IV. How the Brigadier Saved the Army
I have told you, my friends, how we held the English shut up for sixmonths, from October, 1810, to March, 1811, within their lines of TorresVedras. It was during this time that I hunted the fox in their company,and showed them that amidst all their sportsmen there was not one whocould outride a Hussar of Conflans. When I galloped back into the Frenchlines with the blood of the creature still moist upon my blade theoutposts who had seen what I had done raised a frenzied cry in myhonour, whilst these English hunters still yelled behind me, so that Ihad the applause of both armies. It made the tears rise to my eyes tofeel that I had won the admiration of so many brave men. These Englishare generous foes. That very evening there came a packet under a whiteflag addressed "To the Hussar officer who cut down the fox." Within, Ifound the fox itself in two pieces, as I had left it. There was a notealso, short but hearty, as the English fashion is, to say that as I hadslaughtered the fox it only remained for me to eat it. They could notknow that it was not our French custom to eat foxes, and it showed theirdesire that he who had won the honours of the chase should also partakeof the game. It is not for a Frenchman to be outdone in politeness, andso I returned it to these brave hunters, and begged them to accept it asa side-dish for their next dejeuner de la chasse.
It is thus that chivalrous opponents make war.
I had brought back with me from my ride a clear plan of the Englishlines, and this I laid before Massena that very evening.
I had hoped that it would lead him to attack, but all the marshalswere at each other's throats, snapping and growling like so many hungryhounds. Ney hated Massena, and Massena hated Junot, and Soult hated themall. For this reason, nothing was done. In the meantime food grewmore and more scarce, and our beautiful cavalry was ruined for want offodder. With the end of the winter we had swept the whole country bare,and nothing remained for us to eat, although we sent our forage partiesfar and wide. It was clear even to the bravest of us that the time hadcome to retreat. I was myself forced to admit it.
But retreat was not so easy. Not only were the troops weak and exhaustedfrom want of supplies, but the enemy had been much encouraged by ourlong inaction. Of Wellington we had no great fear. We had found himto be brave and cautious, but with little enterprise. Besides, in thatbarren country his pursuit could not be rapid.
But on our flanks and in our rear there had gathered great numbers ofPortuguese militia, of armed peasants, and of guerillas. These peoplehad kept a safe distance all the winter, but now that our horses werefoundered they were as thick as flies all round our outposts, and noman's life was worth a sou when once he fell into their hands. I couldname a dozen officers of my own acquaintance who were cut off duringthat time, and the luckiest was he who received a ball from behind arock through his head or his heart. There were some whose deaths wereso terrible that no report of them was ever allowed to reach theirrelatives. So frequent were these tragedies, and so much did theyimpress the imagination of the men, that it became very difficult toinduce them to leave the camp.
There was one especial scoundrel, a guerilla chief named Manuelo, "TheSmiler," whose exploits filled our men with horror. He was a large,fat man of jovial aspect, and he lurked with a fierce gang among themountains which lay upon our left flank. A volume might be written ofthis fellow's cruelties and brutalities, but he was certainly a man ofpower, for he organised his brigands in a manner which made it almostimpossible for us to get through his country. This he did by imposinga severe discipline upon them and enforcing it by cruel penalties, apolicy by which he made them formidable, but which had some unexpectedresults, as I will show you in my story. Had he not flogged his ownlieutenant--but you will hear of that when the time comes.
There were many difficulties in connection with a retreat, but it wasvery evident that there was no other possible course, and so Massenabegan to quickly pass his baggage and his sick from Torres Novas, whichwas his headquarters, to Coimbra, the first strong post on his line ofcommunications. He could not do this unperceived, however, and at oncethe guerillas came swarming closer and closer upon our flanks. One ofour divisions, that of Clausel, with a brigade of Montbrun's cavalry,was far to the south of the Tagus, and it became very necessary to letthem know that we were about to retreat, for otherwise they would beleft unsupported in the very heart of the enemy's country. I rememberwondering how Massena would accomplish this, for simple couriers couldnot get through, and small parties would be certainly destroyed. In someway an order to fall back must be conveyed to these men, or France wouldbe the weaker by fourteen thousand men. Little did I think that it wasI, Colonel Gerard, who was to have the honour of a deed which might haveformed the crowning glory of any other man's life, and which stands highamong those exploits which have made my own so famous.
At that time I was serving on Massena's staff, and he had two otheraides-de-camp, who were also very brave and intelligent officers. Thename of one was Cortex and of the other Duplessis. They were senior tome in age, but junior in every other respect. Cortex was a small, darkman, very quick and eager. He was a fine soldier, but he was ruined byhis conceit. To take him at his own valuation, he was the first man inthe army.
