THE CRIME OF THE BRIGADIER.

Evening Star, Issue 13002, 22 December 1906, Page 13

THE CRIME OF THE BRIGADIER.

[Published By Special Arrangement.]

BV A COSAS DOYLE, Author of ‘ The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes,’ ‘The Tragedy of the Korosko,’ -> Uncle Bernac,’ ‘ Kodney Stone,’ ‘ The 'Cinloita of Brigadier Gerard,’ etc. [Copyright.] in all the great hosts of France there was only one officer towards whom the English of A\ ellington’s army retained a deep, steady, and unchangeable hatred. There were plunderers among the French, and awu of violence, gamblers, duellists, and roues. All these could be forgiven, for others of their kidney were to bo found among the ranks of the English. But one officer of Massena’s force had committed a crime which was unspeakable, unheard of, abominable, only to be alluded to with curses late in the evening, when a second bottle had loosened the tongues of men. The news of it was carried back to England, and country gentlemen who tnew little of the details of the war grew :rimsoa with passion when they heard of !t, and yeomen of the shires raised freckled fists to heaven and swore. And yet who should bo the doer of this dreadful deed but our friend the Brigadier, Etienne Gerard, of the Hussars of Conflans, gayriding, plume-tossing, debonnaire, the darling of the ladies and of the six brigades of light cavalry. But the strange part of it is that this gallant gentleman did this hateful thing, and made himself the most unpopular man in the Peninsula, without ever knowing that he had done a crime for which there is hardly a name amid all the resources of our language. He died of old age, and never once in that imperturbable self-confidence which adorned or disfigured bis character knew that so many thousand Englishmen would gladly have hanged him with their own hands. On the contrary, he numbered this adventure among those other exploits which ho has given to the world, and many a time he chuckled and hugged himself as he narrated it to the eager circle who gathered round him in that humble cafe where, between bis dinner and his dominoes, he would tell, amid tears and laughter, of that inconceivable Napoleonic past when France, like an angel of wrath, rose up, splendid and terrible, before a cowering continent. Let ns listen to him as he tells the story in his own way and from his own point of view.

You must know, toy friends, that it was towards the end of the year eighteen hundred and ten that Massena and I and the others pushed Wellington backwards until we had hoped to drive him and his armv into the Tagus. But when wo were still twenty-five mites from Lisbon we found that we were betrayed, for what had this Englishman done but built an enormous line of works and forts at a place called Torres Vedras, so that even we were unable to get through them They lay across the whole Peninsula, and our army was so far from home that we did not dare to risk a reverse, and we had already learned at Busaeo that it was no child’s play to fight aganist these people. What could we do then but sit down in front of these lines aud blockade theca to the best of our power? There we remained lor six months amid such anxieties that Massena said afterwards that ho bad not one hair which was not white upon his body. For my own part, I did not worry much about our situation, but I looked '"after our horses who were in much need of rest and green fodder. For the rest wo drank the wine of the country and passed the .time as best we might. There was a lady at Santarem—but my lips aresealed. It is the part of a gallant man to say nothing, though he may indicate that he could say a great deal. One day Massena sent for me and I oand him in his tent with a great plan pinned upon the table. He looked at me in silence with that single piercing eye of his, and I felt by his expression that the matter was serious. Ha was nervous and ill at ease, but my bearing seemed to reassure him. It is good to be in contact with brave men.

“Colonel Etienne Gerard,” said he, “I have always heard that you are a very gallant and enterprising officer.” It was not for me to confirm such a jport, and yet it would be folly to deny ft, so 1 clinked my spurs together and saluted. “You are also an excellent rider." I admitted it. “ And tho best swordsman in the six brigades of light cavalry.” Massena was famous for the accuracy of his information.

“Now,” said he, “if you will look at this plan you will have no difficulty in understanding what it is that 1 wish you to do. These are the lines of Torres Vedras. You will perceive that they cover a vast space, and you will realise that the English can only hold a position here and there. Once through the lines you ha ve twenty-five miles of open country, which lies between them and Lisbon. It is very important *to me to learn how Wellington’s troops are distributed throughout that space, and it is my wish that you should go and ascertain.” His words turned me cold.

