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diff --git a/old/43730-h/43730-h.htm b/old/43730-h/43730-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 2693d56..0000000 --- a/old/43730-h/43730-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1969 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html -PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> -<title> -A Thousand Francs Reward., by Emile Gaboriau. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - <!-- - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - --> -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Thousand Francs Reward, by Emile Gaboriau - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: A Thousand Francs Reward -and, Military Sketches - -Author: Emile Gaboriau - -Translator: Laura E. Kendall - -Release Date: September 15, 2013 [EBook #43730] -Last Updated: September 24, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A THOUSAND FRANCS REWARD *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - -<div style="height: 8em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h1> -A THOUSAND FRANCS REWARD. -</h1> -<h2> -By Emile Gaboriau. -</h2> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<h3> -Translated by Laura E. Kendall. -</h3> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<p> -<b>CONTENTS</b> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>A THOUSAND FRANCS REWARD.</b> </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. </a> -</p> -<p> -<br /> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0007"> <b>MILITARY SKETCHES.</b> </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE CANTINIERE. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE BARBER OF THE SQUADRON. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE VAGUEMESTRE. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE ZOUAVE. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE FANTASSIN, OR FOOT-SOLDIER. </a> -</p> -<p class="toc"> -<a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE SOLDIER OF THE LIGHT INFANTRY; </a> -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -A THOUSAND FRANCS REWARD. -</h2> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -I. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t’s a very short time ago, yesterday as it were, that one Sunday -afternoon about four o’clock, the whole Quartier du Marais was in an -uproar. -</p> -<p> -Rumor asserted that one of the most respectable merchants in the Hue -Boi-de-Sicile had disappeared, and all efforts to find him continued -fruitless. -</p> -<p> -The strange event was discussed in all the shops in the neighborhood; -there were groups at the doors of all the fruit-sellers, every moment some -terrified housewife arrived, bringing fresh particulars. -</p> -<p> -The grocer on the corner had the best and latest news, the most reliable, -too, for he received his information from the lips of the cook who lived -in the house. -</p> -<p> -“So,” said he, “yesterday evening, after dinner, our neighbor, Monsieur -Jandidier, went down to his cellar to get a bottle of wine, and was never -seen again. He disappeared, vanished, evaporated!” - </p> -<p> -It occasionally happens that mysterious disappearances are mentioned. The -public becomes excited, and prudent people buy sword-canes. -</p> -<p> -Policemen hear absurd reports, and shrug their shoulders. They know the -wrong side of the carefully embroidered canvas. They investigate, and -find, instead of artless falsehoods, the truth; instead of romances, -sorrowful stories. Yet, up to a certain point, the grocer of the Rue -Saint Louis told the truth. -</p> -<p> -M. Jandidier, manufacturer of imitation jewelry, had not been at home for -the last twenty-four hours. -</p> -<p> -M. Theodore Jandidier was a man fifty-eight years old, very stout and very -bald, who had made a large fortune in business. He was supposed to have a -considerable income from stocks and bonds, and his business brought him -annually, on an average, fifty thousand francs. He was beloved and -respected in his neighborhood, and justly so; his honesty was above -suspicion, his morality rigid. Married late in life to a penniless -relative, he had made her perfectly happy. He had an only daughter, a -pretty, graceful girl, named Thérèse, whom he worshiped. She had been -engaged to the eldest son of Schmidt the banker—member of the firm -Schmidt, Gubenheim & Worb—M. Gustave; but the match was broken -off, nobody knew why, for the young people were desperately in love with -each other. It was said by Jandidier’s acquaintances that Schmidt senior, -a perfect skinflint, had demanded a dowry far beyond the merchant’s means. -</p> -<p> -Notified by public rumor, which hourly exaggerated the story, the -commissary of police went to the home of the man already called “the -victim,” to obtain more exact information. -</p> -<p> -He found Mme. and Mlle. Jandidier in such terrible grief that it was with -great difficulty he gleaned the truth. At last he learned the following -details: -</p> -<p> -The day before, Saturday, M. Jandidier had dined with his family as usual, -though his appetite was not good, owing, he said, to a violent headache. -</p> -<p> -After dinner he went to his stores, gave some orders, and then entered his -office. -</p> -<p> -At half past six he came upstairs again, and told his wife he was going to -walk. -</p> -<p> -And he had not been seen since! -</p> -<p> -After carefully noting these particulars, the commissary requested Mme. -Jandidier to let him speak with her alone a few minutes. She made a sign -of assent, and Mlle. Thérèse left the room. -</p> -<p> -“Pardon the question I am about to ask, madame,” said the police officer. -“Do you know whether your husband—again I beg you to excuse me—had -any ties outside of his own family?” - </p> -<p> -Mme. Jandidier started up; anger dried her tears. -</p> -<p> -“I have been married twenty-three years, monsieur, and my husband has -never returned home later than ten o’clock.” - </p> -<p> -“Was your husband in the habit of going to any club or café, madame?” - continued the officer. -</p> -<p> -“Never; I wouldn’t have allowed it.” - </p> -<p> -“Did he usually carry valuables on his person?” - </p> -<p> -“I don’t know; I attended to my housekeeping and didn’t trouble myself -about business matters.” - </p> -<p> -It was impossible to get anything more from the haughty wife, who was -fairly bewildered by sorrow. -</p> -<p> -Having performed his duty, the commissary thought he ought to give the -poor woman a little commonplace consolation. -</p> -<p> -But on withdrawing, after an examination of the house, he felt very -anxious, and began to suspect that a crime had been committed. -</p> -<p> -That very evening one of the most skillful members of the detective force, -Rétiveau, better known in the Rue de Jerusalem under the name of Maitre -Magloire, was put on M. Jandidier’s track, supplied with an excellent -photograph of the merchant. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -II. