The Adventures of Gerard

Chapter 2

How the Brigadier Captured Saragossa

--

Have I ever told you, my friends, the circumstances connected

with my joining the Hussars of Conflans at the time of the siege

of Saragossa and the very remarkable exploit which I performed in

connection with the taking of that city? No? Then you have

indeed something still to learn. I will tell it to you exactly

as it occurred. Save for two or three men and a score or two of

women, you are the first who have ever heard the story.

You must know, then, that it was in the Second Hussars--called

the Hussars of Chamberan--that I had served as a lieutenant and

as a junior captain. At the time I speak of I was only

twenty-five years of age, as reckless and desperate a man as any

in that great army.

It chanced that the war had come to a halt in Germany, while it

was still raging in Spain, so the Emperor, wishing to reinforce

the Spanish army, transferred me as senior captain to the Hussars

of Conflans, which were at that time in the Fifth Army Corps

under Marshal Lannes.

It was a long journey from Berlin to the Pyrenees.

My new regiment formed part of the force which, under Marshal

Lannes, was then besieging the Spanish town of Saragossa. I

turned my horse's head in that direction, therefore, and behold

me a week or so later at the French headquarters, whence I was

directed to the camp of the Hussars of Conflans.

You have read, no doubt, of this famous siege of Saragossa, and I

will only say that no general could have had a harder task than

that with which Marshal Lannes was confronted. The immense city

was crowded with a horde of Spaniards--soldiers, peasants,

priests --all filled with the most furious hatred of the French,

and the most savage determination to perish before they would

surrender. There were eighty thousand men in the town and only

thirty thousand to besiege them. Yet we had a powerful

artillery, and our engineers were of the best. There was never

such a siege, for it is usual that when the fortifications are

taken the city falls, but here it was not until the

fortifications were taken that the real fighting began. Every

house was a fort and every street a battle-field, so that slowly,

day by day, we had to work our way inwards, blowing up the houses

with their garrisons until more than half the city had

disappeared. Yet the other half was as determined as ever and in

a better position for defence, since it consisted of enormous

convents and monasteries with walls like the Bastille, which

could not be so easily brushed out of our way. This was the

state of things at the time that I joined the army.

I will confess to you that cavalry are not of much use in a

siege, although there was a time when I would not have permitted

anyone to have made such an observation. The Hussars of Conflans

were encamped to the south of the town, and it was their duty to

throw out patrols and to make sure that no Spanish force was

advancing from that quarter. The colonel of the regiment was not

a good soldier, and the regiment was at that time very far from

being in the high condition which it afterwards attained. Even

in that one evening I saw several things which shocked me, for I

had a high standard, and it went to my heart to see an ill-

arranged camp, an ill-groomed horse, or a slovenly trooper. That

night I supped with twenty-six of my new brother-officers, and I

fear that in my zeal I showed them only too plainly that I found

things very different to what I was accustomed in the army of

Germany.

There was silence in the mess after my remarks, and I felt that I

had been indiscreet when I saw the glances that were cast at me.

The colonel especially was furious, and a great major named

Olivier, who was the fire-eater of the regiment, sat opposite to

me curling his huge black moustaches, and staring at me as if he

would eat me. However, I did not resent his attitude, for I felt

that I had indeed been indiscreet, and that it would give a bad

impression if upon this my first evening I quarrelled with my

superior officer.

So far I admit that I was wrong, but now I come to the sequel.

Supper over, the colonel and some other officers left the room,

for it was in a farm-house that the mess was held. There

remained a dozen or so, and a goat-skin of Spanish wine having

been brought in we all made merry. Presently this Major Olivier

asked me some questions concerning the army of Germany and as to

the part which I had myself played in the campaign. Flushed with

the wine, I was drawn on from story to story. It was not

unnatural, my friends.

You will sympathise with me. Up there I had been the model for

every officer of my years in the army. I was the first

swordsman, the most dashing rider, the hero of a hundred

adventures. Here I found myself not only unknown, but even

disliked. Was it not natural that I should wish to tell these

brave comrades what sort of man it was that had come among them?