“Sir,” said I, “it is impossible that a colonel of Light Cavalry should condescend to act as a spy.” Ho laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

“ You would not bo a hussar if you were not a hothead,” said he, “If you will listen you will understand that I have not asked you to act as a spy. What do you think of that horse ?” Ho had conducted me to the opening of his tent, and there was a chasseur who led up and down a most admirable creature. He was a dapple grey, not very tall, a little over fifteen hands, perhaps, but with the short head and splendid arch of the neck which comes from the Arab blood. His shoulders and haunches were so muscular, and yet his legs no fine, that it thrilled me with joy just to gaze upon him. A fine horse or beautiful woman, I cannot look at them unmoved, even now when seventy winters have chilled my blood. You can think how it was in the vear ’lO.

“This,” said Massena, “is Voltigeur. the swiftest horse in our armjt. What 1 desire is that you should stait to-night, tide round the line? upon the flank, make your way across the enemy’s rear, and return upon tho other flank bringing me nows of his dispositions. You will wear a uniform, and will therefore, if captured, be safe from the death of a spy. It is probable that you will get through the tines unchallenged, for the posts are very scattered. Once through in daylight you can outride anything which you meet, and if you keep of the roads you may escape entirely unnoticed. If you have not reported yonrs-lf by to-morrow night I will understand that you are taken, and I will offer Colonel Petrie in exchange.”

Ah, how rny heart swelled with pride and joy as I sprang into the saddle and galloped this grand horse up and down t« show the Marshal the mast»rv which I had of him i He was magnificent—we •era I*-/- magnificent, for Massons clapped his hands and cried out, in his delight. It was not I, but he, who said that a gallant beast deserves a gallant rider. Then when for the third time, with my panache flying and my dolman streaming behind me, I thundered past him I saw upon his hard old fico that he had no longer any doubt that he had chosen the man for his purpose. I drew ■av sabre, raised the hilt to my lips in - and galloped on to my Quarters.

Already the nows had spread that I had been chosen for a mission, and my little rascals came swarming out of their tents to cheer me. Ah ! it brings the tears to my old eyes when I think, how proud they were of their ColonoL And X was proud of them also. They deserved a dashing leader. The night promised to be a stormy one, which was very much to my liking. It was my desire to keep my departure most s“oret, for it was evident that if the English heard that I had been detached from the army they would naturally conclude that something important was about to happen. My horse was taken, therefore, beyond the picket if for watering, anil I followed and mounted him there. I had a map, a compass, and a paper of instructions from the Marshal, and with these in the bosom of my tunic and my sabre at my side I set out upon my adventure.

A thin rain was falling, and there was no moon, so you may imagine that it was not very cheerful. But my heart was light at the thought of the honor which had been done me and the glory which awaited me. This exploit should bo one more in that brilliant series which was to change my sabre into a baton. Ah, how we dreamed, wo foolish fellows, young and drunk with success ! Could I have foreseen that night as I rode, the chosen man of sixty thousand, that I should spend my life planting cabbages on a hundred francs a month ! Oh, my youth, my hopes, my comrades! But the wheel turns and never stops. Forgive me, my friends, for an old man has his weakness.

My route then lay across the face of the high ground of Torres Vedras, then over a streamlet past a farmhouse which, had boon burned down and was now only a landmark, then through a forest of young cork oaks, and so to the monastery of San Antonio, which marked the left of the English position. Here I turned south and rode quietly over the downs, for it was at this point that Massena thought that it would be moat easy for me to find my way unobserved through the position. I went very slowly, for it was so dark 1 could not see my hand in front of me. In cases I leave my bridle loose and let my horse pick its own way. A'oltigeur went confidently forward, and I was very content to sit upon bis back and to peer about me, avoiding every light. For three hours wo advanced in this cautious way until it seemed to mo that 1 must have left all danger behind me I then pushed on more briskly, for I wished to be in the rear of the whole army by daybreak. There are many vineyards in these parts which in winter become open plains, and a horseman finds new difficulties in his way.

