
of
an
intolerable
pain
.
Once
or
twice
he
grew
sick
and
giddy
,
and
lost
for
a
moment
all
consciousness
;
but
he
pressed
onwards
,
resolute
not
to
yield
and
leave
the
vultures
,
hovering
aloft
,
their
prey
.
He
was
still
somewhat
weakened
by
the
wounds
of
Zarâila
;
he
had
been
bruised
and
exhausted
by
the
skirmish
of
the
past
night
;
he
was
weary
and
heart-broken
;
but
he
did
not
yield
to
his
longing
to
sink
down
on
the
sands
,
and
let
his
life
ebb
out
:
he
held
patiently
onward
through
the
infinite
misery
of
the
passage
.
At
last
he
drew
near
the
caravanserai
where
he
had
been
directed
to
obtain
a
change
of
horses
.
It
stood
midway
in
the
distance
that
he
had
to
traverse
,
and
almost
alone
where
the
face
of
the
country
changed
,
and
was
more
full
of
colour
,
and
more
broken
into
rocky
and
irregular
surface
.
As
a
man
walks
in
a
dream
,
he
led
the
sinking
beast
towards
its
shelter
,
as
its
irregular
corner
towers
became
dimly
perceptible
to
him
through
the
dizzy
mists
that
had
obscured
his
sight
.
By
sheer
instinct
he
found
his
route
straight
towards
the
open
arch
of
its
entrance-way
,
and
into
the
square
courtyard
thronged
with
mules
,
and
camels
,
and
horses
;
for
the
caravanserai
stood
on
the
only
road
that
led
through
that
district
to
the
south
,
and
was
the
only
house
of
call
for
drovers
,
or
shelter
for
traveller
and
artists
of
Europe
who
might
pass
that
way
.
The
groups
in
the
court
paused
in
their
converse
and
in
their
occupations
,
and
looked
in
awe
at
the
grey
charger
with
its
strange
burden
,
and
the
French
Chasseur
who
came
so
blindly
forward
like
a
man
feeling
his
passage
through
the
dark
.
There
was
something
in
the
sight
that
had
a
vague
terror
for
them
before
they
clearly
saw
what
this
thing
was
which
was
thus
brought
into
their
presence
.
Cecil
moved
slowly
on
into
their
midst
,
his
hand
on
the
horse
's
rein
;
then
a
great
darkness
covered
his
sight
;
he
swayed
to
and
fro
,
and
fell
senseless
on
the
grey
stone
of
the
paved
court
,
while
the
muleteers
and
the
camel-drivers
,
the
Kabyls
and
the
French
,
who
were
mingled
there
,
crowded
around
him
in
fear
and
in
wonder
.
When
consciousness
returned
to
him
,
he
was
lying
on
a
stone
bench
in
the
shadow
of
the
wall
,
with
the
coolness
of
the
fountain
water
bubbling
near
,
and
a
throng
of
lean
,
bronzed
,
eager
faces
about
him
in
the
mid-day
sunlight
which
had
broken
through
the
wind-storm
.
Instantly
he
remembered
all
.
"
Where
is
he
?
"
he
asked
.
They
knew
that
he
meant
the
dead
man
,
and
answered
him
in
a
hushed
murmur
of
many
voices
.
They
had
placed
the
body
gently
down
within
,
in
a
darkened
chamber
.
A
shiver
passed
over
him
;
he
stretched
his
hand
out
for
water
that
they
held
to
him
:
"
Saddle
me
a
fresh
horse
;
I
have
my
work
to
do
.
"
He
knew
that
for
no
friendship
,
or
grief
,
or
suffering
,
or
self-pity
might
a
soldier
pause
by
the
wayside
whilst
his
errand
was
still
undone
,
his
duty
unfulfilled
.
He
drank
the
water
thirstily
;
then
reeling
slightly
still
from
the
weakness
that
was
still
upon
him
,
he
rose
rejecting
their
offers
of
aid
.
"
Take
me
to
him
,
"
he
said
,
simply
.
They
understood
him
;
there
were
French
soldiers
amongst
them
,
and
they
took
him
,
without
question
or
comment
,
across
the
court
to
the
little
square
stone
cell
within
one
of
the
towers
,
where
they
had
laid
the
corpse
,
with
nothing
to
break
the
quiet
and
the
solitude
except
the
low
soft
cooing
of
some
doves
that
had
their
home
in
its
dark
corners
,
and
flew
in
and
out
at
pleasure
through
the
oval
aperture
that
served
as
window
.
He
motioned
them
all
back
with
his
hand
,
and
went
into
the
gloom
of
the
chamber
alone
.
Not
one
amongst
them
followed
.
When
he
came
forth
again
the
reckless
and
riotous
fantassins
of
France
turned
silently
and
reverentially
away
,
so
that
they
should
not
look
upon
his
face
.