Was it not natural that I should wish to say, "Rejoice, my

friends, rejoice! It is no ordinary man who has joined you

to-night, but it is I, THE Gerard, the hero of Ratisbon, the

victor of Jena, the man who broke the square at Austerlitz"? I

could not say all this. But I could at least tell them some

incidents which would enable them to say it for themselves. I

did so. They listened unmoved. I told them more. At last,

after my tale of how I had guided the army across the Danube, one

universal shout of laughter broke from them all. I sprang to my

feet, flushed with shame and anger. They had drawn me on. They

were making game of me. They were convinced that they had to do

with a braggart and a liar. Was this my reception in the Hussars

of Conflans?

I dashed the tears of mortification from my eyes, and they

laughed the more at the sight.

"Do you know, Captain Pelletan, whether Marshal Lannes is still

with the army?" asked the major.

"I believe that he is, sir," said the other.

"Really, I should have thought that his presence was hardly

necessary now that Captain Gerard has arrived."

Again there was a roar of laughter. I can see the ring of faces,

the mocking eyes, the open mouths-- Olivier with his great black

bristles, Pelletan thin and sneering, even the young

sub-lieutenants convulsed with merriment. Heavens, the indignity

of it! But my rage had dried my tears. I was myself again,

cold, quiet, self-contained, ice without and fire within.

"May I ask, sir," said I to the major, "at what hour the regiment

is paraded?"

"I trust, Captain Gerard, that you do not mean to alter our

hours," said he, and again there was a burst of laughter, which

died away as I looked slowly round the circle.

"What hour is the assembly?" I asked, sharply, of Captain

Pelletan.

Some mocking answer was on his tongue, but my glance kept it

there. "The assembly is at six," he answered.

"I thank you," said I. I then counted the company and found that

I had to do with fourteen officers, two of whom appeared to be

boys fresh from St. Cyr. I could not condescend to take any

notice of their indiscretion.

There remained the major, four captains, and seven lieutenants.

"Gentlemen," I continued, looking from one to the other of them,

"I should feel myself unworthy of this famous regiment if I did

not ask you for satisfaction for the rudeness with which you have

greeted me, and I should hold you to be unworthy of it if on any

pretext you refused to grant it."

"You will have no difficulty upon that score," said the major.

"I am prepared to waive my rank and to give you every

satisfaction in the name of the Hussars of Conflans."

"I thank you," I answered. "I feel, however, that I have some

claim upon these other gentlemen who laughed at my expense."

"Whom would you fight, then?" asked Captain Pelletan.

"All of you," I answered.

They looked in surprise from one to the other. Then they drew

off to the other end of the room, and I heard the buzz of their

whispers. They were laughing. Evidently they still thought that

they had to do with some empty braggart. Then they returned.

"Your request is unusual," said Major Olivier, "but it will be

granted. How do you propose to conduct such a duel? The terms

lie with you."

"Sabres," said I. "And I will take you in order of seniority,

beginning with you, Major Olivier, at five o'clock. I will thus

be able to devote five minutes to each before the assembly is

blown. I must, however, beg you to have the courtesy to name the

place of meeting, since I am still ignorant of the locality."

They were impressed by my cold and practical manner.

Already the smile had died away from their lips.

Olivier's face was no longer mocking, but it was dark and stern.

"There is a small open space behind the horse lines," said he.

"We have held a few affairs of honour there and it has done very

well. We shall be there, Captain Gerard, at the hour you name."

I was in the act of bowing to thank them for their acceptance

when the door of the mess-room was flung open and the colonel

hurried into the room, with an agitated face.

"Gentlemen," said he, "I have been asked to call for a volunteer

from among you for a service which involves the greatest possible

danger. I will not disguise from you that the matter is serious

in the last degree, and that Marshal Lannes has chosen a cavalry

officer because he can be better spared than an officer of

infantry or of engineers. Married men are not eligible. Of the

others, who will volunteer?"

I need not say that all the unmarried officers stepped to the

front. The colonel looked round in some embarrassment.

I could see his dilemma. It was the best man who should go, and

yet it was the best man whom he could least spare.

"Sir," said I, "may I be permitted to make a suggestion?"