But Massena had underrated the cunning of these English, for it appears that there was not <>ne lino of defence, but three, and it was the third, which was the most formidable, through which I was at that instant passing. As I rode, elated at my own success, a lantern flashed suddenly before me, and I saw the glint of polished gun barrels and the gleam of a red coat. “Who goes there?” cried a voice—such a voice ! I swerved to the right and rode like a madman, but a dozen squirts of fire came out ..f the darkness, and the bullets whizzed all round my cars. That was no new sound to me, my friends, though I will not talk like a foolish conscript aud say that I have over liked it. But at least it had never kept me from thinking clearly, and so I knew that there was nothing for it but to gallop hard and try my luck elsewhere. I rode round the English picket, and then as I heard nothing more of them I concluded rightly that I had at last come through their defences. For five miles I rode south, striking a tinder from time to time to look at my pocket compass. And then in an instant—l feel the pang once more as my memory brings hack the moment—my horse without a sob or stagger fell stone dead beneath me.

I had never known it, but one of the bullets from th it infernal picket had pas.-ed through his body. The gallant creature had never winced or weakened, but had gone while life was in him. One instant I was secure on the swiftest, most graceful horse in Massena’s army. The next he lay upon his side, worth only the price aDf his hide, and I stood there the ruo-t helpless, most ungainly of creatures, a dismounted hussar. What could Ido with my boots, my spurs, my trailing sabre? I was far inside the enemy’s lines. How could I hope to get back again. lam not ashamed to say that I, Etienne Oerard, sat upon my dead horse and sank my face in my hands in my despair. Already the first streaks were whitening the East. In half an hour it would be light. That I should have won my way past every obstacle and then at this last instant be left, at the mercy of ray enemies, my mission ruined and myself a prisoner—was it not enough to break a soldier’s heart! But courage, my friends ! We have these moments of weakness, the bravest of us, but I have a spirit like a slip of steel, for the more you bend it the higher it springs. One Bjiasm of despair, and then a brain of ice and a heart of fire. Ali was not yet Inst I who had come through so many hazards would come through this one also. I rose from my horse and considered what had best bo done. And first of all it was certain that I could not got back. Long before I could pass the lines it would be broad daylight I must conceal myself for the day and then devote the next night to my escape I took the saddle, holsters, and bridle from poor Voltigeur, and I concealed them among some bushes so that no one finding him would know that he was a French horse. Then leaving him lying there I wandered on in search of some place where I might lie hid for a day In every direction 1 could see campfires upon the sides of the hills, and already had begun to move around them. I must hide quickly or I was lost.

But where was I to hide ? It was a vineyard in which I found myself, the poles of the vines still standing, but the plants gone. There was no cover there. Besides, I should want some food and water before another night had come. I hurried wildly onwards through the waning darkness, tmsting that chance would be my friend. And I was not disappointed. Chance is a woman, my friends, and she has her eye always upon a gallant hussar. Well, then, as I stumbled through the vineyard, something loomed in front of me, and I came upon a great square house with another low building upon one side of it. Three roads met there, and it was easy to see that this was the posnda, or wine shop. There was no light in the windows, and everything was dark and silent, hut. of course, I knew tba» such comfortable quarters were certainly occupied, and probably by someone of importance. I have learned, however, that the nearer the danger the safer may really be the place, and so I was by no means inclined to trust myself away from this shelter. The low building was evidently the stable, and into this I crept, for the door was unlatched. The place was full of bullocks and sheep, gathered there, no doubt, to be out of the clutches of marauders. A ladder ran up to a loft, and up this I climbed and concealed myself verv snugly among B<>me bales of hay on the' top. This loft had a small open window, and I was able to look down upon the fr- nt of the inn, and also upon the road. There I crouched and wailed to sec what would happen. It was soon evident that I had not been mistaken when I had thought that this might be the quarters of some person of importance. Shortly alter daybreak an English light dragoon arrived with a despatch, and from then onwards the place was in a turmoil, officers continually riding up and-away. Always the samo

name was upon their lips, “ Sir Stapleton' —Sir Stapleton.” It was hard for me to lie there with a dry moustache and watch the groat flagons which were brought out by the’ landlord to these English officers. But it amused me to look at their freshcolored, clean-shaven, careless fac-s, and to wonder what they would think if they knew who was lying so near to them. And then, as I lay and watched, I saw a sight which filled me with surprise. It is incredible the insolence of these English ! What do you suppose Milord Wellington had done when he found that Massena had blockaded him, and that he could not move his arm)'. I might give you many guesses. You might say that he had raged, that ho had despaired, that he had brought his troops together and spoken to them about glory and the fatherland before leading them to one last battle. No, Milord did none of these things. But he sent a fleet ship to England to bring him a number of fox dogs, and he with his officers settled himself down to chase the fox. It is true what I tell yon. Behind the linos of Torres Vedras these mad Englishmen made the fox chaso three days in a week. AVo had heard of it in the camp, and now I was myself to sec that it was true.

