Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune. Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ was heard, and with it a sharp, shrill cry of agony, and all was hushed.

      ‘Let’s at them, boys: they can’t be much above our own number. The island is a mere rock,’ cried I to my comrades.

      ‘Who commands this party,’ said the corporal – ‘you or I?’

      ‘You, if you lead us against the enemy,’ said I; ‘but I’ll take it if my comrades will follow me. There goes another shot, lads – yes or no – now is the time to speak.’

      ‘We’re ready,’ cried three, springing forward with one impulse.

      At the instant I jumped into the skiff, the others took their places, and then come a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh, leaving the corporal alone on the bank.

      ‘Come along, corporal,’ cried I, ‘we’ll win your epaulettes for you’; but he turned away without a word; and, not waiting further, I pushed out the skiff, and sent her skimming down the stream.

      ‘Pull steady, boys, and silently,’ said I; ‘we must gain the middle of the current, and then drop down the river without the least noise. Once beneath the trees, we’ll give them a volley, and then the bayonet. Remember, lads, no flinching; it’s as well to die here as be shot by old Régnier to-morrow.’

      The conflict on the Eslar island was now, to all seeming, at its height. The roll of musketry was incessant, and sheets of flame, from time to time, streaked the darkness above the river.

      ‘Stronger and together, boys – once more – there it is – we are in the current now; in with you, men, and look to your carbines; see that the priming is safe; every shot soon will be worth a fusillade. Lie still now, and wait for the word to fire.’

      The spreading foliage of the nut-trees was rustling over our heads as I spoke, and the sharp skiff, borne on the current, glided smoothly on till her bow struck the rock. With high-beating hearts we clambered up the little cliff, and, as we reached the top, beheld immediately beneath us, in a slight dip of the ground, several figures around a gun, which they were busy adjusting. I looked right and left to see that my little party were all assembled, and without waiting for more, gave the order – fire!

      We were within pistol range, and the discharge was a deadly one. The terror, however, was not less complete; for all who escaped death fled from the spot, and dashing through the brushwood, made for the shallow part of the stream, between the island and the right bank.

      Our prize was a brass eight-pounder, and an ample supply of ammunition. The gun was pointed towards the middle of the stream, where the current being strongest, the boats would necessarily be delayed; and in all likelihood some of our gallant comrades had already experienced its fatal fire. To wheel it right about, and point it on the Eslar bridge, was the work of a couple of minutes; and while three of our little party kept up a steady fire on the retreating enemy, the others loaded the gun and prepared to fire.

      Our distance from the Eslar island and bridge, as well as I could judge from the darkness, might be about two hundred and fifty yards, and, as we had the advantage of a slight elevation of ground, our position was admirable.

      ‘Wait patiently, lads,’ said I, restraining, with difficulty, the burning ardour of my men. ‘Wait patiently, till the retreat has commenced over the bridge. The work is too hot to last much longer on the island; to fire upon them there would be to risk our own men as much as the enemy. See what long flashes of flame break forth among the brushwood; and listen to the cheering now. That was a French cheer! – and there goes another. Look! – look, the bridge is darkening already! That was a bugle-call, and they are in full retreat. Now, lads – now!’

      As I spoke, the gun exploded, and the instant after we heard the crashing rattle of the timber, as the shot struck the bridge, and splintered the wood-work in all directions.

      ‘The range is perfect, lads,’ cried I. ‘Load and fire with all speed.’

      Another shot, followed by a terrific scream from the bridge, told how the work was doing. Oh! the savage exultation, the fiendish joy of my heart, as I drank in that cry of agony, and called upon my men to load faster.

      Six shots were poured in with tremendous precision and effect, and the seventh tore away one of the main supports of the bridge, and down went the densely crowded column into the Rhine. At the same instant the guns of our launches opened a destructive fire upon the banks, which soon were swept clean of the enemy.

      High up on the stream, and for nearly a mile below also, we could see the boats of our army pulling in for shore; the crossing of the Rhine had been effected, and we now prepared to follow.

      CHAPTER XII. ‘A GLANCE AT STAFF-DUTY’

      Although the passage of the Rhine was but the prelude to the attack on the fortress, that exploit being accomplished, Kehl was carried at the point of the bayonet, the French troops entering the outworks pell-mell with the retreating enemy, and in less than two hours after the landing of our first detachments, the tricolour waved over the walls of the fortress.

      Lost amid the greater and more important successes which since that time have immortalised the glory of the French arms, it is almost impossible to credit the celebrity attached at that time to this brilliant achievement, whose highest merits probably were rapidity and resolution. Moreau had long been jealous of the fame of his great rival, Bonaparte, whose tactics, rejecting the colder dictates of prudent strategy, and the slow progress of scientific manouvres, seemed to place all his confidence in the sudden inspirations of his genius, and the indomitable bravery of his troops. It was necessary, then, to raise the morale of the army of the Rhine, to accomplish some great feat similar in boldness and heroism to the wonderful achievements of the Italian army. Such was the passage of the Rhine at Strasbourg, effected in the face of a great enemy, advantageously posted, and supported by one of the strongest of all the frontier fortresses.

      The morning broke upon us in all the exultation of our triumph, and as our cheers rose high over the field of the late struggle, each heart beat proudly with the thought of how that news would be received in Paris.

      ‘You ‘ll see how the bulletin will spoil all,’ said a young officer of the army of Italy, as he was getting his wound dressed on the field. ‘There will be such a long narrative of irrelevant matter – such details of this, that, and t’ other – that the public will scarce know whether the placard announces a defeat or a victory.’

      ‘Parbleu!’ replied an old veteran of the Rhine army, ‘what would you have? You’d not desire to omit the military facts of such an exploit?’

      ‘To be sure I would,’ rejoined the other. ‘Give me one of our young general’s bulletins, short, stirring, and effective: – “Soldiers! you have crossed the Rhine against an army double your own in numbers and munitions of war. You have carried a fortress, believed impregnable, at the bayonet. Already the great flag of our nation waves over the citadel you have won. Forward, then, and cease not till it floats over the cities of conquered Germany, and let the name of France be that of Empire over the continent of Europe.’”

      ‘Ha! I like that, cried I enthusiastically; ‘that’s the bulletin to my fancy. Repeat it once more, mon lieutenant, that I may write it in my note-book.’

      ‘What! hast thou a note-book?’ cried an old staff-officer, who was preparing to mount his horse; ‘let’s see it, lad.’

      With a burning cheek and trembling hand I drew my little journal from the breast of my jacket, and gave it to him.

      ‘Sacrebleu!’ exclaimed he, in a burst of СКАЧАТЬ