He looked at me with a hard eye. He had not forgotten my

observations at supper. "Speak!" said he.

"I would point out, sir," said I, "that this mission is mine both

by right and by convenience."

"Why so, Captain Gerard?"

"By right because I am the senior captain. By convenience

because I shall not be missed in the regiments since the men have

not yet learned to know me."

The colonel's features relaxed.

"There is certainly truth in what you say, Captain Gerard," said

he. "I think that you are indeed best fitted to go upon this

mission. If you will come with me I will give you your

instructions."

I wished my new comrades good-night as I left the room, and I

repeated that I should hold myself at their disposal at five

o'clock next morning. They bowed in silence, and I thought that

I could see from the expression of their faces that they had

already begun to take a more just view of my character.

I had expected that the colonel would at once inform me what it

was that I had been chosen to do, but instead of that he walked

on in silence, I following behind him.

We passed through the camp and made our way across the trenches

and over the ruined heaps of stones which marked the old wall of

the town. Within, there was a labyrinth of passages formed among

the debris of the houses which had been destroyed by the mines of

the engineers. Acres and acres were covered with splintered

walls and piles of brick which had once been a populous suburb.

Lanes had been driven through it and lanterns placed at the

corners with inscriptions to direct the wayfarer. The colonel

hurried onward until at last, after a long walk, we found our way

barred by a high grey wall which stretched right across our path.

Here behind a barricade lay our advance guard. The colonel led

me into a roofless house, and there I found two general officers,

a map stretched over a drum in front of them, they kneeling

beside it and examining it carefully by the light of a lantern.

The one with the clean-shaven face and the twisted neck was

Marshal Lannes, the other was General Razout, the head of the

engineers.

"Captain Gerard has volunteered to go," said the colonel.

Marshal Lannes rose from his knees and shook me by the hand.

"You are a brave man, sir," said he. "I have a present to make

to you," he added, handing me a very tiny glass tube. "It has

been specially prepared by Dr. Fardet. At the supreme moment you

have but to put it to your lips and you will be dead in an

instant."

This was a cheerful beginning. I will confess to you, my

friends, that a cold chill passed up my back and my hair rose

upon my head.

"Excuse me, sir," said I, as I saluted, "I am aware that I have

volunteered for a service of great danger, but the exact details

have not yet been given to me."

"Colonel Perrin," said Lannes, severely, "it is unfair to allow

this brave officer to volunteer before he has learned what the

perils are to which he will be exposed."

But already I was myself once more.

"Sir," said I, "permit me to remark that the greater the danger

the greater the glory, and that I could only repent of

volunteering if I found that there were no risks to be run."

It was a noble speech, and my appearance gave force to my words.

For the moment I was a heroic figure.

As I saw Lannes's eyes fixed in admiration upon my face it

thrilled me to think how splendid was the debut which I was

making in the army of Spain. If I died that night my name would

not be forgotten. My new comrades and my old, divided in all

else, would still have a point of union in their love and

admiration of Etienne Gerard.

"General Razout, explain the situation!" said Lannes, briefly.

The engineer officer rose, his compasses in his hand.

He led me to the door and pointed to the high grey wall which

towered up amongst the debris of the shattered houses.

"That is the enemy's present line of defence," said he. "It is

the wall of the great Convent of the Madonna. If we can carry it

the city must fall, but they have run countermines all round it,

and the walls are so enormously thick that it would be an immense

labour to breach it with artillery. We happen to know, however,

that the enemy have a considerable store of powder in one of the

lower chambers. If that could be exploded the way would be clear

for us."

"How can it be reached?" I asked.

"I will explain. We have a French agent within the town named

Hubert. This brave man has been in constant communication with

us, and he had promised to explode the magazine. It was to be

done in the early morning, and for two days running we have had a

storming party of a thousand Grenadiers waiting for the breach to

be formed. But there has been no explosion, and for these two

days we have had no communication from Hubert.

The question is, what has become of him?"

"You wish me to go and see?"

"Precisely. Is he ill, or wounded, or dead? Shall we still wait

for him, or shall we attempt the attack elsewhere?

We cannot determine this until we have heard from him. This is a

map of the town, Captain Gerard.