For, along the road which I have described, there came these very dogs, thirty or forty of them, white and brown, each with its tail at the same angle, like the bayonets of the old Guard. My faith, but it was a pretty sight ! And behind and amidst them there rode three men with peaked caps and red coats, whom I understood to be the hunters. After them came many horsemen with uniforms of various kind's stringing along the roads in twos and threes, talking together and laughing. They did not seem to bo going above a trot, and it appeared to me that it must indeed be a slow fox which they hoped to catch. However, it was their affair, not mine, and soon they had all passed my window, and were out of sight. I waited and watched ready for any chance which might offer. Presently an officer in a blue uniform not unlike that of our flying artillery, came cantering down the road—an elderly stout man he was, with grey side whiskers. He stopped and began to talk with an orderly officer of dragoons, who waited outside the inn, and it was then that I learned the advantage of the English which had been taught me by Lieutenant Obriant, the descendant of Irish kings. I could hear and understand all that was said. “ Where is the meet ? ” said the officer, and I thought he was hungering for his bifstek. But the other answered him that it was near Altara, so I saw that it was a place of which he spoke. “You are late, Sir George,” said the orderly, “ Yes, I had a court martial. Has Sir Stapleton Cotton gone 1 ” At this moment a window opened, and a handsome young man in a very splendid uniform looked out of it.

“ Hullo, Murray ! ” said he. “ These cursed papers keep me, but I will bo at your heels.” “ Very good, Cotton. lam late already, so I will ride on.”

“ You might order my groom to bring round my horse,” said the young general at the window to the orderly below, while the other went on down the road. The orderly rodo away to some outlying stable, and thou in a few minutes there came a smart English groom with a cockade in his hat, leading by the bridle a horse—and oh, coy friends, vou have never known the perfection to which a horse can attain until you hare seen a first-class English hunter. Ho was' superb, tali, broad, strong, and yet as graceful and agile as a deer. Coal block be was in color, and his neck, and his shoulders, and his quarters, and his fetlocks—how can I describe him all to you ! The sun shone upon him as on polished ebony, and he raised his hoofs in a little playful dance so lightly and prettily, while he tossed his mane and whinnied with impatience. Never have I seen such a mixture of strength and be.auty and grace. I had often wondered how the English hussars had managed to ride over the Chasseurs of the Guards in the affair at Astorga, but I wondered no longer when I saw the English horses.