Duplessis was a Gascon, like myself, and he was a very fine fellow, asall Gascon gentlemen are. We took it in turn, day about, to do duty, andit was Cortex who was in attendance upon the morning of which I speak.I saw him at breakfast, but afterward neither he nor his horse was to beseen. All day Massena was in his usual gloom, and he spent much of histime staring with his telescope at the English lines and at the shippingin the Tagus.
He said nothing of the mission upon which he had sent our comrade, andit was not for us to ask him any questions.
That night, about twelve o'clock, I was standing outside the Marshal'sheadquarters when he came out and stood motionless for half an hour,his arms folded upon his breast, staring through the darkness toward theeast.
So rigid and intent was he that you might have believed the muffledfigure and the cocked hat to have been the statue of the man. What hewas looking for I could not imagine; but at last he gave a bitter curse,and, turning on his heel, he went back into the house, banging the doorbehind him.
Next day the second aide-de-camp, Duplessis, had an interview withMassena in the morning, after which neither he nor his horse was seenagain. That night, as I sat in the ante-room, the Marshal passed me,and I observed him through the window standing and staring to the eastexactly as he had done before. For fully half an hour he remained there,a black shadow in the gloom.
Then he strode in, the door banged, and I heard his spurs and hisscabbard jingling and clanking through the passage. At the best he wasa savage old man, but when he was crossed I had almost as soon face theEmperor himself. I heard him that night cursing and stamping abovemy head, but he did not send for me, and I knew him too well to gounsought.
Next morning it was my turn, for I was the only aide-de-camp left. Iwas his favourite aide-de-camp. His heart went out always to a smartsoldier. I declare that I think there were tears in his black eyes whenhe sent for me that morning.
"Gerard," said he. "Come here!"
With a friendly gesture he took me by the sleeve and he led me to theopen window which faced the east. Beneath us was the infantry camp,and beyond that the lines of the cavalry with the long rows of picketedhorses.
We could see the French outposts, and then a stretch of open country,intersected by vineyards. A range of hills lay beyond, with onewell-marked peak towering above them. Round the base of these hills wasa broad belt of forest. A single road ran white and clear, dipping andrising until it passed through a gap in the hills.
"This," said Massena, pointing to the mountain, "is the Sierra deMerodal. Do you perceive anything upon the top?"
I answered that I did not.
"Now?" he asked, and he handed me his field-glass.
With its aid I perceived a small mound or cairn upon the crest.
"What you see," said the Marshal,
"is a pile of logs which was placedthere as a beacon. We laid it when the country was in our hands, andnow, although we no longer hold it, the beacon remains undisturbed.Gerard, that beacon must be lit to-night. France needs it, the Emperorneeds it, the army needs it. Two of your comrades have gone to light it,but neither has made his way to the summit. To-day it is your turn, andI pray that you may have better luck."
It is not for a soldier to ask the reason for his orders, and so I wasabout to hurry from the room, but the Marshal laid his hand upon myshoulder and held me.
"You shall know all, and so learn how high is the cause for which yourisk your life," said he. "Fifty miles to the south of us, on the otherside of the Tagus, is the army of General Clausel. His camp is situatednear a peak named the Sierra d'Ossa. On the summit of this peak is abeacon, and by this beacon he has a picket. It is agreed between us thatwhen at midnight he shall see our signal-fire he shall light his own asan answer, and shall then at once fall back upon the main army. Ifhe does not start at once I must go without him. For two days I haveendeavoured to send him his message. It must reach him to-day, or hisarmy will be left behind and destroyed."
Ah, my friends, how my heart swelled when I heard how high was the taskwhich Fortune had assigned to me!
If my life were spared, here was one more splendid new leaf for mylaurel crown. If, on the other hand, I died, then it would be a deathworthy of such a career. I said nothing, but I cannot doubt that allthe noble thoughts that were in me shone in my face, for Massena took myhand and wrung it.
"There is the hill and there the beacon," said he.
"There is only this guerilla and his men between you and it. I cannotdetach a large party for the enterprise and a small one would be seenand destroyed. Therefore to you alone I commit it. Carry it out in yourown way, but at twelve o'clock this night let me see the fire upon thehill."
"If it is not there," said I, "then I pray you, Marshal Massena, to seethat my effects are sold and the money sent to my mother." So I raisedmy hand to my busby and turned upon my heel, my heart glowing at thethought of the great exploit which lay before me.
I sat in my own chamber for some little time considering how I had besttake the matter in hand. The fact that neither Cortex nor Duplessis,who were very zealous and active officers, had succeeded in reachingthe summit of the Sierra de Merodal, showed that the country was veryclosely watched by the guerillas. I reckoned out the distance upon amap. There were ten miles of open country to be crossed before reachingthe hills. Then came a belt of forest on the lower slopes of themountain, which may have been three or four miles wide. And then therewas the actual peak itself, of no very great height, but without anycover to conceal me. Those were the three stages of my journey.