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he very day after M. Jandidier’s disappearance, Maitre Magloire appeared -at the Palais de justice to report what he had done to the magistrate in -charge of the affair. -</p> -<p> -“Ah! there you are, Monsieur Magloire,” said the magistrate; “so you’ve -discovered something?” - </p> -<p> -“I am on the trail, monsieur.” - </p> -<p> -“Speak.” - </p> -<p> -“To begin with, Monsieur Jandidier did not leave home at half past six -o’clock, but precisely seven.” - </p> -<p> -“Precisely?” - </p> -<p> -“Precisely. I ascertained that from a clock-maker in the Rue Saint Denis, -who is sure of it, because while passing his shop, Monsieur Jandidier took -out his watch to see if it was exactly like the clock over the door. He -held an unlighted cigar in his mouth. Having discovered this last -circumstance, I said to myself, ‘I have it! He’ll light his cigar -somewhere.’ I reasoned correctly; he went into a retail shop on the -Boulevard du Temple, whose mistress knows him very well. The fact was -impressed on the woman’s memory because he always smoked sou cigars, and -this time bought London ones.” - </p> -<p> -“How did he appear?” - </p> -<p> -“Absent-minded, the shop-keeper told me. It was from her I found out that -he often went to the Café Ture. I entered it, and was told that he had -been there Saturday evening. He took two small glasses of brandy, and -talked with his friends. He seemed dull. ‘The gentleman talked all the -time about life insurance policies,’ the waiter told me. At half past -eight o’clock our man left the with one of his friends, a merchant in the -neighborhood, Monsieur Blandureau. I instantly went to this gentleman, who -informed me that he walked up the boulevard with Monsieur Jandidier, who -left him at the corner of the Rue Richelieu, pleading a business -engagement. He was not in his usual spirits, and seemed to be assailed by -the gloomiest presentiments.” - </p> -<p> -“Very well, so far,” murmured the magistrate. -</p> -<p> -“On leaving Monsieur Blandureau, I went to the Rue Roi-de-Sicile to -ascertain from somebody in the house whether Monsieur Jandidier had any -customers or friends in the Rue Richelieu, but no one lived there except -his tailor. I therefore proceeded hap-hazard to the tailor. He saw our man -Saturday. Monsieur Jandidier called on him after nine o’clock to order a -pair of trousers. While his measure was being taken, he noticed that one -of his vest buttons was nearly off, and asked to have it sewed on. He was -obliged to take off his overcoat while the trifling repair was made, and -as at the same time he removed the contents of the side pocket, the tailor -noticed several hundred-franc bank-bills.” - </p> -<p> -“Ah!” that’s a clew, “He had a considerable sum of money with him?” - </p> -<p> -“Considerable, no; but tolerably large. The tailor estimates it at twelve -or fourteen hundred francs.” - </p> -<p> -“Go on,” said the magistrate. -</p> -<p> -“While his vest was being repaired, Monsieur Jandidier complained of -sudden indisposition, and sent a little boy for a carriage, saying that he -was obliged to go to one of his workmen, who lived a long distance off. -Unfortunately, the lad had forgotten the number of the carriage. He only -recollected that it had yellow wheels, and was drawn by a large black -horse. The vehicle was found. A circular sent to all who kept carriages -for hire, put me on the track. I learned this morning that it was No. -6007. The driver, on being questioned, distinctly remembered having been -stopped Saturday evening, about nine o’clock, in the Rue Richelieu, by a -little boy, and waiting ten minutes in front of the Maison Gouin. The -description he gave of his fare exactly suits our man, and he recognized -the photograph among five different ones I showed him.” - </p> -<p> -Maitre Magloire stopped. He wanted to enjoy the approval visible in the -magistrate’s expression. -</p> -<p> -“Monsieur Jandidier,” he continued, “ordered the driver to take him to No. -48 Rue d’Arras-Saint-Victor. In this house lives a workman named Jules -Tarot, employed by Monsieur Jandidier.” - </p> -<p> -M. Magloire’s way of pronouncing this name was intended to rouse the -magistrate’s attention, and did so. -</p> -<p> -“You have suspicions?” he asked. -</p> -<p> -“Not exactly, but this is the story. Monsieur Jandidier dismissed the -carriage at the Rue d’Arras and went to Tarot’s about ten o’clock. At -eleven the employer and workman came out together. The latter did not -return until midnight, and here I lose all trace of my man. Of course I -didn’t question Tarot, for fear of putting him on his guard.” - </p> -<p> -“Who is this Jules Tarot?” - </p> -<p> -“A workman in mother-of-pearl, a man who polishes shells on a grindstone -to make them perfectly iridescent. He’s a skillful fellow, and, assisted -by his wife, to whom he has taught his trade, can make nearly a hundred -francs a week.” - </p> -<p> -“They are in easy circumstances, then?” - </p> -<p> -“Oh! no. They are both young, they have no children, they are Parisians. -Deuce take it, they enjoy themselves. Monday regularly carries away what -the other days bring.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -III. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>wo hours after Maitre Magloire’s report, the police went to search Jules -Tarot’s house. -</p> -<p> -At sight of the officers, the workman and his wife turned deadly pale, and -were seized with a nervous tremor that could not escape Maitre Magloire’s -practiced eye, Yet the most thorough investigation failed to detect -anything suspicious, and the policemen were about to withdraw, when the -detective noticed Tarot’s wife glance anxiously at a cage hung in the -window. -</p> -<p> -This was a ray of light. In less than an instant Magloire had unhooked -and taken down the cage. Between the boards, at the bottom, twelve -hundred-franc bank-bills were found. -</p> -<p> -This discovery seemed to crush the workman. As to his wife, she began to -utter piercing shrieks, protesting that both she and her husband were -innocent. They were arrested, conveyed to head-quarters, and questioned by -the magistrate. Their answers were precisely the same. -</p> -<p> -They acknowledged having received a visit from their employer Saturday -evening. He seemed so ill that they asked him to take something to drink, -but he refused. He had come, he said, to give a large order, and proposed -that Tarot should undertake it, employing his own workmen. They replied -that they had no means to do so, whereupon their employer answered: “No -matter, I’ll supply the money.” And laid twelve hundred-franc bills on the -table. -</p> -<p> -At eleven o’clock M. Jandidier asked his workman to accompany him; he was -going to the Faubourg Saint Antoine. Tarot went as far as the Place de la -Bastile, crossing the foot-bridge of Constantine, and walking along the -canal. -</p> -<p> -The magistrate asked both husband and wife the very natural question: -</p> -<p> -“Why did you hide the money?” - </p> -<p> -They made the same reply. -</p> -<p> -Monday morning, hearing of M. Jandidier’s disappearance, they were seized -with terror. Tarot said to his wife: “If it is known that our employer -came here, that I crossed the bridge and followed the edge of the canal -with him, I shall be seriously compromised. If this money were found in -our possession we should be lost.” - </p> -<p> -The wife then wanted to burn the notes, but Tarot opposed the plan, -intending to return them to the family. -</p> -<p> -This explanation was reasonable and plausible, if not probable, but it was -merely an explanation. Tarot and his wife were kept under arrest. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -IV. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> week after, the magistrate was still greatly perplexed. Three more -examinations had not enabled him to come to any fixed conclusion. -</p> -<p> -Were Tarot and his wife innocent? Were they simply marvelously clever in -maintaining a probable story? -</p> -<p> -The magistrate knew not what to think, when one morning a strange rumor -spread abroad. The Maison Jandidier had failed. A detective sent to make -inquiries, brought back the most startling news. M. Jandidier, who people -supposed to be so rich, was ruined, utterly ruined, and for three years -had kept up his credit by all sorts of expedients. There was not a -thousand francs in his house, and his notes due at the end of the month -amounted to sixty-seven thousand, five hundred francs. -</p> -<p> -The cautious merchant gambled in stocks at the Bourse, the virtuous -husband was unfaithful. -</p> -<p> -The magistrate had just heard these particulars, when Maitre Magloire -appeared, pale and panting for breath. -</p> -<p> -“You know, monsieur?” he exclaimed on the threshold. “All!” - </p> -<p> -“Tarot is innocent.” - </p> -<p> -“I think so; and yet, that visit—how do you explain that visit?” - </p> -<p> -Magloire shook his head mournfully. -</p> -<p> -“I’m a fool,” said he, “and Lecoq has just proved it. Monsieur Jandidier -talked about life insurance policies at the Café Ture. That was the key to -the whole matter. Jandidier was insured for 200,000 francs, and the -companies, in France, never pay in case of suicide; do you understand?” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -V. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>hanks to M. Gustave Schmidt, who will marry Mlle. Thérèse Jandidier next -month, the Maison Jandidier did not fail. -</p> -<p> -Tarot and his wife, on being restored to liberty, were set up in business -by the same M. Gustave, and no longer go junketing on Mondays. -</p> -<p> -But what has become of M. Jandidier? A thousand francs reward for news of -him! -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -MILITARY SKETCHES. -</h2> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -THE CANTINIERE. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>he may be young or old, dazzlingly pretty or frightfully ugly; in this -case looks make no difference, she is ever and always the same. If there -is much that is evil in her composition there is quite as much that is -good. She is a woman although—or because—she is a cantinière. -This much is certain—she loves the soldier, and is ever ready to do -him a service. -</p> -<p> -It is unnecessary to describe the cantinière in her glory; that is to say, -at the head of her regiment on review days, arrayed in fall uniform, her -glazed cap perched jauntily over one ear and her little cask on her back. -Every one knows her traditional jacket, coquettish short skirt, trousers -with scarlet stripes, and her fantastic boots. -</p> -<p> -It is certainly a pretty sight to see her when the drum beats, leading the -way, and keeping time to the step of the soldiers. -</p> -<p> -But the drum is not always beating, fortunately! glory and noise do not -suffice to fill the stomach, so on her return to the quarters, the -cantinière lays aside her gorgeous apparel, and resumes her civilian -costume, that is, a skirt and drees, and bestows her attention upon the -thousand details connected with her establishment. -</p> -<p> -The cantine is not what the civilian generally supposes; it is at once a -restaurant, wine-shop, café, beer-shop, and boarding-house. It is here -that the soldier—and sometimes the officer—takes his morning -dram; the volunteer spends here a portion of the money sent him by his -family; hussars afflicted with a hearty appetite find here a cheap -supplement to the mess-room; troopers under arrest can here enjoy a -demi-tasse without leaving the quarters, and here all the non-commissioned -officers take their meals. -</p> -<p> -They pay forty-five centimes a day and furnish their bread: in exchange -for this amount, they are entitled to two meals a day, each composed of -two dishes and a dessert, besides a bowl of soup or porridge in the -evening. -</p> -<p> -The charges are not high, as you see; so cantinières do not accumulate -fortunes as rapidly as the restaurant-keepers on the boulevards. -</p> -<p> -But moderation in price does not prevent the articles from being good, for -some cantinières are veritable <i>cor-dons bleus</i>, competent to prepare -a dish originated by Dr. Véron. -</p> -<p> -In the generality of cases the cantinière is the wife of a drummer in the -infantry, of a trumpeter in the cavalry; her husband is sometimes the -fencing-master, or even a common soldier; but his position or rank is not -of the slightest importance. In the cantine, the husband is a nonentity. -His existence is scarcely recognized; and he is visible only on great -occasions, when there is a crowd, or when it is necessary to quell -disorder, which is seldom the case. -</p> -<p> -The husband of the cantinière, when his duties are over for the day, -smokes his pipe behind the door, and drinks brandy—or beer if he is -a German; almost all the cantinièrea are Alsatians. Their children are -sent to the regimental school; some become officers, the majority become -excellent trumpeters. -</p> -<p> -So the cantinière reigns supreme in her domain, which does not prevent her -from serving others. She is generally assisted by a young woman, and by a -good-natured soldier, who becomes her soldier, her right arm, in -consideration of a small salary. If any disorder arises she quells it, -putting the offender out-of-doors herself if necessary. -</p> -<p> -She does not like to give credit; but she is so kind-hearted that she can -not bear to see a man suffer, and it is impossible for her to refuse a -drop to a really thirsty soldier. Though she censures herself for her -weakness, she does not know how to resist an entreaty; but we must admit -that she is generally paid, and that she does not lose much by her -liberality. -</p> -<p> -And what woman would not do the same? How could any one refuse to comply -with a request of this kind: -</p> -<p> -“My good Madame Bajot,—I have been in the lock-. up for four days. I -have not a penny nor even a morsel of tobacco to put in my pipe. I entreat -you to send me six sous’ worth of tobacco—and a quart of brandy—for -I am very thirsty—through my comrade, and in a little bottle on -account of the corporal. By so doing you will save my life, and I will -settle your bill next pay-day. Let the tobacco be very dry and of the best -quality. -</p> -<p> -“Be