You perceive that within this ring of convents and monasteries

are a number of streets which branch off from a central square.

If you come so far as this square you will find the cathedral at

one corner. In that corner is the street of Toledo. Hubert

lives in a small house between a cobbler's and a wine-shop, on

the right-hand side as you go from the cathedral. Do you follow

me?"

"Clearly."

"You are to reach that house, to see him, and to find out if his

plan is still feasible or if we must abandon it."

He produced what appeared to be a roll of dirty brown flannel.

"This is the dress of a Franciscan friar," said he. "You will

find it the most useful disguise."

I shrank away from it.

"It turns me into a spy," I cried. "Surely I can go in my

uniform?"

"Impossible! How could you hope to pass through the streets of

the city? Remember, also, that the Spaniards take no prisoners,

and that your fate will be the same in whatever dress you are

taken."

It was true, and I had been long enough in Spain to know that

that fate was likely to be something more serious than mere

death. All the way from the frontier I had heard grim tales of

torture and mutilation. I enveloped myself in the Franciscan

gown.

"Now I am ready."

"Are you armed?"

"My sabre."

"They will hear it clank. Take this knife, and leave your sword.

Tell Hubert that at four o'clock, before dawn, the storming party

will again be ready. There is a sergeant outside who will show

you how to get into the city. Good-night, and good luck!"

Before I had left the room, the two generals had their cocked

hats touching each other over the map. At the door an

under-officer of engineers was waiting for me.

I tied the girdle of my gown, and taking off my busby, I drew the

cowl over my head. My spurs I removed. Then in silence I

followed my guide.

It was necessary to move with caution, for the walls above were

lined by the Spanish sentries, who fired down continually at our

advance posts. Slinking along under the very shadow of the great

convent, we picked our way slowly and carefully among the piles

of ruins until we came to a large chestnut tree. Here the

sergeant stopped.

"It is an easy tree to climb," said he. "A scaling ladder would

not be simpler. Go up it, and you will find that the top branch

will enable you to step upon the roof of that house. After that

it is your guardian angel who must be your guide, for I can help

you no more."

Girding up the heavy brown gown, I ascended the tree as directed.

A half moon was shining brightly, and the line of roof stood out

dark and hard against the purple, starry sky. The tree was in

the shadow of the house.

Slowly I crept from branch to branch until I was near the top. I

had but to climb along a stout limb in order to reach the wall.

But suddenly my ears caught the patter of feet, and I cowered

against the trunk and tried to blend myself with its shadow. A

man was coming toward me on the roof. I saw his dark figure

creeping along, his body crouching, his head advanced, the barrel

of his gun protruding. His whole bearing was full of caution and

suspicion. Once or twice he paused, and then came on again until

he had reached the edge of the parapet within a few yards of me.

Then he knelt down, levelled his musket, and fired.

I was so astonished at this sudden crash at my very elbow that I

nearly fell out of the tree. For an instant I could not be sure

that he had not hit me. But when I heard a deep groan from

below, and the Spaniard leaned over the parapet and laughed

aloud, I understood what had occurred. It was my poor, faithful

sergeant, who had waited to see the last of me. The Spaniard had

seen him standing under the tree and had shot him. You will

think that it was good shooting in the dark, but these people

used trabucos, or blunderbusses, which were filled up with all

sorts of stones and scraps of metal, so that they would hit you

as certainly as I have hit a pheasant on a branch. The Spaniard

stood peering down through the darkness, while an occasional

groan from below showed that the sergeant was still living. The

sentry looked round and everything was still and safe.

Perhaps he thought that he would like to finish of this accursed

Frenchman, or perhaps he had a desire to see what was in his

pockets; but whatever his motive, he laid down his gun, leaned

forward, and swung himself into the tree. The same instant I

buried my knife in his body, and he fell with a loud crashing

through the branches and came with a thud to the ground. I heard

a short struggle below and an oath or two in French.

The wounded sergeant had not waited long for his vengeance.

For some minutes I did not dare to move, for it seemed certain

that someone would be attracted by the noise.

