Part 16 (1/2)

O'Brien gave me a push, as if to say, ”Here's something that will do,”

and then continued--”And curse the conscription I say too, for I had just married, and now my wife is left to be annoyed by the attention of the _fermier general_. But it can't be helped. _C'est pour la France et pour la gloire_.”

”We shall be too late to get a billet,” replied the other, ”and not a sou have I in my pockets. I doubt if I get up with the main body till they are at Flus.h.i.+ng. By our route, they are at Axel to-day.”

”If we arrive at St. Nicholas we shall do well,” replied O'Brien; ”but I have a little money left, and I'll not see a comrade want a supper or a bed who is going to serve his country. You can repay me when we meet at Flus.h.i.+ng.”

”That I will, with thanks,” replied the Frenchman, ”and so will Jaques, here, if you will trust him.”

”With pleasure,” replied O'Brien, who then entered into along conversation, by which he drew out from the Frenchmen that a party of conscripts had been ordered to Flus.h.i.+ng, and that they had dropped behind the main body. In about an hour we arrived at St. Nicholas, and after some difficulty obtained entrance into a cabaret. ”_Vive la France_!” said O'Brien, going up to the fire, and throwing the snow off his hat. In a short time we were seated to a good supper and very tolerable wine, the hostess sitting down by us, and listening to the true narratives of the real conscripts, and the false one of O'Brien.

After supper the conscript who first addressed us pulled out his printed paper, with the route laid down, and observed that we were two days behind the others. O'Brien read it over, and laid it on the table, at the same time calling for more wine, having already pushed it round very freely. We did not drink much ourselves, but plied them hard, and at last the conscript commenced the whole history of his intended marriage and his disappointment, tearing his hair, and crying now and then.

”Never mind,” interrupted O'Brien, every two or three minutes; ”_buvons un autre coup pour la gloire_!” and thus he continued to make them both drink, until they reeled away to bed, forgetting their printed paper, which O'Brien had some time before slipped away from the table. We also retired to our room, when O'Brien observed to me, ”Peter, this description is as much like me as I am to old Nick; but that's of no consequence, as n.o.body goes willingly as a conscript, and therefore they will never have a doubt but that it is all right. We must be off early to-morrow, while these good people are in bed, and steal a long march upon them. I consider that we are now safe as far as Flus.h.i.+ng.”

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

WHAT OCCURRED AT FLUs.h.i.+NG, AND WHAT OCCURRED WHEN WE GOT OUT OF FLUs.h.i.+NG.

An hour before day-break we started; the snow was thick on the ground, but the sky was clear, and without any difficulty or interruption was pa.s.sed through the towns of Axel and Haist, arrived at Terneuse on the fourth day, and went over to Flus.h.i.+ng in company with about a dozen more stragglers from the main body. As we landed, the guard asked us whether we were conscripts. O'Brien replied that he was, and held out his paper. They took his name, or rather that of the person it belonged to, down in a book, and told him that he must apply to the _etat major_ before three o'clock. We pa.s.sed on, delighted with our success, and then O'Brien pulled out the letter which had been given to him by the woman of the cabaret who had offered to a.s.sist me to escape, when O'Brien pa.s.sed off as a gendarme, and reading the address, demanded his way to the street. We soon found out the house, and entered.

”Conscripts!” said the woman of the house, looking at O'Brien; ”I am billeted full already. It must be a mistake. Where is your order?”

”Read,” said O'Brien, handing her the letter.

She read the letter, and putting it into her neckerchief, desired him to follow her. O'Brien beckoned me to come, and we went into a small room.

”What can I do for you?” said the woman; ”I will do all in my power; but, alas! you will march from here in two or three days.”

”Never mind,” replied O'Brien, ”we will talk the matter over by-and-by, but at present only oblige us by letting us remain in this little room; we do not wish to be seen.”

”_Comment donc_!--you a conscript, and not wish to be seen! Are you, then, intending to desert?”

”Answer me one question; you have read that letter, do you intend to act up to its purport, as your sister requests?”

”As I hope for mercy I will, if I suffer everything. She is a dear sister, and would not write so earnestly if she had not strong reasons.

My house and everything you command are yours--can I say more?”

”What is your name?” inquired O'Brien.

”Louise Eustache; you might have read it on the letter.”

”Are you married?”

”O yes, these six years. My husband is seldom at home; he is a Flus.h.i.+ng pilot. A hard life, harder even that that of a soldier. Who is this lad?”

”He is my brother, who, if I go as a soldier, intends to volunteer as a drummer.”

”_Pauvre enfant! c'est dommage_.”

The cabaret was full of conscripts and other people, so that the hostess had enough to do. At night we were shown by her into a small bedroom, adjoining the room we occupied. ”You are quite alone here: the conscripts are to muster to-morrow, I find, in the _Place d'Armes_, at two o'clock: do you intend to go?”