assured of my eternal gratitude, -</p> -<p> -“Brulard, -</p> -<p> -“Of the 1st Division, 3d Squadron.” - </p> -<p> -The excellent woman shudders on contemplating the prisoner’s privations, -and sends him the tobacco and brandy. -</p> -<p> -Moreover, if a trooper be sick or wounded, though not sufficiently to be -sent to the hospital, she nurses him, dresses his wound, and prepares the -<i>tisane</i>, for which she will never accept any pay. -</p> -<p> -If the cantinière is ugly, no one thinks of criticising her. -</p> -<p> -It is her right, and no one even perceives it; but if she is pretty, it is -a very different matter. She makes havoc in the regiment, and all the -young conscripts are speedily subjugated by her conquering charms. -</p> -<p> -It is an old trooper’s axiom, that the goodness of the wine is in an -inverse ratio to the beauty of the cantinière. -</p> -<p> -She has a little wagon drawn by one or two horses. It is in this equipage -that she follows the troops, and appears upon the parade ground, where she -dispenses tobacco and liquors to the officers and men in the intervals of -rest during the drill. -</p> -<p> -During a campaign she devotes herself to her regiment. More than once in -the thickest of the fight she has been seen going from rank to rank to -carry a drop to the soldiers, and braving the canister and grape in order -to give a little water to the wounded. She keeps no accounts at such -times; she does not sell, she gives. -</p> -<p> -Several cantinières have been decorated, and the exploits of one of their -number have been related throughout Europe. They have formed the plot of a -drama which delineates all the characteristics of “the soldier’s mother,” - under the title of “The Vivandière of the Grand Army.” - </p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -THE BARBER OF THE SQUADRON. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>s a general thing, it is upon the cheeks of his brother soldiers that he -serves his apprenticeship—a severe apprenticeship for the cheeks! -Heaven preserve you from ever falling into his clutches and testing his -dexterity. In former years, before entering the service, he was a -carpenter, a mechanic, or a stone-cutter;—his good conduct elevated -him to the important position of barber, and since that time he has plied -in turn the scissors and razor with more zeal than discretion. -</p> -<p> -This office of barber is one of the most popular in the regiment; and the -person who holds it is not a little proud of the honor. First of all, he -has a right to exact a small monthly payment from each soldier; he also -enjoys perfect freedom after ten o’clock; in short, he is excused from all -drudgery, and most of the exercises. And yet his position is no sinecure. -</p> -<p> -The barber is responsible for the heads of the entire company. If the -beards are too long, or the hair transgresses the limits prescribed by -ordinance, he is the one upon whom the blame will fall. The regulation is -there; he must follow it to the letter, and shave his companions-in-arms -as closely as possible, and not unfrequently against their will; for there -are troopers who cling to their hair— the natural ornament of man. The military gallant would love to wear long -hair, probably so a loving hand could caress his curls; but the -regulations are pitiless. -</p> -<p> -“As soon as the hair can be seized with the hand, it must positively be -cut,” says the corporal. -</p> -<p> -All sorts of means are vainly employed by the foppish trooper to preserve -his hair. He wets it every day, or pastes it down with the aid of <i>cosmetique</i>, -then hides it carefully under his cap. -</p> -<p> -‘Wasted efforts! the officers are acquainted with all these tricks; they -pull off the caps, rumple up the hair, and then the delinquent and the -barber, who is held responsible, are almost sure of two, or even four days -in the guard house. -</p> -<p> -Those sly foxes—the old troopers—do not resort to such -hackneyed expedients; they feign some affection of the eyes or ears, and -thus obtain from the sergeant-major permission to wear their hair long. -</p> -<p> -The days of grand reviews are trying ordeals for the barber. In less than -two hours he must shave one hundred and fifty or two hundred beards, to -say nothing of the hair-cutting. -</p> -<p> -You should see him then, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and armed -with a terrible razor which he has not even time to sharpen. The soldiers—I -should say, the patients—perhaps martyrs would be still better—lather -themselves in advance, and come one after another to take their place in -the seat of torture. The work is accomplished in the twinkling of an eye; -the most obstinate beards do not resist; hairs that refuse to be cut are -torn out; the cheek bleeds a little, but that is nothing. What is a -scratch to a French soldier? Moreover, the barber is a conscientious man, -and if he occasionally happens to slice off an ear, he always takes the -greatest possible pains to restore it to its rightful owner. -</p> -<p> -The troopers dread the razor, but they jeer at the barber; they call him -the butcher, in whispers be it understood—for if he overhears them, -it is in his power to avenge himself summarily. -</p> -<p> -Barbers are the heroes of a host of army legends; there is, first, the -story of Barber Plumepate, who belonged to a cavalry regiment. -</p> -<p> -This barber, who was very skillful in his profession, had an exceedingly -vindictive disposition. Very severely punished one day by his captain, he -swore vengeance, and openly declared he would kill the man who had so -wronged him. -</p> -<p> -The barber’s threats coming to the ears of the captain, he immediately -summoned Plumepate. -</p> -<p> -“You have sworn that you would kill me,” he said to him; “that is mere -boasting on your part; you would never dare to do it. Wait a moment; I -will try you. Prepare your implements and shave me.” - </p> -<p> -The terrible Plumepate was completely disconcerted. He set to work, but he -dared not carry out his threats. Never, on the contrary, did he do a -neater job. -</p> -<p> -On another occasion, during a campaign, a barber in one of the regiments -of the line was summoned to shave the commander-in-chief. He was badly -frightened, and he could but think of the possible consequences should his -hand tremble. It did tremble so much that the general’s face was covered -with blood when the operation was concluded. The unfortunate barber, -terrified by what he had done, shook in every limb, and stammered a -thousand excuses. -</p> -<p> -“Hold,” said the general; “here is a louis! If your hand had not trembled -in shaving your general, you would not be a true trooper.” - </p> -<p> -During a campaign, a barber becomes a soldier like the others, for then -both hair and beard are neglected. -</p> -<p> -“When one finds water in Africa one drinks it; one does not amuse one’s -self in making soap-suds.” - </p> -<p> -It sometimes happens that the barber of a regiment is a genuine barber, -who knows his trade, and who practiced it with honor before he became a -soldier. Then there is joy in the squadron; and the troopers flock to be -shaved by this artist, who does not mutilate them, and whose -well-sharpened razor is scarcely felt. The more foppish, in consideration -of a small fee, have their hair dressed and oiled. -</p> -<p> -The lower officers, not only of the squadron, but of the entire regiment, -give him their patronage; he becomes their favorite, their factotum, they -treat him affably, almost courteously, and even permit a certain degree of -familiarity. -</p> -<p> -Louis XI. made a prime minister of his barber. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -THE VAGUEMESTRE. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>e is always busy, very busy, exceedingly busy; that is his specialty. Do -not attempt to speak to him, he can not answer you; do not try to stop -him, he will march you straight to the guard-house. He does not walk, he -runs; he has not an hour to spare, not a moment, not a second. -</p> -<p> -This morning before the odious reveille had driven the soldiers from their -narrow couches he was up and dressed, ready to start. -</p> -<p> -Should you succeed in questioning him, this will be his response: -</p> -<p> -“What a life! what a profession! Look, sir, it is not yet nine o’clock, -and I have already made thirty trips. I had scarcely time to take my dram -this morning, and in my haste I almost choked myself. How do I know I -shall have time to swallow my absinthe? Shall I even get my breakfast? -That is doubtful. As you see, I invariably reach the cantine an hour after -the others. Everything is eaten, there is nothing left, or if there is, it -is something no one would eat, and consequently intolerable. Then they -bring me an egg. An egg!” (with a bitter laugh), “an egg! for a man who -has been running about all the morning. Never adopt my profession, sir; my -existence is insupportable—a dog’s life! To-morrow, you may rest -assured, I shall tender my resignation and take my place in the ranks, -like the others. But what am I doing? Here I have lost ten minutes in -talking; clear oat, d—n you! I should have had time to drink my -absinthe.” - </p> -<p> -It must be admitted that the life of the vaguemestre is not a path of -roses. -</p> -<p> -He is the Mercury of that company of deities known as the staff of a -regiment, and like that mythological courier, he must have wings on his -feet. He is also the superintendent of the regimental post-office; all -letters that come and go pass through his hands; he must know the hours -for the arrival and departure of the mails, carry the letters, and go -after them. If soldiers receive money through the post, they can not draw -it themselves; they carry their order to him, and he draws it and pays it -over to them; so I assure you this officer’s time is fully occupied. And -yet something more than agility is needed, for he must think of -everything. The slightest oversight or the least delay might produce -serious consequences, for forgetfulness and want of punctuality are -severely punished. -</p> -<p> -In the morning he hastens to the post-office, then to the colonel’s house -to obtain the order of the day; then he rushes back to the barracks in -company with the messenger. -</p> -<p> -He then hastily sorts the letters, making a separate pile for each -squadron; these he gives to the sergeants, who give them to the corporals -on duty for the week, who distribute them among the soldiers. -</p> -<p> -But the hour for the report arrives; he hastens after it; then he starts -off again. The report must be submitted to the superior officers. The -lieutenant-colonel is waiting for it; the major is waiting for it, so the -vaguemestre hurries away. On returning, he must stop to see a captain who -has sent for him; besides, the colonel has intrusted him with a letter to -be delivered to a lieutenant who lives at the very end of the town. What a -nuisance! He rushes to the place, but does not find the lieutenant. The -letter is important; the lieutenant must be at the <i>café</i>—lieutenants -are always at the <i>café</i>—at least, when they are not at -breakfast. The vaguemestre visits the <i>café</i>, no lieutenant; at last, -he finds him at his boarding-house and delivers the letter. -</p> -<p> -He heaves a mighty sigh of relief. Now he can breakfast; he hurries on -with all the fleetness of which his tired limbs are capable; hunger lends -him wings. He reaches the barracks. Alas! the adjutant-major who has just -left the table, stops him in the passage; he has a few suggestions to make—adjutant-majors -always have suggestions to make. -</p> -<p> -At last he breakfasts in turn; he is the last of all. But it is useless to -describe the experience of the entire day. -</p> -<p> -The vaguemestre is gifted with an extraordinary memory. Every week, when -he distributes the money received by the soldiers, he knows the exact -condition of each man’s account; he must know if those who are entitled to -money are in disgrace or ill. Every week the sergeant on duty in each -squadron must furnish him with a report embodying this information; but it -would take too much time to consult these documents. He prefers to -remember. -</p> -<p> -So, Sunday morning the trumpeter sounds the vaguemestre’s call, that is to -say, executes a sort of flourish that signifies: -</p> -<p> -“All who have received money-orders through the post must come and find -the vaguemestre if they desire what is due them.” - </p> -<p> -This call is so well understood that the soldiers respond promptly, and -without hesitation, whereupon colloquies of this kind ensue: -</p> -<p> -THE VAGUEMESTRE. Private Demanet, you have received twelve francs. -</p> -<p> -PRIVATE DEMANET. Yes, lieutenant Vaguemestre. Private Demanet, your outfit -is not yet paid for; you are credited with only eleven francs, which is a -deplorable state of things. You must devote your twelve francs to this -purpose. -</p> -<p> -PRIVATE DEMARET. I entreat you, lieutenant—Vaguemestre. Well, then, -here are a hundred sous. I will keep back only seven francs. Make out a -receipt. example second. -</p> -<p> -EXAMPLE SECOND. -</p> -<p> -VAGUEMESTRE. Private Castagnol, you have received fifty francs. -</p> -<p> -PRIVATE CASTAGNOL. Yes, lieutenant Vaguemestre. Your parents seem to have -more money than they know what to do with. -</p> -<p> -PRIVATE CASTAGNOL. Lieutenant, my family—Vaguemestre. Ah! I -remember, you are a volunteer. Very well, you may go. -</p> -<p> -PRIVATE CASTAGNOL. But my money? -</p> -<p> -VAGUEMESTRE. You have eight days in the guard-house to make. Next Sunday, -if you are not punished in the meantime, you shall have your money. -</p> -<p> -PRIVATE OASTAGKOL. But— -</p> -<p> -VAGUEMESTRE. No remarks. -</p> -<p> -PRIVATE CASTAGNOL (<i>turning angrily away</i>). I shall tell my friends -to send bank-notes next time. -</p> -<p> -The vaguemestre being usually an adjutant, the soldiers address him as -lieutenant. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -THE ZOUAVE. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>any have talked of the zouave: few know him. -</p> -<p> -Everybody has seen him lazily squatting at the gates of the Tuileries, -like a granite sphinx on the threshold of the Assyrian palaces. He is on -guard. He performs his duty with a profoundly melancholy air, smoking his -pipe with feverish impatience, or, rather, watching with feverish -impatience all the while he is smoking his pipe, some ray of our Parisian -sunlight, which seems like moonlight when compared with that fierce -African sunshine, which pours down upon the head like molten lead. -</p> -<p> -A scrap of green or white calico, twisted around a red fez; a blue jacket, -trimmed with red or yellow braid, and which leaves the throat entirely -bare; full scarlet trousers, cut in the Oriental fashion; white gaiters -buttoning above the ankle; this is his costume. -</p> -<p> -How can one describe the man? -</p> -<p> -Short, spare, compactly built and muscular, with broad shoulders, square -fists, closely shaven head, keen eyes, a mocking smile, and a bold and -decided bearing—such is the zouave, the best soldier in the world -for bold ventures, skirmishes with outposts, impossible ambuscades, and -rapid marches. -</p> -<p> -Accustomed to the pursuit of the Arab, his constant enemy, the zouave is -thoroughly conversant with all the stratagems of desert warfare. He has -learned to outwit his savage foes, so he will always surprise the armies -of Europe. -</p> -<p> -“The Arab is very cunning, but the zouave is more cunning still.” - </p> -<p> -He knows how to conceal himself in a little clump of shrubbery, and steal -imperceptibly upon the sentinel whom he wishes to capture; he can advance -without a sound, remain motionless for hours together, hide behind the -slightest irregularity in the ground, crawl, leap, bound, disappear in the -undergrowth that surrounds him, follow a track, and shun all the traps -that are set for him. -</p> -<p> -As a sharp-shooter, he has no equal. -</p> -<p> -If a position is to be taken, he dashes forward, with head down, -overturning everything in his passage. It is no longer a man; it is a -bullet. Once started on his course, he reaches the goal or dies. -</p> -<p> -The zouave cordially detests large cities, and regards garrisons with -abhorrence. -</p> -<p> -In garrison life, the discipline becomes too irksome; he must polish his -cartridge-box, whiten his shoulder-belt, wash his clothes, mount guard at -regular hours, appear at parade—all wearisome enough to the average -trooper, but insupportable to the zouave. -</p> -<p> -The zouave needs the freedom of camp life, the free range of an enemy’s -country, a <i>ragoût</i> improvised under a tent. It matters not if his -canteen is only three-quarters full, and if the supply of coffee is -running short, so he has but a morsel of no matter what to appease his -hunger, he sings, he is gay, he is happy, he is himself. -</p> -<p> -It is true that when he is not happy, he is equally gay, and sings even -more loudly. -</p> -<p> -The zouave owes his fondness for adventure and his almost nomadic habits -to the African war. In constantly pursuing the Arabs through deserts and -over mountains, he has formed habits of living very like those of these -wandering tribes. -</p> -<p> -Like the philosopher Bias, the zouave carries all his possessions about -with him, which proves, perhaps, that he is something of a philosopher. -</p> -<p> -But you should see a zouave’s knapsack when he is starting on an -expedition. It is monstrous; one wonders if he will not sink beneath his -burden, and be compelled to cast it aside. He would rather die. Besides, -it seems to be the universal belief that he does not feel the weight of -it. -</p> -<p> -Usually, on taking the field, the infantry lighten their load as much as -possible; the officers not only permit this, but require it. -</p> -<p> -It is not so with the zouave. This seems to be the very time that his -burden must be heaviest He reduces his effects to the smallest possible -compass, rolls them, squeezes them, and then crowds them, and crowds them, -until the straps become too short and the distended knapsack threatens to -burst. -</p> -<p> -There is a little of everything in the zouave’s load. An enumeration of -its contents would sound like the inventory of three distinct -establishments;—a drug, a haberdashery, and a grocery store. -</p> -<p> -He has thread, needles, buttons, soap, wax, tallow, a thimble, a fork, one -or two spoons, and several knives, to say nothing of the condiments -indispensable in the concoction of a savory <i>ragoût</i>. -</p> -<p> -For the zouave is a gourmand. It is to satisfy his fastidious tastes in -this direction that, having no servant at his command, he has made himself -the best cook in Europe. -</p> -<p> -His <i>ragoûts</i> might not make his fortune in Paris; but in Africa, in -the desert, how many generals have smacked their lips over them! -</p> -<p> -Any one can make a savory dish of stewed rabbit <i>with</i> a rabbit; but -to make it <i>without</i> a rabbit, that is a difficult task, quite worthy -of a zouave. -</p> -<p> -His fertile imagination never shines as brilliantly as when the larder is -empty; then, he employs all his wits; he searches, he invents. On such -days, he dines admirably; but how many strange animals are made to turn -from their usual path to take the road to the saucepan. -</p> -<p> -“I do not ask my zouaves for strawberries,” said Marshal, then Colonel -Canrobert, one frightfully hot day, in the middle of the desert; “but if I -really desired some, they are quite capable of discovering them in the -sand.” - </p> -<p> -To-day the zouave is the most popular of all our soldiers; his <i>chachia</i> -threatens to pass down to posterity with the towering bear-skin cap worn -by the grenadiers of the First Empire. -</p> -<p> -It is to the zouave that we owe the words of the celebrated march known as -the “Casquette.” This is the origin of it: -</p> -<p> -One night the French camp was surprised by Arabs. A murderous fire so -astonished our soldiers, that they almost wavered at first; but Marshal -Bugeaud rushed from his tent, and his presence inspiring our troops with -their wonted enthusiasm, the enemy was repulsed. -</p> -<p> -When the conflict was ended, the marshal noticed that every one smiled on -looking at him. He raised his hands to his head. In his haste, he had left -his tent adorned with the anything but heroic head-gear of the King of -Yvetot; in short, a night-cap. -</p> -<p> -The next day, when the trumpets gave the signal for the troops to resume -their march, the zouaves, in memory of that original coifiure, sung in -deafening chorus: -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“As-tu vu -La casquette -La casquette, -As-tu vu -La casquette, -Du Père Bugeaud?” - </pre> -<p> -Two or three days afterward, the marshal, on giving the order for -departure, said to the trumpeters: “Boys, sound <i>la casquette</i>.” - </p> -<p> -So this name still clings to the order. To how many victories it has led, -and will lead the zouaves! -</p> -<p> -Father Bugeaud’s <i>casquette</i>, by insuring the success of “Duc Job,” - yielded eighty thousand francs to the Théâtre Français, and sixty thousand -francs to M. Léon Laya. -</p> -<p> -It is a night-cap well worth the having. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -THE FANTASSIN, OR FOOT-SOLDIER. -</h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he fantassin, <i>par excellence</i>, is a soldier of the regular -infantry. The cavalry pretend that the foot-soldier wears spurs on his -elbows, but this is only a stale joke perpetrated before the bayonet came -into general use. -</p> -<p> -The regular infantry is really the French army. It has shed its blood upon -every battle-field, and has come off victorious again and again. It is the -infantry that has carried the standards of France through conquered -Europe. It is the regular infantry which, without shoes, provisions, or -artillery, swept down from the Alps upon Italy. It is the infantry that -fought at the Pyramids, at Eylau and at Moscow. The infantry is the queen -of battles; with her one can go in any direction and always maintain one’s -position. -</p> -<p> -There is nothing brilliant about the infantry uniform, and yet when seen -in masses it produces an excellent effect. It is also the most comfortable -and the best adapted to all the needs of a soldier in the field. -</p> -<p> -At reviews, upon the parade ground, and on the boulevards there are, -perhaps, regiments that attract more attention; but such is not the case -if it is seen in line of battle. One should see it maneuvering under fire -with the same precision as on the Champs de Mars. Each regiment has become -a corps, with its officers at its head. A cannon-ball cuts down an entire -file. “Close up the ranks!” The ranks are closed; the void is filled -without haste, disorder, or confusion. -</p> -<p> -Nothing could be more beautiful, nothing could be more magnificent than a -regiment of the line advancing for a bayonet charge upon the enemy. Search -the ranks; examine one by one these soldiers blackened with powder, try to -find the foot-soldier you have seen lounging about the shop windows in -large cities, with his shako on the back of his head. The lounger of -yesterday is the hero of to-day. Now, danger illumines every face; -courage, like an aureole, shines resplendent on every brow. All honor to -the regulars! upon their banners is written our glorious history! -</p> -<p> -The foot-soldier in garrison bears no resemblance whatever to the hero of -the battle-field. He does not even remember his exploits of yesterday; he -little suspects the great deeds he will perform to-morrow should France -have need of his devotion and courage. -</p> -<p> -The foot-soldier in garrison is the best and most inoffensive of men, -always trying to make himself useful, ever ready to do a favor. His tastes -are simple, and his desires modest; boisterous amusements have no -attractions for him, and he rarely indulges in the bottle. -</p> -<p> -The foot-soldier, like all the members of his profession, is generally in -straitened circumstances. -</p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“For in France as in Austria -The soldier is not rich, -Every one knows that.” - </pre> -<p> -It is true that one can not indulge in much extravagance on five centimes -a day. Fortunately there are ways to increase this meager income. In many -regiments, the soldiers are allowed to find occupation in the city, -provided, of course, that discipline does not suffer thereby. Those who -have a trade devote all their leisure time to it; those who have only -their two hands and their good-will—and they are by far the largest -number—nevertheless find a way to make themselves useful. In some <i>bourgeoisie</i> -households they hire a soldier to take care of the garden and scrub the -floors. -</p> -<p> -There is also another source of revenue which, though not the most -honorable, is certainly the most in vogue; this is playing a trick on -one’s family. -</p> -<p> -The fraud is generally suggested by some old grumbler who is an adept in -the art of deception. A mischievously inclined volunteer, who is a good -penman, generally writes the letter. Illness is the usual pretext. It is -the simplest of all, and seldom fails to produce the desired effect. How -can you suppose that parents will refuse to forward a few francs on -receiving from their child a letter beginning thus: -</p> -<p> -“Dear Mother,—The object of this letter is to inform you that I am -in the hospital.” - </p> -<p> -The family send money. A letter arrives, inclosing a post-office order. -The vaguemestre quickly changes it into shining coin. But alas! this money -vanishes like a dream. And how could it be otherwise? So many friends must -have a share of this windfall. First, there is the bedfellow, then the -inventor of the trick, then the writer, then two or three comrades, -fellow-countrymen—then a corporal who has been obliging, and many -others. Besides, it is not considered seemly for a trooper to spend his -money alone. -</p> -<p> -A soldier who goes out alone, and who drinks alone, is disgraced in the -eyes of his comrades. -</p> -<p> -When he has finished his daily task at the barracks, polished his weapons, -and answered to his name at roll-call, the foot-soldier is at liberty, -provided he is not on duty, or on guard, or on the <i>corveê</i>, or -undergoing punishment, and he can leave the barracks if he chooses. -Generally he is eager to improve the opportunity. There must be something -of importance to detain him if he does not go out; a letter to write, some -little job to do, a pipe of unusual length to color for an officer who is -making a collection. But such instances are rare. He loves long walks. If -he is stationed in a small town, you can always meet him in the shady -paths in the suburbs. He is generally cutting little switches to beat his -clothing. -</p> -<p> -If he is in a large city, he has a variety of amusements. He delights in -gazing into the shop-windows; he haunts the promenades and the public -gardens; mountebanks always find in him a patient and appreciative patron, -ever ready to laugh at their stale jokes. The mountebank and the fantassin -have had a mutual understanding for a long time. “Walk in. Walk in, -gentlemen and ladies. Admission is ten centimes; two sous. The military -only half-price.” - </p> -<p> -But there is no place like Paris for the soldier. Wine is a trifle dear; -but how many diversions there are. This is a city! one can stroll about -five hours without danger of seeing the same objects. Moreover, Paris -contains the Jardin des Plantes, and the Jardin des Plantes is, as every -one knows, the soldier’s earthly Paradise. -</p> -<p> -There, he can spend his hours of liberty most delightfully. He visits, in -succession, all the cabinets of natural history. He almost splits his -sides laughing as he stands before the monkey’s palace, watching the -pranks of its occupants; he goes into ecstasies over the wild animals, and -shudders while contemplating the reptiles. But his favorites are the bear -and the elephant. He never leaves the Jardin des Plantes until he has seen -Martin climb the tree, and given the elephant a crust of bread, held in -reserve in his cap—for want of