However, all was silent save for the chimes striking midnight in

the city. I crept along the branch and lifted myself on to the

roof. The Spaniard's gun was lying there, but it was of no

service to me, since he had the powder-horn at his belt. At the

same time, if it were found, it would warn the enemy that

something had happened, so I thought it best to drop it over the

wall.

Then I looked round for the means of getting of the roof and down

into the city.

It was very evident that the simplest way by which I could get

down was that by which the sentinel had got up, and what this was

soon became evident. A voice along the roof called "Manuelo!

Manuelo!" several times, and, crouching in the shadow, I saw in

the moonlight a bearded head, which protruded from a trap- door.

Receiving no answer to his summons, the man climbed through,

followed by three other fellows, all armed to the teeth. You

will see here how important it is not to neglect small

precautions, for had I left the man's gun where I found it, a

search must have followed and I should certainly have been

discovered. As it was, the patrol saw no sign of their sentry,

and thought, no doubt, that he had moved along the line of the

roofs.

They hurried on, therefore, in that direction, and I, the instant

that their backs were turned, rushed to the open trap-door and

descended the flight of steps which led from it. The house

appeared to be an empty one, for I passed through the heart of it

and out, by an open door, into the street beyond.

It was a narrow and deserted lane, but it opened into a broader

road, which was dotted with fires, round which a great number of

soldiers and peasants were sleeping.

The smell within the city was so horrible that one wondered how

people could live in it, for during the months that the siege had

lasted there had been no attempt to cleanse the streets or to

bury the dead. Many people were moving up and down from fire to

fire, and among them I observed several monks. Seeing that they

came and went unquestioned, I took heart and hurried on my way in

the direction of the great square. Once a man rose from beside

one of the fires and stopped me by seizing my sleeve. He pointed

to a woman who lay motionless on the road, and I took him to mean

that she was dying, and that he desired me to administer the last

offices of the Church. I sought refuge, however, in the very

little Latin that was left to me. "Ora pro nobis," said I, from

the depths of my cowl. "Te Deum laudamus.

Ora pro nobis." I raised my hand as I spoke and pointed forward.

The fellow released my sleeve and shrank back in silence, while

I, with a solemn gesture, hurried upon my way.

As I had imagined, this broad boulevard led out into the central

square, which was full of troops and blazing with fires. I

walked swiftly onward, disregarding one or two people who

addressed remarks to me. I passed the cathedral and followed the

street which had been described to me. Being upon the side of

the city which was farthest from our attack, there were no troops

encamped in it, and it lay in darkness, save for an occasional

glimmer in a window. It was not difficult to find the house to

which I had been directed, between the wine- shop and the

cobbler's. There was no light within and the door was shut.

Cautiously I pressed the latch, and I felt that it had yielded.

Who was within I could not tell, and yet I must take the risk. I

pushed the door open and entered.

It was pitch-dark within--the more so as I had closed the door

behind me. I felt round and came upon the edge of a table. Then

I stood still and wondered what I should do next, and how I could

gain some news of this Hubert, in whose house I found myself.

Any mistake would cost me not only my life but the failure of my

mission. Perhaps he did not live alone. Perhaps he was only a

lodger in a Spanish family, and my visit might bring ruin to him

as well as to myself. Seldom in my life have I been more

perplexed. And then, suddenly, something turned my blood cold in

my veins. It was a voice, a whispering voice, in my very ear.

"Mon Dieu!" cried the voice, in a tone of agony. "Oh, mon Dieu!

mon Dieu!" Then there was a dry sob in the darkness, and all was

still once more.

It thrilled me with horror, that terrible voice, but it thrilled

me also with hope, for it was the voice of a Frenchman.

"Who is there?" I asked.

There was a groaning, but no reply.

"Is that you, Monsieur Hubert?"

"Yes, yes," sighed the voice, so low that I could hardly hear it.

"Water, water, for Heaven's sake, water!"

I advanced in the direction of the sound, but only to come in

contact with the wall. Again I heard a groan, but this time

there could be no doubt that it was above my head. I put up my

hands, but they felt only empty air.

"Where are you?" I cried.

"Here! Here!" whispered the strange, tremulous voice.