Thera was a ring for fastening bridles at the door of the inn, and the groom tied the horse there while he entered the.house. In an instant I had seen the chance which fate had brought me. Were I in that saddle I sh mid ho better off than when I started. Even Voltigeur could not compare with this magnificent. To think is to .act with mo. In one instant I was down tho ladder and at the door of the stable. The next I was out and tho bridle was in my hand. I bounded into the saddle. Somebody, the master or the man, shouted wildly behind mo. What cared I for his shouts. I touched the horse with my spurs, and he bounded forward with such a spring that only a rider like myself could have sat him. I gave him his head and let him go—it did not matter to me where, so long as we left this inn far behind us. He thundered away across the vineyards, and in a verv few minutes I had placed miles between myself and my pursuers. They could no longer tell in that wild country in whieh direction I had gone. I knew that I was safe, and so, riding to the ton of a small hill, I drew my pencil and notebook from mv pocket, and proceeded to make plans of those camps which I could see, and to draw the outline of the country. Ho was a dear creature upon whom I sat, but it was not easy to draw upon his hack, for every now and then his two ears would cock, and he would start and quiver with imuaticnce. At first I could not understand this trick of his, hut soon I observed that he only did it when a peculiar noise, yo, yoy, yoy, came from somewhere among the oak woods beneath ua. And then suddenly this strange cry changed intoamost terrible screanr-ng with the frantic blowing of a horn. Instantly ho went mad—this horse. His eyes blazed. His mane bristled. He hounded from the earth and bounded again, twisting and turning in a fren y. My pencil flew one way, and my notebook another. And then as I looked down into the valley an extraordinary sight met my eyes. Tho hunt was streaming down it. Tho fox T could not see, but the dogs were in full cry, their noses down, their tails up, so o'ose together that they might have been one great yellow and white moving carpet. And behind them rode the horsemen—my faith, what a sight! Consider every type which a great army could show. Some in hunting dress but tho most in uniforms, blue dragoons, red dragoons, red-tronsercd hussars, green riflemen, artillerymen, gold-slashed lancers, and most of all red. red, red, for the infantry officers ride as hard as the cavalry. Such a crowd, some well mounted, some ill. but all flving along as best they might, the subaltern as good as ths general, jostling and pu-hing, spurring and driving, with every though' thrown to tho winds save that they should have the blood of this absurd fox. Truly they are an extraordinary people, the English ! But I had little time to watch the hunt or to marvel at these Islanders, for of all those mad creatures the very horse upon which I sat was the maddest. You understand tjjat he was himself a burner, and that the crying of these dogs was to him what the call of a cavalry trumpet in the street yonder would be to me. It thrilled him.. It drove him wild. Ag>dn and again he bounded into tho air, and then seizing the hit between his teeth he plunged down the slope and galloped after the dogs. I swore and tugged and pulled, but 1 was powerless. This English General rode his horse with a so- file only, and the beast had a mouth of iron. It was useless to pull him back. One might as well try to keep a Grenadier fcriEu a win» bottle. I nave it up in

despur, and settling down in tho saddle I pr pcrea for the worst which could b fall. What a creature ho was ! Never hj ive I folt such a horse between my knees. HU great haunches gathered under him With every stride, and he shot forward, ever faster and faster, stretched Ike a greyhound, while tho wind beat in my face and whistled past my oars. I was wearing our undress jacket, a uniform simple and dark in itself—though- some figures give distinction to any uniform—and I had taken tho precaution to remove the long panache from my busby. The result was that amidst the mixture of costumes in the hunt there was no reason why mine ahoul 1 attract attention, or why. these men, whose thoughts were all with the chase, should give any heed to me. Tho idea that a Ereoch officer might to riding with them was too absurd to enter their minds. I laughed as 1 rode, for indeed, amid all the danger, there was something of comic in the situation. I have said that the hunters were very unequally mounted, and so at the end of a few miles, instead of being one body of men like a charging regiment, they were scattered over a considerable space, the better riders well up to the dogs and tho others trailing away behind. Now I was as good a rider as any, and my horse was the bast of them all, and so you can ini igine that it was not long before he carried mo to the front. And when I saw the dogs streaming over the open, and the red-coatod huntsman behold them, and only seven or eight horsemen between us, then it was that the strangest thing of all happened, for I too went mad, I, Etienne Gerard ! lu a moment it came upon me this spirit of sport, this desire to excel, this hatred of the fox. Accursed animal, should he then defy us ! Vile robber, his hour was come ! Ah, it is a great feeling, this feeling of sport, my friends, this desire to trample tho fox under the hoofs of your horse. I have made the fox chase with tho English. I have also, as I may tell you some day, fought tho box-fight with tho Bustler of Bristol. And I say to you that this sport is a wonderful thing—full of interest as well as madness. The further we went the faster galloped my horse, and soon there wore but three men ns near the dogs as I was. All thought of fear of discovery had vanished. My brain throbbed, my blood ran hot, only one thing upon earth seemed worth living for, and that was to overtake this infernal fox. I passed one of the horsemen—a hussar, like myself. There wore only two in rout of mo now, the one in a black coat, the other the blue artilleryman whom 1 had seen at tho inn. His grey whiskers streamed in tho wind, but ho rode magnificently. For a mile or more we kept in this order, and then as wc galloped up a steep slope ay lighter weight brought me to the fruit, I passed them both, and when I reached tho crown I was riling level with tho little hardfaced English huntsman. In front of us wore the dogs, and then a hundred paces beyond them was a brown wisp of a thing, the fox itself, stretched to the utterm >st. The sight of him fired rny blood. “Aha, wo have you, then, assassin 1" I cried, and shouted my encouragement to tho huntsman. I waved ray hand to show him that there was one upon whom ho could roly. And now there were only tho dogs between me and my prey. These dogs, whoso duty it is to point out the game, were now rather a hindrance than a help to us, for it was hard to know bow to piss them. The huntsman felt tho difficulty |as much as I, for ho rode behind them, and could make no progress towards the fox. He was a swift rider, but wanting in ! enterprise. For my part I felt that it j would bo unworthy of the Hussars of Confines if I could not overcome snob a 1 difficulty as this. Was Etienne Gerard to ■be -stopped by a herd of fox-dogs. It was I absurd. I gave a shout and spurred mv 1 hors™, “Hold bird, sir! Hold hard!” j cried the huntsman. Ho was uneasy for ] me, this good old man, but I reassured i him by a wave and a sprite- Tho dogs ! opened in front of me. One or two m y have I een hurt, but what would you have 1 i Tho ego- must be broken for tho omelette. 1 I could hear tho huntsman shouting his I congratulations behind mo. One urern ! effort and tho dogs were all behind mo. j Only the fox was in front.