pantaloon pockets. -</p> -<p> -But the foot-soldier would be a body without a soul, if he had no -countrywoman. The payse, as he styles her, has been created for the -fantassin, as the fantassin has been created for the payse. They love and -understand each other. He accompanies the payse, who is usually a child’s -nurse, in her walks; he assists her in watching the children, when he does -not prevent her from watching them; on the promenade, the fantassin seats -himself near the payse and pours sweet nothings into her ears, while the -children play on the gravel-walk. “Honi soit qui mal y pense!” - </p> -<p> -In spite of the fatigue that results from it, the foot-soldier loves a -change of garrison. He goes cheerfully from one end of France to the -other, singing as he plods along. Every day, before two o’clock, his legs -fail him, which does not prevent him from strolling around to see the -curiosities of the neighborhood as soon as he reaches the town where he is -to spend the night. -</p> -<p> -The <i>billet</i> troubles the soldier a little. It is like a ticket in a -lottery. Some are very good, some are bad. As a general thing, the soldier -is cordially received; though the contrary happens sometimes. So far as -the fantassin is concerned, he hardly ever abuses the hospitality accorded -him. The <i>billet</i> is considered very good when the people of the -house invite the soldier to share their dinner. It is a saving of time and -of money for him. The fantassin is overjoyed, and to repay his -entertainers, he tells them his history. -</p> -<p> -When his term of service expires and he returns to his fireside, the -soldier does not presume upon his superiority. He talks freely but not -boastingly of his travels and campaigns. He always finds attentive -auditors, for we all love and respect the old defenders of France. -</p> -<p> -Some accuse the fantassin of being too unsophisticated; there are -occasions when simplicity of speech is the height of eloquence. -</p> -<p> -“What were you doing at Solferino?” some one once asked a soldier. -</p> -<p> -“I?—I was doing like the rest—killing and being killed,” he -replied modestly. -</p> -<p> -Sublimely artless speech in which is summed up all the philosophy of war. -</p> -<p> -<br /><br /> -</p> -<hr /> -<p> -<a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> -</p> -<div style="height: 4em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> -<h2> -THE SOLDIER OF THE LIGHT INFANTRY; -</h2> -<h3> -OR, THE CHASSEUR. -</h3> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>e does not walk; he runs; he is truly the soldier of his age—an age -of steam. He comes from Vincennes to Paris in thirty-five minutes; it -takes a first class <i>fiacre</i> just twice as long. -</p> -<p> -The light infantry has given abundant proofs of courage. It was in Africa, -in 1842, that it received the baptism of fire, a glorious baptism. -</p> -<p> -From the very first the chasseurs inspired the Arabs with unconquerable -terror. It is true that everything combines to give them a frightful -appearance in battle; their somber costume, their strange evolutions, the -shrill sound of their trumpets, make them resemble, seen in the midst of -the smoke, a legion of unchained devils. -</p> -<p> -When the Arabs saw them advancing on the run they took flight. -</p> -<p> -The chasseurs have a terrible weapon. Their rifles, which are loaded with -oblong balls, pierce a board fifty millimeters in thickness at a distance -of more than a quarter of a mile; and as all the chasseurs are excellent -marksmen, they make frightful havoc in the enemy’s ranks. -</p> -<p> -It is amusing to see the profound astonishment of the Arabs wounded at -such a distance. They believe there is some witchcraft about it. -</p> -<p> -At Sebastopol, the corps of volunteer sharp-shooters was recruited from -the ranks of the chasseurs. Creeping along, hiding in the slightest furrow -of ground, they generally succeed in approaching within range of the -battery, and then woe to its defenders! The cannons were soon reduced to -silence. -</p> -<p> -It is impossible for any one who has not witnessed the maneuvers of the -light infantry to have any conception of the marvels resulting from -discipline and daily practice. -</p> -<p> -Their ordinary gait is a rapid walk, their accelerated pace is the speed -of a race-horse. At a blast from the trumpet they disperse in every -direction, disappearing, kneeling, lying flat on their bellies or on their -backs, loading their rifles, aiming and firing in every conceivable -posture. Another signal is heard; instantly they are in the ranks, crowded -close together, bayonets glittering, ready to charge. -</p> -<p> -And an impetuous charge by the chasseurs of Vincennes is irresistible. -Dense as the mass may be upon which they precipitate themselves, they cut -their way through it with their broad saber-bayonets, leaving a bloody -trail behind them. -</p> -<p> -“They are demons!” Prince Mentchikoff exclaimed at Sebastopol. -</p> -<p> -The chasseurs are very proud of their reputation for swiftness. Once when -an order of the day was read to them beginning thus: -</p> -<p> -“Soldiers: we are about to march upon the enemy.”—they cried: “Oh, -no, that does not suit us, we wish to run.” - </p> -<p> -When off duty the chasseur preserves his rapid pace, and his ferocious, -almost tigerish manner. His hat is always cocked defiantly on one side of -his head, and his belt is always inordinately tight. -</p> -<p> -Quick and supple in every movement, he adores dancing. It is his <i>forte</i>, -and in it he wins a success that the Parisian fireman alone can dispute -with him. Naturally, the belles adore this perfect dancer; but they should -not trust him—the chasseur is even more inconstant than that -heartless butterfly, the voltigeur. -</p> -<p> -In Paris he haunts the shades of Vincennes and Saint Maudé. Monday, -Thursday, and Sunday he can always be found at the public balls, near the -Barrière du Trône, happy if permission to be absent until midnight enables -him to remain until the close of the festivities. He invariably finds a -brother chasseur who is also absent on leave, and who shares several -bottles of sour wine with him. -</p> -<h3> -******* -</h3> -<p> -But it would be unjust not to say a word concerning the trumpeter of the -chasseurs. -</p> -<p> -How the chasseur, laden with his knapsack, rations, weapons, ammunition, -and accouterments can run without losing his breath completely, it is -difficult to comprehend. -</p> -<p> -But how does the trumpeter, as he runs with the others, find breath to -blow his trumpet? -</p> -<p> -That is something one can not comprehend. -</p> -<div style="height: 6em;"> -<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg’s A Thousand Francs Reward, by Emile Gaboriau - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A THOUSAND FRANCS REWARD *** - -***** This file should be named 43730-h.htm or 43730-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/3/43730/ - -Produced by David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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