It seemed to me that once I had reached the shelter of the wood allwould be easy, for I could lie concealed within its shadows and climbupward under the cover of night.
From eight till twelve would give me four hours of darkness in whichto make the ascent. It was only the first stage, then, which I hadseriously to consider.
Over that flat country there lay the inviting white road, and Iremembered that my comrades had both taken their horses. That wasclearly their ruin, for nothing could be easier than for the brigands tokeep watch upon the road, and to lay an ambush for all who passed alongit. It would not be difficult for me to ride across country, and I waswell horsed at that time, for I had not only Violette and Rataplan, whowere two of the finest mounts in the army, but I had the splendid blackEnglish hunter which I had taken from Sir Cotton. However, after muchthought, I determined to go upon foot, since I should then be in abetter state to take advantage of any chance which might offer. As to mydress, I covered my Hussar uniform with a long cloak, and I put agrey forage cap upon my head. You may ask me why I did not dress asa peasant, but I answer that a man of honour has no desire to die thedeath of a spy. It is one thing to be murdered, and it is another to bejustly executed by the laws of war. I would not run the risk of such anend.
In the late afternoon I stole out of the camp and passed through theline of our pickets. Beneath my cloak I had a field-glass and a pocketpistol, as well as my sword. In my pocket were tinder, flint, and steel.
For two or three miles I kept under cover of the vineyards, and madesuch good progress that my heart was high within me, and I thought tomyself that it only needed a man of some brains to take the matter inhand to bring it easily to success. Of course, Cortex and Duplessisgalloping down the high-road would be easily seen, but the intelligentGerard lurking among the vines was quite another person. I dare say Ihad got as far as five miles before I met any check. At that point thereis a small wine-house, round which I perceived some carts and a numberof people, the first that I had seen. Now that I was well outside thelines I knew that every person was my enemy, so I crouched lower while Istole along to a point from which I could get a better view of what wasgoing on. I then perceived that these people were peasants, who wereloading two waggons with empty wine-casks. I failed to see how theycould either help or hinder me, so I continued upon my way.
But soon I understood that my task was not so simple as had appeared. Asthe ground rose the vineyards ceased, and I came upon a stretch of opencountry studded with low hills. Crouching in a ditch I examined themwith a glass, and I very soon perceived that there was a watcher uponevery one of them, and that these people had a line of pickets andoutposts thrown forward exactly like our own. I had heard of thediscipline which was practised by this scoundrel whom they called "TheSmiler," and this, no doubt, was an example of it.
Between the hills there was a cordon of sentries, and though I workedsome distance round to the flank I still found myself faced by theenemy. It was a puzzle what to do.
There was so little cover that a rat could hardly cross without beingseen. Of course, it would be easy enough to slip through at night, as Ihad done with the English at Torres Vedras, but I was still far fromthe mountain and I could not in that case reach it in time to light themidnight beacon. I lay in my ditch and I made a thousand plans, eachmore dangerous than the last. And then suddenly I had that flash oflight which comes to the brave man who refuses to despair.
You remember I have mentioned that two waggons were loading up withempty casks at the inn. The heads of the oxen were turned to the east,and it was evident that those waggons were going in the direction whichI desired. Could I only conceal myself upon one of them, what better andeasier way could I find of passing through the lines of the guerillas?So simple and so good was the plan that I could not restrain a cryof delight as it crossed my mind, and I hurried away instantly in thedirection of the inn. There, from behind some bushes, I had a good lookat what was going on upon the road.
There were three peasants with red montero caps loading the barrels, andthey had completed one waggon and the lower tier of the other. A numberof empty barrels still lay outside the wine-house waiting to be put on.
Fortune was my friend--I have always said that she is a woman and cannotresist a dashing young Hussar. As I watched, the three fellows went intothe inn, for the day was hot and they were thirsty after their labour.Quick as a flash I darted out from my hiding-place, climbed on to thewaggon, and crept into one of the empty casks.
It had a bottom but no top, and it lay upon its side with the open endinward. There I crouched like a dog in its kennel, my knees drawn up tomy chin, for the barrels were not very large and I am a well-grown man.As I lay there, out came the three peasants again, and presently I hearda crash upon the top of me which told that I had another barrel aboveme. They piled them upon the cart until I could not imagine how I wasever to get out again. However, it is time to think of crossing theVistula when you are over the Rhine, and I had no doubt that if chanceand my own wits had carried me so far they would carry me farther.
Soon, when the waggon was full, they set forth upon their way, and Iwithin my barrel chuckled at every step, for it was carrying me whitherI wished to go. We travelled slowly, and the peasants walked besid
e thewaggons.
