"And so, Monsieur," said she, after a long pause--"and so you deem this conquest of mine a very wonderful thing?"
"You mistake me," said I, eagerly,--"you mistake me much. My surprise was rather that one like Pioche, good-hearted, simple fellow as he is, should possess the refinement of feeling--"
[Ill.u.s.tration: Minnet_and_Pioche]
"A clever flank movement of yours. Lieutenant," interposed she, with a pleasant laugh; "and I"ll not attack you again. And, after all, I am a little proud of my conquest."
"The confession is a flattering one, from one who doubtless has had a great many to boast of."
"A great many, indeed!" replied she, navely; "so many, that I can"t reckon them,--not to boast of, however, as you term it. _Par bleu!_ some of them had little of that--But here comes the doctor, and I must not let him see us talking. _Ma foi_, they little think when their backs are turned how seldom we mind their directions!"
The surgeon"s visit was a matter of a few seconds; he contented himself with feeling my pulse and reiterating his advice as to quiet.
"You have got the best nurse in the army. Monsieur," said he, as he took his leave. "I have only one caution to give you,--take care if an affection of the heart be not a worse affair than a thrust of a small sword. I have known such a termination of an illness before now."
Mademoiselle made no reply save an arch look of half anger, and left the room; and I, wearied and exhausted, sank into a heavy slumber.
CHAPTER XLV. THE "VIVANDIRE OF THE FOURTH"
Von three entire weeks my wound confined me to the limits of mY chamber; and Yet, were it not for my impatience to be up and stirring, mY life was not devoid of happiness.
Every movement of the army, in its most minute detail, was daily reported to me by Mademoiselle Minette. The bulletins of the Emperor, the promotions, the _on dits_ of the bivouac and the march, brought by the various battalions, as they moved on towards the east, were all related by her with such knowledge of military phrase and soldiers"
style as to amuse me, equally by her manner as by what she told.
The cuira.s.siers marched soon after I received my wound, and though attached to the corps, she remained behind at Elchingen, having pledged herself, as she said, to the general, to restore me safe and sound before she left me. The little window beside my bed offered a widely-extended view over the great plain beneath; and there I have sat the entire day, watching the columns of cavalry and infantry as they poured along, seemingly without ceasing, towards the Lower Danube.
Sometimes the faint sounds of the soldiers" songs would reach me,--the rude chorus of a regiment timing their step to some warrior"s chant,--and set my heart a beating to be with them once more; sometimes my eye would rest upon the slow train of wagons, surmounted with a white flag, that wound their way heavily in the rear, and my spirit sank as I thought over the poor wounded fellows that were thus borne onward with the tide of war, as the crushed serpent trails his wounded folds behind him.
Mademoiselle seldom left me. Seated at her work, often for hours without speaking, she would follow the train of her own thoughts, and when by chance she gave a pa.s.sing glance through the window at the scene beneath, some single word would escape her as to the regiments or their officers, few of which were unknown to her, at least by reputation.
I could not but mark, that within the last twelve or fourteen days she seemed more sad and depressed than before; the lively gayety of her character had given place to a meek and suffering melancholy, which I could not help attributing to the circ.u.mstances in which she was placed, away from all her ordinary pursuits and the companions of her daily life. I hinted as much one day, and was about to insist on her leaving me, when she suddenly interrupted me, saying,--
"It is all true. I am sad, and know not why, for I never felt happier; yet, if you wished me to be gay as I used to be, I could not for the world. It is not because I am far from those I have learned to look on as my brothers; not so, my changeful fortune has often placed me thus.
Perhaps it"s your fault, mon lieutenant," said she, suddenly, turning her eyes full upon me.
"Mine, Minette,--mine!" said I, in amazement.
She blushed deeply, and held down her head, while her bosom heaved several times convulsively; and then, while a deathly paleness spread over her cheek, she said, in a low, broken voice,--
"Perhaps it is because I am an orphan, and never knew what it was to have those whose dispositions I should imitate, and whose tastes I should study; but somehow I feel even as though I could not help becoming like those I am near to,--following them, ay, and outstripping them, in all their likings and dislikings."
"And so, as you seem sad and sorrowful, it is more than probable that you took the color of my thoughts. I should feel sorry, Minette, to think it were thus; I should ill repay all your kindness to me. I must try and wear a happier countenance."
"Do so, and mine will soon reflect it," said she, laughing. "But, perhaps, you have cause for sorrow," added she, as she stole a glance at me beneath her eyelashes.
"You know, Minette, that I am an orphan like yourself," said I, half evading the question.
"Ah!" cried she, pa.s.sionately, "if I had been a man, I should like to be such a one as Murat there. See how his black eyes sparkle, and his proud lip curls, when the roll of artillery or the clattering of a platoon is heard! how his whole soul is in the fight! I remember once--it was at the Iser--his brigade was stationed beneath the hill, and had no orders to move forward for several hours. He used to get off his horse and walk about, and endeavor, by pushing the smoke away, thus, with his hand, and almost kneeling to the ground, to catch a view of the battle; and then he would spring into the saddle, and for sheer pa.s.sion dash the spurs into his horse"s flank, till he reared and plunged again. I watched him thus for hours. I loved to look on him, chafing and fretting like his own mettled charger, he was so handsome! "A drink, Minette! Something to cool my lips, for Heaven"s sake," said he, at last, as he saw me standing near him. I filled the little cup you see here with wine, and handed it to him. Scarcely had he raised it to his lips, when an aide-decamp galloped up, and whispered some words in haste.