Ah, the joy and pride of that moment ! To know that I had beaten tho English at their own sport. Here were three hundred all thirsting for the life of this animal, and \ 7 et it was 1 who was about to take it I thought of my comrades of the light cavalry brigade, of my mother, of the Emperor, of France. I had b-mcht honor to each and all. Every instant brought mo nearer to the fox. T1 c moment for action arrived, so I unshcarii* d my sabre. I waved it in the air and the brave English all shouted behind mo. Only then did I understand how difficult, is tins fox chase, for one may cut again and again at the erratum and never strike him once. He is small and turns quickly from a blow. At every cut I heard those shouts of encouragement fr tr. behind me, and they spurred me to yet another effii-t. And then at last, the supreme moment of my triumph arrived. In the very act of turning T caught, him fair with such another bark-handed cut as that with which I ki'led the nide-de camp of the Emperor of Bnssia. H-fl w into two pieces, his head one way and his tail another. I looked bok and waved tho blood-stained sabre in the air For the moment I was exalrerl— superb.

Ah, how I should have loved to have waited to have received the congratulations of those generous onemms. There were fifty of them in a : ght, and not one who wis not waving his hand and shouting. They are not really such a phlegmatic nee, the English. A gallant deed in war or in sport will always warm their hearts. As to the old huntsman he was the nearest to me, and I could see with my own eyes how overcome he was by what he had seen. He was like a man paralysed, his mouth open, his hand with outstretched fingers raised in tho air. For a moment my inclination was to return and to embrace him. But already tho call of dutv was sounding in my ears, and these English in spite of all the fraternity which exists among sportsmen would certainly have made mo prisoner. There was hope for my mission now, and I had done all that I could do. I could seo the lines of Massena’s camp no very great distance off, for, by a lucky chance, tho chase had, taken us in that direction. I turned from tho dead fox, saluted with tny sabre, and galloped away. But, they 7 would not leave me so easily, these gallant huntsman. I was the fox now, and the chase swept bravely over the plain. It was only at the moment when I started for the camp that they could have known that I was a Frenchman, and now tho whole swarm of them were at mv heels. We were within gunshot, of our pickets before they would halt, and then they stood in knots and would not go away, but vhoutsd and w-ved their hands at me. No, I will not fhink 'hat it was in eomity. Ba r her would I fanev that a glow of admiration filled their breas f R, and that their o»e desire was to embrero the stranger who had carried himself sc gallantly and w V. (The End.)

Women and Cigars.—“ Well, Mary, I’m pr.mg 10 smoko those cigars you gave a c last C" roruj-l"-* a ■■ •-

wife. “Ah, you said you would keep them fir ev-r—they w“(» iacrtd!’ "Wrlj, I thought I would, hut the doctor has just told me that I must not smoko tobacco any mere!”

“In time of war,” sn® a porfervid orator in resounding tones, “let us always be fro nd, where the bullets are thickest.” “ Same as' you were!” shouted a boy from the audience. The orator paused, dated with pride at this tribute from a vouthfu! admirer. “ Close to the ammunition waggon!” continued the' box.