I stretched my hand along the wall and I came upon a man's naked

foot. It was as high as my face, and yet, so far as I could

feel, it had nothing to support it. I staggered back in

amazement. Then I took a tinder- box from my pocket and struck a

light. At the first flash a man seemed to be floating in the air

in front of me, and I dropped the box in my amazement. Again

with tremulous fingers I struck the flint against the steel, and

this time I lit not only the tinder but the wax taper. I held it

up, and if my amazement was lessened my horror was increased by

that which it revealed.

The man had been nailed to the wall as a weasel is nailed to the

door of a barn. Huge spikes had been driven through his hands

and his feet. The poor wretch was in his last agony, his head

sunk upon his shoulder and his blackened tongue protruding from

his lips. He was dying as much from thirst as from his wounds,

and these inhuman wretches had placed a beaker of wine upon the

table in front of him to add a fresh pang to his tortures.

I raised it to his lips. He had still strength enough to

swallow, and the light came back a little to his dim eyes.

"Are you a Frenchman?" he whispered.

"Yes. They have sent me to learn what had befallen you."

"They discovered me. They have killed me for it.

But before I die let me tell you what I know. A little more of

that wine, please! Quick! Quick! I am very near the end. My

strength is going. Listen to me!

The powder is stored in the Mother Superior's room.

The wall is pierced, and the end of the train is in Sister

Angela's cell, next the chapel. All was ready two days ago. But

they discovered a letter and they tortured me."

"Good heavens! have you been hanging here for two days?"

"It seems like two years. Comrade, I have served France, have I

not? Then do one little service for me.

Stab me to the heart, dear friend! I implore you, I entreat you,

to put an end to my sufferings."

The man was indeed in a hopeless plight, and the kindest action

would have been that for which he begged.

And yet I could not in cold blood drive my knife into his body,

although I knew how I should have prayed for such a mercy had I

been in his place. But a sudden thought crossed my mind. In my

pocket I held that which would give an instant and a painless

death. It was my own safeguard against torture, and yet this

poor soul was in very pressing need of it, and he had deserved

well of France. I took out my phial and emptied it into the cup

of wine. I was in the act of handing it to him when I heard a

sudden clash of arms outside the door.

In an instant I put out my light and slipped behind the

window-curtains. Next moment the door was flung open and two

Spaniards strode into the room, fierce, swarthy men in the dress

of citizens, but with muskets slung over their shoulders. I

looked through the c***k in the curtains in an agony of fear lest

they had come upon my traces, but it was evident that their visit

was simply in order to feast their eyes upon my unfortunate

compatriot.

One of them held the lantern which he carried up in front of the

dying man, and both of them burst into a shout of mocking

laughter. Then the eyes of the man with the lantern fell upon

the flagon of wine upon the table. He picked it up, held it,

with a devilish grin, to the lips of Hubert, and then, as the

poor wretch involuntarily inclined his head forward to reach it,

he snatched it back and took a long gulp himself. At the same

instant he uttered a loud cry, clutched wildly at his own throat,

and fell stone-dead upon the floor. His comrade stared at him in

horror and amazement. Then, overcome by his own superstitious

fears, he gave a yell of terror and rushed madly from the room.

I heard his feet clattering wildly on the cobble-stones until the

sound died away in the distance.

The lantern had been left burning upon the table, and by its

light I saw, as I came out from behind my curtain, that the

unfortunate Hubert's head had fallen forward upon his chest and

that he also was dead. That motion to reach the wine with his

lips had been his last. A clock ticked loudly in the house, but

otherwise all was absolutely still. On the wall hung the twisted

form of the Frenchman, on the floor lay the motionless body of

the Spaniard, all dimly lit by the horn lantern. For the first

time in my life a frantic spasm of terror came over me. I had

seen ten thousand men in every conceivable degree of mutilation

stretched upon the ground, but the sight had never affected me

like those two silent figures who were my companions in that

shadowy room. I rushed into the street as the Spaniard had done,

eager only to leave that house of gloom behind me, and I had run

as far as the cathedral before my wits came back to me.