""Ha, ha!" cried he, with a shout of joy; "they want us, then! The squadrons will advance by sections, and charge!--charge!" And with that he flung the goblet from him to the ground; and when I took it up I found that with the grasp of his strong fingers he had crushed it nearly together: see here! I never would let it be changed; it is just as at the time he clasped it, and I kept it as a souvenir of the prince."
She took from a little shelf the cup, as she spoke, and held it up before me with the devoted admiration with which some worshipper would regard a holy relic.
"And that," said Minette, as she pressed to her lips a faded c.o.c.kade, whose time-worn tints still showed the tricolored emblems of the Republic--"that do I value above the cross of the Legion itself."
"Whose was it, Minette? Some brave soldier"s, I"m sure."
"And you may be sure. That was the c.o.c.kade of Le Premier Grenadier de la France,--La Tour d"Auvergne, the cousin of your own general."
Seeing that I had not heard before of him, she paused for a few seconds in amazement, and then muttered, "A brave school to train the youth of France it must be where the name of La Tour d" Auvergne was never mentioned!"
Having thus vented her indignation, she proceeded to tell me of her hero, who, though descended from one of the most distinguished families of France, yet persisted in carrying his musket in the ranks of the Republican army, never attaining to a higher grade, nor known by any other t.i.tle than the "Premier Grenadier de la France." Foremost in every post of danger, the volunteer at every emergency of more than ordinary peril, he refused every proffer of advancement, and lived among his comrades the simple life of a soldier.
"He fell at Neuburg," said mademoiselle, "scarce a day"s march from here; they buried him on the field, and placed him dead, as he had been ever while living, with his face towards the enemy. And you never heard of him? _Juste Ciel!_ it is almost incredible. You never brigaded with the Forty-fifth of the line; that "s certain."
"And why so?"
"Because they call his name at every parade muster as though he were still alive and well. The first man called is La Tour d" Auvergne, and the first soldier answers, "Mort sur le champ de bataille." That "s a prouder monument than your statues and tombstones--is it not?"
"Indeed it is," said I, to whom the anecdote was then new, though I afterwards lived to hear it corroborated in every respect.
With many such traits of the service did mademoiselle beguile the time,--now telling of the pleasant life of the cantonment; now of the wild scenes of the battlefield. Young as she was, she had seen much of both, and learned around the bivouac fires the old traditions of the Revolutionary armies, and the brave deeds of the first veterans of France. In such narratives, too, her own enthusiastic nature burst forth in all its vehemence: her eyes would sparkle, and her words come rapidly, as she described some fierce attack or headlong charge; and it was impossible to listen without catching up a portion of her ardor, so wrapped up did she herself become in the excitement of her story.
Thus one evening, while describing the pa.s.sage of the Adige, after detailing most circ.u.mstantially the position and strength of the attacking columns, and describing how each successive advance was repulsed by the murderous fire of the artillery, she proceeded to relate the plan of a flank movement, effected by some light infantry regiment thrown across the river a considerable distance up the stream.
"We came along," said she, "under the shade of some willows, and at last reached the ford. The leading companies halted; two officers sounded the river, and found that it was pa.s.sable. I was close by at the time. It was the Colonel Lajolais who commanded the brigade, and he asked me for a goutte.
""It may be the last you "ll ever give me, Minette," said he; "I don"t expect to see you again."
""Are you going to remain at this side, Colonel?" said I.
""No, _parbleu!_" said he, "not when the Twenty-second cross to the other."
""Neither am I, then," said I; "my place is with the head of the battalion."
"Well, well; they all pressed me to stay back; they said a thousand kind things too. But that only decided me the more to go on; and as the signal rocket was fired, the word was given, and on we went. For the first eight or ten paces it was mere wading; but suddenly a grenadier in the front called out, _Gare!_ lift your muskets; it"s deep here." And so it was. With one plunge down I went; but they seized me by the arms and carried me along, and some way or other we reached the bank. _Morbleu!_ I felt half drowned. But there was little time to think over these things, for scarcely had the column formed when the cry of "Cavalry!"
was given, and down came the lancers with a swoop. But we were all ready. The flank companies fell back, and formed in square, and a tremendous volley sent them off faster than they came.
""Now, then, push forward double quick!" said the old colonel; "the _pas de charge!_, Alas! the poor little drummer was lying dead at his feet.
The thought suddenly seized me; I sprang forward, unstrung his drum, threw the strap over my shoulder, and beat the _pas de charge_! A cheer ran along the whole battalion, and on we went. _Mort de ceil!_ I was never so near the fire before. There was the enemy, scarce two hundred yards off,--two great columns, with artillery between,--waiting for us.
"Keep her back! keep back, Minette, _brave fille!_" I heard no more; a shot came whizzing past, and struck me here."
She pulled down her dress as she spoke, and disclosed the scar of a bullet"s track on her white shoulder; then, as if suddenly recollecting, she blushed deeply, drew her kerchief closely around her, and muttered in a low voice,--
"_Ma foi_, how these things make one forget to be a woman!" And with that she hung down her head, and despite all I could say would not utter another word.
Such was the vivandire of the Fourth: blending in her character the woman"s weakness and the soldier"s ardor; the delicacy of feeling, which not even the life of camps and bivouacs could eradicate, with the wild enthusiasm for glory,--the pa.s.sion of her nation. It needed not her dark eyes, shaded with their long black fringe; her oval face, whose freckles but displayed the transparent skin beneath; her graceful figure and her elastic step,--to make her an object of attraction in the regiment.