第 13 节
作者:
插翅难飞 更新:2021-04-30 17:18 字数:9322
yell of the terrified Spaniards was heard the terrific shout of the storming
column of Grenadiers。 As in a dreama happy dreamI heard it; and
then I heard no more。
When I came to my senses two French soldiers were propping me up;
and my head was singing like a kettle。
I staggered to my feet and looked around me。 The plaster had fallen;
the furniture was scattered; and there were rents in the bricks; but no signs
of a breach。 In fact; the walls of the convent had been so solid that the
explosion of the magazine had been insufficient to throw them down。 On
the other hand; it had caused such a panic among the defenders that our
stormers had been able to carry the windows and throw open the doors
almost without assistance。 As I ran out into the corridor I found it full of
troops; and I met Marshal Lannes himself; who was entering with his staff。
He stopped and listened eagerly to my story。
〃Splendid; Captain Gerard; splendid!〃 he cried。
〃These facts will certainly be reported to the Emperor。〃
〃I would suggest to your Excellency;〃 said I; 〃that I have only finished
the work that was planned and carried out by Monsieur Hubert; who gave
his life for the cause。〃
〃His services will not be forgotten;〃 said the Marshal。
〃Meanwhile; Captain Gerard; it is half…past four; and you must be
starving after such a night of exertion。
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My staff and I will breakfast inside the city。 I assure you that you
will be an honoured guest。〃
〃I will follow your Excellency;〃 said I。 〃There is a small engagement
which detains me。〃
He opened his eyes。
〃At this hour?〃
〃Yes; sir;〃 I answered。 〃My fellow…officers; whom I never saw until
last night; will not be content unless they catch another glimpse of me the
first thing this morning。〃
〃Au revoir; then;〃 said Marshal Lannes; as he passed upon his way。
I hurried through the shattered door of the convent。
When I reached the roofless house in which we had held the
consultation the night before; I threw of my gown and I put on the busby
and sabre which I had left there。
Then; a Hussar once more; I hurried onward to the grove which was
our rendezvous。 My brain was still reeling from the concussion of the
powder; and I was exhausted by the many emotions which had shaken me
during that terrible night。 It is like a dream; all that walk in the first dim
grey light of dawn; with the smouldering camp…fires around me and the
buzz of the waking army。 Bugles and drums in every direction were
mustering the infantry; for the explosion and the shouting had told their
own tale。 I strode onward until; as I entered the little clump of cork oaks
behind the horse lines; I saw my twelve comrades waiting in a group; their
sabres at their sides。 They looked at me curiously as I approached。
Perhaps with my powder… blackened face and my blood…stained hands I
seemed a different Gerard to the young captain whom they had made
game of the night before。
〃Good morning; gentlemen;〃 said I。 〃I regret exceedingly if I have
kept you waiting; but I have not been master of my own time。〃
They said nothing; but they still scanned me with curious eyes。 I can
see them now; standing in a line before me; tall men and short men; stout
men and thin men: Olivier; with his warlike moustache; the thin; eager
face of Pelletan; young Oudin; flushed by his first duel; Mortier; with the
sword…cut across his wrinkled brow。
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I laid aside my busby and drew my sword。
〃I have one favour to ask you; gentlemen;〃 said I。
〃Marshal Lannes has invited me to breakfast and I cannot keep him
waiting。〃
〃What do you suggest?〃 asked Major Olivier。
〃That you release me from my promise to give you five minutes each;
and that you will permit me to attack you all together。〃 I stood upon my
guard as I spoke。
But their answer was truly beautiful and truly French。 With one
impulse the twelve swords flew from their scabbards and were raised in
salute。 There they stood; the twelve of them; motionless; their heels
together; each with his sword upright before his face。
I staggered back from them。 I looked from one to the other。 For an
instant I could not believe my own eyes。 They were paying me homage;
these; the men who had jeered me! Then I understood it all。 I saw the
effect that I had made upon them and their desire to make reparation。
When a man is weak he can steel himself against danger; but not against
emotion。
〃Comrades;〃 I cried; 〃comrades!〃 but I could say no more。
Something seemed to take me by the throat and choke me。 And then
in an instant Olivier's arms were round me; Pelletan had seized me by the
right hand; Mortier by the left; some were patting me on the shoulder;
some were clapping me on the back; on every side smiling faces were
looking into mine; and so it was that I knew that I had won my footing in
the Hussars of Conflans。
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III。 How the Brigadier Slew the
Fox'*'
'*' This story; already published in The Green Flag; is included here
so that all of the Brigadier Gerard stories may appear together。
In all the great hosts of France there was only one officer toward
whom the English of Wellington's Army retained a deep; steady; and
unchangeable hatred。
There were plunderers among the French; and men of violence;
gamblers; duellists; and roues。 All these could be forgiven; for others of
their kidney were to be found among the ranks of the English。 But one
officer of Massena's force had committed a crime which was unspeakable;
unheard of; abominable; only to be alluded to with curses late in the
evening; when a second bottle had loosened the tongues of men。 The
news of it was carried back to England; and country gentlemen who knew
little of the details of the war grew crimson with passion when they heard
of it; and yeomen of the shires raised freckled fists to Heaven and swore。
And yet who should be the doer of this dreadful deed but our friend the
Brigadier; Etienne Gerard; of the Hussars of Conflans; gay…riding; plume…
tossing; debonair; the darling of the ladies and of the six brigades of light
cavalry。
But the strange part of it is that this gallant gentleman did this hateful
thing; and made himself the most unpopular man in the Peninsula; without
ever knowing that he had done a crime for which there is hardly a name
amid all the resources of our language。 He died of old age; and never
once in that imperturbable self… confidence which adorned or disfigured
his character knew that so many thousand Englishmen would gladly have
hanged him with their own hands。 On the contrary; he numbered this
adventure among those other exploits which he has given to the world; and
many a time he chuckled and hugged himself as he narrated it to the eager
circle who gathered round him in that humble cafe where; between his
dinner and his dominoes; he would tell; amid tears and laughter; of that
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inconceivable Napoleonic past when France; like an angel of wrath; rose
up; splendid and terrible; before a cowering continent。 Let us listen to
him as he tells the story in his own way and from his own point of view。
You must know; my friends; said he; that it was toward the end of the
year eighteen hundred and ten that I and Massena and the others pushed
Wellington backward until we had hoped to drive him and his army i