This I knew, because I heard their voices close to me. They seemed to meto be very merry fellows, for they laughed heartily as they went. Whatthe joke was I could not understand. Though I speak their languagefairly well I could not hear anything comic in the scraps of theirconversation which met my ear.
I reckoned that at the rate of walking of a team of oxen we coveredabout two miles an hour. Therefore, when I was sure that two and ahalf hours had passed--such hours, my friends, cramped, suffocated, andnearly poisoned with the fumes of the lees--when they had passed, I wassure that the dangerous open country was behind us, and that we wereupon the edge of the forest and the mountain. So now I had to turn mymind upon how I was to get out of my barrel. I had thought of severalways, and was balancing one against the other when the question wasdecided for me in a very simple but unexpected manner.
The waggon stopped suddenly with a jerk, and I heard a number of gruffvoices in excited talk. "Where, where?" cried one. "On our cart," saidanother. "Who is he?" said a third. "A French officer; I saw his capand his boots." They all roared with laughter. "I was looking out of thewindow of the posada and I saw him spring into the cask like a toreadorwith a Seville bull at his heels." "Which cask, then?" "It was thisone," said the fellow, and sure enough his fist struck the wood besidemy head.
What a situation, my friends, for a man of my standing!
I blush now, after forty years, when I think of it.
To be trussed like a fowl and to listen helplessly to the rude laughterof these boors--to know, too, that my mission had come to an ignominiousand even ridiculous end--I would have blessed the man who would havesent a bullet through the cask and freed me from my misery.
I heard the crashing of the barrels as they hurled them off the waggon,and then a couple of bearded faces and the muzzles of two guns looked inat me. They seized me by the sleeves of my coat, and they dragged meout into the daylight. A strange figure I must have looked as I stoodblinking and gaping in the blinding sunlight.
My body was bent like a cripple's, for I could not straighten my stiffjoints, and half my coat was as red as an English soldier's from thelees in which I had lain.
They laughed and laughed, these dogs, and as I tried to express by mybearing and gestures the contempt in which I held them their laughtergrew all the louder. But even in these hard circumstances I bore myselflike the man I am, and as I cast my eye slowly round I did not find thatany of the laughers were very ready to face it.
That one glance round was enough to tell me exactly how I was situated.I had been betrayed by these peasants into the hands of an outpost ofguerillas. There were eight of them, savage-looking, hairy creatures,with cotton handkerchiefs under their sombreros, and many-buttonedjackets with coloured sashes round the waist.
Each had a gun and one or two pistols stuck in his girdle.
The leader, a great, bearded ruffian, held his gun against my ear whilethe others searched my pockets, taking from me my overcoat, my pistol,my glass, my sword, and, worst of all, my flint and steel and tinder.Come what might, I was ruined, for I had no longer the means of lightingthe beacon even if I should reach it.
Eight of them, my friends, with three peasants, and I unarmed! WasEtienne Gerard in despair? Did he lose his wits? Ah, you know me toowell; but they did not know me yet, these dogs of brigands. Never haveI made so supreme and astounding an effort as at this very instant whenall seemed lost. Yet you might guess many times before you would hitupon the device by which I escaped them. Listen and I will tell you.
They had dragged me from the waggon when they searched me, and I stood,still twisted and warped, in the midst of them. But the stiffness waswearing off, and already my mind was very actively looking out for somemethod of breaking away. It was a narrow pass in which the brigands hadtheir outpost. It was bounded on the one hand by a steep mountain side.On the other the ground fell away in a very long slope, which ended in abushy valley many hundreds of feet below. These fellows, you understand,were hardy mountaineers, who could travel either up hill or down verymuch quicker than I. They wore abarcas, or shoes of skin, tied on likesandals, which gave them a foothold everywhere. A less resolute manwould have despaired. But in an instant I saw and used the strangechance which Fortune had placed in my way. On the very edge of the slopewas one of the wine-barrels. I moved slowly toward it, and then with atiger spring I dived into it feet foremost, and with a roll of my body Itipped it over the side of the hill.
Shall I ever forget that dreadful journey--how I bounded and crashedand whizzed down that terrible slope? I had dug in my knees and elbows,bunching my body into a compact bundle so as to steady it; but my headprojected from the end, and it was a marvel that I did not dash out mybrains. There were long, smooth slopes, and then came steeper scarpswhere the barrel ceased to roll, and sprang into the air like a goat,coming down with a rattle and crash which jarred every bone in my body.How the wind whistled in my ears, and my head turned and turned until Iwas sick and giddy and nearly senseless! Then, with a swish and a greatrasping and crackling of branches, I reached the bushes which I had seenso far below me. Through them I broke my way, down a slope beyond, anddeep into another patch of underwood, where, striking a sapling, mybarrel flew to pieces. From amid a heap of staves and hoops I crawledout, my body aching in every inch of it, but my heart singing loudlywith joy and my spirit high within me, for I knew how great was the featwhich I had accomplished, and I already seemed to see the beacon blazingon the hill.
