"It's Boney! So help me, it's Boney!" he yelled.He ran with his hands out to catch me, but luckily for himself his drunken feet stumbled and he fell on his face on the road.The other was more dangerous.He had rushed into the inn, and just as I passed I saw him run out with his musket in his hand.He dropped upon one knee, and I stooped forward over my horse's neck.
A single shot from a Prussian or an Austrian is a small matter, but the British were at that time the best shots in Europe, and my drunkard seemed steady enough when he had a gun at his shoulder.I heard the crack, and my horse gave a convulsive spring which would have unseated many a rider.For an instant I thought he was killed, but when I turned in my saddle I saw a stream of blood running down the off hind-quarter.I looked back at the Englishman, and the brute had bitten the end off another cartridge and was ramming it into his musket, but before he had it primed we were beyond his range.These men were foot-soldiers and could not join in the chase, but I heard them whooping and tally-hoing behind me as if I had been a fox.The peasants also shouted and ran through the fields flourishing their sticks.From all sides I heard cries, and everywhere were the rushing, waving figures of my pursuers.To think of the great Emperor being chivvied over the country-side in this fashion! It made me long to have these rascals within the sweep of my sword.
But now I felt that I was nearing the end of my course.I had done all that a man could be expected to do--some would say more--but at last I had come to a point from which I could see no escape.The horses of my pursuers were exhausted, but mine was exhausted and wounded also.It was losing blood fast, and we left a red trail upon the white, dusty road.Already his pace was slackening, and sooner or later he must drop under me.I looked back, and there were the five inevitable Prussians--Stein a hundred yards in front, then a Lancer, and then three others riding together.
Stein had drawn his sword, and he waved it at me.For my own part I was determined not to give myself up.
I would try how many of these Prussians I could take with me into the other world.At this supreme moment all the great deeds of my life rose in a vision before me, and I felt that this, my last exploit, was indeed a worthy close to such a career.My death would be a fatal blow to those who loved me, to my dear mother, to my Hussars, to others who shall be nameless.But all of them had my honour and my fame at heart, and I felt that their grief would be tinged with pride when they learned how I had ridden and how I had fought upon this last day.Therefore I hardened my heart and, as my Arab limped more and more upon his wounded leg, I drew the great sword which I had taken from the Cuirassier, and I set my teeth for my supreme struggle.My hand was in the very act of tightening the bridle, for I feared that if I delayed longer I might find myself on foot fighting against five mounted men.
At that instant my eye fell upon something which brought hope to my heart and a shout of joy to my lips.
From a grove of trees in front of me there projected the steeple of a village church.But there could not be two steeples like that, for the corner of it had crumbled away or been struck by lightning, so that it was of a most fantastic shape.I had seen it only two daye{sic} before, and it was the church of the village of Gosselies.It was not the hope of reaching the village which set my heart singing with joy, but it was that I knew my ground now, and that farm-house not half a mile ahead, with its gable end sticking out from amid the trees, must be that very farm of St.Aunay where we had bivouacked, and which I had named to Captain Sabbatier as the rendezvous of the Hussars of Conflans.There they were, my little rascals, if I could but reach them.With every bound my horse grew weaker.Each instant the sound of the pursuit grew louder.I heard a gust of crackling German oaths at my very heels.A pistol bullet sighed in my ears.Spurring frantically and beating my poor Arab with the flat of my sword I kept him at the top of his speed.The open gate of the farm-yard lay before me.I saw the twinkle of steel within.Stein's horse's head was within ten yards of me as I thundered through.
"To me, comrades! To me!" I yelled.I heard a buzz as when the angry bees swarm from their nest.Then my splendid white Arab felldead under me and I was hurled on to the cobble-stones of the yard, where I can remember no more.
Such was my last and most famous exploit, my dear friends, a story which rang through Europe and has made the name of Etienne Gerard famous in history.
Alas! that all my efforts could only give the Emperor a few weeks more liberty, since he surrendered upon the 15th of July to the English.But it was not my fault that he was not able to collect the forces still waiting for him in France, and to fight another Waterloo with a happier ending.Had others been as loyal as I was the history of the world might have been changed, the Emperor would have preserved his throne, and such a soldier as I would not have been left to spend his life in planting cabbages or to while away his old age telling stories in a cafe.You ask me about the fate of Stein and the Prussian horsemen! Of the three who dropped upon the way I know nothing.One you will remember that I killed.There remained five, three of whom were cut down by my Hussars, who, for the instant, were under the impression that it was indeed the Emperor whom they were defending.Stein was taken, slightly wounded, and so was one of the Uhlans.The truth was not told to them, for we thought it best that no news, or false news, should get about as to where the Emperor was, so that Count Stein still believed that he was within a few yards of making that tremendous capture."You may well love and honour your Emperor," said he, "for such a horseman and such a swordsman I have never seen." He could not understand why the young colonel of Hussars laughed so heartily at his words--but he has learned since.
