第57章 How the Brigadier Bore Himself at Waterloo(13)

For a moment we each stared at the other.Then I shut the door and locked it again.A crash and a cry came from the other end of the garden.I understood that one of my enemies had come to grief in trying to get over the pig-sty.How could I ever get out of this cul-de-sac? It was evident that some of the party had galloped round, while some had followed straight upon my tracks.Had I my sword I might have beaten off the Lancer at the door, but to come out now was to be butchered.And yet if I waited some of them would certainly follow me on foot over the pig-sty, and what could I do then? I must act at once or I was lost.But it is at such moments that my wits are most active and my actions most prompt.Still leading my horse, I ran for a hundred yards by the side of the wall away from the spot where the Lancer was watching.There I stopped, and with an effort I tumbled down several of the loose stones from the top of the wall.The instant I had done so I hurried back to the door.As I had expected, he thought I was making a gap for my escape at that point, and I heard the thud of his horse's hoofs as he galloped to cutme off.As I reached the gate I looked back, and I saw a green-coated horseman, whom I knew to be Count Stein, clear the pig-sty and gallop furiously with a shout of triumph across the garden.

"Surrender, your Majesty, surrender!" he yelled; "we will give you quarter!" I slipped through the gate, but had no time to lock it on the other side.Stein was at my very heels, and the Lancer had already turned his horse.Springing upon my Arab's back, I was off once more with a clear stretch of grass land before me.Stein had to dismount to open the gate, to lead his horse through, and to mount again before he could follow.

It was he that I feared rather than the Lancer, whose horse was coarse- bred and weary.I galloped hard for a mile before I ventured to look back, and then Stein was a musket-shot from me, and the Lancer as much again, while only three of the others were in sight.My nine Prussians were coming down to more manageable numbers, and yet one was too much for an unarmed man.

It had surprised me that during this long chase I had seen no fugitives from the army, but I reflected that I was considerably to the west of their line of flight, and that I must edge more toward the east if I wished to join them.Unless I did so it was probable that my pursuers, even if they could not overtake me themselves, would keep me in view until I was headed off by some of their comrades coming from the north.As I looked to the eastward I saw afar off a line of dust which stretched for miles across the country.This was certainly the main road along which our unhappy army was flying.But I soon had proof that some of our stragglers had wandered into these side tracks, for I came suddenly upon a horse grazing at the corner of a field, and beside him, with his back against the bank, his master, a French Cuirassier, terribly wounded and evidently on the point of death.I sprang down, seized his long, heavy sword, and rode on with it.Never shall I forget the poor man's face as he looked at me with his failing sight.He was an old, grey-moustached soldier, one of the real fanatics, and to him this last vision of his Emperor was like a revelation from on high.

Astonishment, love, pride--all shone in his pallid face.He said something--I fear they were his last words --but I had no time to listen,and I galloped on my way.

All this time I had been on the meadow-land, which was intersected in this part by broad ditches.Some of them could not have been less than from fourteen to fifteen feet, and my heart was in my mouth as I went at each of them, for a slip would have been my ruin.

But whoever selected the Emperor's horses had done his work well.The creature, save when it balked on the bank of the Sambre, never failed me for an instant.

We cleared everything in one stride.And yet we could not shake off! those infernal Prussians.As I left each water-course behind me I looked back with renewed hope; but it was only to see Stein on his white-legged chestnut flying over it as lightly as I had done myself.He was my enemy, but I honoured him for the way in which he carried himself that day.

Again and again I measured the distance which separated him from the next horseman.I had the idea that I might turn and cut him down, as I had the Hussar, before his comrade could come to his help.But the others had closed up and ere not far behind.I reflected that this Stein was probably as fine a swordsman as he was a rider, and that it might take me some little time to get the better of him.In that case the others would come to his aid an I should be lost.On the whole, it was wiser to continue my flight.

A road with poplars on either side ran across the plain from east to west.It would lead me toward that long line of dust which marked the French retreat.I wheeled my horse, therefore, and galloped down it.As I rode I saw a single house in front of me upon the right, with a great bush hung over the door to mark it as an inn.Outside there were several peasants, but for them I cared nothing.What frightened me was to see the gleam of a red coat, which showed that there were British in the place.However, I could not turn and I could not stop, so there was nothing for it but to gallop on and to take my chance.There were no troops in sight, so these men must be stragglers or marauders, from whom I had little to fear.As I approached I saw that there were two of them sitting drinking on a bench outside the inn door.I saw them stagger to their feet, and it was evident that they were both very drunk.One stood swaying in the middleof the road.