A horrible nausea had seized me from the tossing which I had undergone,and I felt as I did upon the ocean when first I experienced thosemovements of which the English have taken so perfidious an advantage. Ihad to sit for a few moments with my head upon my hands beside the ruinsof my barrel. But there was no time for rest.
Already I heard shouts above me which told that my pursuers weredescending the hill. I dashed into the thickest part of the underwood,and I ran and ran until I was utterly exhausted. Then I lay panting andlistened with all my ears, but no sound came to them. I had shaken offmy enemies.
When I had recovered my breath I travelled swiftly on, and wadedknee-deep through several brooks, for it came into my head that theymight follow me with dogs.
On gaining a clear place and looking round me, I found to my delightthat in spite of my adventures I had not been much out of my way. Aboveme towered the peak of Merodal, with its bare and bold summit shootingout of the groves of dwarf oaks which shrouded its flanks.
These groves were the continuation of the cover under which I foundmyself, and it seemed to me that I had nothing to fear now until Ireached the other side of the forest. At the same time I knew that everyman's hand was against me, that I was unarmed, and that there weremany people about me. I saw no one, but several times I heard shrillwhistles, and once the sound of a gun in the distance.
It was hard work pushing one's way through the bushes, and so I was gladwhen I came to the larger trees and found a path which led betweenthem. Of course, I was too wise to walk upon it, but I kept near it andfollowed its course. I had gone some distance, and had, as I imagined,nearly reached the limit of the wood, when a strange, moaning sound fellupon my ears. At first I thought it was the cry of some animal, but thenthere came words, of which I only caught the French exclamation, "MonDieu!" With great caution I advanced in the direction from which thesound proceeded, and this is what I saw.
On a couch of dried leaves there was stretched a man dressed in the samegrey uniform which I wore myself.
He was evidently horribly wounded, for he held a cloth to his breastwhich was crimson with his blood. A pool had formed all round his couch,and he lay in a haze of flies, whose buzzing and droning would certainlyhave called my attention if his groans had not come to my ear.
I lay for a moment, fearing some trap, and then, my pity and loyaltyrising above all other feelings, I ran forward and knelt by his side.He turned a haggard face upon me, and it was Duplessis, the man whohad gone before me. It needed but one glance
at his sunken cheeks andglazing eyes to tell me that he was dying.
"Gerard!" said he; "Gerard!"
I could but look my sympathy, but he, though the life was ebbing swiftlyout of him, still kept his duty before him, like the gallant gentlemanhe was.
"The beacon, Gerard! You will light it?"
"Have you flint and steel?"
"It is here!"
"Then I will light it to-night."
"I die happy to hear you say so. They shot me, Gerard. But you will tellthe Marshal that I did my best."
"And Cortex?"
"He was less fortunate. He fell into their hands and died horribly. Ifyou see that you cannot get away, Gerard, put a bullet into your ownheart. Don't die as Cortex did."
I could see that his breath was failing, and I bent low to catch hiswords.
"Can you tell me anything which can help me in my task?" I asked.
"Yes, yes; de Pombal. He will help you. Trust de Pombal." With the wordshis head fell back and he was dead.
"Trust de Pombal. It is good advice." To my amazement a man was standingat the very side of me.
So absorbed had I been in my comrade's words and intent on his advicethat he had crept up without my observing him. Now I sprang to my feetand faced him. He was a tall, dark fellow, black-haired, black-eyed,black-bearded, with a long, sad face. In his hand he had a wine-bottleand over his shoulder was slung one of the trabucos or blunderbusseswhich these fellows bear. He made no effort to unsling it, and Iunderstood that this was the man to whom my dead friend had commendedme.
"Alas, he is gone!" said he, bending over Duplessis.
"He fled into the wood after he was shot, but I was fortunate enoughto find where he had fallen and to make his last hours more easy. Thiscouch was my making, and I had brought this wine to slake his thirst."
"Sir," said I, "in the name of France I thank you. I am but a colonelof light cavalry, but I am Etienne Gerard, and the name stands forsomething in the French army. May I ask----"
"Yes, sir, I am Aloysius de Pombal, younger brother of the famousnobleman of that name. At present I am the first lieutenant in the bandof the guerilla chief who is usually known as Manuelo, 'The Smiler.'"
My word, I clapped my hand to the place where my pistol should havebeen, but the man only smiled at the gesture.
