Part 22 (1/2)

What was worst of all, at the moment when our cannon at the a.r.s.enal and powder-house began to answer the Russians', and made every pane of gla.s.s in the old building rattle, Sergeant Monborne called out: ”Somme, Chevreux, Moses, Dubourg: Forward!”

To send fathers of families roaming about through the mud, in danger, at every step, of being struck by bursting sh.e.l.ls, tiles, and whole chimneys falling on their backs, is something against nature; the very mention of it makes me perfectly furious.

Somme and the big innkeeper Chevreux turned round, full of indignation also; they wanted to exclaim: ”It is abominable!”

But that rascal of a Monborne was sergeant, and n.o.body dared speak a word or even give a side-look; and as Winter, the corporal of the round, had taken down his musket, and made a signal for us to go on, we all took our arms and followed him.

As we went down the stairway, you should have seen the red light, flash after flash, lighting up every nook and corner under the stairs and the worm-eaten rafters; you should have heard our twenty-four pounders thunder; the old rat-hole shook to its foundations, and seemed as if it was all falling to pieces. And under the arch below, toward the Place d'Armes, this light shone from the snow banks to the tops of the roofs, showing the glittering pavements, the puddles of water, the chimneys, and dormer-windows, and, at the very end of the street, the cavalry barracks, even the sentry in his box near the large gate:--what a sight!

”It is all over! We are all lost!” I thought.

Two sh.e.l.ls pa.s.sed at this moment over the city: they were the first that I had seen; they moved so slowly that I could follow them through the dark sky; both fell in the trenches, behind the hospital. The charge was too heavy, luckily for us.

I did not speak, nor did the others--we kept our thoughts to ourselves.

We heard the calls ”Sentries, attention!” answered from one bastion to another all around the place, warning us of the terrible danger we were in.

Corporal Winter, with his old faded blouse, coa.r.s.e cotton cap, stooping shoulders, musket in shoulder-belt, pipe-end between his teeth, and lantern full of tallow swinging at arm's length, walked before us, calling out: ”Look out for the sh.e.l.ls! Lie flat! Do you hear?”

I have always thought that veterans of this sort despise citizens, and that he said this to frighten us still more.

A little farther on, at the entrance of the cul-de-sac where Cloutier lived, he halted.

”Come on!” he called, for we marched in file without seeing each other.

When we had come up to him he said, ”There, now, you men, try to keep together! Our patrol is to prevent fire from breaking out anywhere; as soon as we see a sh.e.l.l pa.s.s, Moses will run up and s.n.a.t.c.h the fuse.”

He burst into a laugh as he spoke, so that my anger was roused.

”I have not come here to be laughed at,” said I; ”if you take me for a fool, I will throw down my musket and cartridge-box, and go to the casemates.”

He laughed harder than ever. ”Moses, respect thy superiors, or beware of the court-martial!” said he.

The others would have laughed too, but the sh.e.l.l-flashes began again; they went down the rampart street, driving the air before them like gusts of wind; the cannon of the a.r.s.enal bastion had just fired. At the same time a sh.e.l.l burst in the street of the Capuchins; Spick's chimney and half his roof fell to the ground with a frightful noise.

”Forward! March!” called Winter.

They had now all become sober. We followed the lantern to the French gate. Behind us, in the street of the Capuchins, a dog howled incessantly. Now and then Winter stopped, and we all listened; nothing was stirring, and nothing was to be heard but the dog and the cries: ”Sentries, attention!” The city was as still as death.

We ought to have gone into the guard-house, for there was nothing to be seen; but the lantern went on toward the gate, swinging above the gutter. That Winter had taken too much brandy!

”We are of no use in this street,” said Cheyreux; ”we can't keep the b.a.l.l.s from pa.s.sing.”

But Winter kept calling out: ”Are you coming?” And we had to obey.

In front of Genodet's stables, where the old barns of the gendarmerie begin, a lane turned to the left toward the hospital. This was full of manure and heaps of dirt--a drain in fact. Well, this rascal of a Winter turned into it, and as we could not see our feet without the lantern, we had to follow him. We went groping, under the roofs of the sheds, along the crazy old walls. It seemed as if we should never get out of this gutter; but at last we came out near the hospital in the midst of the great piles of manure, which were heaped against the grating of the sewer.

It seemed a little lighter, and we saw the roof of the French gate, and the line of fortifications black against the sky; and almost immediately I perceived the figure of a man gliding among the trees at the top of the rampart. It was a soldier stooping so that his hands almost touched the ground. They did not fire on this side; the distant flashes pa.s.sed over the roofs, and did not lighten the streets below.

I caught Winter's arm, and pointed out to him this man; he instantly hid his lantern under his blouse. The soldier whose back was toward us, stood up, and looked round, apparently listening. This lasted for two or three minutes; then he pa.s.sed over the rampart at the corner of the bastion, and we heard something sc.r.a.pe the wall of the rampart.

Winter immediately began to run, crying out: ”A deserter! To the postern!”