There I stopped, panting, in the shadow, and, my hand pressed to

my side, I tried to collect my scattered senses and to plan out

what I should do. As I stood there, breathless, the great brass

bells roared twice above my head. It was two o'clock. Four was

the hour when the storming-party would be in its place. I had

still two hours in which to act.

The cathedral was brilliantly lit within, and a number of people

were passing in and out; so I entered, thinking that I was less

likely to be accosted there, and that I might have quiet to form

my plans. It was certainly a singular sight, for the place had

been turned into an hospital, a refuge, and a store-house. One

aisle was crammed with provisions, another was littered with sick

and wounded, while in the centre a great number of helpless

people had taken up their abode, and had even lit their cooking

fires upon the mosaic floors. There were many at prayer, so I

knelt in the shadow of a pillar, and I prayed with all my heart

that I might have the good luck to get out of this scrape alive,

and that I might do such a deed that night as would make my name

as famous in Spain as it had already become in Germany. I waited

until the clock struck three, and then I left the cathedral and

made my way toward the Convent of the Madonna, where the assault

was to be delivered. You will understand, you who know me so

well, that I was not the man to return tamely to the French camp

with the report that our agent was dead and that other means must

be found of entering the city. Either I should find some means

to finish his uncompleted task or there would be a vacancy for a

senior captain in the Hussars of Conflans.

I passed unquestioned down the broad boulevard, which I have

already described, until I came to the great stone convent which

formed the outwork of the defence.

It was built in a square with a garden in the centre. In this

garden some hundreds of men were assembled, all armed and ready,

for it was known, of course, within the town that this was the

point against which the French attack was likely to be made. Up

to this time our fighting all over Europe had always been done

between one army and another. It was only here in Spain that we

learned how terrible a thing it is to fight against a people.

On the one hand there is no glory, for what glory could be gained

by defeating this rabble of elderly shopkeepers, ignorant

peasants, fanatical priests, excited women, and all the other

creatures who made up the garrison? On the other hand there were

extreme discomfort and danger, for these people would give you no

rest, would observe no rules of war, and were desperately earnest

in their desire by hook or by crook to do you an injury. I began

to realise how odious was our task as I looked upon the motley

but ferocious groups who were gathered round the watch-fires in

the garden of the Convent of the Madonna. It was not for us

soldiers to think about politics, but from the beginning there

always seemed to be a curse upon this war in Spain.

However, at the moment I had no time to brood over such matters

as these. There was, as I have said, no difficulty in getting as

far as the convent garden, but to pass inside the convent

unquestioned was not so easy.

The first thing which I did was to walk round the garden, and I

was soon able to pick out one large stained-glass window which

must belong to the chapel. I had understood from Hubert that the

Mother Superior's room, in which the powder was stored, was near

to this, and that the train had been laid through a hole in the

wall from some neighbouring cell. I must, at all costs, get into

the convent. There was a guard at the door, and how could I get

in without explanations? But a sudden inspiration showed me how

the thing might be done. In the garden was a well, and beside

the well were a number of empty buckets. I filled two of these,

and approached the door. The errand of a man who carries a

bucket of water in each hand does not need to be explained. The

guard opened to let me through. I found myself in a long,

stone-flagged corridor, lit with lanterns, with the cells of the

nuns leading out from one side of it. Now at last I was on the

high road to success. I walked on without hesitation, for I knew

by my observations in the garden which way to go for the chapel.

A number of Spanish soldiers were lounging and smoking in the

corridor, several of whom addressed me as I passed. I fancy it

was for my blessing that they asked, and my "Ora pro nobis"

seemed to entirely satisfy them. Soon I had got as far as the

chapel, and it was easy enough to see that the cell next door was

used as a magazine, for the floor was all black with powder in

front of it. The door was shut, and two fierce-looking fellows

stood on guard outside it, one of them with a key stuck in his

belt. Had we been alone, it would not have been long before it

would have been in my hand, but with his comrade there it was

impossible for me to hope to take it by force. The cell next

door to the magazine on the far side from the chapel must be the

one which belonged to Sister Angela. It was half open. I took

my courage in both hands and, leaving my buckets in the corridor,

I walked unchallenged into the room.

I was prepared to find half a dozen fierce Spanish desperadoes

within, but what actually met my eyes was even more embarrassing.