For
it
was
well
known
throughout
the
Army
that
no
common
tie
had
bound
together
the
exiles
of
England
;
and
the
fealty
of
comrade
to
comrade
was
sacred
in
their
sight
.
The
fresh
animal
,
saddled
,
was
held
ready
outside
the
gates
.
He
crossed
the
court
,
moving
still
like
a
man
without
sense
of
what
he
did
;
he
had
the
instinct
to
carry
out
the
mission
trusted
to
him
,
instantly
and
accurately
,
but
he
had
no
distinct
perception
or
memory
of
aught
else
,
save
of
those
long-familiar
features
of
which
,
ere
he
could
return
,
the
cruel
sun
of
Africa
would
not
have
spared
one
trace
.
He
passed
under
the
shadow
of
the
gateway
arch
;
a
shadow
black
and
intense
against
the
golden
light
which
,
with
the
ceasing
of
the
storm
,
flooded
the
land
in
the
full
morning
.
There
were
movement
,
noise
,
change
,
haste
in
the
entrance
.
Besides
the
arrival
of
the
detachment
of
the
line
and
of
a
string
of
north-ward-bound
camels
,
the
retinue
of
some
travellers
of
rank
was
preparing
for
departure
,
and
the
resources
of
the
humble
caravanserai
were
taxed
beyond
their
powers
.
The
name
that
some
of
the
hurrying
grooms
shouted
loudly
in
their
impatience
broke
through
his
stupor
and
reached
him
.
It
was
that
of
the
woman
whom
,
however
madly
,
he
loved
with
all
the
strength
of
a
passion
born
out
of
utter
hopelessness
.
He
turned
to
the
outrider
nearest
him
:
"
You
are
of
the
Princess
Corona
's
suite
?
What
does
she
do
here
?
"
"
Madame
travels
to
see
the
country
and
the
war
.
"
"
The
war
?
This
is
no
place
for
her
.
The
land
is
alive
with
danger
—
rife
with
death
.
"
"
Miladi
travels
with
M
.
le
Duc
,
her
brother
.
Miladi
does
not
know
what
fear
is
.
"
"
But
—
—
"
The
remonstrance
died
on
his
lips
;
he
stood
gazing
out
from
the
gloom
of
the
arch
at
a
face
close
to
him
,
on
which
the
sun
shone
full
,
a
face
unseen
for
twelve
long
years
,
and
which
,
a
moment
before
laughing
and
careless
in
the
light
,
changed
,
and
grew
set
,
and
rigid
,
and
pale
with
the
pallor
of
an
unutterable
horror
.
His
own
flushed
,
and
moved
,
and
altered
with
a
wholly
different
emotion
—
emotion
that
was
above
all
of
an
intense
and
yearning
tenderness
.
For
a
moment
both
stood
motionless
and
speechless
;
then
,
with
a
marvellous
self-command
and
self-restraint
,
Cecil
brought
his
hand
to
his
brow
in
military
salute
,
passed
with
the
impassiveness
of
a
soldier
who
passed
a
gentleman
,
reached
his
charger
,
and
rode
away
upon
his
errand
over
the
brown
and
level
ground
.
He
had
known
his
brother
in
that
fleeting
glance
;
but
he
hoped
that
his
brother
would
see
no
more
in
him
than
a
French
trooper
who
bore
resemblance
by
a
strange
hazard
to
one
long
believed
to
be
dead
and
gone
.
The
instinct
of
generosity
,
the
instinct
of
self-sacrifice
,
moved
him
now
as
,
long
ago
one
fatal
night
,
they
had
moved
him
to
bear
the
sin
of
his
mother
's
darling
as
his
own
.
Full
remembrance
,
full
consideration
of
what
he
had
done
,
never
came
to
him
as
he
dashed
on
across
the
many
leagues
that
still
lay
between
him
and
his
goal
.
His
one
impulse
had
been
to
spare
the
other
from
the
knowledge
that
he
lived
;
his
one
longing
was
to
have
the
hardness
and
the
bitterness
of
his
own
life
buried
in
the
oblivion
of
a
soldier
's
grave
.
Within
six-and-thirty
hours
the
instructions
he
bore
were
in
the
tent
of
the
Chef
du
Bataillon
whom
they
were
to
direct
,
and
he
himself
returned
to
the
caravanserai
to
fulfil
with
his
own
hand
to
the
dead
those
last
offices
which
he
would
delegate
to
none
.
It
was
night
when
he
arrived
;
all
was
still
and
deserted
.
He
inquired
if
the
party
of
tourists
was
gone
;
they
answered
him
in
the
affirmative
;
there
only
remained
the
detachment
of
the
French
Infantry
,
which
were
billeted
there
for
a
while
.
