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第55章 How the Brigadier Bore Himself at Waterloo(11)

His kick is soon forgotten and forgiven.I would not argue or justify myself.At the first glance I had seen the two white stockings on the forelegs of the leading horse, and I knew well that Count Stein was on its back.

For an instant the nine horsemen had halted and surveyed us.Now they put spurs to their horses, and with a yell of triumph they galloped down the road.They had recognised that their prey was in their power.

At that swift advance all doubt had vanished."By heavens, Sire, it is indeed the Prussians!" cried Soult.

Lobau and Bertrand ran about the road like two frightened hens.The sergeant of Chasseurs drew his sabre with a volley of curses.The coachman and the valet cried and wrung their hands.Napoleon stood with a frozen face, one foot on the step of the carriage.And I--ah, my friends, I was magnificent! What words can I use to do justice to my own bearing at that supreme instant of my life? So coldly alert, so deadly cool, so clear in brain and ready in hand.He had called me a numskull and a buffoon.How quick and how noble was my revenge! When his own wits failed him, it was Etienne Gerard who supplied the want.

To fight was absurd; to fly was ridiculous.The Emperor was stout, and weary to death.At the best he was never a good rider.How could he fly from these, the picked men of an army? The best horseman in Prussia was among them.But I was the best horseman in France.I, and only I, could hold my own with them.If they were on my track instead of the Emperor's, all might still be well.These were the thoughts which flashed so swiftly through my mind that in an instant I had sprung from the first idea to the final conclusion.Another instant carried me from thefinal conclusion to prompt and vigorous action.I rushed to the side of the Emperor, who stood petrified, with the carriage between him and our enemies."Your coat, Sire! your hat!" I cried.I dragged them of him.

Never had he been so hustled in his life.In an instant I had them on and had thrust him into the carriage.The next I had sprung on to his famous white Arab and had ridden clear of the group upon the road.

You have already divined my plan; but you may well ask how could I hope to pass myself off as the Emperor.

My figure is as you still see it, and his was never beautiful, for he was both short and stout.But a man's height is not remarked when he is in the saddle, and for the rest one had but to sit forward on the horse and round one's back and carry oneself like a sack of flour.I wore the little cocked hat and the loose grey coat with the silver star which was known to every child from one end of Europe to the other.Beneath me was the Emperor's own famous white charger.It was complete.

Already as I rode clear the Prussians were within two hundred yards of us.I made a gesture of terror and despair with my hands, and I sprang my horse over the bank which lined the road.It was enough.A yell of exultation and of furious hatred broke from the Prussians.

It was the howl of starving wolves who scent their prey.I spurred my horse over the meadow-land and looked back under my arm as I rode.Oh, the glorious moment when one after the other I saw eight horsemen come over the bank at my heels! Only one had stayed behind, and I heard shouting and the sounds of a struggle.I remembered my old sergeant of Chasseurs, and I was sure that number nine would trouble us no more.The road was clear and the Emperor free to continue his journey.

But now I had to think of myself.If I were overtaken the Prussians would certainly make short work of me in their disappointment.If it were so--if I lost my life--I should still have sold it at a glorious price.But I had hopes that I might shake them off.With ordinary horsemen upon ordinary horses I should have had no difficulty in doing so, but here both steeds and riders were of the best.It was a grand creature that I rode, but it was weary with its long night's work, and the Emperor was oneof those riders who do not know how to manage a horse.He had little thought far them and a heavy hand upon their mouths.On the other hand, Stein and his men had come both far and fast.The race was a fair one.

So quick had been my impulse, and so rapidly had I acted upon it, that I had not thought enough of my own safety.Had I done so in the first instance I should, of course, have ridden straight back the way we had come, for so I should have met our own people.But I was off the road and had galloped a mile over the plain before this occurred to me.Then when I looked back I saw that the Prussians had spread out into a long line, so as to head me off from the Charleroi road.I could not turn back, but at least I could edge toward the north.I knew that the whole face of the country was covered with our flying troops, and that sooner or later I must come upon some of them.

But one thing I had forgotten--the Sambre.In my excitement I never gave it a thought until I saw it, deep and broad, gleaming in the morning sunlight.It barred my path, and the Prussians howled behind me.I galloped to the brink, but the horse refused the plunge.I spurred him, but the bank was high and the stream deep.

He shrank back trembling and snorting.The yells of triumph were louder every instant.I turned and rode for my life down the river bank.It formed a loop at this part, and I must get across somehow, for my retreat was blocked.Suddenly a thrill of hope ran through me, for I saw a house on my side of the stream and another on the farther bank.Where there are two such houses it usually means that there is a ford between them.A sloping path led to the brink and I urged my horse down it.On he went, the water up to the saddle, the foam flying right and left.He blundered once and I thought we were lost, but he recovered and an instant later was clattering up the farther slope.As we came out I heard the splash behind me as the first Prussian took the water.There was just the breadth of the Sambre between us.

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