"I am his first lieutenant, but I am also his deadly enemy," said he.He slipped off his jacket and pulled up his shirt as he spoke. "Look atthis!" he cried, and he turned upon me a back which was all scored andlacerated with red and purple weals. "This is what 'The Smiler' has doneto me, a man with the noblest blood of Portugal in my veins. What I willdo to 'The Smiler' you have still to see."
There was such fury in his eyes and in the grin of his white teeth thatI could no longer doubt his truth, with that clotted and oozing back tocorroborate his words.
"I have ten men sworn to stand by me," said he. "In a few days I hopeto join your army, when I have done my work here. In the meanwhile--" Astrange change came over his face, and he suddenly slung his musket tothe front: "Hold up your hands, you French hound!" he yelled. "Up withthem, or I blow your head of!"
You start, my friends! You stare! Think, then, how I stared and startedat this sudden ending of our talk.
There was the black muzzle and there the dark, angry eyes behind it.What could I do? I was helpless. I raised my hands in the air. At thesame moment voices sounded from all parts of the wood, there were cryingand calling and rushing of many feet. A swarm of dreadful figuresbroke through the green bushes, a dozen hands seized me, and I, poor,luckless, frenzied I, was a prisoner once more. Thank God, there wasno pistol which I could have plucked from my belt and snapped at my ownhead. Had I been armed at that moment I should not be sitting here inthis cafe and telling you these old-world tales.
With grimy, hairy hands clutching me on every side I was led along thepathway through the wood, the villain de Pombal giving directions to mycaptors. Four of the brigands carried up the dead body of Duplessis.
The shadows of evening were already falling when we cleared the forestand came out upon the mountain-side.
Up this I was driven until we reached the headquarters of the guerillas,which lay in a cleft close to the summit of the mountain. There was thebeacon which had cost me so much, a square stack of wood, immediatelyabove our heads. Below were two or three huts which had belonged, nodoubt, to goatherds, and which were now used to shelter these rascals.Into one of these I was cast, bound and helpless, and the dead body ofmy poor comrade was laid beside me.
I was lying there with the one thought still consuming me, how to wait afew hours and to get at that pile of fagots above my head, when the doorof my prison opened and a man entered. Had my hands been free I shouldhave flown at his throat, for it was none other than de Pombal. A coupleof brigands were at his heels, but he ordered them back and closed thedoor behind him.
"You villain!" said I.
"Hush!" he cried. "Speak low, for I do not know who may be listening,and my life is at stake. I have some words to say to you, ColonelGerard; I wish well to you, as I did to your dead companion. As I spoketo you beside his body I saw that we were surrounded, and that yourcapture was unavoidable. I should have shared your fate had I hesitated.I instantly captured you myself, so as to preserve the confidence of theband. Your own sense will tell you that there was nothing else for me todo. I do not know now whether I can save you, but at least I will try."
This was a new light upon the situation. I told him that I could nottell how far he spoke the truth, but that I would judge him by hisactions.
"I ask nothing better," said he. "A word of advice to you! The chiefwill see you now. Speak him fair, or he will have you sawn between twoplanks. Contradict nothing he says. Give him such information as hewants. It is your only chance. If you can gain time something may comein our favour. Now, I have no more time. Come at once, or suspicion maybe awakened."
He helped me to rise, and then, opening the door, he dragged me out veryroughly, and with the aid of the fellows outside he brutally pushed andthrust me to the place where the guerilla chief was seated, with hisrude followers gathered round him.
A remarkable man was Manuelo, "The Smiler." He was fat and florid andcomfortable, with a big, clean-shaven face and a bald head, the verymodel of a kindly father of a family. As I looked at his honest smile Icould scarcely believe that this was, indeed, the infamous ruffian whosename was a horror through the English Army as well as our own. It iswell known that Trent, who was a British officer, afterward had thefellow hanged for his brutalities. He sat upon a boulder and he beamedupon me like one who meets an old acquaintance.
I observed, however, that one of his men leaned upon a long saw, and thesight was enough to cure me of all delusions.
"Good evening, Colonel Gerard," said he. "We have been highly honouredby General Massena's staff: Major Cortex one day, Colonel Duplessisthe next, and now Colonel Gerard. Possibly the Marshal himself maybe induced to honour us with a visit. You have seen Duplessis, Iunderstand. Cortex you will find nailed to a tree down yonder. It onlyremains to be decided how we can best dispose of yourself."
It was not a cheering speech; but all the time his fat face was wreathedin smiles, and he lisped out his words in the most mincing and amiablefashion. Now, however, he suddenly leaned forward, and I read a veryreal intensity in his eyes.
"Colonel Gerard," said he, "I cannot promise you your life, for it isnot our custom, but I can give you an easy death or I can give you aterrible one. Which shall it be?"
"What do you wish me to do in exchange?"
"If you would die easy I ask you to give me truthful answers to thequestions which I ask."