The room had apparently been set aside for the use of some of the

nuns, who for some reason had refused to quit their home. Three

of them were within, one an elderly, stern-faced dame, who was

evidently the Mother Superior, the others, young ladies of

charming appearance. They were seated together at the far side

of the room, but they all rose at my entrance, and I saw with

some amazement, by their manner and expressions, that my coming

was both welcome and expected. In a moment my presence of mind

had returned, and I saw exactly how the matter lay.

Naturally, since an attack was about to be made upon the convent,

these sisters had been expecting to be directed to some place of

safety. Probably they were under vow not to quit the walls, and

they had been told to remain in this cell until they received

further orders.

In any case I adapted my conduct to this supposition, since it

was clear that I must get them out of the room, and this would

give me a ready excuse to do so. I first cast a glance at the

door and observed that the key was within. I then made a gesture

to the nuns to follow me. The Mother Superior asked me some

question, but I shook my head impatiently and beckoned to her

again.

She hesitated, but I stamped my foot and called them forth in so

imperious a manner that they came at once.

They would be safer in the chapel, and thither I led them,

placing them at the end which was farthest from the magazine. As

the three nuns took their places before the altar my heart

bounded with joy and pride within me, for I felt that the last

obstacle had been lifted from my path.

And yet how often have I not found that that is the very moment

of danger? I took a last glance at the Mother Superior, and to

my dismay I saw that her piercing dark eyes were fixed, with an

expression in which surprise was deepening into suspicion, upon

my right hand. There were two points which might well have

attracted her attention. One was that it was red with the blood

of the sentinel whom I had stabbed in the tree. That alone might

count for little, as the knife was as familiar as the breviary to

the monks of Saragossa.

But on my forefinger I wore a heavy gold ring --the gift of a

certain German baroness whose name I may not mention. It shone

brightly in the light of the altar lamp. Now, a ring upon a

friar's hand is an impossibility, since they are vowed to

absolute poverty.

I turned quickly and made for the door of the chapel, but the

mischief was done. As I glanced back I saw that the Mother

Superior was already hurrying after me. I ran through the chapel

door and along the corridor, but she called out some shrill

warning to the two guards in front. Fortunately I had the

presence of mind to call out also, and to point down the passage

as if we were both pursuing the same object. Next instant I had

dashed past them, sprang into the cell, slammed the heavy door,

and fastened it upon the inside.

With a bolt above and below and a huge lock in the centre it was

a piece of timber that would take some forcing.

Even now if they had had the wit to put a barrel of powder

against the door I should have been ruined. It was their only

chance, for I had come to the final stage of my adventure. Here

at last, after such a string of dangers as few men have ever

lived to talk of, I was at one end of the powder train, with the

Saragossa magazine at the other. They were howling like wolves

out in the passage, and muskets were crashing against the door.

I paid no heed to their clamour, but I looked eagerly around for

that train of which Hubert had spoken. Of course, it must be at

the side of the room next to the magazine. I crawled along it on

my hands and knees, looking into every crevice, but no sign could

I see. Two bullets flew through the door and flattened

themselves against the wall. The thudding and smashing grew ever

louder. I saw a grey pile in a corner, flew to it with a cry of

joy, and found that it was only dust. Then I got back to the

side of the door where no bullets could ever reach me--they were

streaming freely into the room--and I tried to forget this

fiendish howling in my ear and to think out where this train

could be. It must have been carefully laid by Hubert lest these

nuns should see it. I tried to imagine how I should myself have

arranged it had I been in his place.

My eye was attracted by a statue of St. Joseph which stood in the

corner. There was a wreath of leaves along the edge of the

pedestal, with a lamp burning amidst them. I rushed across to it

and tore the leaves aside.

Yes, yes, there was a thin black line, which disappeared through

a small hole in the wall. I tilted over the lamp and threw

myself on the ground. Next instant came a roar like thunder, the

walls wavered and tottered around me, the ceiling clattered down

from above, and over the yell of the terrified Spaniards was

heard the terrific shout of the storming column of Grenadiers.

As in a dream--a happy dream--I 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.

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.

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.