It
was
in
the
coolness
and
the
hush
of
the
night
,
with
the
great
stars
shining
clearly
over
the
darkness
of
the
plains
,
that
they
made
the
single
grave
,
under
a
leaning
shelf
of
rock
,
with
the
sombre
fans
of
a
pine
spread
above
it
,
and
nothing
near
but
the
sleeping
herds
of
goats
.
The
sullen
echo
of
the
soldiers
'
muskets
gave
its
only
funeral
requiem
;
and
the
young
lambs
and
kids
in
many
a
future
spring-time
would
come
and
play
,
and
browse
,
and
stretch
their
little
tired
limbs
upon
its
sod
,
its
sole
watchers
in
the
desolation
of
the
plains
.
When
all
was
over
,
and
the
startled
flocks
had
settled
once
again
to
rest
and
slumber
,
Cecil
still
remained
there
alone
.
Thrown
down
upon
the
grave
,
he
never
moved
as
hour
after
hour
went
by
.
To
others
that
lonely
and
unnoticed
tomb
would
be
as
nothing
;
only
one
amongst
the
thousand
marks
left
on
the
bosom
of
the
violated
earth
by
the
ravenous
and
savage
lusts
of
war
.
But
to
him
it
held
all
that
had
bound
him
to
his
lost
youth
,
his
lost
country
,
his
lost
peace
;
all
that
had
remained
of
the
years
that
were
gone
,
and
were
now
as
a
dream
of
the
night
.
This
man
had
followed
him
,
cleaved
to
him
,
endured
misery
and
rejected
honour
for
his
sake
;
and
all
the
recompense
such
a
life
received
was
to
be
stilled
for
ever
by
a
spear-thrust
of
an
unknown
foe
,
unthanked
,
undistinguished
,
unavenged
!
It
seemed
to
him
like
murder
—
murder
with
which
his
own
hand
was
stained
.
The
slow
night
hours
passed
;
in
the
stillness
that
had
succeeded
to
the
storm
of
the
past
day
,
there
was
not
a
sound
except
the
bleating
of
the
young
goats
straying
from
the
herd
.
He
lay
prostrate
under
the
black
boughs
of
the
pine
;
exhaustion
of
great
fatigue
was
on
him
,
a
grief
,
acute
as
remorse
,
consumed
him
for
the
man
who
,
following
his
fate
,
had
only
found
at
the
end
a
nameless
and
lonely
grave
in
the
land
of
his
exile
.
He
started
with
a
thrill
of
almost
superstitious
fear
as
through
the
silence
he
heard
a
name
whispered
—
the
name
of
his
childhood
,
of
his
past
.
He
sprang
to
his
feet
,
and
as
he
turned
in
the
moonlight
he
saw
once
more
his
brother
's
face
,
pale
as
the
face
of
the
dead
,
and
strained
with
an
agonising
dread
.
Concealment
was
no
longer
possible
:
the
younger
man
knew
that
the
elder
lived
;
knew
it
by
a
strange
and
irresistible
certainty
that
needed
no
proof
,
that
left
no
place
for
hope
or
fear
in
its
chill
,
leaden
,
merciless
conviction
.
For
some
moments
neither
spoke
.
A
flood
of
innumerable
memories
choked
thought
or
word
in
both
.
They
knew
each
other
;
—
all
was
said
in
that
.
Cecil
was
the
first
to
break
the
silence
.
He
moved
nearer
with
a
rapid
movement
,
and
his
hand
fell
heavily
on
the
other
's
shoulder
.
"
Have
you
lived
stainlessly
since
?
"
The
question
was
stern
as
the
demand
of
a
judge
.
His
brother
shuddered
beneath
this
touch
,
and
covered
his
face
with
his
hands
.
"
God
is
my
witness
,
yes
!
But
you
—
you
—
they
said
that
you
were
dead
!
"
...
Cecil
's
hand
fell
from
his
shoulder
.
There
was
that
in
the
words
which
smote
him
more
cruelly
than
any
Arab
steel
could
have
done
;
there
was
the
accent
of
regret
.
"
I
am
dead
,
"
he
said
simply
,
"
dead
to
the
world
and
you
.
"
He
who
bore
the
title
of
Royallieu
covered
his
face
.
"
How
have
you
lived
?
"
he
whispered
hoarsely
.
"
Honourably
.
Let
that
suffice
.
And
you
?
"
The
other
looked
up
at
him
with
a
piteous
appeal
—
the
old
timorous
terrified
appeal
that
had
been
so
often
seen
on
the
boy
's
face
,
strangely
returning
on
the
gracious
and
mature
beauty
of
the
man
's
.
"
In
honour
too
,
I
swear
!
That
was
my
first
disgrace
,
and
my
last
.
You
bore
the
weight
of
my
shame
?
Good
God
,
what
can
I
say
?
Such
nobility
,
such
sacrifice
—
—
"
He
would
have