A sudden thought flashed through my mind.
"You wish to kill me," said I; "it cannot matter to you how I die. IfI answer your questions, will you let me choose the manner of my owndeath?"
"Yes, I will," said he, "so long as it is before midnight to-night."
"Swear it!" I cried.<
br />
"The word of a Portuguese gentleman is sufficient," said he.
"Not a word will I say until you have sworn it."
He flushed with anger and his eyes swept round toward the saw. But heunderstood from my tone that I meant what I said, and that I was nota man to be bullied into submission. He pulled a cross from under hiszammara or jacket of black sheepskin.
"I swear it," said he.
Oh, my joy as I heard the words! What an end--what an end for the firstswordsman of France! I could have laughed with delight at the thought.
"Now, your questions!" said I.
"You swear in turn to answer them truly?"
"I do, upon the honour of a gentleman and a soldier."
It was, as you perceive, a terrible thing that I promised, but what wasit compared to what I might gain by compliance?
"This is a very fair and a very interesting bargain," said he, taking anote-book from his pocket.
"Would you kindly turn your gaze toward the French camp?"
Following the direction of his gesture, I turned and looked down uponthe camp in the plain beneath us. In spite of the fifteen miles,one could in that clear atmosphere see every detail with the utmostdistinctness.
There were the long squares of our tents and our huts, with the cavalrylines and the dark patches which marked the ten batteries of artillery.How sad to think of my magnificent regiment waiting down yonder, and toknow that they would never see their colonel again! With one squadron ofthem I could have swept all these cut-throats off the face of the earth.My eager eyes filled with tears as I looked at the corner of the campwhere I knew that there were eight hundred men, any one of whom wouldhave died for his colonel. But my sadness vanished when I saw beyond thetents the plumes of smoke which marked the headquarters at Torres Novas.There was Massena, and, please God, at the cost of my life his missionwould that night be done. A spasm of pride and exultation filled mybreast. I should have liked to have had a voice of thunder that I mightcall to them, "Behold it is I, Etienne Gerard, who will die in order tosave the army of Clausel!" It was, indeed, sad to think that so noble adeed should be done, and that no one should be there to tell the tale.
"Now," said the brigand chief, "you see the camp and you see also theroad which leads to Coimbra. It is crowded with your fourgons and yourambulances. Does this mean that Massena is about to retreat?"
One could see the dark moving lines of waggons with an occasional flashof steel from the escort. There could, apart from my promise, be noindiscretion in admitting that which was already obvious.
"He will retreat," said I.
"By Coimbra?"
"I believe so."
"But the army of Clausel?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Every path to the south is blocked. No message can reach them. IfMassena falls back the army of Clausel is doomed."
"It must take its chance," said I.
"How many men has he?"
"I should say about fourteen thousand."
"How much cavalry?"
"One brigade of Montbrun's Division."
"What regiments?"
"The 4th Chasseurs, the 9th Hussars, and a regiment of Cuirassiers."
"Quite right," said he, looking at his note-book. "I can tell youspeak the truth, and Heaven help you if you don't." Then, division bydivision, he went over the whole army, asking the composition of eachbrigade.
Need I tell you that I would have had my tongue torn out before I wouldhave told him such things had I not a greater end in view? I would lethim know all if I could but save the army of Clausel.
At last he closed his note-book and replaced it in his pocket. "I amobliged to you for this information, which shall reach Lord Wellingtonto-morrow," said he.
"You have done your share of the bargain; it is for me now to performmine. How would you wish to die? As a soldier you would, no doubt,prefer to be shot, but some think that a jump over the Merodal precipiceis really an easier death. A good few have taken it, but we were,unfortunately, never able to get an opinion from them afterward. Thereis the saw, too, which does not appear to be popular. We could hang you,no doubt, but it would involve the inconvenience of going down to thewood. However, a promise is a promise, and you seem to be an excellentfellow, so we will spare no pains to meet your wishes."
"You said," I answered, "that I must die before midnight. I will choose,therefore, just one minute before that hour."
"Very good," said he. "Such clinging to life is rather childish, butyour wishes shall be met."
"As to the method," I added, "I love a death which all the world cansee. Put me on yonder pile of fagots and burn me alive, as saints andmartyrs have been burned before me. That is no common end, but one whichan Emperor might envy."
The idea seemed to amuse him very much. "Why not?" said he. "If Massenahas sent you to spy upon us, he may guess what the fire upon themountain means."
"Exactly," said I. "You have hit upon my very reason. He will guess, andall will know, that I have died a soldier's death."
"I see no objection whatever," said the brigand, with his abominablesmile. "I will send some goat's flesh and wine into your hut. The sun issinking and it is nearly eight o'clock. In four hours be ready for yourend."
It was a beautiful world to be leaving. I looked at the golden hazebelow, where the last rays of the sinking sun shone upon the blue watersof the winding Tagus and gleamed upon the white sails of the Englishtransports.
Very beautiful it was, and very sad to leave; but there are things morebeautiful than that. The death that is died for the sake of others,honour, and duty, and loyalty, and love--these are the beauties farbrighter than any which the eye can see. My breast was filled withadmiration for my own most noble conduct, and with wonder whether anysoul would ever come to know how I had placed myself in the heart of thebeacon which saved the army of Clausel. I hoped so and I prayed so,for what a consolation it would be to my mother, what an example to thearmy, what a pride to my Hussars! When de Pombal came at last into myhut with the food and the wine, the first request I made him was that hewould write an account of my death and send it to the French camp.
He answered not a word, but I ate my supper with a better appetite fromthe thought that my glorious fate would not be altogether unknown.
I had been there about two hours when the door opened again, and thechief stood looking in. I was in darkness, but a brigand with a torchstood beside him, and I saw his eyes and his teeth gleaming as he peeredat me.
"Ready?" he asked.
"It is not yet time."
"You stand out for the last minute?"
"A promise is a promise."
"Very good. Be it so. We have a little justice to do among ourselves,for one of my fellows has been misbehaving. We have a strict rule of ourown which is no respecter of persons, as de Pombal here could tell you.Do you truss him and lay him on the faggots, de Pombal, and I willreturn to see him die."
De Pombal and the man with the torch entered, while I heard the steps ofthe chief passing away. De Pombal closed the door.
"Colonel Gerard," said he, "you must trust this man, for he is one ofmy party. It is neck or nothing. We may save you yet. But I take a greatrisk, and I want a definite promise. If we save you, will you guaranteethat we have a friendly reception in the French camp and that all thepast will be forgotten?"
"I do guarantee it."
"And I trust your honour. Now, quick, quick, there is not an instant tolose! If this monster returns we shall die horribly, all three."
I stared in amazement at what he did. Catching up a long rope he woundit round the body of my dead comrade, and he tied a cloth round hismouth so as to almost cover his face.
"Do you lie there!" he cried, and he laid me in the place of the deadbody. "I have four of my men waiting, and they will place this upon thebeacon." He opened the door and gave an order. Several of the brigandsentered and bore out Duplessis. For myself I remained upon the floor,with my mind in a turmoil of hope and won
der.
Five minutes later de Pombal and his men were back.
"You are laid upon the beacon," said he; "I defy anyone in the worldto say it is not you, and you are so gagged and bound that no one canexpect you to speak or move. Now, it only remains to carry forth thebody of Duplessis and to toss it over the Merodal precipice."
Two of them seized me by the head and two by the heels, and carried me,stiff and inert, from the hut. As I came into the open air I could havecried out in my amazement. The moon had risen above the beacon, andthere, clear outlined against its silver light, was the figure of theman stretched upon the top. The brigands were either in their camp orstanding round the beacon, for none of them stopped or questioned ourlittle party. De Pombal led them in the direction of the precipice. Atthe brow we were out of sight, and there I was allowed to use my feetonce more. De Pombal pointed to a narrow, winding track.
"This is the way down," said he, and then, suddenly,
"Dios mio, what is that?"
A terrible cry had risen out of the woods beneath us.
I saw that de Pombal was shivering like a frightened horse.
"It is that devil," he whispered. "He is treating another as he treatedme. But on, on, for Heaven help us if he lays his hands upon us."
One by one we crawled down the narrow goat track.
At the bottom of the cliff we were back in the woods once more. Suddenlya yellow glare shone above us, and the black shadows of the tree-trunksstarted out in front.
They had fired the beacon behind us. Even from where we stood we couldsee that impassive body amid the flames, and the black figures of theguerillas as they danced, howling like cannibals, round the pile. Ha!how I shook my fist at them, the dogs, and how I vowed that one day myHussars and I would make the reckoning level!
De Pombal knew how the outposts were placed and all the paths which ledthrough the forest. But to avoid these villains we had to plunge amongthe hills and walk for many a weary mile. And yet how gladly would Ihave walked those extra leagues if only for one sight which they broughtto my eyes! It may have been two o'clock in the morning when we haltedupon the bare shoulder of a hill over which our path curled. Lookingback we saw the red glow of the embers of the beacon as if volcanicfires were bursting from the tall peak of Merodal. And then, as I gazed,I saw something else--something which caused me to shriek with joy andto fall upon the ground, rolling in my delight. For, far away upon thesouthern horizon, there winked and twinkled one great yellow light,throbbing and flaming, the light of no house, the light of no star,but the answering beacon of Mount d'Ossa, which told that the army ofClausel knew what Etienne Gerard had been sent to tell them.